The Hidden Fire (Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

of moving. 
Perfecting these simple physical movements will refine your spirit to its
warrior essence, and in turn your warrior essence invites the weird to perfect
your movement.  One comes not before the other.”
    “No
beginning and no end?”
    “Exactly
so.”
    That
afternoon, Aiyan blindfolded himself and handed Kyric his practice sword. 
“Place it somewhere on the main deck, within reach if you please.  Be silent
and give me no clues to where it is.”
    When
it was done, Aiyan turned from side to side, his nose held up like he was
trying to smell it.  He struck out for it with a confident stride, stopping and
sidestepping when the scuttlebutt blocked his path.  He walked past the sword,
then turned and came back, bending down and retrieving it with only a little
groping.
    Returning,
he handed Kyric the blindfold.  “This is a lesson in the knowing of directions. 
Empty yourself.  Open the correct door and you can do this.”
    Kyric
prepared himself as if for a bow shot.  When Aiyan told him to begin, he
breathed out all that was he, and breathed in something greater.  He took one
hesitant step, not really feeling anything.  Then another.  He stopped, and
just let himself go, as if he were floating in water.  Aiyan apparently lost
patience with him then, because he took Kyric by the hand, led him down the
rail, and pulled his fingers straight to the sword.  Kyric picked it up and
stood, tearing the blindfold off and starting to say, “Why did you — ” but
Aiyan was twenty steps away, looking a little nonplussed.
    “Took
me a hundred tries before I did it even once,” he said.  “Maybe it was
beginners luck.”
    Kyric’s hand began to shake.  “I . . . I
don’t think so, Aiyan.”
    The
ship turned eastward the next morning and the ocean turned greener as they
entered the Straits of Terrula.  Kyric had had a restless night, tossing and
turning with the thought of larger forces using him.  It had truly felt like
someone — some thing — had taken hold of his hand.
    The
passage was far wider than he had expected, and they sailed along the rows of
tumbled down cliffs making up the Alerian shore, the land to the south
remaining out of sight.  They crossed to the other side the next day, sighting
the low-lying shore of Terrula and the small colony that Kandin had founded
there.  A dozen tall ships lay at anchor in the harbor.
    “New
Kandin is there to supply the fleets of the Syrolian allies,” Aiyan said. 
“Sevdin and Aeva maintain their squadrons at Ularra, but the Syrolians aren’t
willing to rely on the political circus of the ruling council.”
    The
sun had set behind them and deep twilight had come before they sighted Ularra. 
From a distance Kyric could see clearly that it was the tip of a peninsula. 
The city stood on a great flat rock jutting above forested lowlands that ran
southward.  It grew fully dark as they approached, and two bright lights slowly
grew above the faint glow of the harbor.  The sailing master steered between
them, and when they at last entered the port it was through two curving horns
of rocky land, each one tipped by a huge stone tower.  Large fires burned at
the top of each tower, but not so great as Kyric had imagined when he saw them
miles out to sea.
    “Why
do they seem so bright?” he asked.
    The
sailing master answered.  “They’re each backed by a great bronze mirror.  Makes
them beam.”
    Then
Kyric remembered the story in the Eddur.  The first king of Ularra had been the
mage and artificer, Aelat.  He built sets of lenses and magic mirrors that
could focus the light of the sun so that it would set aflame any ship invading
the harbor.  Aelat had been defeated, of course, when his enemy attacked at
night.  Just a story?  Kyric didn’t know anymore.  He wondered if the burned
remains of ancient warships lay beneath the dark waters.
    After
the ship had docked, Aiyan led Kyric down the gangplank with his sea chest on
one shoulder and