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

which seemed to be spurning her every attempt at wyrding.
    For several moments she struggled, clenching her eyes and straining for all she was worth to produce even a spark of wyrd, but she couldn’t.
    “I’m sorry,” she gasped finally. “I can’t control it.”
    The gnome glared at her as if weighing the truth of her words. “You lie,” he reported. “I know you have wyrd in there,” he said, smacking her leg with his staff. “I must see a production of it before you are able to go anywhere!”
    She sighed, defeated, and raised her hands again.
    Now relax, Pharoh said. You are not trying to expel it by force as if it is a poison to your body. It’s a part of you, let it happen. See what you want to happen, and feel the wyrd responding to your desire.
    Angelica closed her eyes and relaxed, muscle by muscle. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining the slithering heat that flowed through her body or if it was actually wyrd she was feeling, responding to her need and her aunt’s instructions. The heat spread through her until Angelica was filled up with it, and then it seemed to concentrate in her palms. Again, she was not sure whether she was imagining the pinpricks there from past experience, or if her palms were actually twitching. When the pain in the stigmata grew nearly unbearable, she gasped, knowing that she was producing something more than raw imagination.
    “Today would be good,” the gnome said vehemently.
    Without realizing how it happened, her desire and wyrd worked together, and a snap of purple light, like a weak form of lightning or maybe static, crackled at the gnome’s feet, and he danced away. When he finally stopped, he brushed his robes indignantly and glared at her all the harder, though he was obviously pleased with the feel of her wyrd.
    Finally he looked away from her to Jovian. Jovian smirked a little. “The only wyrd I’ve ever done consisted of condemning a whole flock of Hobbedy’s Lanterns to the Otherworld.”
    “Try something less drastic than,” the gnome grunted. “I do not fancy begging at the Black Gates tonight.”
    Somehow Jovian’s wyrd responded to him, much unlike Angelica’s. However, it was not within his control. He closed his eyes and held up one hand, palm up, and tried to conjure a ball of light like the pink one still floating over Joya’s head.
    His eyebrows knit together over his brilliant emerald eyes, and a gust of wind that none of them could feel rustled his curly blond hair, now matted and tangled from days on the road without washing.
    The wind that was being produced around him, shifting his hair and damp clothes, would have been good enough, but then there was also a loud bang that reverberated through the surrounding trees and a red light so bright that it momentarily blinded everyone.
    “Strong wyrd.” The gnome batted the air as if to ward off the light and glared at Jovian much as he had Angelica. “You need to learn control.”
    The gnome turned to Maeven, grunted disdainfully and turned back.
    “We have determined that you are not the dalua we seek. Continue on,” he said, and the gnomes began marshaling back into the woods.
    “Wait!” Joya called. “The dalua you seek is following us.”
    That stopped them, and together they conversed for a time. Finally the one who had accosted them before came back. “We hunt this dalua. You could be bait.”
    Joya slapped her forehead, shaking her head at her stupidity.
    “You would use three of the LaFaye blood to draw out the dalua?” Angelica asked, trying for her haughtiest air.
    The gnome nodded. “Yep,” he said. “We figure that she is hunting you, so she wants you. We care not if you are LaFaye or fish, she wants you and we want her.”
    “We have seen what she has done to sprites before,” Maeven told them. “It was not pretty.”
    “You think to compare us with sprites?” There was laughter all around them from the other gnomes. “They are mere children. We are strong