Return of the Sorceress
“The voice was muffled, distant, as if the speaker had a mouth full of cotton.
“Be silent,” Maddoc mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter. “Or I’ll turn you into … I don’t know what. Something nasty.” He put his pillow over his head and tried to return to sleep. He was so weary. But then he always was these days. Not for the first time he wondered if power truly was worth the price that it demanded from those who sought it, and as always, he decided that it was.
“I apologize for disturbing you, but you must wake up!”
Maddoc recognized the voice then. It was Oddvar. The normally calm, composed dwarf sounded almost panic-stricken.
Maddoc pushed the pillow off his head and sat up. He scooted to the edge of the bed, threw aside the bed curtains, and saw the dim outline of Oddvar in the gloom of his bedchamber. The Theiwar never used a candle or a lantern if he could avoid it.
“What is it?” Maddoc demanded. “Is something wrong with Nearra?” Excitement surged through him.
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