Freda Warrington - Jewelfire 2 - The Sapphire Throne

VIP免费

2024-12-23 0 0 1.08MB 246 页 5.9玖币

侵权投诉

THE

SAPPHIRE

THRONE

FREDA WARRINGTON

EARTHLIGHIT

LONDON • SVDNf V • NEW VOtK • TOKYO - SINGAPORE . TOIONTO

www.eartMight.co.uk

Also by Freda Warrington from Earthlight

The Amber Citadel Book One of The Jewelfire Trilogy

First published in Great Britain by Earthlight, 2000

An imprint of Simon & Schuster UK Ltd

A Viacom Company

This book is copyright under the Berne Convention

No reproduction without permission

Earthlight & Design is a registered trademark of

Simon & Schuster Inc.

The right of Freda Warrington to be identified as author of

this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77

and 78 of the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988

Simon & Schuster UK Ltd

Africa House 64-78 Kingsway

London

WC2B 6AH

Simon & Schuster Australia

Sydney

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

13579 108642

ISBN 0-7434-0826-8

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places

and incidents either are products of the author's imagination

or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or

dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental

Typeset in 9'/a on 11 '/2 Meridien by

SX Composing DTP, Rayleigh, Essex

Printed and bound in the UK by Caledonian International Book Manufacturing, Glasgow

Contents

Prelude: Eshte 1 One: Shadows at Luin Trest 5

Two: The Forest Hall 23

Three: The Poet and the Birch Tree 39

Four: The Amber Citadel 59

Five: Falthom 81

Six: Alliances and Secrets 111

Seven: Touching the Flame 139

Eight: Confession 159

Nine: In the Mirror 185

Ten: Quest and Revelation 207

Eleven: Gem Harthnir 229

Twelve: The Road to Vexor 257

Thirteen: Valley of Stone 299

Fourteen: Akarata 321 Fifteen: The Basilisks of Calabethron 351

Sixteen: Verdanholm 383 Seventeen: The Heart of the Jewelfire 407

Eighteen: Zhahgrament 443

Nineteen: Loyalty and Mystery 481

Twenty: Vaurgroth Rising 501

Acknowledgements

For their endless encouragement, moral support and love throughout the writing of the Jewelfire

Trilogy, I especially wish to thank Mike Llewellyn, Justina Robson, and my Mum and Dad. Thanks are

also due to my steadfast agent, John Richard Parker, my incomparable editor, John Jarrold, and to my

dear friends Storm Constantine, Anne Gay, Chris Baker, Rachel Baker, Chris Roe, Lolita Scares and

Jay 'Alice' Cooper . . . not to mention the Brum Writers' Group, who have helped me through many an

awkward chapter. Blessings also upon the Dark Angels of the Nottingham Vampyre Group, for all the

fun and good times. Last but not least I salute Vikki Lee France and the Prophets - past, present and

future - who know my innermost secrets yet who, amazingly, are still friends with me . . . Thank you for

being there, all.

Freda Warrington's web site can be found at: http://members.aol.com/FredaMike/index.html

Prelude: Eshte

The young man arrowed like a salmon through the water.

This was his element. Jthery relished the crystalline chill on his naked body, the caress of waterweed

and the surge of fish startled by his penetration into their green realm. Breaking the surface, he trod water

and turned to look back across the lake. A perfect inversion of the sky hung in the water, mauve and

rose blending to gold. One small moon gemmed the sunset; Lily Moon, attended by two stars.

In the centre of the lake was an island, on which rose the mansion of his family. The walls were

painted softly blue and violet and there was lacy fretwork along each eave and balcony. The house

extended long jetties into the lake, with boats bobbing at their moorings on the liquid gold of the water.

The long windows, too, gave back the sunset.

Inside was Jthery's family; his great-grandmother the Duchess of Mithrain, his grandmother her

immediate heir, his father and mother . . . and all the other grandparents and aunts and cousins, who were

too busy with political concerns to notice that Jthery was happier alone in the lake than in their company.

When they noticed him at all, they called him fey, and lazy, and shook their heads over him. Affectionate

concern, but they still didn't truly see him.

One day Jthery would be Duke of Mithrain, land of amethyst lakes and silver mists. Not until he was a

very old man, though. At nineteen, he wasn't sure that he ever wanted such responsibility. Not after what

had happened to King Garnelys. He didn't know what he craved.

He turned on to his back and floated, looking up at the sky, his pale red-gold hair fanning out like a

halo of waterweed. So peaceful. He was dreaming, desiring something he couldn't even name ...

The lake lurched. The water in front of him exploded.

He was floundering, gasping as the wave surged over him. The lake was shallow here so he could just

manage to find the bottom with his toes. As he flailed upright, coughing and pushing his sodden hair out of

his face, he saw her.

A lovely female form, rising out of the water in front of him. Taller than him and shimmering like glass,

her body was formed of rippling water, her hair a flowing waterfall. Jthery stared at her in complete

terror. An undine, an elemental; the legends told that they seduced young men, only to drown them . . .

'Jthery of Mithrain,' she said. Her voice was the clear music of a spring bubbling over stones.

His own voice, when he managed to speak, was hoarse. 'How do you know my name?'

'You called us.' Her eyes were orbs of bright water.

'No.'

'You don't know it, but you did. You have called to us all your life.'

He shivered. It was true. Gods, she read his mind, she knew him. 'Yes.'

'What do you want?' the undine demanded.

'I -1 don't know. To see you, to know you are real. My lady, I didn't mean to disturb you.' He shook

his head helplessly. 'I always felt the lake was part of me. Forgive me.'

'The lake is yours.’ she said. 'But that means that you, in turn, are ours.'

He shivered. He was afraid he would drown in her shining power, yet the fear was seductive. She

went on, 'You have not disturbed us; we came to you because we need you, Jthery. One who loves the

water as his own lifeblood. For who else will speak for us and act for us in the world of air? The earth is

in turmoil. Have you not felt it?'

He hardly knew how to reply. He clasped one arm across himself, profoundly cold. There - there has

been a war. The King of the Nine Realms is dead. We thought peace had returned, but. ..'

'Only on the surface,' she said. 'Beneath the surface, we feel the truth of it. Your war was only the

outer sign, the froth on the flood. It was all to turn your eyes and attention away from what lay beneath.

Help us, Jthery. Help us and we shall help you!'

'What should I do?' he stammered.

She pointed at him, water falling like rain from her shining arm. 'Someone shall need your aid. You will

know. Will you act for us?'

She towered over him, bright and terrifying. He couldn't refuse her. 'Yes. Lady of the Waters, I'll do

anything for you.'

'For you know who I am?'

Yes, he knew. No mere undine, this, but a Goddess. 'Eshte,' he whispered.

At that she smiled. Her hand reached for him and caressed his chest, spilling a sudden stream of

warmth over him. 'What do you want?' she asked again.

'Nothing, my lady.'

'It's a simple question.' Her voice became gentle. 'What do you want for yourself?'

'I don't know.' He shifted awkwardly, but she wouldn't be denied. 'To be loved, I suppose.'

'And you will be.' Her form was becoming less distinct, her voice fading into the rush of water. 'But

beware, Jthery. There are different kinds of love waiting for you. One is true, the other is false and lethal.

The wisdom to know the difference lies only within you. And we rely on you, all of the Earth relies upon

you to make the right choice! Water is life, Jthery. You are going forth to preserve the very life-blood of

the Earth. So tread carefully, and wisely, for your choices may save or doom us all.'

The goddess's water-form surged upwards. She became a silver fountain that rose and fell as an icy

deluge. The force of it thrust Jthery under the water. He was drowning, wide-eyed, seeing impossible

phantom fish and sea-serpents writhing towards him through a mass of bubbles. Then a great surge of

water pushed him. As he was swept away he saw silver ripples in the shape of a dozen hands, pulling at

him, dragging him down to sweet death amid the writhing weeds.

When he came back to consciousness he was lying on the shore of the lake. The sand was warm

beneath him. He felt dazed. Such terrifying visions ...

There was something pressing into his palm. Opening his hand he found a jewel there; an amethyst

carved in the shape of a carp, with a drop of clear aquamarine suspended below it by a silver link. The

carp hung in turn from a round white moon of opal. He sat up, staring in awe at the jewel.

Then he knew.

Eshte had been real. She had given him a gift. Her symbol. Everything Jthery did from now on would

be hi her service.

He stood up, his long body pale against the violet sunset, the violet lake. It was time to return to the

house and break the news, but he wasn't afraid. The Goddess had given him more than a jewel; she had

given him the simple knowledge that he did not need the approval of his family, nor a summons from the

Amber Citadel, nor any reason greater than his own instinct. He could simply leave.

Chapter One. Shadows at Luin Trest

Eldareth emerged wearily from the Seer's hut and stood blinking in the brilliant dawn. He was in

shock. His body still thrummed with the last tremors of struggle, despair and, at the end, soul-heavy

resignation. He squinted at the bleached sky and drew a breath, let it go in a long sigh of exhaustion.

He'd had to escape the dark interior of the hovel, with its miasma of animals, smoke and sorcery. He

needed fresh air. It was hard to believe, after what he'd seen, that the real world was still here. The steep

green slopes of the Serpentine Mountains rolled in every direction, away into the silvery haze of the

horizon. Birds were chirping in the trees and goats grazing on the turf roof of the hut, oblivious to what

had happened inside.

The world was still here. But Tanthe was no longer in it.

Eldareth the Wanderer sank down on the grass, elbows resting on his knees and his head drooping

between them. I let her down, he thought. I failed to keep her out of the portal. I feel as if - damn it, she

was not my responsibility and yet I feel as if I betrayed her!

Dull stirring of older, deeper guilt. . .

There was a movement near him. Eldareth looked up.

Standing hi front of him was a silvery figure, eighteen inches high, posing with its hands on its hips and

a quizzical look in its black eyes. It was the Seer's secretary, Loga, a male of the race called Zampherai

or Subterraneans or occasionally, by uncharitable humans, maggots.

'Well?' said Loga.

'Is it safe for you to be out hi daylight?' Eldareth said irascibly. 'I thought the Zampherai only felt safe

underground, or at least in the dark.'

The tiny man shrugged. 'I'm not going to dissolve. I can't see particularly well, that's all, any more than

you can by night. Your face is a sort of white blur, with flares coming off it; nasty.'

'Thank you.'

'I meant, nasty as in angry-looking.'

'I am angry,' said Eldareth. 'Not with you, not even with the Seer, though the gods know I should be.

With myself.'

'So, you're going to sit here and sulk about it?'

'I'm not sulking. I'm trying to decide what to do next.'

The secretary hopped up on to Eldareth's bony knee and sat there, staring at him with fathomless,

mole-blind eyes. 'It wasn't your fault, my lord Eldareth. Tanthe decided to go. You and the Seer tried to

hold on to her; she fought you off. It was her decision.'

'Yes, but what does she know? She's twenty-one, lived all her life in the same village, brought up with

a ridiculously naive, romantic view of the Aelyr. I am twice her age, I've travelled everywhere, seen

everything. I know the dangers. I should have stopped her!'

The secretary shifted, drumming his heels against Eldareth's thigh. 'Nothing could have stopped her.

Come back inside, have a drink to steady yourself. We have whisky from the Serpent Isles.'

'If it is not all inside your master by now,' Eldareth said darkly. 'It's good of you to show such

concern, Loga. More than the Seer has done. He obviously can't wait to see the back of me.'

'He's mortified,' said Loga.

'So he should be. So am I. What am I going to tell the people she left behind - her friends, her lover,

her sister? "I let this happen to Tanthe and oh, by the way, you are probably never going to see her

again?"

Eldareth closed his eyes. He couldn't get the tang of other-world energy out of his nostrils; an earthy

scent like rain mingled with electricity and some other intangible perfume. The scene unfolded again

through his mind; he couldn't stop it, could only wish hopelessly to change the ending.

They'd been in Parione - trying to restore normality after the civil war - when Tanthe had come to him

and asked his help. She was being haunted by visions of an Aelyr male, she said, and must find out what

the visions meant. So Eldareth had brought her here, two long days' ride from Parione, to the Seer's

remote hut in the Serpentines.

The Seer - whom Eldareth nicknamed Fox as much for his character as his hair - had accepted the

usual payment of wine and raids and given the usual warnings. In the centre of the hut stood a well,

capped with a disc of polished crystal. Tanthe would see images in this disc, the Seer told her, but she

must not expect him to interpret them for her. Must not even tell him what she saw, he insisted, for he

was only a vessel of transmission.

The four of them had seated themselves around the well; the Seer, Tanthe, Eldareth, and even Loga,

who normally concealed himself beneath the Seer's chair to make a record of proceedings. Then came

darkness and the thick stench of animals rising around them... Fox and Tanthe chanting, sinking into

mutual trance . . . lines of light swirling in the crystal disc ... a picture forming of another world, the realm

of the Aelyr, deep green and blue . . . And although this was meant to be Tanthe's vision, Eldareth saw it

too. In growing amazement he had watched Tanthe reaching out, speaking urgently to the young Aelyr

man who formed and floated in the light...

And then it all went wrong.

A pair of hands came bursting up through the crystal as if through water, and seized Tanthe. The

crystal dissolved, green light flared from the shaft of the well, and the auburn-haired Aelyr hung there in

the glow, gripping Tanthe's hand and begging her to go with him.

The well had turned into a portal between worlds. Tanthe was being dragged into it.

Eldareth had caught hold of her, struggling to keep her in the hut. Voices echoed in his ears; his own,

the Seer's dismayed horror, the soft desperate pleading of the Aelyr male, Tanthe's confusion. The

whirling column of energy, the electric scent. Panic.

She'd turned to Eldareth, wide-eyed, asking desperately for his advice. He'd tried and failed. He'd

been so stupid; told her a secret he should have kept to himself. That had done it. His unguarded words

had sent her diving into the portal, insisting that she must know the truth, whatever the risks.

So it was his fault. If only he'd kept his mouth shut - too late now. She had ripped herself out of

Eldareth's hands, stepped into the waiting arms of the Aelyr. The peacock light had swallowed them

both. It flared, narrowed to a taper, and was sucked into the well. Then the crystal reformed, a thin hard

barrier, and all was dark once more. Tanthe was gone.

Eldareth shuddered. The memory was so violent, so vivid. It had only happened a few hours ago.

All night, he and the Seer had laboured to reconjure the portal, to no avail. The Seer was only that; a

visionary, not a sorcerer. In truth he hadn't the faintest idea how a portal was to be created, and neither

had Eldareth. Some powerful interaction between Tanthe and the Aelyr had created it, and those

conditions could not be recaptured in a thousand years. Fox, of course, already knew that, and as a

result had been in an increasingly foul mood all night. But Eldareth had refused to give up until dawn

broke, finally forcing him to accept that the well of vision was dark and cold, and bound to remain so.

He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. He loved Tanthe as a friend, almost a daughter. He

felt responsible for her, and simply couldn't believe he had let her down so drastically.

He looked up and saw Fox in the doorway of the hut, leaning on the wattle frame, flask of whisky in

hand. He was a slender, nut-brown man in his mid-thirties - so it appeared - with a white streak in his

long russet hair and a sour expression on his face.

'You don't care about this, do you?' said Eldareth. Loga jumped down as he stood up. 'It wouldn't be

so bad if you cared. If you had put some energy into finding her instead of making it so obvious you want

me gone.'

The Seer gave a sneering hmph. 'Could you explain to me how I should care about someone I do not

know? I didn't solicit her business and I certainly did not ask to have my Well of Vision abused by the

creation of a portal. I didn't create it - she did. And it was her decision, I seem to recall, to pass through

it. So she got what she paid for, and more, did she not?' He raised the flask to his lips.

In two strides Eldareth reached him, gripped the hand that held the whisky, snarled into the Seer's

pinched face. 'You may drink to forget all your other visions, Fox, but by Nuth and Anuth, you are not

going to forget this one! Gods, I held you in such awe the first time I came here. A visionary who could

draw images from the ether or from the deep subconscious; I thought you so wise, so mystical. Living

文档加载中……请稍候！
如果长时间未打开，您也可以点击刷新试试。

下载文档到电脑，查找使用更方便

5.9 玖币 0人已下载

立即下载 VIP免费下载

摘要：

THESAPPHIRETHRONEFREDAWARRINGTONEARTHLIGHITLONDON•SVDNfV•NEWVOtK•TOKYO-SINGAPORE.TOIONTOwww.eartMight.co.ukAlsobyFredaWarringtonfromEarthlightTheAmberCitadelBookOneofTheJewelfireTrilogyFirstpublishedinGreatBritainbyEarthlight,2000AnimprintofSimon&SchusterUKLtdAViacomCompanyCopyright©FredaWarrington2...

展开>> 收起<<

Freda Warrington - Jewelfire 2 - The Sapphire Throne.pdf

共246页,预览50页

还剩页未读，继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

Freda Warrington - Jewelfire 2 - The Sapphire Throne

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: