unlife. Using both hands, the sorcerer clasped his hands together and then tore them free. The statue shattered into a million pieces and fell into the snow.
“Impressive, Alvis. Truly.” Haures shouted without turning around. “I can’t thank you enough. Do you have any idea how irritating that man is? How disgusting and cruel? I’d grown tired of his watchful eyes. You’ve done me a favour I won’t forget. His immortality posed quite a problem for me but you’ve found a way around that. Quite ingenious.”
“Give it up Haures.” Razakel replied walking towards the Inquisitor.
“If it were only that simple. I don’t have a choice.”
“You do. Cease this madness. You’re alone.”
“To be an Inquisitor is to make difficult decisions. To make sacrifices for the greater good. You know this.”
“Oh please.” Razakel sneered in contempt. “They all say that. Any excuse to justify their own self-interest.”
“I’ve always respected your wisdom, your talent for magic. But it seems you’re selling me short. Everything I have ever done has been for the greater good.”
He rose to his feet and raised both his hands above his head. The energy coalescing around the dragon swirled downwards into the slain creature and its eyes opened. The dragon’s eyes and mouth burned with emerald flame as it rose to its feet with newfound purpose. The leathery black wings twitched and stretched behind it casting a huge shadow across them all.
“By the gods!” He breathed.
Claire couldn’t take her eyes off the dragon, even in death its regal posture and former nobility shone through. It was as beautiful as it was terrifying and it drew all her attention as she watched in horror. It was for this reason that she failed to notice the enthralled cultist creeping up behind her until his dagger erupted through her stomach. She fell forwards into the snow; wracked in pain as her consciousness faded. The last thing she saw was a bolt of lightning explode over her head into her killer and Razakel running towards her. His old face stricken with concern and behind him the approaching glint of silver-grey metal. Then her vision went black and the cold rushed up to meet her.
CHAPTER TWO
Claire awoke inside the Temple-Stronghold wrapped in bandages and tucked into the thermal blankets of the hospital beds. The ward was overcrowded and filled with injured men and women awaiting treatment. Outside the blizzard raged and rattled the thick glass windows. The pain in her abdomen a constant nagging source of discomfort, she sat up with difficulty as her vision cleared.
“You look awful.” A voice declared in a matter of fact tone.
“Cynthia?”
She rubbed her eyes clear and the grinning face of Cynthia sat in a chair beside her bed resolved itself, leaning back reading a tattered old book with the title missing or hidden. Claire suspected it may have been a tawdry romance novel and Cynthia’s sudden expression of guilt when she caught her eye confirmed it.
“Don’t give me that look.” She looked away and stashed the book inside her rucksack.
“What happened?”
“Well, we arrived just as the dragon came back to life, and you got stabbed.” Her green eyes glanced at Claire’s bandages. “Razakel managed to reach you in time to work some of his fancy magic. Sister Elisa sent him away so he’d stop bothering her patients, and her patience.”
Overwhelmed by curiosity Claire pulled away at the bandages to reveal nothing. Any trace of the injury vanished leaving only a flat slightly blood-stained stomach and a nagging pain where it should have been.
Cynthia let out a low whistle. “Trust me. To heal a wound that deep without a trace? I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes. Healing is one of the most delicate, precise and unreliable magics there is. Just ask any of the sisters.”
Claire could believe it, she’d heard horror stories of healers in
“Impressive, Alvis. Truly.” Haures shouted without turning around. “I can’t thank you enough. Do you have any idea how irritating that man is? How disgusting and cruel? I’d grown tired of his watchful eyes. You’ve done me a favour I won’t forget. His immortality posed quite a problem for me but you’ve found a way around that. Quite ingenious.”
“Give it up Haures.” Razakel replied walking towards the Inquisitor.
“If it were only that simple. I don’t have a choice.”
“You do. Cease this madness. You’re alone.”
“To be an Inquisitor is to make difficult decisions. To make sacrifices for the greater good. You know this.”
“Oh please.” Razakel sneered in contempt. “They all say that. Any excuse to justify their own self-interest.”
“I’ve always respected your wisdom, your talent for magic. But it seems you’re selling me short. Everything I have ever done has been for the greater good.”
He rose to his feet and raised both his hands above his head. The energy coalescing around the dragon swirled downwards into the slain creature and its eyes opened. The dragon’s eyes and mouth burned with emerald flame as it rose to its feet with newfound purpose. The leathery black wings twitched and stretched behind it casting a huge shadow across them all.
“By the gods!” He breathed.
Claire couldn’t take her eyes off the dragon, even in death its regal posture and former nobility shone through. It was as beautiful as it was terrifying and it drew all her attention as she watched in horror. It was for this reason that she failed to notice the enthralled cultist creeping up behind her until his dagger erupted through her stomach. She fell forwards into the snow; wracked in pain as her consciousness faded. The last thing she saw was a bolt of lightning explode over her head into her killer and Razakel running towards her. His old face stricken with concern and behind him the approaching glint of silver-grey metal. Then her vision went black and the cold rushed up to meet her.
CHAPTER TWO
Claire awoke inside the Temple-Stronghold wrapped in bandages and tucked into the thermal blankets of the hospital beds. The ward was overcrowded and filled with injured men and women awaiting treatment. Outside the blizzard raged and rattled the thick glass windows. The pain in her abdomen a constant nagging source of discomfort, she sat up with difficulty as her vision cleared.
“You look awful.” A voice declared in a matter of fact tone.
“Cynthia?”
She rubbed her eyes clear and the grinning face of Cynthia sat in a chair beside her bed resolved itself, leaning back reading a tattered old book with the title missing or hidden. Claire suspected it may have been a tawdry romance novel and Cynthia’s sudden expression of guilt when she caught her eye confirmed it.
“Don’t give me that look.” She looked away and stashed the book inside her rucksack.
“What happened?”
“Well, we arrived just as the dragon came back to life, and you got stabbed.” Her green eyes glanced at Claire’s bandages. “Razakel managed to reach you in time to work some of his fancy magic. Sister Elisa sent him away so he’d stop bothering her patients, and her patience.”
Overwhelmed by curiosity Claire pulled away at the bandages to reveal nothing. Any trace of the injury vanished leaving only a flat slightly blood-stained stomach and a nagging pain where it should have been.
Cynthia let out a low whistle. “Trust me. To heal a wound that deep without a trace? I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes. Healing is one of the most delicate, precise and unreliable magics there is. Just ask any of the sisters.”
Claire could believe it, she’d heard horror stories of healers in
Similar Books
