Red Magic - Jean Rabe [27]
Then his mind reached out once more, touching the nearest darkenbeasts, then those farther away. Within moments, he controlled a dozen, then two, three dozen, and more. The nature of his sorcery enabled him to link telepathically to one, several, or all of his dark creatures, directing their actions and receiving uncompromising cooperation.
Maligor felt himself flying in many different directions at once. At first the sensation was glorious, but then it became disconcerting. He concentrated harder and drew the darkenbeasts' thoughts together, making them fly according to his will. The scene in the room altered. What a moment before had been chaos now was orchestrated movement. A ring of black circled the room, with the darkenbeasts flying in graceful patterns, performing a lurid ballet. Their cries rose as one, hideous and deafening, threatening to rise above the layers of stone and earth and warn those in the tower above of their presence.
Maligor, realizing the potential for problems, urged his force to land, then began to release their simple minds. Immediately the stench of the place overpowered him again and he retched, nearly doubling over. Gasping, he focused his attention on the large darkenbeast that had returned to the altar.
Soon, he telepathically communicated to the creature. We will fly again soon.
The Red Wizard staggered from the chamber and began the long ascent to his tower.
Four
In the clearing, Galvin waited for dawn to break and watched Wynter help Brenna pack her tent. The druid was disturbed at overhearing the sorceress's revelation that someone had been magically watching them-"scrying on them," she had called it. A Red Wizard possibly, Galvin thought. No… if someone had been spying on them, it was definitely a Red Wizard.
No matter, the druid decided. The mission would continue even if someone in Thay was aware of them.
A soft breeze blew across Galvin's face, refreshing him and causing him to get a good whiff of himself. Caked blood and sweat made him stink worse than a dirty, wet wolf. He was certain his companions would make a worse analogy, and he resolved to take care of his odoriferous condition-and get breakfast-while they finished packing. The sky was still dark and devoid of clouds, but it was tinged with gray and deep blue, indicating the sun would be up in less than an hour. He scanned the horizon for several minutes, fearing another transformed beast might be nearby, but he saw nothing.
He was certain a Red Wizard was behind the obscene creature that had attacked them; Galvin wanted to believe that. If the creature was sent in retaliation for his killing the gnoll spy, he speculated, why weren't more of the beasts dispatched? Perhaps whoever or whatever had sent the beast had only meant it to be a warning. If that was the case, it was a warning the druid didn't intend to heed.
His fever was gone, and his shoulder felt considerably better, although it was still stiff. It would serve as a physical reminder, at least for a few more days, of his folly with the gnoll. He listened to a bullfrog croaking in the distance. It was searching for a mate; the druid could tell by its prolonged, deep, throaty song. Closer, he heard the buzzing of insects. There were plenty of them in this area, particularly mosquitoes, because of the recent rain and the nearness of the marsh. Fortunately, Galvin mused, insects never bothered him.
"Gnats!" the centaur reached back and swatted his rump with his hand. "You always find the nicest places to camp, Galvin. Plenty of water. Shade in abundance. And more insects than blades of grass."
The druid ignored his friend's complaints and rubbed his hand over his chin, feeling the scratchy stubble growing there. He grabbed his dirty canvas satchel and started to jog toward the trees and the welcome gurgling of a nearby creek, but he slowed