Curse of the Shadowmage - Mark Anthony [62]
They looked up in shock to see a face hovering outside the narrow window. The light of the flickering candle revealed the speaker for a wizened woman with straggly gray hair. Her face looked as tough as old leather, and her bright obsidian eyes were nearly lost in masses of wrinkled skin.
"Who are you?" Mari asked breathlessly. The ancient woman laughed, a sound like the call of a crow. "No one and nothing," she replied hoarsely. "A bad memory, and one best forgotten. That's all. And who are you?"
The old woman seemed more than half mad, but she might be able to help them. "We're on a quest," Mari replied.
"Truly?" the old woman said caustically. "Well, if you are searching for a bad end, then your quest is over, for you've found that here."
Mari winced. That reply hardly showed a helpful attitude.
"My friend has been hurt," Kellen said gravely.
"And what makes you think I can do anything about it?" the old woman snapped.
Kellen didn't even blink. "I imagine that you're very wise, that's all."
The old woman grunted at this. "Well, you'd be right to imagine so," she said in a surly tone. "And my wisdom tells me that I am too old and far too weary to concern myself with a lot of meddlers and troublemakers. I would say farewell, but I suppose it would be wasted on you, so I'll say nothing at all." She started to draw away.
"Wait!" Kellen cried, reaching his hand toward the window.
The old woman froze. A hissing sound escaped her lips. At last she whispered in a voice filled with wonder and dread. "The child wizard…"
With swiftness surprising in one so old, she reached through the narrow opening and clutched Kellen's hand before he could pull away. She ran a gnarled finger over the puckered scar on his left palm. "So young, yet already marked by magic," she murmured in awe. "Of course. After all this time, I had dared to let myself forget. I waited so long, you see, but you never came. Finally I dismissed the prophecy as foolishness. And now, in the dark winter of my life, you have come at last." Her voice became a moan of despair. "But why have you waited all these years? Why have you come when I am so old, so weak, so tired?"
Kellen managed to pull his hand out of her gnarled grasp. He gave her a frightened look. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not a wizard. Not yet, anyway."
The old woman laughed at this, an eerie sound. "But you will be. You will be a wizard the likes of which this world has never known. Ah, but do I have the strength to do what I must?" She fell silent.
Mari stepped forward. "Please, listen to me," she said earnestly. "You seem to know much I don't pretend to understand. Won't you help us, so we can talk with you more about… about this prophecy?"
The old woman hesitated, then vanished from the window,
Mari groaned in despair. Abruptly the old woman reappeared and thrust a hand through the window. "Here, place this on the mage's chest," she ordered.
Mari took the proffered object. It was a small black seed. She thought to question the old woman, then bit her tongue. This was not the time to annoy the stranger. She knelt before Morhion and unlaced his shirt, then placed the tiny seed on the pale flesh above his heart.
At first nothing happened. She traded skeptical looks with Cormik and Jewel. Perhaps the old woman was mad after all. Then Kellen whispered softly, "Look."
The seed was sprouting. As they watched in wonder, a small, dark purple leaf unfurled itself from the seed, and a root tendril snaked outward, plunging into the flesh of Morhion's chest. More leaves uncurled themselves, and the strange purple plant grew larger as its roots sank deeper into Morhion's body. The mage trembled, and his back arched off the stone beneath him.
"It's hurting him!" Mari cried out in horror, reaching to pull thee magical plant from his body.
"Stop!" the old woman commanded. Something in her voice made Mari freeze. "If you pluck the heartroot out now, your friend will surely perish."
Mari forced herself to