Extinction - Lisa Smedman [93]
Quenthel listened, nodding.
"Did any of the wraiths follow him through the portal?" she asked.
"No. According to the rogue, it would admit only living creatures."
Quenthel thought a moment then asked, "Did he see anything that might have been the ship of chaos?"
Valas shook his head and replied, "Nothing that he mentioned to me. But the Lake of Shadows is wide-as large across as Lake Thoroot-and deep. If the ship sank, there'd be nothing to see."
"This rogue told you there were 'dozens' of wraiths?" she asked.
Valas nodded and said, "Those were his very words."
"An exaggeration, no doubt. What race was he?"
Valas frowned.
"The rogue?" he asked. "He claimed to be human, even though he was no taller than a duergar."
"Humans," Quenthel snorted. "A cowardly race. There were probably less than half a dozen wraiths, all told. With Pharaun's spells-and our magical weapons-we'll easily be able to fight our way through."
Valas opened his mouth-perhaps to protest that even half a dozen wraiths were too many-but he closed it a moment later.
Quenthel, meanwhile, took mental stock of the resources she had at hand. Valas, whose speed and stealth would allow him to get behind the wraiths and dispatch them with his magical daggers. Pharaun, with his arsenal of powerful protective spells. Jeggred, who would protect Quenthel at any cost, hurling himself headlong at the wraiths, if the need arose. And Danifae…
Quenthel paused, considering. What good was the battle-captive, really? Oh, she groveled sweetly when threatened and gave pleasure readily enough, but Quenthel sometimes noticed a look in Danifae's eyes that she didn't like. Not at all.
Still, Danifae was a competent enough fighter, when she had to be. The morningstar she carried was no mere boy's weapon. If it came to it, Danifae could be abandoned to the wraiths, if the need arose to sacrifice someone. Truth be told, Quenthel would rather be rid of Pharaun-though she had to admit that his expertise with demons was going to come in handy, once the ship of chaos was finally located.
No, she'd have to make sure that Pharaun survived the encounter with the wraiths. Which meant making sure that if Danifae's life was threatened, the mage didn't try to defend her.
"We'll get by the wraiths," Quenthel told the others. "We'll reach the portal." Then, silently, so only the serpents could hear, she added, Or at the very least, some of us will.
Chapter Twenty-four
Gromph strode through one of the main corridors of Sorcere, followed closely by Kyorli, who scurried along behind him, and Prath, staggering under a load of spellbooks that Gromph had hastily assembled. Since the duergar had been driven back from Tier Breche, and the tunnel sealed, most of the students were heeding the call of their respective Houses. Apprentice mages ran this way and that down the corridor, arms laden with spellbooks and magical devices, bleating like a milling herd of rothe as walking chests scuttled along on spider legs behind them.
As he hurried along, Gromph held a circle of copper wire close to his lips.
"Wizards of House Baenre," he called, speaking through the enchanted wire. "Attend me at once in the scrying chamber."
The wire hummed, sending a tingle through Gromph's fingertips. Then it glowed a dull red and crumbled. Flicking flakes of copper from his fingers, Gromph pushed open the heavy double doors of the scrying chamber and stepped inside.
Like the rest of Sorcere, the walls of the large, circular chamber were