The Seer by Rowan McAllister (reading comprehension books .TXT) 📕

him. Daks drew strength from their contact, because he really didn’t want to open his shields. He’d never been this close to one of the holy relics before. Hells, even the Scholomagi kept their most ancient and powerful relics buried deep under the school, so no one could get this close to them. He’d be lucky if he didn’t pass out altogether. But Shura needed him.

Drawing in a steadying breath, he opened his senses and swayed under the first onslaught of power. Ravi wrapped his arms around Daks’s middle, shoring him up. After the shock of the initial wave, Daks found could tolerate the feeling, though every hair on his body stood on end and he’d have a massive headache later.

He opened his eyes in time to see Girik and Tas exchange a soft look before the big man swung a warning look in Daks’s direction—not openly hostile, but promising trouble if Daks stepped out of line. The large, shaggy gold hound at Girik’s heels also gave him the side-eye, and Daks lifted his hands in a placating gesture. Glancing at the two men once more, Daks smothered a knowing smile. Guess the priest had forsaken more than one of his vows to the Brotherhood because the looks they were giving each other were anything but chaste. Despite the vague threat posed by the priest’s companions, the thought actually made Daks feel a little better. It made him more human somehow.

As everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath, Tas closed his eyes and lifted his hand above Shura’s abdomen, drawing Daks’s attention back to him. Energy flowed from the stone on his chest into him and out through his extended palm, concentrated solely on Shura’s belly. Nothing about the magic felt wrong to Daks. In fact, the vibrations were vaguely familiar. They were different from anything he’d sensed from the wizards of Samebar, and nothing at all like the one time he’d felt a pain priest at work—from a very safe distance, of course. He’d met a visiting witch from Ghorazon once in Scholoveld. She’d done a demonstration at the school. That was probably the closest thing he could compare the feeling to.

Shura gasped, drawing his attention back to her. Fara leaned forward, still clutching Shura’s hand, her eyes worried, but Daks could already tell the magic was having a positive effect. The deep lines etched into Shura’s forehead had faded, and some of the color had returned to her skin. The energy traveling through her wasn’t tainted and wasn’t directed anywhere else. Daks would have to trust that was enough, because he didn’t want the man to stop.

After what seemed like far too long, Tas blew out a breath and the energy coursing over Daks’s skin ebbed. Shura sighed and closed her eyes as the rest of the lines of pain on her face eased.

“Shura?” Fara called, leaning forward anxiously.

“She’s all right,” Tas said. “She’s just resting. She’ll need it. The wound is healed, but she may still be fevered from the infection flowing through her body. I could only do so much. Perhaps Lyuc will be able to do more when he returns, but she is out of danger for now and will heal in time, even without further intervention. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Fara said before returning her attention fully to Shura again.

“Thanks,” Daks added gruffly, and the former priest gave him a tired smile.

“I’m still learning to work with the magic as it is, not as it was, but Singer says she will heal quickly.”

“Singer?”

Tas lifted a hand to his chest to indicate the stone. Daks shifted uneasily. He had so many questions he hardly knew where to start.

“I need a drink,” he said, and Ravi snorted at his side despite how bowstring taut his body still was.

The big guy, Girik, smiled. “Tas, are you okay?”

“Yes. I could use a little food, though.”

“Why don’t we leave Shura to get that rest and I’ll take all of you to get a good meal,” Girik offered with a soft smile.

“The horses,” Daks exclaimed, suddenly remembering he’d essentially abandoned them.

“We took care of that,” Girik replied calmly. “If you want to see them, you can, but we’ve put them in the stables with the others. Karn is more used to goats, given that he lived his whole life in the mountains, but he’s turned out to be an excellent stable master. He’ll take good care of them. Come.”

“I’m staying,” Fara said, and Daks gave her a grateful smile.

If she hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t have been willing to leave Shura alone, even though both he and Ravi hadn’t eaten all day.

“Lead the way,” Daks said, and they trailed after the blond giant, keeping a safe distance between themselves and that monstrous hound.

As soon as they were outside, Girik’s hound bounded away from them toward several others of the same size and coloring playing in the river with some children, and Girik watched him go with a fond smile. Daks had heard tales of the mountain clans’ hounds before but never thought to see one. Now he was glad it had moved off.

Daks and Ravi each had a large tankard of some of the best mead Daks had ever tasted, plus a heaping bowl of mutton stew, and were following Girik and Tas to a rough plank table and benches in a green space at the center of the little village when a commotion near the tree line caught everyone’s attention. Daks saw the great black stallion Spawn first and scowled, tensing in instinctive fear, but the man who followed it out of the woods quickly grabbed all of his attention. He was dressed in brightly colored patched robes that almost hurt the eye to look at. But despite the change in clothes, the stranger’s bushy red beard sparked a memory, and Daks froze.

The red-beard who’d eyeballed Ravi in the market was the infamous mage who’d saved Traget from the flood?

Fuck me.

“Lyuc!”

Girik and Tas waved until they caught the