A Flame in Hali Read Online Free PDF Page A

Neither would he use the immense psychic force of his trained circle to actively defend the Tower. He was content to merely nullify each attack and hope that with time, Rakhal’s men would go on to easier prey. Remembering, Eduin felt an echo of his outrage.
    Days of siege had followed one another, with starvation drawing ever nearer. Finally, made desperate by the Keeper’s inaction, Eduin seized the opportunity to defeat Rakhal’s army. In secret, he assembled a circle of the strongest workers. Together, they sent spells of terror and madness into the minds of the enemy. He would have succeeded if he had not been discovered and taken prisoner by Varzil Ridenow.
    Eduin made no effort to keep the bitterness from his voice as he related this part of the story. In retaliation, Hastur had ordered Hali Tower into the battle. With the very foundations of Hestral Tower crumbling beneath him, Eduin had escaped his imprisonment.
    As Eduin concluded his story, Saravio nodded, his lips pressed together. In that moment, Eduin recognized a sort of kinship.
    We are like brothers, he thought, made unfit for the ordinary world by our talents and training, cast out by those very Towers that made us, forced into a life of hiding.
    It had been so very long since another human being had understood what it was like. Even his father—
    Eduin broke off the thought. One hand went unconsciously to his temple. “I thank you for your help last night. Now I will be on my way.”
    He dared not linger. The risk of discovery was too great, for even another fugitive might be tempted by the rewards of betrayal. Zandru knew, there had been enough times when Eduin would have sold himself for the price of another drink.
    Keep moving, stay out of sight, had been his watch-words since that desperate flight from Hestral Tower.
    He closed the door behind him. With any luck, they would never meet again.

    Outside, the brightness of the day stung Eduin’s eyes. Otherwise, he felt remarkably well. How long that would last, he could not tell. He would use the time to scrabble together some money, perhaps rent a room such as this, lie low for as long as he could.
    For the next two days, he found work hauling water and charcoal for a smith whose apprentice was laid up with lung fever, earning a meal and a room for the night. The urge to drink gnawed at him from time to time, but he forced himself to ignore it. Instead, he curled up on the straw pallet in the shed behind the smithy, hugging himself, holding on. As long as the pressure in his head did not return, he repeated to himself, he would be all right. He could think, begin to plan.
    Hours crept by. At night, he roused to gulp water from the ice-crusted bucket and crawl shivering back to bed. Lying there, waiting for sleep to return, he thought of the dream of light and song. Already, the memory was fading. He could not quite remember where he had been or with whom he had danced, why he had felt such soaring joy. His heart ached with a longing he had no desire to drown in drink. Instead, he clasped it to him like a precious thing, that half-remembered beauty.
    Midway through the third day, the smith had no further need for him. Eduin decided to try one of the livery stables, where he had found work mucking out stalls when he was not too drunk. A couple of them might still hire him. As he made his way to that district, something shifted within him, like a cloud passing before the sun. Pressure brushed his temples and his belly tightened.
    Kill the Hasturs . . . Kill them all . . .
    No, it could not be. Not after so many days.
    Failed . . . whispered the familiar, relentless voice. You have failed.
    His stomach knotted. Bile filled his mouth. He shook like a palsied man. Gods, he wanted a drink. He needed a drink.
    Before he could reach the nearest tavern, the compulsion struck again in full force. He staggered, falling against the side of the building. The edges of rock and mortar jabbed his side through the