Rosemary Edghill - Bedlam's Bard 04 - Spirits White As Lightning # Mercedes Lackey.txt

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Spirits White as Lightning
Table of Contents
ONE:
THE SIMPLE GIFTS

TWO:
THE TREES THEY DO GROW HIGH

THREE:
A DARK HORN BLOWING

FOUR:
THE GLASS CASTLE

FIVE:
THROUGH DARKEST ELFLAND
WITH GUN AND CAMERA

SIX:
TO RIDE THE NIGHT--MARE

SEVEN:
WHEN THE GOING GETS TOUGH,
THE TOUGH GO SHOPPING

EIGHT:
IT'S A SATURDAY NIGHT
AT THE WORLD

NINE:
PUT YOUR HAND INSIDE
THE PUPPETHEAD

TEN:
(I'LL STOP THE WORLD AND)
MELT WITH YOU

ELEVEN:
YOU WANT TO DRESS IN BLACK

TWELVE:
CELTIC HOTEL

THIRTEEN:
YESTERDAY UPON THE STAIR
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FOURTEEN:
TOGETHER WE

FIFTEEN:
THE EAGLE AND THE HAWK

SIXTEEN:
WELCOME TO MY NIGHTMARE

SEVENTEEN:
THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN

EIGHTEEN:
JOURNEY'S END




Spirits White as Lightning
by Mercedes Lackey and
Rosemary Edghill
 This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any
resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

Copyright ? 2001 by Mercedes Lackey & Rosemary Edghill

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

A Baen Books Original

Baen Publishing Enterprises
P.O. Box 1403
Riverdale, NY 10471
www.baen.com

ISBN: 0-671-31853-5

Cover art by Stephen Hickman

First printing, December 2001

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Lackey, Mercedes.

Spirits white as lightning / by Mercedes Lackey & Rosemary Edghill.
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p. cm.
ISBN 0-671-31853-5
1. New York (N.Y.)--Fiction. 2. Musicians--Fiction. 3. Wizards--Fiction. I. Edghill, Rosemary. II.
Title.

PS3562.A246 S65 2002
813'.54--dc21 2001043349

Distributed by Simon & Schuster
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020

Production by Windhaven Press, Auburn, NH
Printed in the United States of America

DEDICATION
This one's for Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Anderson,
my high school English teachers,
without whom I wouldn't be doing this for a living.

--Rosemary Edghill

BOOKS IN THIS UNIVERSE
 BY MERCEDES LACKEY & HER FRIENDS
                                          Bedlam's Bard Series

                                               Bedlam Boys
                                                Ellen Guon

                                      Knight of Ghosts & Shadows
                                     Mercedes Lackey & Ellen Guon

                                        Summoned to Tourney
                                     Mercedes Lackey & Ellen Guon

                                         Beyond World's End
                                  Mercedes Lackey & Rosemary Edghill

                                      Spirits White as Lightning
                                  Mercedes Lackey & Rosemary Edghill

                                        SERRAted Edge Series

                                             Born to Run
                                    Mercedes Lackey & Larry Dixon

                                              Chrome Circle
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                                    Mercedes Lackey & Larry Dixon

                                           Wheels of Fire
                                  Mercedes Lackey & Mark Shepherd

                                       When the Bough Breaks
                                    Mercedes Lackey & Holly Lisle
                                       Stone Souls(forthcoming)
                                   Mercedes Lackey & Esther Freisner

                                          Diana Tregarde Series

                                               Jinx High
                                            Mercedes Lackey

                                             Burning Water
                                            Mercedes Lackey

                                           Children of the Night
                                            Mercedes Lackey



ONE:
THE SIMPLE GIFTS
The Spirits White as Lightning
Would on my travels guide me

The stars would shake and the moon would quake
Whenever they espied me

--Tom O' Bedlam (traditional)



 Sir Eric Banyon, the Queen's Knight, known as Silverflute wherever soldiers of fortune gathered
together, strode manfully through the thronging crowd, determined to leave the memory of his
disgrace at the hands of the foul Frenchman Black Levoisier behind him as surely as he had left
the dastardly minions of his Great Enemy in his dust. . . .

 Eric dodged around a bicycle messenger just dismounting on the sidewalk, then grinned, startling the
bike messenger into an answering smile.Heh. Banyon, m'lad, you ought to go in for writing Hysterical
Historicals in your off-hours. He actuallywas striding--though not exactly "manfully"--through the
noontime crowd, heading for the subway and home. His classes at Juilliard were over for the day and no
rehearsals (for once!) were scheduled for this afternoon. He could practice as well, or better, at home
than in one of the practice rooms, anyway. And hewas determined not to sour a perfectly good day with
the memory of one jealous teacher trying to make a fool out of him in front of the entire class. Well, all
right--maybe not the entire class. Just most of it. And anyway, Levoisier hadn't succeeded, though he'd
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certainly done his best.

 Missing his midterm last winter (he'd been off saving the world, necessary though it had been) had given
Professor Rector the chance he had been hoping for all term. He'd failed Eric, banishing him from
Introduction to Music Theory with unprofessional glee. Fortunately, Eric's work in his other classes and
in ensemble had been good enough that he had been given the opportunity to make up the lost Music
Theory credit during summer term, and he had taken the chance to add a few more courses in order to
lighten next fall's course-load. Still, this hadn't quite been the way he'd envisioned spending his July and
August, which was out on Fire Island with a pitcher of virgin margaritas by his side. And Levoisier made
Ethan Rector look like a prince of transpersonal fairness by comparison.

 Parisians. Feh. Paris would be such a lovely place without all the Parisians in it,Eric thought
grumpily. And the man had certainly been on form today, baiting Eric unmercifully in hopes he'd lose his
temper. Once he'd lost it, the professor would have taken him apart in a cool and scientific dissection
rendered without benefit of anesthetic.

 Levoisier had begun with sarcastic comments about Eric's depth of experience--on the RenFaire circuit.
(Why did they always obsess about that? It couldn't be jealousy.)Not exactly a concert-hall environment,
as the professor had repeatedly pointed out. Nor were the customers who so praised his playing
sober . . . or necessarily bright . . . or able to distinguish Bach from Bacharach . . . or a flute from a
clarinet. Certainly even an idiot with three tunes in his repertoire could win acclaim on the RenFaire
circuit--which only proved, to Eric's mind, how little Levoisier knew about the RenFaire circuit.

 As the professor had expounded on each and every way in which he felt that Eric resembled half-drunk
Fairegoers--at exhaustive length--Eric stood there silently. Every single word was calculated to get Eric
to explode with temper.

And that would have worked, once, but Eric was a far different person now than anyone that the
professor had ever encountered before, at least within the hallowed halls of academe. He had waited,
quietly and calmly, until the professor grew frustrated by Eric's lack of agitation, embarrassment, or any
other identifiable emotion.

When Levoisier finally ran out of insults, Eric had simply said, "The Review Committee and the Entrance
Committee were satisfied with my performances, Professor, as are the rest of my teachers," and sat
down again. And at that blessed moment, the change-of-class bell sounded, and he was free.

 Not as satisfying, perhaps, as telling the professor off would have been. Notnearly as satisfying as
pointing out the professor's own deficiencies as both a musician and a teacher--many of which Eric had
already heard for himself during faculty recitals. Yehudi Menuhin, the professor was not.

Yahoo Menudo, maybe.

 But the point wasn't to get the better of the arrogant Frenchman. The point, in fact, was not to even
bother with making a point. The point was to take what was good, leave what was bad, and pass
through all the name-calling and innuendo like the wind through the grass.

 Be Teflon. That's the only way to handle guys like this. He's insecure, ignorant, and arrogant. Just let
everything slide right off until he gets tired of not getting a rise out of me. By then he'll probably have gone
far enough to expose himself as the trivial goon that he is. That might take the full eight-week summer
session, but Eric didn't mind--while Levoisier was heckling him, he wasn't picking on the younger and
more inexperienced students, who were not equipped to deal with him. The bastard had already reduced
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Midori to silent tears before he'd turned on Eric.

 Well, let him wear himself out on me. Levoisier doesn't know half o...
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