Myrkron (Volume Two of The Chronicles of the Myrkron) Read Online Free

dizziness overcame him.  He closed his eyes as he gripped the table edge once again.  With his eyes closed, he saw again the old man standing before the golden doors, still laughing.
    " From the tongue that lies, words flow smoothly.  Narro verum ."
    Michael opened his eyes again to see that Mortow had not moved , but was looking at him as if he was trying to judge what he was up to.  Michael straightened and sighed.  "I guess it wouldn't hurt me to listen, since neither of us can use magic here."
    Michael heard his words as he spoke them , but in his mind he heard something slightly different.  " I guess it could hurt me to listen, since we can both use magic in here. "
    Mortow smiled at last.   "Aye, you have nothing to fear from me in this place."
    Again Michael heard the words with his ears , but the echo of them in his mind was different.  " Aye, you have everything to fear from me in this place ."
    Michael smiled slightly and moved to the chair he 'd occupied when Mortow first entered the room.  He stood behind it as Mortow moved around to the chair in which Mieka had been sitting.  Mortow sat down in the vacant chair and gestured for Michael to take the other one.
    Michael pulled the chair back as far from the table as he could a nd sat down.  "Well, I'm listening."
    Mortow clasped his hands before him on the table.  He looked Michael in the eye and began.  "Let us start at the beginning , shall we?  Some five years ago, I decided that it was time to try to change things in Thelona.  I had grown discontent with endless research into the distant past.  You see, I had been trying to determine if things had always been as they are now; wizards hiding away within the walls of Kantwell, occasionally venturing out to help settle one dispute or another; the races living separate from one another and only coming together to wage wars.  I felt that if someone could rise above it all and join the races under one rule, then we could have a more lasting peace."
    " And, naturally, you thought you should be that one," Michael’s voice was heavy with loathing.
    Mortow frowned slightly.   "Not at first.  I took my ideas to my father initially.  I knew that I was more feared than liked.  My mere physical appearance intimidates others, even were I not wearing these robes, announcing to all that I am magi."
    To Michael’s surprise , the voice in his head remained silent.  There had been no contradicting statements.  "And who was your father?"  Michael asked, grudgingly curious.
    Mortow smiled then.  It was not the smug smile Michael expected, rather more of a smile of acceptance.  "I knew they wouldn't have told you.  Why complicate matters?  They have been honing you as a tool to do what he could not.  Don’t get me wrong, he came damn close. It's just not in his nature to kill his own son, even a son of whom he is ashamed.  Look at my face, Michael.  See my father in my features.  Can you not guess the answer to your own question?"  Mortow smiled a bright cheerful smile.
    His face transformed with that smile.  It seemed to erase all the hard edges and to warm the ice cold blue eyes .  Michael suddenly saw the resemblance, and his jaw fell open.
    Mortow’s smile faded, the hard predat ory look slid back into place.  "I see you now understand.  Headmaster Merric, Wizard of the Eighth Key, is my father."

Chapter Four
     
     
    Bran walked along the pass.  Lanterns had been lit an hour ago as the sun slid down behind the mountain.  He heard the mutterings of the men around him and could understand their astonishment.  He felt the same way.  For so long, the ogres had been their enemies; now one walked just at his back.  Mardak had asked to come along when Bran decided to check on Dain.  Bran granted his request.  Now they both walked among the men; some helping the wounded, some cooking, some repairing gear, most just sitting, staring at nothing.
    Bran knew the grief that gripped the hearts of