Table Of ContentSpell of Apocalypse
Brenner, Mayer Alan
Published: 1994
Type(s): Novels,Fantasy
Source: http://www.mayerbrenner.com/
Also available on Feedbooks for
Brenner:
• Spell of Catastrophe (1989)
• Spell of Intrigue (1990)
• Spell of Fate (1992)
Copyright:
Please read the legal notice included in
this e-book and/or check the copyright
status in your country.
Veuillez lire les informations légales
inscrites dans ce livrel et/ou vous ren-
seigner si le livre est encore sous copy-
right dans votre pays.
Contents
ElectronicLicense . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4
ChapterI 5
ChapterII 30
ChapterIII 65
ChapterIV 107
ChapterV 132
ChapterVI 164
ChapterVII 177
ChapterVIII 200
ChapterIX 225
ChapterX 265
ChapterXI 285
ChapterXII 309
3
ChapterXIII 329
ChapterXIV 367
ChapterXV 412
ChapterXVI 481
ChapterXVII 504
ChapterXVIII 528
ChapterXIX 604
ChapterXX 651
ChapterXXI 698
ChapterXXII 769
ChapterXXIII 788
Epilogue . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 817
Electronic License
(cid:13)c 1993-2007 by Mayer Alan Brenner.
First published by DAW Books, New
York, NY, May, 1994. Some rights re-
served. This work is licensed under
the Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-No Derivs 3.0 License.
To view a copy of this license, visit
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-
nc-nd/3.0 or write to Creative Com-
mons, 171 Second Street, Suite 300,
SanFrancisco, California, 94105, U.S.A.
1
Chapter
FROM THE GROUND, the bird
was an infinitesimal white speck lost
against the isoluminescent glare of the
midday sky. From the perspective of
the seagull, however, the ground and
its features were clearly apparent in
all their multiplicity and confusion. Be-
low it now as it circled in its leisurely
bank was the sparkling band of the
Tongue Water, to its right the smoky
bulk of the manufacturing district and
beyond that the widening mainland, to
its left the great city of Peridol.
There was more than just scenery
transpiring down there under the
bird’s dangling feet, though. The seag-
ull’s unhurried path was carrying it
around a wide coil of dark smoke that
mounted even higher, curling and roil-
ing, until an onshore breeze took it
and shredded it into streamers and
ragged sheets. Following the pillar of
smoke downward took the eye into the
midsection of a tall bridge. The bridge
currently spanned the water less effec-
tively than it likely had even a short
time before. The center reach of the
roadbed was obscured by steam clouds
that were replacing the dark smoke
with a puffier white. Here and there,
where the steam parted, a few dying
flames could be noted, and in more
numerous other locations the surface
of the water itself was visible through
the bridge floor, rimmed by jagged
holes and the raw edges of ruptured
steel.
Wedged up against and partially un-
derneath the bridge on its upstream
surface, glinting and glittering, was
a prodigious cliff of ice. Even to the
seagull’s inexpert eye, it was clear that
the steam clouds had resulted from
the contact, in the not-too-distant past,
of the shorn-off crown of the iceberg
with the incendiary fires. Since the
center section of the bridge was ex-
hibiting - in addition to the roadbed
damage - a prominent sag and list, of
dire structural import, it was also ap-
parent that the supporting influence
of the iceberg’s bulk was keeping the
larger part of the bridge from collaps-
ing full-on into the water. A slender
crag of ice that had not been clipped on
contact with the bridge still towered
over the upstream mass of the iceberg
and loomed at a perilous angle over the
bridge itself. Curiously, the uppermost
section of this ice needle seemed to
bear within it the crushed remains of
what might have been a modest fishing
boat.
Spectacular though these sights
were, the seagull’s interest was not
primarily architectural. Crowds of peo-
ple were apparent on every side; on the
bridge itself, on the river-bank grand-
stands, even a few remaining bobbers
in the water or on small boats being fer-
ried to the shore. Flocks of other birds
wheeled about as well, those of sea
and land keeping largely separate but
all diving periodically to snare some
useful morsel from the water or the
crush on land. With a glance back over
its shoulder the seagull verified it was
being trailed at a respectful distance
by a congregation of other gulls, pant-
ing and bedraggled from some recent
exertion though they appeared.
A few large sea-creatures were still
visible too, as looming shadows be-
neath the surface or as splashing
wakes of foam. Confused by the abrupt
end to the Running of the Squids but
still attracted by the lures, a school of
leaping marlin were trying to thread
the tight gauntlet beneath the bridge
and break through to the open ocean
downstream. A lingering leviathan,
wisely deciding against pitting itself
against the bridge, was beating its way
back upstream against the current.
The gull stood on a wingtip and spi-
raled down toward the bridge and the
Peridol shore. From the swirls of sol-
diers, rescuers, gawkers, and hangers-
on an occasional character stood out.
