Free Hederick The Theocrat by Ellen Dodge Severson Page B

Tarscenian, each mage's work appeared to be nothing but errant scribbling. The fog began
     to glow. The white robes gleamed like burnished silver. ”Bilum merit ayhannti,“ Calcidon
     sang in his elven tenor. ”Achet shiral pescumi. Relaquay,“ came the chanted reply of the
     group. The men's voices rumbled. The women's tones floated like feathers. Suddenly the
     forty robes glittered like diamonds. They scattered light until tears streamed from the
     mages' eyes. Ancilla had been adamant: the mages' eyes must remain open, whatever their
     inclination to close them against the brilliance. ”Ayhannti, shiral liwix xhalot.“
     Calcidon sang on. ”Polopeque.“ The shine that had transformed the robes now leaped out of
     the cloth as though it had life of its own. The glitter shone silver and white. Ice blue
     appeared in the swirling fog. The lines that the mages had traced formed into figuresa
     tree, a dragon, a lance, a crown. Then they muted to nothingness. The mist evaporated
     around the ring of mages and intensified above Ancilla's still form. The air filled with
     the clattering and chiming of bells. ”Shiral liwix trassdiv dhellil“ Calcidon shrieked the
     words. Yet the other mages could barely hear him over the noise from the twisting tendrils
     of fog. ”Reveese rou ripow nad borrah rou carpeh,“ the mages shouted in unison. ”Reveese
     rou ripow nad borrah rou carpeh!" The fog enveloped all the mages. The light from a
     thousand stars exploded within the circle. Wooden bells, silver chimes, steel cymbals
     could be heard. Some of the mages began to bleed from the ears. Others cried out with pain
     and made as if to clap their hands over their eyes. Then all disappeared. The fog vanished
     with them, revealing a late-afternoon mountaintop without tree or living beast. All was
     silent.
    At that moment, Ancilla shivered and awakened. Her green eyes stared blankly at Tarscenian
     for a moment. “I am alive?” she finally whispered. “They agreed to help us?” At
     Tarscenian's nod, the old woman accepted his hand and stood. She wobbled at first, then
     supported herself without aid. Ancilla waved away Tarscenian's arm.
    “By the Old Gods, Tarscenian, the power!” she whispered. “I have the might of two score
     mages inside of me.” Her companion waited while Ancilla composed herself. She closed her
     eyes, and her lips moved, but Tarscenian could not divine whether she spoke spell or
     prayer. After a few moments, Ancilla seemed to gain some control over the magical forces
     raging within her.
    “This is our last chance, Tarscenian,” Ancilla said resolutely, looking up at her longtime
     friend and companion. "We go now to Erolydonto challenge my brother.

Dragonlance - Villains 4 - Hederick The Theocrat
    Chapter 4
    Pounding and shouting at thc front door of their treetop mansion in Solace shook the Vakon
     family from their beds just after midnight. Jeffers, the manservant, was the first to the
     door, but Ceci Vakon, mistress of the home, followed a short distance behind. “Is the
     master home?” Jeffers whispered to Ceci. He clutched a small axe of the variety normally
     used to chop kindling.
    She shook her head. “Mendis isn't home yet. Perhaps something has happened to him.” A
     resonant voice boomed through the locked door. “Death to heretics!” Ceci recognized the
     booming bass voice as that of the high priest of the Seeker temple in Solace. “High Priest
     Dahos!” she whispered. “And Hederick's goblins. What are they doing here?” Jeffers's face
     was young, pale, and defiant. “I'm the only man in the house,” he said staunchly. “I will
     protect you.” “No. This must be a mistake,” Ceci replied. “The High Theocrat promised us
     protection. Open the door. I'll speak to them.” The young servant followed her orders but
     kept the small axe in view and stood stubbornly in the doorway next to his mistress.
     Clutching her