Mickey Zucker Reichert - Shadows Realm Read Online Free

the darker, healthier hue of Southerners, but the beauty of this woman held him spellbound.
    The elf hooked an arm around the woman’s back with casual affection. Bolverkr’s hatred rose again, this time with a knifelike, jealous edge. He forced it away. Beyond the conscious portion of his mind, a plan was taking form, a means to cause these enemies the same torment they had inflicted upon him. Though not yet certain of the reason, Bolverkr knew this woman must die. And, with dispassionate efficiency, he rejected his own desire. Only then did he notice the staff she held in a carelessly loose grip. A meticulous artisan had gravel-sanded it smooth as timeworn driftwood. Darkly-stained, it tapered to a wooden replica of a four-toed dragon’s claw. A sapphire gleamed between black nails.
    Dragonrank. Bolverkr leaned closer until his nose nearly touched his magics. His image reproduced reality with flawless definition. There was no mistaking the gemstone for one of lesser value. Bolverkr had followed the founding of the Dragonrank school closely enough to know the clawstones symbolized rank, the more costly the gem, the more skilled the sorcerer. A sapphire placed this woman just below master. Power even distantly approaching hers was almost singularly rare, but it did not surprise Bolverkr. Behind any unnatural act of mass murder must stand a Dragonrank mage.
    Despite reckless squanderings of life energy, enough to have killed Bolverkr twice over without the added power of the Chaos-force, the edges of his aura scarcely felt dulled. He studied the woman more carefully. No longer fully absorbed by her beauty, he recognized the fierce glare of a vital, untapped life aura surrounding her. Nearby, a more sallow glow hugged the fourth member of this odd group. Though young and vibrant, her simple attractiveness paled beside her sapphire-rank companion. She stood shorter than any adult Bolverkr had ever seen, slighter even than her dark-haired consort. Her fine features swept into high, dimpled cheeks, and her mane of golden ringlets revealed a Northern heritage. She, too, held a dragonstaff, its ornament a garnet.
    Bolverkr hesitated, his next course of action uncertain. Without the advance glimpse the Chaos-force had provided, he could not have centered his location spell on strangers. Even so, he could only visualize a limited range around them. A village sign within the area of his spell might have pinpointed their locale, but it would have been an improbable stroke of luck. Mid-autumn snow suggested Scandinavia. However, endless miles of pine forest covered Norway, far too much for Bolverkr to explore. And I don’t even know their names.
    For several seconds, Bolverkr wrestled with his quandary, the sustained sorcery draining Chaos energy like the endless trickle of water down a gutter spout. His gaze strayed to the wreckage of Wilsberg, and the sight of corpses piled where his own wards had trapped them against the hillock stirred guilt that raged to anger. He knew where to obtain the information he needed. Somehow, I must enter one of their minds. He pondered the idea, aware this plan must fail, but goaded by frustration. He knew that nature endowed every man of Midgard’s era with mind barriers to protect them from sorcerers’ intrusions. Only the minority of humans had enough cognizance of their own barricades to lower them for a dreamreader or mage to interpret nightmares or thought obsessions. But one of my enemies is not a man. Bolverkr explored this loophole with eager intent. I’ve never heard of any mage breaking into or destroying mind barriers, but I’ve more power now than anyone before me. Sorcery always works best against other users and conceptions of its art, and the creatures of Faery are products of Dragonrank magic.
    Bolverkr grinned with morbid glee. He could not fathom the effect his attempt might have upon the elf. He had no previous experience to consider. He suspected it might plunge his victim