Chapter 6; Doorways
Robert Jordan’s The Shadow Rising
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“What did you do to your hand, by the way?”
"What did you do to your eye?"
"A little accident with a corkscrew and thirteen angry innkeepers. The hand?"
"Lost it capturing one of the Forsaken."
"Capturing?" Mat said. "You’re growing soft."
Rand snorted. “Tell me you’ve done better.”
"I killed a gholam," Mat said.
"I freed Illian from Sammael."
"I married the Empress of the Seanchan."
"Mat," Rand said, "are you really trying to get into a bragging contest with the Dragon Reborn?" He paused for a moment. "Besides, I cleansed saidin. I win.”
“By the way, I saved Moiraine. Chew on that as you try to decide which of the two of us is winning.”
― Robert Jordan, A Memory of Light
Here where extinguished lamps meant pitch dark at noon, some lamps were always left lit. The feeling was still vague, but it would not go away. Evil.
He stopped suddenly, in the wide archway leading to the brown-tiled entry chamber. One silver lamp at each end of the room gave a pale light. In the middle of the floor, a tall man stood with his head bowed over the woman wrapped in his black-cloaked arms, her head flung back and her white cowl fallen while he nuzzled at her throat. Chion’s eyes were nearly closed, and she wore an ecstatic smile. A flush of embarrassment slid across the surface of the void. Then the man raised his head.
Black eyes regarded Rand, too big in a pale, gaunt-cheeked face; a puckered, red-lipped mouth opened in a parody of a smile, showing sharp teeth. Chion crumpled to the floor as the cloak unfolded, spread into wide, batlike wings. The Draghkar stepped over her, white, white hands reaching for Rand, the long, slender fingers tipped with claws. Claws and teeth were not the danger, though. It was the Draghkar’s kiss that killed, and worse.
Robert Jordan’s “The Shadow Rising”
The 2013 JordanCon Program started print production today! You’ll find a familiar face on the cover (courtesy of Artist Guest of Honor Michael Whelan).
The cook and his helpers ignored Rand and Mat. Mat kept adjusting the scarf around his head, pushing it up, then blinking at the light and tugging it back down again. Rand wondered if he could see well enough to do anything more complicated than juggle three balls. As for himself….
The queasiness in his stomach grew thicker. He dropped on a low stool, holding his head in his hands. The kitchen felt cold. He shivered. Steam filled the air; stoves and ovens crackled with heat. His shivers became stronger, his teeth chattering. He wrapped his arms around himself, but it did no good. His bones felt as if they were freezing.
Dimly he was aware of Mat asking him something, shaking his shoulder, and of someone cursing and running out of the room. Then the innkeeper was there, with the cook frowning at his side, and Mat was arguing loudly with them both. He could not make out any of what they said; the words were a buzz in his ears, and he could not seem to think at all.
Suddenly Mat took his arm, pulling him to his feet. All of their things—saddlebags, blanketrolls, Thom’s bundled cloak and instrument cases—hung from Mat’s shoulders with his bow. The innkeeper was watching them, wiping his face anxiously. Weaving, more than half supported by Mat, Rand let his friend steer him toward the back door.
"The Eye of the World," from the Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan.