Read Norton, Andre - Chapbook 04 for Free Online Page A

With this firmly held in
his left hand, Modic clapped his right hand about
also.   Though it looked to be a shard of
dull gray, such as lay in the thousands along any trail, Modic was touching it to the map.
     
    It
was if he now held a coal, for there sprang up a steady red light in the
stone.   Modic's features twisted, his lips grimaced as if he did indeed carry a fire's heat
against flesh.   The fire was answered by
a spark on the map, one which glowed as steadily as the Seeker's stone. Modic gave a half-stifled oath, his eyes wide and brightly
open so that he would not lose a fraction of what he looked upon.
     
    With
the wane of the moon Modic stepped as forward boldly
as he would have had it been day.   For
the lack of anything on which to base a protest, Rentam followed after, leading the horse which plodded as if it had been sentenced to
too heavy a 'task.
     
    Lonscraft .   In Rentam's mind revolved the name of that ancient death of a city.   So far the tale he himself had repeated had
been exact..   . yet never had it told
what manner of death was spewed forth by the marshes, or why it had not fallen
upon those of Betweener blood, just those of Modic's species.
     
    Still,
in the many years since that time, perhaps too many to be told over without a
knot string to aid, those who ventured into the Great Dry had died... one way
or another.   None had told what they had chanced
upon which was so perilous an enemy.
     
    Lonscraft itself was the name which had been gasped by one of the earlier venturers as he died, tongue stricken save for that
word.
     
    They
now angled well away from the open center about the dead pool where the others
had died.   The memory of the color which
arose to slay, or else hold the intruders here until something more subtle had come
seeking life and blood, haunted Rentam .   His hand beneath his cloak sought out that
piece of fire curling stone which he had found in the ruin.   Yes, there was a brilliant swatch of color to
match that which had flashed to kill on the rod or knife.
     
    With
each step he took, he glanced sharply about and then at the blade. The
star-dotted sky above the central buildings remained free of lighting or
change.   Though color still swirled
within the pointless blade, it did not even reflect on the hand which held
it.   Still there was a feeling..   . Rentam's head
jerked as if that sudden thought had been a blow.   Why did he come to imagine thus as he
followed Modic through these ruins?   Never before had he conceived of things which
were not of the earth he knew.
     
    Oh,
there had been tales a-plenty concerning demons and creatures from other worlds
(with hints that the meddling of some man or Betweener had opened forgotten gates), but always such had appeared or had happened to
some guide or wanderer from another clan.   One far away enough for the report to become muddled and overlaid with
all the fears which were a part of their heritage.
     
    He
knew well that the men of the lower lands by the rivers had similar ghosts.   Nor were there many who even dared to make a
short essay into the Dry with or without a guide.   Still there was about Modic now a kind of fever which darkened his skin even under the moon's glow, and made
his journey one of erratic pauses and swifter advances, as if two desires warred
violently within him, now this and now that taking command.
     
    It
was the horse who broke through the Seeker's tight absorption.
     
    Not
uttering any sound, it drew back upon the rein, jerking its head as if to free
itself.   Bracing its spindly legs within
a narrow way between two piles of rubble, it refused to advance.
     
    Modic at once appeared fully awakened from his obsession.   He stood dragging with all his force at the
reins... the horse's head now stretched forward at a painful angle.   It was the animal that struck first.   It kicked out, though it was not facing Modic , and Rentam , who had had
no part in its pull