Lightnings Daughter by Mary Herbert (read me a book txt) 📕

rested, Gabria had a chance to look around their little shelter. The temple was bigger than the one in which she had spent the winter, but it, too, was simple and unadorned. The only real difference between the houses of worship---apart from then state of repair---was a magnificently carved stone altar. Even under the din and cobwebs, Gabria could see the detailed design. One large figure on the front of the altar caught her eye in the pale light filtering through the doorway.

She scraped off the dirt from the stone and smiled to herself.

"Look at this," she whispered to Tam and Nara. The girl and the mare picked their way to her side.

She showed them her find---a large relief of a man mounted on a Hunnuli stallion. From the lightning bolt in his hand, Gabria knew the man was supposed to be Valorian. The clans' Hero-Warrior had used the power of the lightning to give the Hunnuli their remarkable resistance to magic.

Nara moved around Tam to get a better look. As the mare did so, her hind hoof slipped on a loose slab of rock. She lost her balance, fell sideways, and crashed into the altar.

"Nara!" Gabria cried in alarm. To her immense relief, the mare staggered to her feet and shook herself ruefully.

I am bruised but unhurt, the mare reassured her. I should watch where I am stepping.

Tam grabbed Gabria's sleeve and pointed to the altar. The big stone altar had appeared to be a solid chunk of white marble, but the Hunnuli had knocked one side loose. With an exclamation, Gabria scrambled over to look. The whole side of the altar was a cleverly hinged door.

Gabria pul ed the door open and peered inside. At first she saw nothing but dust in the dark interior. She reached gingerly into the cavity, feeling the cold stone and dirt beneath her fingers. She lifted the only thing hidden in the altar's interior with great care and laid the object on the floor.

Whatever it was, it was heavy and wrapped in a stained piece of fine linen.

Gabria looked at Tam and the two grinned at each other like children with a present. The colt pushed close for a look.

Nara snorted. Are you going to unwrap it?

Her fingers trembling slightly, Gabria pulled back the fabric to reveal a mask of solid gold. She dropped the linen and stared. It was the face of a man, beautifully wrought and polished to a brilliant shine. In wonder she reached out to touch it. A strange tingling tickled her fingers, and she froze, her fingertips still resting on the golden surface. A faint pulse of power vibrated out of the mask into her hand. She had sensed power like that in the healing stone Piers sometimes used and in a brooch Lord Medb had once given Lord Savaric. It was the power of magic.

Without a second thought, she wrapped the mask back to its linen cover and tied it to her belt. "It's time to go,” she said.

Do you know what the mask is? Nara asked as the little group moved to the door.

The sorceress shook her head. "No. But it is a prize too precious to leave here."

They slipped outside, and, after Treader and Nara made sure the area was safe, Gabria and Tam remounted. They tried to head back the way they had come. It was not long, though, before Gabria realized they were completely lost.

Gabria glanced worriedly at the sun. The day had passed to late afternoon. She did not relish spending the night in the old city with a living stone lion, Branth, or any other evil creature that might be loose.

She was lost in thought, pondering their unsettling situation, when Tam tapped on her shoulder.

The little girl pointed to a magpie flapping overhead. She closed her eyes and raised her hand toward the bird.

To Gabria's amazement, the magpie fluttered down to Tam's hand. It squawked loudly. Go to the next street. Turn at the broken statue, the bird said in her mind. The sorceress turned to the little girl and grinned proudly before she passed the information on to Nara.

They fol owed the magpie's instructions and wound through the ruins to a broad avenue. Far ahead they saw a high wall with an open arch. There was no sign of the Korg or Branth, but to Gabria's endless relief, she heard a shout and saw two riders come out of the shadow of the wall. A few moments later, three more riders, Athlone among them, came out of the ruins and gal oped toward the mare, whooping with relief. The entire party met near the wal and greeted one another in joy.

Secen, who had been scouting the area, came riding in through the open arch. The warrior beamed with pleasure when he saw Gabria. "You're safe! Praise Surgart." He turned to Athlone. "I've found him, Lord Branth left the ruins through another gate. The trail leads west."

"Let's be after him," Athlone said. "I have no desire to stay and see that Korg again."

The others wholeheartedly agreed, and they thankful y rode out of Moy Tura behind Secen.

Somewhere in the ancient ruins, the lion roared a cry of anger and hopelessness. Gabria glanced back in sadness for the magic-wielders who had been lost in blood and violence. She prayed that such a thing would never happen again. Tightening the knot that held the mask to her belt, she fol owed her companions as they resumed their hunt for the renegade chieftain.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Gabria did not show the mask to her companions until the next day, when they were away from the desolate ruins of Moy Tura. The party stopped at noon to eat and rest the horses, and she brought out the stained linen bundle and laid it on the grass in front of her. The men and Tam gathered around to