Читать книгу Peril’s Gate - Janny Wurts, Janny Wurts - Страница 10

At the focus circle under Methisle fortress, near the hour of solstice midnight, the discorporate Sorcerer Kharadmon stands with Verrain under shimmering nets of wards, poised to bind the last of seven critically damaged lane currents back to stability; and while the pair labor to restore the earth’s balance, the star wards against Marak, left unwatched during crisis, flare a strident, red cry of warning…

Far southward, in the Salt Fens above Earle, the Sorcerer Asandir dismounts his blown horse by the outer ward ring that contains the endangering dreams of Eckracken’s haunt; in competent, brisk order, he takes over the burden of Sethvir’s stayspell, disperses the questing storm of iyats, then sets about the delicate task of restoring the spells that contain the forces of unbinding chaos…

Still bedridden in trance at Althain Tower, Sethvir recovers command of the earth link; and, amid the uprush of restored awareness, he assimilates the near culmination of solstice, then an alarming new development that drives him bolt upright, as a nexus of forces converge on the lane tide about to rake south through the Skyshiels; ‘Luhaine!’ he gasps in urgent command. ‘Your service is needed at once in Rathain…!’