The Shadowlands Read Online Free

long, and let it sing in the present.
    And I cannot do it, Lief thought, with a pang of sadness. I would not know how to begin. And even if I had the skill, it is not fitting that I should be the one.
    He looked up at Tirral. Saw the longing in her glistening eyes. Suddenly knew what should be done. He held out his hands, the glowing Pipe held loosely between them.
    ‘You are the Piper, Tirral,’ he said softly. ‘Will you play?’

    And so, for the first time since the world began, the pure notes of the Pirran Pipe rang out in the caverns of the secret sea, while the people of Keras listened, their rapt, upturned faces wet with tears.
    The music caressed the rippling waters, echoed from the gleaming rock, echoing, echoing until the air itself seemed to quiver with its beauty and no walls could contain it.
    It flowed into the Forbidden Way, where the leeches heard it, and cringed in the darkness. It sang in the opal sea, where the great eels raised their dripping heads from the water and swayed to the sound.
    The Aurons building on their island looked up from their work, transfixed, as the sound drifted to their ears. Their Piper’s ancient face did not change, but his body trembled all over, as if shaken by an icy gale. And Penn, packing manuscripts in her little hut on the rafts, claspedher hands in joy and wonder.
    The song of the Pipe echoed through the rainbow caverns where the mud grubs burrowed deep to escape it, and the sea moles leaped and played. It filled the Glimmer with its beauty and flowed on to the ruby sea, and Plume.
    Nols, tending the grave of the warrior Glock, gave a cry when she heard it. She scrambled to her feet and ran to the shore where awed, silent people were wading knee-deep, waist-deep, into the scarlet water, gazing towards the sound.
    The music floated on, faint and haunting, till it reached the furthest corner of the golden sea, where Clef and Azan, fishing in their tiny boat, dropped their nets and sat spellbound. Then the last, tiny shadow of sound rose high above their heads, through the topaz haze. And carried by the cool, soft breeze, it stole into the golden dragon’s enchanted sleep, bringing with it soaring dreams of sunshine, great winds and high mountains, magic and vanished glory.

4 – The Grey Zone
    T irral sat silently through the celebration that followed her playing of the Pipe. There was food, drink and laughter around the fire, but she joined in none of it. Only when the Kerons brought out their small pipes of fungus wood did she raise her head.
    The sweet, breathy music was worth listening to, indeed. And to the companions’ surprise, the sweetest tunes of all were played by Emlis.
    When they congratulated him, as he put down his instrument and came to sit beside his mother, Emlis bit his lip. ‘Playing has always brought me joy,’ he said. ‘But now I have heard the Pirran Pipe I know that the sounds I make are just a pale reflection of what music can be.’
    Awkwardly he wiped his pipe on his sleeve and held it out to Barda. ‘Perhaps you would play for us now?’ he asked. ‘I long to hear above-worlder music.’
    Barda laughed. ‘It is very like your own. But, I am sorry, I cannot play for you—and neither can mycompanions. None of us is musical.’
    ‘What?’
    Tirral’s high-pitched exclamation cut startlingly through the music and laughter. Silence fell.
    ‘Are you saying,’ cried Tirral, ‘that you cannot even
play
a pipe?’
    ‘We cannot play music as you do,’ Lief agreed, with sinking heart. ‘But it is the magic of the Pirran Pipe that counts, not the skill of the player. A single note will be enough to stay the Shadow Lord’s hand.’
    ‘You cannot know that!’ Tirral cried. ‘In ancient times the Pipe was only played by Pirra’s finest musicians!’
    Her face glowing with renewed hope, she appealed to the silent people around her. ‘Our beliefs do not require us to give or lend to a cousin if the cause is pointless, Kerons! Is that