Dragon's Tongue (The Demon Bound) by Laura J Underwood Page A

Turlough roared, cutting the air with one arm. “And under the laws of this Mage Council you are subject to be sundered of your power for consorting with demons and bringing them into our sanctuary.”
    “S…sundered?” Alaric whispered. That sounded rather painful in his estimation.
    “After which you will be put into prison to await trial. And if it is found that you consorted with demons for purpose of ill gain, you will be executed by beheading.”
    “Uncle, I think you should give your words careful consideration before you jump to erroneous conclusions and make a fool of yourself.”
    Turlough spun around towards the speaker, fire filling his eyes. Alaric blinked and peered beyond the billowing robes at the two figures as they approached. One was a woman, lithe, sloe-eyed and exceptionally beautiful in spite of her simple manner of dress. The other was Fenelon.
    “Watch your tongue!” Turlough snapped.
    “Gladly,” Fenelon said, “but I do think you should at least listen to reason.”
    “What reason?” Turlough challenged.
    “If Alaric had brought the demon in, the creature would have set off every warding spell we’ve woven into this place,” Fenelon said.
    “He could have cloaked the demon’s presence,” Lorymer said in defense of the High Mage.
    “Then why did Wendon not notice the cloaking spell,” Fenelon said, wagging a finger. “He is particularly sensitive to cloaking spells. That is why he is sent to greet newcomers, is it not?” And only Alaric could see the faint gleam that filled Fenelon’s eyes as he said that. He knows perfectly well Wendon is not able to sense his cloaking spells, Alaric thought.
    “True enough,” Turlough said with a sigh, “But this young man could have gated the beast in afterwards, and cloaked the gate to hide its coming.
    “Were that the case, why bother hiding the demon in a psaltery?” Fenelon said and smiled. “In either case, it is very unlikely. Alaric does not know how to cast a gate spell.”
    Alaric wanted to kiss Fenelon for that one. Of course…I’m safe…It was Fenelon who cloaked the gate spell and… He stopped with those thoughts. Fenelon opened a gate spell…the psaltery felt heavy at the inn…the bitter taste that assailed Alaric’s tongue all evening…and that sense of being watched from close quarters. Horns, this whole mess was all Fenelon’s fault!
    “You are certain of this?” Turlough said.
    “If you’re not willing to take my word for it,” Fenelon said, “Then let Etienne truth touch him.”
    Turlough sighed once more and nodded. “Very well. Let us get this over with. The sooner it’s done, the sooner we can all get back to our beds.”
    The dark-eyed woman stepped forward, and having her so close, Alaric felt his face flush. She smiled. “This will not hurt,” she said and put the tip of one finger against his forehead, closing her eyes. “Question him now,” she said.
    Alaric felt a tingling sensation wash his skin. Her aura had a warm, sensual feeling to it. He swallowed hard and hoped the loose folds of his nightshirt were enough to hide his feelings. Just how much can she sense? he wondered.
    “Did you, Alaric Braidwine, willingly and knowingly gate a demon into this place?” Turlough asked.
    “No, Lord Magister, I did not,” Alaric said softly.
    “And are you possessed of the knowledge to gate walk across the world and cloak your spells?”
    “No, Lord Magister,” Alaric said. “Those are but a few of the skills I came here to learn.”
    Etienne suddenly opened her eyes and withdrew her finger. “He speaks true, Lord Magister,” she said. “I felt no lie in his words. He is innocent of all accusations.”
    If it were not for the guards still holding Alaric’s arms, he would have kissed Etienne. Relief washed over him like a wave. His head spun.
    Turlough frowned with just a hint of disappointment as the mage woman turned in his direction. “Very well, he is obviously innocent. Release