Mind of the Magic (Arhel Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

shoulders. It wrenched at her heart and knotted her stomach. This was Nokar’s friend she had just turned down—Nokar’s friend, who had nearly died traveling to bring news he thought Nokar needed to hear, who had already been devastated… somewhat devastated, she amended… on discovering his beloved friend’s death.
    “I will be on my way, then,” the little man said. He picked up his little pack, and sighed.
    Faia’s mouth opened, and words poured out. “How would you get there?” she heard herself asking, even as her mind screamed,
Don’t volunteer
!
    Witte looked up at her—the expression he wore at that instant was the same one her dogs had worn when they thought she might be coming to give them something, but were afraid she wasn’t. “I’d transport us,” he said. “You are, perhaps, familiar with traveling by saje transport—the blink of an eye, a puff of smoke, and you stand where you wish to be?”
    Faia nodded slowly.
    “If you—having once been there—would only take an hour; if you could just picture the place and lead me there the first time, that would be all I’d ask of you. I promise it would be no inconvenience.”
    Faia stood in the old room, considering Witte’s offer. It was a good offer. Overland travel through the jungle had been deadly before, and by all accounts had become worse. Survivors staggering into Omwimmee Trade from the East Road told of giant trees that now lurked along the edge of the Wen Tribes Treaty Line and lumbered out when human prey moved within reach; the grasping, deadly trees devoured people and worked magic. Faia knew the travelers spoke of the Keyu, the Wen tree-gods. And the thought that the Keyu had come to control enough magic to pull their roots out of the ground and walk terrified her. Nor were the Keyu the only dangers of overland travel. Venomous flying snakes, the deadly six-legged kellinks that hunted in packs, poisonous plants that set traps and wrapped their tendrils around hapless victims drawn too near by the sweet scent of their flowers; all lurked in wait for even the wariest sojourner.
    Air travel in the Arissonese airboxes offered other but equally deadly threats. The magic that kept them airborne in the civilized lands vanished in the airspaces over the jungle—so that passengers on a seemingly safe flight found themselves dragged into the villages of the bloodthirsty Wen, the north’s reclusive human inhabitants.
    But to simply transport—that would eliminate all risk. Faia had returned from the First Folk city via the saje transport magic, blinking out of existence in one location and into existence in less than an instant.
    She would have the chance to see her friends again, friends who were diligently studying the ruins and who had been out of touch for months. She would be able to let Kirtha visit with her father, Kirgen. She would get a chance to visit with her mentor, Medwind Song.
    And she would get out of the house for a bit. She smiled at that last thought. Omwimmee Trade was becoming too confining for her. She yearned for distant places and new faces, for adventure—even if it was only adventure of a very small and not particularly noteworthy sort. Travel by saje transport would remove all the danger from the trip, but still end her up in an interesting location.
    She smiled slowly. “I’ll take you.”
    “Wondrous! Wondrous! Ah, how can I repay you, dear lady? How at all?” He bounded back into the garden, his face almost glowing with happiness. “Come, then, and—”
    “Not now,” Faia said. “Not today. When I go, I’ll have to stay and visit with friends. I have to pack, and to get gifts ready, and find someone to watch my house for me while I’m gone—I’ll have to prepare supplies for an extended stay, and check my gear again…” Her smile grew broader. It would be good to be back in the mountains again, to smell the cold, crisp air and feel the tingle of excitement that seemed to be a very part of