The Warlock Enraged-Warlock 4 Read Online Free PDF
Author: Christopher Stasheff
his field of view. The familiar roaring thundered in his ears, and power thrilled through every vein. One thought filled him, only one—to see the creature torn to bits.
Behind him, though, Gwen retreated, keeping her face toward the monster, pulling Magnus and Cordelia by their hands, along with her.
The monster floundered to its feet and turned toward Rod, its face contorted with hate, claws lifting to pounce; but Rod's arm was raising, forefinger stiffened to focus his powers.
Gwen's eyes narrowed, and her children squeezed their eyes shut.
Black Annis exploded into a hundred wriggling fragments. Rod roared in rage, cheated of his revenge; but Gwen cried to her two youngest, "Rise and follow!" For the wriggling fragments kept writhing and, as they fell to earth, ran leaping away, long-eared and puff-tailed, fleeing back toward the wood.
Rod clamped his jaw and ran after them.
But Gwen was beside him, pacing him on her broomstick, gripping his arm and calling to him through the bloodhaze. Distantly through the roaring, he heard her: "My lord, it was not real! 'Twas a phantom, made of witch-moss!" That stung through; for 'witch-moss' was a fungus pe-culiar to this planet, telepathically sensitive. If a projective esper thought hard at a lump of it, it would turn into whatever he or she was thinking about.
Which meant there had to be a projective esper around. Gwen was tugging at his arm, falling behind. "Softly, mine husband! Fall back, and wait! If this monster was made o' purpose, 'tis toward the purposer that these conies
THE WARLOCK ENRAGED 25
we've made from it do flee! Yet if that villain doth take sight of thee, he'll flee ere we can seize him!"
"I'll blast him into oxides," Rod muttered, but sense began to poke through his battle-madness.
"A pile of dust cannot tell us what we wish to know!" Gwen cried, and, finally, Rod began to slow. The master who had made this monster, was nothing; what mattered was the one who'd pulled his strings. That was the ogre who'd threatened Rod's children. "Black Annis eats babies," he muttered, and the rage began to build again.
"Black Annis is an old wives' tale!" Gwen's voice whipped, and stung through to him. "In Tir Chlis she did truly live, mayhap, but not in Gramarye! Here, she's only crafted out of witch-moss! Here, 'tis a sorcerer who doth scorn babes!"
Rod halted, trembling, and nodded. "And it's the scorcerer we've got to catch—yes! But to find him, we have to question the minion that sent the monster against us!" His lips pulled back against his teeth. "That questioning, I think I'll enjoy!"
Gwen shuddered, and implored, "Hold thyself in check, I prithee! Knowledge is our goal, not joy in cruelty."
"Just tell me where he is. Who's spotting?... Oh. The kids." He stilled, listening mentally for his children's call—
and muttering, "Fess, to me. When we need to ride, we'll need full speed."
The great black horse drummed up beside him, just as Cordelia's cry came, "Here!"
Rod leaped astride Fess, and they tore off through the night. The robot's radar probed the darkened landscape, and Fess hurdled fallen trunks and streams as though he rode a close-clipped steeplechase course. Gwen swooped above the trees; but Fess broke from cover as she began her downward strike.
Her target was a high-walled wagon with a roof. A woman stood in its open door, silhouetted by candlelight. She darted a glance at Gwen, then whirled, to stare first toward the north, and Cordelia, then toward the east, and Gregory, then toward Geoffrey, then Magnus. She darted back inside, slamming the door; but she reappeared at the driver's seat, catching up the reins. Her horses lifted their heads and 26 Christopher Stasheff
turned out into the meadow, pulling the caravan about... And she stared, appalled, at the horde of rabbits who filled the meadow—and the great black horse who thundered up behind them. Then both her arms snapped out straight, fingers pointing—The rabbits leaped
Behind him, though, Gwen retreated, keeping her face toward the monster, pulling Magnus and Cordelia by their hands, along with her.
The monster floundered to its feet and turned toward Rod, its face contorted with hate, claws lifting to pounce; but Rod's arm was raising, forefinger stiffened to focus his powers.
Gwen's eyes narrowed, and her children squeezed their eyes shut.
Black Annis exploded into a hundred wriggling fragments. Rod roared in rage, cheated of his revenge; but Gwen cried to her two youngest, "Rise and follow!" For the wriggling fragments kept writhing and, as they fell to earth, ran leaping away, long-eared and puff-tailed, fleeing back toward the wood.
Rod clamped his jaw and ran after them.
But Gwen was beside him, pacing him on her broomstick, gripping his arm and calling to him through the bloodhaze. Distantly through the roaring, he heard her: "My lord, it was not real! 'Twas a phantom, made of witch-moss!" That stung through; for 'witch-moss' was a fungus pe-culiar to this planet, telepathically sensitive. If a projective esper thought hard at a lump of it, it would turn into whatever he or she was thinking about.
Which meant there had to be a projective esper around. Gwen was tugging at his arm, falling behind. "Softly, mine husband! Fall back, and wait! If this monster was made o' purpose, 'tis toward the purposer that these conies
THE WARLOCK ENRAGED 25
we've made from it do flee! Yet if that villain doth take sight of thee, he'll flee ere we can seize him!"
"I'll blast him into oxides," Rod muttered, but sense began to poke through his battle-madness.
"A pile of dust cannot tell us what we wish to know!" Gwen cried, and, finally, Rod began to slow. The master who had made this monster, was nothing; what mattered was the one who'd pulled his strings. That was the ogre who'd threatened Rod's children. "Black Annis eats babies," he muttered, and the rage began to build again.
"Black Annis is an old wives' tale!" Gwen's voice whipped, and stung through to him. "In Tir Chlis she did truly live, mayhap, but not in Gramarye! Here, she's only crafted out of witch-moss! Here, 'tis a sorcerer who doth scorn babes!"
Rod halted, trembling, and nodded. "And it's the scorcerer we've got to catch—yes! But to find him, we have to question the minion that sent the monster against us!" His lips pulled back against his teeth. "That questioning, I think I'll enjoy!"
Gwen shuddered, and implored, "Hold thyself in check, I prithee! Knowledge is our goal, not joy in cruelty."
"Just tell me where he is. Who's spotting?... Oh. The kids." He stilled, listening mentally for his children's call—
and muttering, "Fess, to me. When we need to ride, we'll need full speed."
The great black horse drummed up beside him, just as Cordelia's cry came, "Here!"
Rod leaped astride Fess, and they tore off through the night. The robot's radar probed the darkened landscape, and Fess hurdled fallen trunks and streams as though he rode a close-clipped steeplechase course. Gwen swooped above the trees; but Fess broke from cover as she began her downward strike.
Her target was a high-walled wagon with a roof. A woman stood in its open door, silhouetted by candlelight. She darted a glance at Gwen, then whirled, to stare first toward the north, and Cordelia, then toward the east, and Gregory, then toward Geoffrey, then Magnus. She darted back inside, slamming the door; but she reappeared at the driver's seat, catching up the reins. Her horses lifted their heads and 26 Christopher Stasheff
turned out into the meadow, pulling the caravan about... And she stared, appalled, at the horde of rabbits who filled the meadow—and the great black horse who thundered up behind them. Then both her arms snapped out straight, fingers pointing—The rabbits leaped
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