Read The Storm's Own Son (Book 1) for Free Online Page B

thoughts.
    "If gods were shapers of the world, " Katara said, "I think we have stories like that too, though few believe they still walk the earth today. Do you know more?"
    "Not much more. Only that if they did, they haven't for thousands of years ," he answered.
    Katara nodded thoughtfully, then looked out over the balcony as Talaos returned with the wine. He took up a spot between the women, with Sorya on his left and Katara on his right. He set his cup on the balcony rail.
    "What is that man doing?" Katara said, pointing to the center of the cleared circle.
    Talaos took a look . "That's Veratus, a magus. Probably the most famous and powerful in this part of the Republic."
    Down below, Veratus was preparing a circle of silver around the obelisk, in turn surrounded by little twinkling lanterns of different colors. He was an old man, clean shaven, with close-cropped white hair. He had a dark blue cloak worn clasped far over on one shoulder in a way not in common use for centuries, and carried a wand of white wood that gleamed with what looked like copper.
    "What is a magus?" asked Katara.
    "Someone who learns to work magic through study in books and scrolls," answered Talaos, turning to look at her. "They say it is dangerous, and takes many years to master."
    "Ah," she replied . "We have no one exactly like that in Vorhame, but there are Seithar who learn magic with runes and carvings, and who deal with the spirits. There are also a few people born with a little magic in their blood."
    Talaos thought about that . "I've seen and heard of people like that. I've never seen anything impressive, or that I was sure couldn't have been done with some sort of trick."
    "My father fought a warrior who se cuts would heal as you watched," replied Katara. "He was not a skilled warrior though, and did not heal when my father put an axe in his head."
    "He's starting," said Sorya, who'd kept her focus on the plaza below.
    Talaos and Katara turned.
    Veratus made complex motions with his left hand, while holding his staff  in his right. He swept his staff rightward around the silver circle. Light seemed to flow from the lamps in the circle, each a different color, and up and around his staff.
    Katara made a low , questioning sound like a hum or grunt. Talaos sipped his wine.
    The magus down below raised his staff high, and the colors of light radiated upward from it. He moved both of his hands in intricate ways, almost like a painter composing his work, and the colors overhead formed shapes. Rough at first, they coalesced into the forms of nine heroes in ancient armor of a kind seen today only on the obelisk itself. They stood tall, far over the head of the magus, in brilliant colors.
    Then another shape emerged, tall, black, shadowed, and ominous.
    "Looks like you," said Sorya to Talaos.
    In reply, he gave her a firm swat on the bottom. She made a little gasp, and pressed closer to him.
    The black shape solidified into a spectral, kingly warrior with a tall black crown of ebon spikes and a vast billowing cloak. Under the crown, its eyes flamed red. It towered over the heroes. The enemy raised a shadowy spear, twisting and flickering like a snake. Talaos wondered whether the actual enemy four millennia ago, if there was one, had been so obviously sinister.
    "Yes, definitely you," said Sorya, "though you keep your spear somewhere else..."
    With that, she reached a hand back to his crotch and tried to play. He casually, but firmly, grabbed her wrist, and put her hand back on the railing.
    "Time soon enough after the show," he whispered in her ear, giving it a nip for emphasis.
    The nine heroes shone with radiant gold and brilliant colors as they advanced fearlessly against the shadowed enemy. Then a spectacular battle of weapons and magic began. Katara pressed closer to Talaos, leaned over the railing like Sorya, and watched the fight with a kind of intense professional interest.
    The fighting went on for some time, with daring deeds and close