Curse of the Shadowmage - Mark Anthony [31]
"You have kept your body well." Serafi's voice burned in his brain like poison. "You are older than I would like, yet you are strong, and handsome of face. I think that, with a body such as yours, I could seek out and enjoy all the sensations I desire…"
At last, Morhion managed to wrest himself from the ghostly embrace, lurching from the chair. Gasping for breath, he spun around to stare at the spectral knight. "I don't understand," he choked. But even as he spoke the words, he knew he was lying-that he did understand and had already made his choice.
Serafi's sinister voice echoed all around him. "I would live again, Morhion. And I require your body to do so. I will give to you the knowledge you need to save Caledan. I will grant you the time you need to pursue him and his metamorphosis. But, when the quest is over, my payment will be due." The spirit's eyes burned into Morhion. "And your body will become mine."
"What… what then will become of my spirit?" Morhion managed to gasp.
Serafi waved a translucent hand, as if this were a matter of no importance. "You will be dead, Morhion. Nothing more, nothing less. Simply dead." Drifting through the chair, the spectral knight approached. "Tell me your answer, mage. Do you accept my bargain?"
Terror clenched Morhion's heart. He could not do this. Even he, who had sacrificed so much in his life for what he believed was the larger good. Or could he? Once before, he had destroyed his friendship with Caledan in order to save Caledan's life. Now that friendship had grown anew, stronger than ever. Once again, was there anything he would not do for Caledan's sake? All at once, the terror melted from Morhion's chest. A strange peace descended on him. As if in a dream, he heard himself speak the words.
"I accept."
Six
The sending from Master Harper Belhuar Thantarth came to Mari in the shadowless hour before dawn.
She had not slept. Kellen lay curled inside a patchwork quilt before the common room's fieldstone hearth, sleeping the untroubled sleep of a child. Mari sighed, longing for such innocence. However, she was no child.
A crackling sound shattered the still air. Mari jerked her head up, gripping the arms of her chair with white-knuckled hands. A shining azure sphere hovered in midair before her. White-hot tendrils snaked around the sphere, sizzling and popping brightly. The acrid stench of lightning filled her lungs. Abruptly an image appeared in the center of the glowing orb-the face of a man. His eyes were kind, but his graying beard and hard expression lent a sternness to his visage. Mari took in a sharp breath.
"Master Thantarth!" she exclaimed.
She was shocked anew when the image in the sphere spoke to her in return.
"Greetings, Mari Al'maren."
Mari's mind raced. She had heard rumors that, among the Harpers, there were one or two mages capable of sending messages over vast distances. However, the power required for a feat like this was immeasurable. Messages were relayed in this manner in only the direst of circumstances. Slowly, Mari rose from the chair, her muscles stiff from sitting all night.
"How may I serve the Harpers, Master Thantarth?" Her tone was formal. She had spoken face-to-face with Belhuar Thantarth only once before, when she had first joined the Harpers. He was the Master of Twilight Hall, the western stronghold of the Harpers, located in the city of Berdusk. His duties kept him too preoccupied with great affairs to deal directly with all the Harpers under him. Orders from Thantarth were usually relayed by the high-ranking Harpers who served as his assistants. Thantarth was reputed to be a stern but benevolent man who was not afraid to anger others in pursuit of what he believed was right.
"I have a new task for you, Al'maren," said the image of Thantarth in the glowing sphere.