Revelation (Rai Kirah) Read Online Free Page A

true anger. “You have no business touching the knife. You overstep yourself, Fiona.” The enchantments on the Warden’s knife were very precise and not completely understood. We had learned how to duplicate them through the years, but we did not know what might affect their peculiar magic. The knife was the only weapon a Warden could take beyond the Aife’s portal. Every other would disintegrate in your hand. We dared not tamper with it.
    “But you had—”
    “It was perfectly clean. If you touch it again, I will insist on your replacement.”
    Though she set her jaw defiantly, she knew she had gone too far, for she didn’t take time to list the other hundred things she had planned to accuse me of.
    “We’d best make ready,” I said. “I’ll need an hour and a half, as usual.” I had a feeling that a hundred hours weren’t going to put me in the proper state of calm readiness I needed. I left her there, holding her robe and glaring after me in the waning light.
    As always, I worked for an hour at the kyanar, the martial exercises that helped center my thoughts and prepare my body for the coming confrontation. On that night, for the first time in my career as a Warden of Ezzaria, I thought that the combat beyond the portal might be a relief.
    By the time Fiona came for me, robed in plain, shapeless white as ritual specified, I had washed myself, drunk most of the clean water in the pitcher, donned the clothes, the Warden’s cloak, and the weapons, and used Ioreth’s Chant to put myself into a state halfway between the world we walked and the one the Aife would create for me. The rite was immensely calming, and despite my distress, I felt quite capable of the focus necessary to do my job. Fiona led me to the temple fire, and when I nodded that I was ready, she took my hands and worked her awesome magic.
    To anyone who watched, it would seem that I had vanished from the temple, yet I could see it behind me, a pale outline against the bright stars of the Ezzarian night. Before me was another place . . . of rocks, earth, water, and air to breathe . . . and a rai-kirah waiting—a demon, who might appear in any of a million different shapes.
    When I stepped through the misty gray rectangle that was Fiona’s portal there were no whispered words of comfort or well-wishing. And once I was through and the house-sized man-thing with four arms and daggerlike fangs dropped instantly on my back, I had no time to think of Ysanne or Fiona or anything else. I could not see the landscape, could not assess the possibilities for disposing of the leather-hided creature, could not do anything but keep my vital parts away from the fangs and keep moving fast enough that it could not grab me with its multiple limbs. I had only enough breath to get out half the words of the warning I was required to give. “I am the Warden, sent by . . . Aife . . . the scourge . . . demons . . . challenge you . . . this vessel. Hyssad! Begone. Not yours.” It did not deign to answer me, only devoted itself more devoutly to removing my head.
    Twist the upper left arm. It’s already damaged. Tearing the ligaments will leave it useless. Transform the knife into a short sword . . . long enough to keep the fangs at bay while you wrap your legs around . . . No. No thinking. Just do it.
    And so I fought. Untold hours. Whenever I would gain the advantage, it pulled away and I had to give chase, losing it in a murky wasteland until it pounced again. The place was dreadfully cold. I hated the hot places, but the cold ones were more dangerous. Cramps and stiffening muscles that could tear easily. Numbness, so you felt the touch of claw or steel too late. Sluggish senses. I was slathered in green blood that ate into my skin like cold fire, and the wound in my shoulder was bleeding again. Then my eyes began playing tricks on me.
    As I plunged my blade into a gaping orifice that was spewing venom, I caught the glint of metal. Steel bands appeared about my