The Quest
Sitting there in the snow, wet and half-frozen, Irenya wanted to dismiss Brianne’s words with a shrug of shoulders on her way home. Only the distance between a snowdrift and the darkened mirror remained, but every step would further expose the wound of this new, raw knowledge.
Elaaron, sorcerer-Gifted.
A new image of him arose, sketched in black and fogged with doubt. Not a moment of her six months in Dar Orien could she trust for its integrity. The air she breathed was alien and full of deceit. For her colossal ignorance she blamed herself. She had ignored the signs, the utterances, closed her eyes to the wider truth, even when faced with her own apparent ability. Her blindness galled her.
Alara plucked at Brianne, who sat propped against the crude pile of snow, her head on
