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.Denied anydirection, the matrix chose the familiar.In the same manner as it hadtransformed Taen's memories of the shells and the wild-flowers and the solsticefires, the Sathid fixed on her object of concentration and created the illusion of itsaaTTnnssFFffooDDrrPPmmYYeeYYrrBB22.BBAAClick here to buyClick here to buywwmmwwoowwcc.AAYYBBYYBBr ropposite.Taen's opinion of the fish trapper's method of courtship was precisely defined, notrial for the Sathid to encompass.And the simplistic mind of the fish trapperprovided an easy opening.With full command of a dream-reader's skills, thematrix shaped its resistance and altered the fellow's perception.Standing chilled but hopeful amid the frost-browned stems of last season's herbgarden, the fish trapper experienced brief disorientation.The instant hismuddled senses cleared, he discovered a spray of seven red roses clutched in hiscallused hand.Shocked speechless by the sight of flowers in the dead of winter,he noticed the remainder of the Sathid's illusions more reluctantly.For nothingabout him was the same.The mildewed oilskins stood replaced by a cloak of brushed gray felt.His hip-high, fishy-smelling boots disappeared, transformed into soft calf leggings withsilver buttons and embroidered cuffs.And the wild red snarl of hair and whiskerswhich habitually buried the man's neck and most of his features appeared cleanand neatly trimmed, revealing an expression of bug-eyed astonishment.He swallowed twice and raised a trembling finger to touch one of the roses.Athorn scraped his knuckle.Convinced the illusion was madness, he shouted aloudin disbelief.The noise displeased the object of his passion.Above his head the shuttersbanged open and the tavern wench thrust her head out, her mouth opened forcarping complaint.With its ruse nearly ruined, the Sathid was forced tointervene.It included the woman in its dream spell and extravagantly added avelvet waistcoat to the fisherman's attire.And finding the suitor beneath her window was not the tiresome pest whobrought the reek of cod into her taproom each evening, the woman yelled withpredatory delight.Here stood a clean, strapping fellow who obviously had wealthby the look of his clothing; and roses in winter were a luxury no island doxiecould expect unless she were courted by royalty.This one never hesitated.Shesmiled, hiding her broken tooth with her tongue, and swooped over the sill to bekissed.The fish trapper's eyes went wide at the sight of what bounced withininches of his nose.And unable to contain her humor over the fish trapper'sridiculous predicament, Taen burst into peals of laughter.The Sathid recoiled in dismay.In the spectrum of human emotions, ridicule layfurthest from the cowering dejection of defeat.And having only Taen'supbringing within the harsh environment of Imrill Kand on which to drawconclusions, it understood very little of humor, except that its attempt to in-timidate had failed.Flustered, it abandoned the structure of its attack.Caught with her face half-smothered in the greasy beard of the fish trapper, thetavern wench emitted a muffled yell.She tried to yank back, but the fellow bynow had thrust a fist inside her blouse.Bleached linen tore with hardly a pretextof modesty.The woman yelled again, while her suitor stared crestfallen at abodice stuffed with woolen rags.The sight reduced Taen to a quivering paroxysm of mirth.In vain the Sathid triedto reestablish its hold; but the comical expression on the fish trapper's faceoverwhelmed the girl, and her hysterical laughter could not be controlled.Baffledby frustration the matrix withdrew, and above the capsule which sheltered Taen'saaTTnnssFFffooDDrrPPmmYYeeYYrrBB22.BBAAClick here to buyClick here to buywwmmwwoowwcc.AAYYBBYYBBr rbody, meter after meter quivered and dropped within the green sectors of thedials.The Vaere, standing by, recorded the fact.The girl had triumphed in herstruggle for supremacy.Her laughter gradually dwindled to manageableproportions.She had defeated the Sathid and claimed the full command of adream-reader's powers for her own.Taen barely paused to acknowledge the victory.The instant she discovered herwill was no longer contested, she collected her scattered thoughts.Though everynerve cried out for rest, she called her dream-reader's skills into focus.ForEmien's sake she drove outward once more, and sought the sorcerer Anskiere.Anskiere's GeasThe ice cliffs reared above Cliffhaven's northern headland, white against thedirtier gray of storm clouds.Beneath, voracious winter seas chiselled thespellbound ice into caverns.Spray struck with stinging fury more bitter than anyseasonal cold, and the air bit with the brittle edge of an Arctic night.Here, Taenreturned to seek the sorcerer Anskiere.This time she saw the wards, made visible through the expanded awareness of theSathid link.Shifting curtains of blue-violet light radiated like a corona from thecliff face.Taen traced their energies deep into the earth, layer upon interlockinglayer, in search of the Stormwarden's presence.Frost pervaded her senses,enfolded her innermost mind with the white desolation of a snowfall.But theenergies which had disoriented her before now parted cleanly.Although thepowers Taen had won from the matrix granted no influence over weather, An-skiere's works were Sathid-borne; seen through the lens of her new-foundmastery, their structure was comprehensible.And following a pattern intricate asthe laces woven by the elderly women on Imrill Kand, Taen unravelled the spelltoward its source.The whistles of the frostwargs echoed distantly, with overtonesas dreadful as she remembered.But Taen passed them by, untroubled by thecrippling fear of her former experience.Soon, at the vortex of the wards, sheconfronted the cone of silence and darkness which had formerly defeated all herskills.She paused there to renew her concentration.No cause which held Anskiereconfined would be slight.Already weary from her battle with the Sathid, shedared not tap the final ward with less than total caution.Here misjudgmentmight prove fatal; and a single slip could easily cause damage beyond any powerin Keithland to mend.Taen cast forth her dream-sense with a touch of utmostdelicacy, and spun awareness like a cocoon around the barrier to sound the mostcentral of Anskiere's defenses.The configuration she encountered proved to be strangely familiar.Through theexpanded perception of her dream-sense, Taen recognized the triple ring of forcewhich once shot blazing bands of light around the wings of the stormfalcon shehad released from the galleass Crow.But now Tamlin's schooling granted hermore complete understanding.The interlace of power shaped the defense wardsof a sorcerer's staff; a single touch would kill any being not attuned to theiraaTTnnssFFffooDDrrPPmmYYeeYYrrBB22.BBAAClick here to buyClick here to buywwmmwwoowwcc.AAYYBBYYBBr rresonance.But Taen sensed a flaw in the structure.Something about the ward's continuity seemed amiss.Its symmetry stood lessthan perfect, as if something sometime had struck its harmony slightly out ofbalance.Taen explored the anomaly with her dream-sense.The wards hadcertainly been disrupted, if only slightly.Resonance of tampering lingered still,and its nature made Taen spring taut with alarm.Someone with unfriendlyintentions had entered here before her.Their passage had left a gap in thedefenses
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