Frostfell_ The Wizards - Mark Sehestedt [0]
The Wizards 04 - Frostfell
A Forgotten Realms Novel
By
Proofread and formatted by BW-SciFi
Ebook version 1.0
Release Date: January, 30th, 2009
Dedication
Hey, my first novel! Who'd'a thunk? This one is for Andi, who thunk and never stopped believing.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to Susan Morris for editorial guidance, patience (ah, especially the patience), encouragement, and all the good story suggestions.
Thanks to Don Bassingthwaite, whose gift of the Tuscarora dictionary helped me to flesh out the culture and language of a band of elves roaming the Endless Wastes.
Thanks to Ed Greenwood. When I asked Susan for any additional information on the War Wizards of Cormyr, she suggested I contact Mr. Greenwood. I did, asking if he had any notes on the War Wizards beyond what have already appeared in published Forgotten Realms® material. He said he had "a few notes"-and sent me forty-nine pages. I kid you not! And he took time from his busy schedule to answer my many questions.
Thanks must also go to James Wyatt, Christopher Perkins, Darrin Drader, and Skip Williams. Their work on the Dungeons Dragons® titles Book of Exalted Deeds and Races of the Wild was a major source of inspiration for the characters in Frostfell. If I got anything wrong, the blame is on me.
Special thanks to the many artists whose albums helped the late nights of writing pass with a lot more inspiration-especially the Dropkick Murphys, Garbage, Maria McKee, the Band, the Police, Willie Nelson, the Alarm, and Johnny Cash.
I would like to thank the Academy-
The gods lie dead where the leaves lie red,
For the flame of the sun is flown,
The gods lie cold where the leaves lie gold,
And a Child comes forth alone.
–G.K. Chesterton
"A Child of the Snows"
CHAPTER ONE
The Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR)
The woods north of the Lake of Mists
in the lands of the Khassidi
Dim dusklight bled from the boughs, and Amira ran through a cloud. The mists grew thicker with each step, dampening her skin and hair. It could mean only one thing: They were nearing the lake.
"Run, Jalan! Don't look back!"
Amira ran behind her son, and she had to strain to keep up with him. Over their pounding feet and her heavy breathing, she could hear the men behind them, and they sounded as if they were getting closer. She didn't know if Walloch had brought the hounds. The slaver sliced the vocal cords of his hounds so that they could never bark above a hoarse whisper. Not that he'd really need the dogs. She had no idea where she was going. She and Jalan were running blind. They didn't know this land, and their enemies did.
Jalan stumbled, almost falling. Amira pulled him to his feet and urged him forward.
"Need… rest," said Jalan.
"Not here. Move. Up!"
Jalan pounded on, heedless of the noise he made, and Amira followed. If Walloch had brought the hounds, hiding would do no good. Their one hope was to reach the lake. If they could only make it there, they could hide themselves in the mists and lose their scent in the water.
The trees and underbrush clustered thick before them. The ground became rocky and uneven, and they found themselves running downhill. Amira and Jalan stumbled over roots, branches, and thick ferns, but they kept going.
"Ut ish vet! Ut!"
The voice came from behind them-much too close. During the years Amira spent fighting the Tuigan Horde, she picked up a bit of the speech-enough to understand the meaning behind the words. Ut ish vet. Ut. There she is! There!
Amira didn't slow. She swore she could smell the heady scent of the lake, but the mists were growing thicker with the onset of evening, and she could see nothing but more trees and brush in every direction. She dared a look back. Three figures, no more than blurry forms in the mist, ran on the trail behind them-and they were gaining. She could hear more not far away.
The ground fell away before Jalan's feet, and he slid down the slope. Amira half-ran and half-fell behind him. She hit the brushy ground beside Jalan, the sudden stop rattling her teeth, but she pushed