Shades of the Past_ Book Six of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [152]
“Oh no you don’t,” Jiron says as he follows, “you’ll not get away that easily.” Grabbing his foot, Jiron stops him and says, “I’m going to do to you what you did to Tinok.”
James tries to get away but Jiron grabs his hand and says, “First, I’ll start with the fingers.” He puts a knee on James’ chest to prevent him from getting away.
“I didn’t do anything to Tinok!” he cries out. “It was you who betrayed me! Traitor!” Taking a large piece of rubble, he tries to strike Jiron in the side of the head. Jiron sees the blow coming and lashes out with his hand. The blow causes the stone to fly out of James’ hand.
“Lies!” he screams. “Nothing but lies have I had from you, one I called friend.” Pulling James forefinger to an exposed position, he brings his knife to it. “This is for Tinok!”
Crack!
The floor beneath them, weakened by the blasts, is no longer able to support their weight. With a loud crack, it gives way.
Jiron loses his grip on James as they both plummet to the floor below. They fall for what seems like a long ways before they land on the floor of the room below. Hitting hard, the breath is knocked out of Jiron. James is dazed and the orb that he carries falls from his hand and rolls across the floor.
It takes a minute before they are able to move again, James is the first to get to his feet. He tries to summon the magic but due to the blow to his head, is unable to concentrate sufficiently. Moving away from where Jiron is working to get back to his feet, he hurries around a raised dais sitting in the middle of the room, to the door on the far side.
A noise behind him causes him to glance back and sees that Jiron is almost upon him. He turns to face him as the knife falls and grabs the descending arm with both hands.
“Now, let’s finish this!” Jiron says as he brings his other knife in position to strike
Crack!
From above, another section of the ceiling directly above them gives way and falls. Still locked together, they both jump to the right to avoid the falling stone and land on the dais. A flash of light and then they’re plunged into darkness.
“Milord?”
Roused from his slumber, Kerith-Ayxt finds his aide Aezyl standing at his tent flap. “Yes?” he asks. Sitting up on the edge of his cot, he motions for his aide to enter.
Aezyl enters the dark tent as a candle flares to light on the lone small table. Coming to stand before his lord he says, “It’s over.”
“They’re dead then?” he asks.
“It would appear so,” his aide informs him. “We detected magic being used and then nothing. When we looked for them all we found was darkness.”
“Excellent,” he says. “Continue keeping an eye on their last known position just in case.”
“By the way milord,” Aezyl says as he hands the High Lord Magus a courier pouch. “This arrived an hour ago,” he explains. “When the messenger arrived at the School, they sent him up here.”
Taking the pouch he sees the seal of the Emperor emblazoned on the side. Sighing, he says to his aide, “Thank you. Keep me informed if there is any indication they are still alive.”
“Yes, sir,” he says and then turns to leave the tent.
He sets the pouch on his cot as gets up to pour himself a glass of wine. Not the recommended drink for those who work with magic, but as he’s the High Lord Magus, no one will gainsay him about it.
After filling his glass with wine, he replaces the wine bottle in the travel pack. Picking up the courier pouch he moves over to the table where the candle burns. He takes his seat and places his glass of wine on the table. Opening the pouch, he pulls out a single letter.
It bears the seal of Lord Cytok and reads as follows:
Lord Magus,
You are to take as many mages as are able and set out forthwith