The Well of Wyrding (Revenant Wyrd Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

she’d seen bishops wear. The light came from a tiny torch that he held aloft as if to better study who he was talking to.
    “Y-yes,” Joya stuttered, his presence doing nothing for her fear. She watched the small yellow light bobbing over his head, illuminating the gnarled features of his face as he scrutinized her. He appeared to be toothless, gnawing on his tongue as he appraised them critically, and one eye seemed bigger as he studied them from head to foot.
    “Prove it,” he said, and other lights joined his from out of the fog-clotted darkness. Where had Tegaris gone? Joya wondered, now noticing that his light was nowhere in sight.
    “How are we to prove it?” Angelica asked.
    “If you are really of the LaFaye line, I’m sure that you can produce some feat of wyrd for us — do so!” The little man demanded, apparently not understanding just how impossible his request was.
    “But the Well of Wyrding,” Joya protested. “Our wyrd could go horribly wrong and do something disastrous.”
    “You have the protection of the gnomes for now,” the gnome before her said, apparently thinking her concern was not a good enough excuse for not doing what he demanded. “Do it.”
    Joya closed her eyes, her breath becoming ragged and frightened. Now able to move, she held her shaking hands out before her, and in the center of her palms snapped a bright pink light several times, each time fizzling out. She tried to laugh it off nervously and took a few steadying breaths, looking as though she were whispering something to herself that none of them could hear.
    She held her hands out again, more steady this time, and there glowed a slight light, pink and beautiful. It grew and grew, and before they knew it there was a little pink orb floating above them, casting light all around like a tiny sun.
    The gnome nodded curtly and turned to the others. “You now,” he said to Angelica. “Do something,” the gnome waved his hands about as if he were showing her precisely what she should do.
    “What if I don’t have any wyrd?” Angelica protested. The sensation of not being able to move was lifting from her now that the gnomes wanted something from her.
    “You would lie to the gnomes?” he asked and Angelica had the distinct feeling that this was not something that should be done. She shook her head vigorously. “Then prove it!”
    She didn’t know what to do. Angelica had never consciously worked her wyrd before. She decided to try for something like Joya had done and held her hands out. She closed her eyes determined and felt for the spark of wyrd within her, but could not feel anything.
    All she needed was a spark of light, an orb, nothing more than a marble size. Angelica never realized how hard it was to produce even a modicum of wyrd when she didn’t know how. Joya and Porillon made it seem so easy, and the night that other force had taken over her body she had felt it course through her easily, but now, focusing on it, she couldn’t do anything.
    She screwed up her face as she stared at her palms, hoping that the stigmatic white dots therein would spill forth some secret that might help her. They didn’t, and still she struggled, not realizing how intently she was watching her hands and how taut her body was becoming with the rising tension.
    The gnome sighed and tapped a heavy, grimy foot on the ground. He crossed his arms and glared at her, and she was keenly aware of how hateful these little creatures were.
    “Perhaps you were right,” he scoffed. “I guess you don’t have any wyrd.” Angelica knew that it was a taunt and didn’t give up; if anything she became more determined to produce even a whiff of smoke. With any luck she would not be free of the corruption and the cantankerous beast before her would choke as the tendril of smoke spun out of control. . . .
    The gnome smiled, realizing how much his words had affected her.
    Relax, the voice of her aunt intruded on her as she scowled at her palms,