Gathering Storm (The Salvation of Tempestria Book 2) Gary Stringer (e reader TXT) 📖

blast was one of fire, setting delicate parts aflame. Creating a massive hole in the outside wall, she stepped clear of the building. Using stoneshaper and woodshaper in concert, she carved up the building like a roast dinner. A column of fire sprang up in the middle, and she sat down to watch the building burn. Since it was entirely separate from the main house, she didn’t have to worry about being careful, so she wasn’t. There was no finesse in her magic. She was just intent on smashing it up and burning it down.

When the flames died down, and the wood was reduced to ashes, she switched elements to ice – dry ice – cooling the stonework to the point where it became brittle. Calling on the power of air she found it quite barbaric fun to throw large spheres of superdense air at the walls, to smash them. Once satisfied, she caused a mini-earthquake to rip the foundations apart. She searched and sifted through the rubble, channelling her magic ever deeper until finally, she found it: the sealed access to a pocket dimension. Sealed, that is, until now. For as soon as she lay down in the dirt and reached towards it, it opened effortlessly at her touch. This pocket dimension wasn’t like the one in Calin’s library. It was tiny. As soon as she reached her hand inside, she felt a cold metal box, which she pulled clear. Sitting down, caring nothing for how filthy her robes were getting, she opened the box and inside was a booklet and note, which read:

Hi Cat,

If you’ve been doing your homework, then you will recognise the magical keys in this book as those relating to your staff, so I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. But here’s the punchline: These keys are not for your staff, they’re for something else. If you’ve solved the Mystery of Calin’s Tower, you will have worked out what they’re for. If you haven’t, then things have gone horribly wrong (again), and you need to go there immediately. Nothing’s more important.

Aye, ever yours,

Rose

~x~

p.s. I have no idea why the keys are the same.

“There’s always another mystery, isn’t there?” Cat murmured to herself. “Thanks, Rose. You’ve been a big help.”

Just then, a voice came out of the ether:

Red faction second attempt gone. One attempt remains.

Chapter 25

Catriona used her magic some more, allowing the ground to gape even broader and deeper so it could swallow the remains of the building and all of its contents deep under the ground, before filling in the hole and smoothing over the top layer. Walking over to some nearby plants, Cat used her love of nature to ask them to give up their seeds. They responded to her gentle druid magic and dropped their seeds into her hand. When she decided she had collected enough, she spent an hour painstakingly planting them by hand, before calling for gentle rain and sunshine to assist her in accelerating their growth. By the time she was finished, in the place where Daelen’s training centre once stood, there was now a beautiful meadow. Amid the lush, green grass, stood bright, colourful flowers, dozens of varieties of non-flowering plants and herbs. Butterflies fluttered, bees buzzed, and birds sang their joy of this wondrous new creation. There was just one thing missing, Cat decided, and taking off in her falcon form again, she flew away to find what she needed.

A few moments later, she returned with an acorn in her beak. She spotted Mandalee on the ground – she had come from her bedside vigil to see what her friend was up to. Sending out a sympathic greeting, the falcon circled over the meadow – scaring some of the smaller birds away – and landed in the centre. Without returning to her natural form, Cat gently planted the acorn in the earth and covered the hole. She even chose to use her druid powers, still in her bird form, flying up as a mighty oak tree grew tall and strong. The growth stopped, and the falcon perched on a branch. Mandalee did not disturb her, but simply sat down and waited, closing her eyes to better enjoy the smells and sounds of nature. After a while, she felt a touch on her shoulder and opened her eyes to see a small brown mouse perched there. Mandalee smiled and lifted the mouse gently onto her hand, where she stroked the little creature, which she knew to be her friend Catriona.

It was dark before Cat could bring herself to return to her half-Faery form, but when she did, she told her friend, “This isn’t just any old garden. It’s a recreation of my childhood home. It’s amazing how similar the wildlife is here, compared to Tempestria. At first, I couldn’t cope because this world was so alien, and yet now I’ve managed to create a small slice of the Faery lands of Quarthonia here on another world. This oak tree reminds me of the one back home, the one my parents were married under all those years ago. A girl could get quite homesick here. In a good way.”

Cat was understating her achievement, in Mandalee’s opinion. She’d been to Quarthonia herself and seen a view of which this, as far as the Cleric of Nature could tell, was an absolutely faithful recreation, down to the smallest detail. She would never cease to be amazed at what her friend could do when she put her mind to it. Mandalee was also quietly envious – though not in any negative way – of how Catriona’s powers could have such creative possibilities. Sometimes it seemed to Mandalee that everything she did was about killing. She didn’t regret her kills – those who died at her hands sought to take away the lives of innocent people who had not the power to protect themselves. She took lives to save lives, and she never lost sight of that.