Gathering Storm (The Salvation of Tempestria Book 2) by Gary Stringer (howl and other poems .txt) 📕

on a kind of sympathic version of her Nature’s Mirror. Taking the raw material of hatred in these clerics, her power reflected it. She turned their hatred back on them and redirected their sense of rightness so they would be susceptible to her suggestions. The more they hated, the more they snared themselves until Cat decided that since their Holy Water was such a vital connection to their gods, they should sacrifice themselves by drowning in it.

“I do this not out of hatred or malice,” she pronounced. “Not even because you attacked me. But because you robbed others of their free will; used them when they wanted no part of your vendetta. I do it to protect them and your future victims.”

They could have stopped it at any time. All the clerics had to do was let go of their hatred. Then they would be safe. But they didn’t. They kept on hating, and so they kept on believing Catriona was right when she said they should drown. And so they did.

The Council ruled that Catriona had acted in defence, to end a threat, and no charges were brought.

*****

“Their kind seeks to perpetuate ignorance,” Calin fumed, “and that is against all I stand for. I shall not mourn their loss.”

“Me neither,” Catriona agreed, “and to answer your original question, what the clerics call a Blessing is just a transfer of magical energy with a specific frequency. That can be analysed and replicated, just like any other form of energy.”

“Fascinating,” Calin acknowledged. “Now,” she continued, changing the subject, “will you introduce me to your companions?”

“This is Mandalee,” Catriona began, “a good friend of mine.”

It felt so good to be able to say that again after more than two years.

“The White Assassin,” Calin remarked.

“The what?” Mandalee wondered.

“Didn’t you know? It’s a title you seem to have picked up.”

Mandalee didn’t like it. “What’s next – the Red Druid? The Grey Wizard? The Purple Flower Arranger? I mean, I can’t be the only assassin who ever wore white or belonged to the order of Light. Unless there’s some rule that you can’t have more than one magic user of the same colour.”

“No rule that I know of,” Calin agreed, “and I would know if there were.”

Moving on to Daelen, she inquired, “And this young man would be—?”

“My lover, Dan,” Catriona lied quickly, moving close to Daelen’s side, taking his hand in hers and flashing him a loving smile.

Somehow, Mandalee had found a way to make sympathic kissing noises in Cat’s mind. The druidess made a supreme effort to rise above it.

Calin studied him carefully for a long moment, before saying, “A pleasure to meet such an interesting individual, young sir. This truly is a day for extraordinary guests.”

Before Daelen could think of a response, he heard her voice in his mind, ‘I know how to see through a perception filter, shadow warrior. Don’t worry, it’s working for everyone else.’

She turned her attention back to Catriona. “He is your lover, you say? I have heard rumours that you are in a relationship with a powerful wizard, though there is some debate as to who that is. I even heard one claim that you were romantically involved with Dreya the Dark.”

“Yes, I’ve heard the same rumours,” Cat answered simply, neither confirming nor denying it. Denial was often the surest way to make people believe a rumour was true. “Who knows how they start?”

“Indeed,” Calin agreed. “As if Dreya the Dark does romance!”

“Well, quite,” Cat replied, noncommittally.

“Besides, the Red Druid only has eyes for Dan. Right, Cat?” Mandalee put in.

Catriona ignored her in favour of talking to Calin. “Before I forget why I asked to see you, Mistress Calin, I should give you this.”

She produced a notebook from her pocket dimension and handed it to her.

Calin opened it, and her eyes lit up. “New druid magic. This is exactly what I have been looking for. Thank you, Catriona.”

“As your knowledge is given freely, Mistress Calin, so is mine.”

“Only a slice of what you can do, I’m sure, but on a personal level, your respect for Faery custom is appreciated,” Calin accepted, “I’m delighted to know a half-human keeps one foot in her Faery heritage.”

“More like half a foot, if I’m honest. I’d like to do more, but time pulls me ever forward.”

“Indeed, your life, what I know of it, is ever the adventure, but before I leave you to your research, if you can spare but a moment, there is something I would like to show you.”

“You mean the Mystery of Calin’s Tower?” Cat asked.

“Exactly,” Calin affirmed.

Chapter 16

My mother had read all about Calin’s Tower and knew the legend well. You see, gentle reader, the reason I gave earlier for the location of the Tower was only half the story. The other half had become known as the Mystery of Calin’s Tower, although that was something of a misnomer since the Mystery pre-dated the Tower by centuries. The Tower was simply built around it.

There was a mysterious inscription set in the stone floor at the exact centre of the Tower. Despite its age, it had not suffered from any erosion or damage. In fact, nothing could even mark it. Anything placed over it was either moved or destroyed by forces unknown. The inscription, just three bold symbols, was as clear as if it had been carved yesterday. Unfortunately, no one knew what it was supposed to say. It was utterly unlike any known language form. If indeed it was a language at all.

As I’m sure you’ve realised by now, gentle reader, my mother loved a puzzle, and she had wanted to see the Mystery since she was a little girl. Now that she was here, though, she at first resisted the impulse to be drawn into another mystery when she already had so many and a mission with Daelen to think about.

Daelen, however, maintaining his cover as ‘Dan,’ encouraged her, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we can afford the time. It can’t hurt to just take a look.