Confrontations (Affinities)
She hurried from the keep into the
forecourt. There she turned and stared at the gray stones of the tower. Sadness
blossomed. The keep was home and family. She brushed her hand over the rough
stones. With a sigh she sank on a bench and leaned against the wall. Warmth and
comfort seeped from the surface.
Ash opened herself to the winds of thought.
Without warning, a stab from the highlands touched her. Like the sting of a
scorpon’s tail someone tried to jab into her mind. Help! She slammed her
barriers tight. Who? Not Dom Senet. His touch felt oily and tempting. This had
been crude and demanding.
Mikel and Kirlon slid onto the bench on
either side of her. Sydli crouched before her. Their arrival brought comfort to
ease the chill of fear.
“What was that?” Sydli asked.
Ash released a held breath. “Not the Dom.
Rougher. Greedier.”
“What were you trying to do?” Mikel asked.
“Listening to the winds of Easren.”
“Good idea but we should form a circle,”
Kirlon said. “I’ll block against intrusion.”
They clasped hands. Ash felt the merge
form. She reached for the winds of Easren. Cries of hunger, fear and despair
echoed through the meld. Rain fell two days out of four. Rivers and streams
overflowed their banks. Soon melt from ice and snow in the highlands would add
to the deluge.
When Ash broke the circle she met the gaze
of her friends. “The Doma was right. If we don’t go now there will be no spring
planting. Famine and death will follow.” She rose. “The time is now.”
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