The Final Redemption by Michael Manning (little red riding hood ebook free .txt) 📕

Why? You did nothingwrong, she protested mentally.

“For everything,” he said, answeringher thought, “for hiding so many things from you in the past, forfailing to protect you, for all of it. I tried to handle everythingmyself and now it’s all gone to hell.”

“You were always an idiot, but I don’tthink it’s your fault,” she said then. “You didn’t createMal’goroth.”

Walter was startled from his ownreverie, “What?”

“Nothing,” she told himquickly.

“I did create Mal’goroth,” saidMordecai, continuing. “Or at least I gave him the power that setthis all in motion.”

Are you talking about thewar with Gododdin? She askedsilently.

“You were there with me, you rememberit,” he said sadly.

You had nochoice.

“There’s always a choice, Penny,” hesaid softly. “Sometimes we just don’t see it.”

What would you choose now,if you could change all this?

“To be at home with you, watching youbrush your hair, listening to the children talking in their beds,hoping we will think they are sleeping.”

The last remark was too much for herand she shook her head. “Please Walter, let some light in. I thinkI’m going mad.”

Gareth agreed as well, “I too am tiredof facing my phantoms. Just give us a glimpse.”

Walter returned the outside soundsfirst, waiting to make certain everything was quiet above. Garetheased their earthy roof aside, and then Walter began to let somelight, and more importantly, a faint amount of aythar, passinside.

“Mal’goroth has moved. Ican feel his pressure emanating from the castle now. Their shieldseems to be down as well,” said Gareth. “He’s quite far; you canprobably release the invisibility.”

“I still can’t sense anything,” saidthe older wizard.

It didn’t take much convincing,although Walter still removed their concealment gradually. Theyemerged from their dark pit into a world that looked as if it hadbeen scoured by a giant hand.

“Is there any sign of Mordecai?” askedPenny nervously.

“No,” said Gareth in a tone thatbrooked no doubt. The red haired archmage was confident of hissenses.

Walking carefully over the torn earthand upturned rocks, they began walking in the direction where thebattle had taken place. They had gone several hundred yards whenGareth spoke again, “I see something.”

“What?” asked the Countess.

“A body,” he answered. “It must behim. There is so little aythar I mistook it for the ground when wewere farther away.”

Narrowing his eyes, Walter chimed in,“I can feel the body, but there’s no aythar there.”

The red haired archmage was alreadystriding forward, “It’s there, just a faint bit that comprises thespellweaving inside him. You’ll feel it when we getcloser.”

They found him draped across a smoothstone that had been uncovered by the turmoil. His body lay supine,with eyes staring at the sky blankly and while it was in one piece,it was torn and ripped. The skin and flesh looked as though it hadbeen savaged by some wild beast, but there was no blood. It was thedry and damaged husk of a man who had died more than a year gonepast.

Chapter 44

I, Mordecai Illeniel,awoke.

My eyes were already open, but Ihadn’t been able to see through them until that moment. My earsalso began to report sounds, and gradually I realized someone waswalking toward me, several someone’s in fact.

Above me the sky was a brilliant blue.The sun shone again now that Mal’goroth’s black attack was done. Mybody felt wooden, as though it were dry and stiff. Idly I tried tomove my arm, but nothing happened.

Last time I didn’t wakeuntil my body had absorbed enough aythar to restore itself,I thought, remembering the day I had awoken undera mound of dead insects. The memory itself seemed like a dreamhowever, as if it had been someone else’s awakening. This one feltfar more real to me.

A red haired man’s head blocked thesun for a moment, peering down at me. He looked vaguely familiar,but I had trouble placing him. He moved out of my line of sight,but my eyes weren’t able to track him. Aware of my magesight now, Ifelt him step back, closer to the people with him.

That’s Doron, Millicenth,Karenth, Walter—and Penny. The gods wereeasily recognized by their powerful aythar, but Penny and Walterwere a surprise. The stranger felt similar to Gareth, but hisaythar was subtly different. Why is Pennyhere?!

The thought brought a shock of fearand alarm. She was supposed to be hiding. She was supposed to besafe, at least for a while anyway. In a panic I tried to speak, butof course my mouth wouldn’t move.

“What was that?” said the stranger,leaning closer to me.

Penny drew closer as well. Her aytharwas warm in a way that the stranger’s was not, and although heradiated a powerful aythar, it was hers that seemed to call tome.

“It’s awake somehow,” noted the man.“I can feel a consciousness.”

“It?!” said Penny, somewhat offendedat the usage.

“It,” he repeated. His voice soundedmaddeningly familiar to me. “The simulacrum that thinks of itselfas your husband,” he added to clarify.

“You said he can’t die, because of thespellweave,” reminded Penny.

“Die, that much is true,” said thestranger, “He can’t die. It’s the awareness that puzzlesme.”

“Why?” she asked him.

“Because the essential feature ofaythar is awareness,” he explained carefully. “Everything possessesit, even the stone he is lying upon, but the type of awareness isdetermined by the level of aythar.”

Pointing at the ground, he spoke asthough he were in a classroom, “The earth below us, for example,its aythar is very small for every ounce or pound. It is hardlyaware of anything, but added up, it comprises a huge consciousness.One that is so far removed from you or me that it is almostcompletely alien to us.” Moving his hand, he indicated Mordecai’sbody. “This body however, contains hardly anything more than doesthe stone it rests upon. The magical sentience that controls itshouldn’t be conscious.”

Listening to him expoundon magical theory gave me my final clue. It’s Gareth, but he’s human!

Walter was leaning close now, peeringat me. “I felt it,” he agreed calmly, “a flicker of something. Ithink he’s listening to us.”

Of course I’m listeningdammit. You’re talking into my ear. I wasbeginning to find being spoken of in the third personannoying. You look old, Walter,I added. Somehow the rude observation made mefeel better.

Penny was fully beside me now, herface only inches from my own. The feeling of her