Red Magic - Jean Rabe [119]
The druid dropped to his knees before the smooth stone wall. Spreading his fingers wide along the base of the stone, he placed his forehead against the wall, almost as if he were pushing against it. Then he began to hum a low, simple tune Brenna had never heard. As a child, the sorceress had been told stories that powerful druids were able to talk to the very earth, get stones to speak, dirt to sing, and the ground to reveal its secrets. She hadn't dreamed that Galvin possessed such abilities.
The young councilwoman always assumed that the arcane energies of magic were the most powerful forces in the realm. Yet without any of that, using merely simple gesture and tune, the druid was performing a type of magic she thought was only legend.
Suddenly the stone began to hum back, a low, deep, vibrating sound.
She watched Galvin tremble and begin to perspire, as if the effort of talking to the stone was taking everything out of him. The druid continued the process for nearly half an hour, then collapsed, gasping, against the wall. Much to her amazement, Brenna noticed that the wall was also sweating. Brenna rushed to him and used her robe to dab his face.
"Galvin, are you all right? Please tell me you're all right. Did you actually speak to the wall? Did you?"
"I'll… be okay," he said weakly. "It's magic I don't call upon often because it takes so much out of me-and out of the rock. Stone always seems to think it has all the time in the world to say what it has to say." He steadied himself against the wall with both hands, drawing in as much air as his lungs could hold.
"We're going to have to convince the undead to wait awhile longer. I'm not going to be able to go anywhere for several hours now. You'd better let the wraiths inside the tower and I'll tell them."
"What did you find out?" Brenna's curiosity couldn't be contained.
"Let the wraiths in first. I only want to go through this once."
Brenna shivered. The last thing she wanted was to deal with the undead again, but she accepted the fact that Galvin was right-the dead would have to be told what was going on, or they weren't likely to continue to cooperate.
Within moments, the dark shapes were swirling about the druid, begging him to extinguish some of the candles so they could move about more comfortably.
"Weak you are," the closest one whispered to the druid in haunting tones. The wraith tried to hover where the light was softest. "Perhaps you will be with us soon, wrapped in the sweet embrace of death."
"Noooo," another groaned, its raspy voice unnerving Wynter and Brenna. Galvin was too exhausted to be bothered by its unnatural speech. "The human cannot yet kiss the rich, dark earth of the grave, the welcoming taste of unlife. Szass Tam, the death master, thinks we need a living man to lead us." The wraith floated to the floor, bringing its amorphous black face mere inches from the druid's chin. "We can suck the last breath from your weak, mortal lungs later, bestowing upon you a precious demise. You can live forever in death. But you must be well now."
"I'm not dying. I'm just tired." Galvin grimaced. "Remember when you were alive? You used to get tired, too. Or is that too far beyond your memories?"
The wraiths ignored Galvin's jibe and continued to pester him.
"We must go," the wraiths began to chant, repeating the phrase until their voices sounded like a swarm of insects.
The one nearest Galvin rose several feet into the air. "The sun will rise soon, and then we must flee to the embrace of darkness. We must pursue the gnolls-now."
"We wouldn't get far before the sun rises," Galvin said evenly. "Listen to me. I've found out something, something most perplexing. I'm not certain that Maligor is with the gnoll army. I think he is with another army, one with numbers and power to truly concern Szass Tam.
"This is an army of malevolent, flying beasts, all under Maligor's control. There are hundreds, perhaps thousands of the things. Maligor calls them darkenbeasts. This army flew out of the tower shortly after the gnolls left, when this place