Free War of Power (The Trouble with Magic Book 3) by B. J. Beach Page A

tomorrow?”
    “Not at all, I’m afraid. It should really have been done by now.”
    D’ta’s curiosity was obviously piqued. “What is it that’s contained in the crystal?”
    Karryl played his trump card. “Essence of Wraith.”
    There was a sound in his head like a muffled explosion. He grinned, and stood in contemplation of the cloth-covered crystal as he waited.
    D’ta’s voice entered his mind once again, her tones carefully measured. “Father says that if you will open your mind he will give you the formula of a spell. You will be able to remember it until your task is complete. Then it will be erased. We wish you well.”
    Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Karryl prepared to receive the spell. He didn’t have long to wait, and he recognised the entity’s voice immediately. Without any kind of preamble the deep baritone filled his head with the words of the long and complex spell. For a full five minutes Karryl’s retentive memory stored every harsh, guttural syllable, every inflection and nuance while his blood chilled in his veins. The spell was Vedric.
    The hollow sensation in his head told Karryl that the entity had withdrawn, and he sat quietly for a while, pondering the necessity for using a spell from the most hateful and reviled of the four disciplines. Having reached a satisfactory conclusion, he stood up and moved to stand near the pedestal which held the crystal. Holding the dark blue cloth between thumb and forefinger, he drew it smoothly away and let it fall to the floor. The crystal had darkened, the streaks and patches coalesced into a dingy blackness which lurked brooding in its lower half. His lip curling briefly in disgust, Karryl took two paces backwards and began to vocalise the spell, closely watching the dark crystal as he pronounced each abhorrent word. Gradually he moved away from the pedestal, his voice becoming louder, his tone more harsh as he drew away from the stone. Echoing and re-echoing, the final emphatic words filled the hall with a tremendous crescendo. Then all was still. In the sudden and oppressive silence, nothing moved. His heart thumping with trepidation Karryl approached the pedestal. The crystal appeared intact, untouched by the power of the spell.
    Without warning, a blinding incandescent light flared outwards and upwards from the crystal, sending the gathering darkness into full retreat. In the time it took Karryl to raise his arm to shield his eyes, the light had already faded, leaving only a tiny glowing nucleus. Taking a moment to let the after-image clear from his eyes, Karryl hurried forward. He reached the pedestal just as the miniscule glow finally winked out. As if made from clear glass, the stone glinted in the half-light, its purity unmarred by any alien colour or markings. What had once been a receptacle for evil was now a thing of beauty and perfection. Taking advantage of what little daylight remained, Karryl picked up the dark blue cloth from the floor and wrapped it around the crystal. With the object tucked carefully into the deep pocket of his robe, he stepped out of the hall. Through the gathering darkness of the winter evening, he cut across the palace grounds to Lady Evalin’s cottage, tucked away just a few yards down a little lane just outside the perimeter.
    * * *
    Karryl was hardly surprised when the footman who answered the door informed him that the Lady Evalin was expecting him, and showed him into a small but comfortable room with a log fire crackling in the grate.
    Karryl stood warming his hands at the cheery blaze until Evalin’s strong vibrant voice made him turn. “Master Karryl. ‘Tis indeed a pleasure to have you visit me.”
    Seating herself elegantly in a tastefully upholstered chair a little away from the fire, she gestured towards a similar one beside it. “Sit yourself down and we’ll exchange gossip. Mallen will be bringing tea shortly.”
    Karryl smiled and gave her a short but respectful bow. “Thank you Lady