Bringer of Light Read Online Free Page A

console, muttering to himself. Suddenly he knelt up and stared at the screen. He used his free hand to follow some of the fastmoving patterns and began muttering louder. Then he scowled and looked away. He went back to concentrating on the mess of lights and filaments in the guts of the machine.
    Kerin sighed to herself. Though she had tried to explain why Damaru must learn his letters, he showed little interest in such dry study. He had examined the console before, spending several days at the task immediately after Sais left. Damaru had an instinctive love of technology, but he also understood the need to prevent the return of those who had originally put the console in the Tyr. Although there was but this one controlling machine in the whole land, it used the silver thread to speak to the many other devices far above. Hard though it was still to fathom this, Sais had assured them that some of these observed; some allowed communication between the land and the sky; and others were powerful weapons that the world’s former rulers had put in place in order to see off unwelcome visitors.
    Damaru’s initial investigations had been unfocused; in truth, he had most likely been indulging himself, playing, and exploring the device. Whereas now—
    Kerin started at the knock on the door, then called, ‘Is that you, Urien? Come in.’ Not that it could be anyone besides the Escori of Frythil. No one else would dare enter the ‘holy’ presence.
    Urien looked tired, the lines on his thin face etched deeper than ever. He wore his usual priestly robes, and Kerin wondered in passing how late – or early – it was.
    ‘Ah,’ he said, on seeing the console lit up. He strode over and Kerin moved to one side. He put his hands on the back of the seat and leant forward to read the text. When he turned to Kerin his expression was one of bitter amusement. ‘The main message says: “Rejoice, for your goddess will soon be reborn”. Hmm. Rejoice? I doubt that very much.’
    ‘At least they appear not to know of the changes that have occurred here.’ Kerin was impressed at how calm she sounded. Now she knew the Sidhe really were back, a cold ball of fear had settled deep inside her.
    ‘For which we should be thankful.’ To whom, Urien did not say – after all, their gods had proved false, not loving and divine ‘Skymothers’ but mortal oppressors. He continued, ‘We knew they would return. Sais told us this place is of great value to them.’
    ‘Aye,’ said Kerin shortly. The fear was tinged with nausea now as she thought about why the Sidhe cultivated and controlled her world. She shook off the thought. ‘Do you have any idea what the rest of the display means?’
    ‘It is mainly numbers, though there are a few words and odd phrases. It changes very fast, as you see, but I will try and make some sense of it . . . there are words and phrases that keep repeating. See, that one there: “authorisation confirmed”. And this . . . “orbital defence override”. ’
    ‘I think they are trying to turn off the weapons! The weapons in the sky – Sais said that when the Sidhe come they must – ah – send something – an override code – because otherwise the sky-weapons will destroy them.’
    ‘I think you may be right,’ said Urien grimly. Then his expression changed. ‘Wait! Look—’ He pointed to a new message, which was repeated three times. ‘Request denied,’ Urien read for her.
    ‘Does that mean the Sidhe’s attempt to override the weapons has failed?’
    ‘That is what it looks like to me. It appears we may yet see off those who would reclaim our world for themselves.’
    Kerin felt a fierce grin pull at her face. Her miraculous skytouched son was fighting the unseen battle for them, and he was winning. She wanted to throw her arms around him, though she knew better than to interrupt him when he was busy.
    The alarm, which Kerin had almost managed to forget, died in mid- peep .
    Urien was frowning at the screen.