Wheel of Stars Read Online Free PDF

as the nymph, but wholly evil in its aspect.
    “Nikon,” again Gwennan repeated the name. She frowned, trying not to look too closely, even though it drew her. If these were legendary creatures of mythology it was a series of legends new to her. She recognized neither name.
    “Yes,” once more mockery was in his voice. The girl half expected him to break into laughter at her ignorance. “Now there is—”
    “Miss Daggert—” The cool, yet welcome sound of her own name was like a small, clean breeze in that dark place. It banished the influence she was half aware Tor Lyle could exert at will.
    Gwenan turned, relieved, on the verge of a small new happiness, to greet her hostess.
    As the young man, who now actually appeared a little diminished in his glitter, the mistress of the house wore a long velvet gown. The robe-like garment was simply cut, without any ornamentation. Still it added to her stature—almost having the character of the classic garb of a priestess far removed from the world in which Gwennan moved—the world which lay outside these thick walls around her now.
    It was grey and caught in about her waist by a twisted cord of tarnished silver. Around Lady Lyle’s neck a chain of the same dulled metal supported a disc surmounted by the upturned hornsof a crescent—both lacking the intricate embellishment which complicated the pattern of a sun disc worn by Tor.
    “So—” she glanced beyond Gwennan now at her young kinsman. The girl who had never considered herself particularly observant, nor attuned to others’ moods, was aware of a strain. As if, between these two, there was discord which could only be feebly sensed, perhaps never open to such action as she herself might understand.
    Now Tor appeared to yield ground willingly, though Gwennan was still convinced that the mockery had not vanished from either his eyes or the curve of his mouth. He stepped back, allowed Lady Lyle to sweep the girl with her into an adjoining room. Biding his time—why had that particular thought crossed her mind now? Gwennan had only an instant or so to question before she became the willing guest — the ensorcelled visitor.
    For ensorcelled she was, dazzled, charmed as never before. They dined, Lady Lyle at the head of a dark, old table, seated in a chair with a tall carven back, seeming more and more to wear the guise of a queen enthroned. Gwennan felt lost in a similar chair, her fingers now and then slipping along its arms, aware of the twisting of carvings she did not have a chance to see plainly.
    Tor Lyle was opposite her across that spread of wood on which crystal and fragile china, silver, cobweb lace and linen made islands. Nor did he once break into the conversation which Lady Lyle maintained, though he drank constantly from a tall stemmed goblet, small sips of an amber-coloredwine, which Gwennan had tactfully refused. From Miss Nessa’s household all such indulgences had been banished and she mistrusted her own reaction to that particular offering.
    At her refusal Lady Lyle had nodded, almost as if she had approved and Gwennan noted gratefully that she herself had riot allowed her own waiting goblet to be filled.
    No, Tor Lyle did not speak. His eyes, a little narrowed as they had been at their first meeting by the mound, went from Gwennan to Lady Lyle and back again. He might be a man confronted by some puzzle which it was very necessary that he solve.
    Having finished their meal, the mistress of the house once more led the way into another room, again wall-panelled. The wood had been painted, and the colors were freshly bright as if age had never touched. A brush, wet-tipped, might just have been raised from a last curve. There were figures pictured, which were wholly human, behind them the rise of cities and towns—some drawn with that lack of perspective which had never troubled artists of the past. They seemed to flow from one stretch of wall to the next, and Gwennan guessed that all were meant to