The Swordmage Trilogy: Volume 02 - The Darkest Hour by Martin Hengst Page B

of a life forcefully taken.
                  Withdrawing from the sphere, he knelt and felt for the pulse at Xenir’s throat. It was there, strong and steady. The Warleader seemed no worse for his ill-advised adventure.
                  “ Speak ,” the voice came not in sound, but within his head. It was thick and sultry and oozed a sensuality not to be denied. “ Speak your desires so that we may bargain and my need be fulfilled. ”
                  Zarfensis struggled against the physical urges that were surging through him. He opened his belt pouch and withdrew a vial of faintly glowing runedust.
                  “This is what will sate your needs, Oracle.” Zarfensis waved the vial. “You will not sate yourself on the urges of the flesh.”
                  “ You may not be willing...but the other... ”
                  Zarfensis waved at the still unconscious form of the Warleader. “The other is outside your control. You will bargain with me, or bargain not at all.”
                  There was another rumbling roar and Zarfensis focused all his thoughts on the idea of slipping the vial back into his pouch and returning to the Warrens. The rutting urges vanished as quickly as they had appeared and were replaced with the intense feeling of a whelp’s sulking.
                  “ I will bargain with you, ” the Oracle agreed sullenly. “ Or not at all. ”
                  Zarfensis unstopped the vial of runedust and poured some of the fine crystals into his palm. Stepping toward the pillar, but being careful to keep a safe distance, he puffed and blew a cloud of the crystals toward the Oracle. The powder was consumed in a shower of sparks and the Oracle’s orb glowed a bit brighter.
                  The sound of claws on rock from behind him alerted Zarfensis that Xenir had regained consciousness. The High Priest turned and watched as the Warleader slowly got to his feet, shaking his head. His eyes met Zarfensis’s and then slid away. The embarrassment would serve him well, Zarfensis thought. He’d be more on his guard next time. If there was a next time.
                  “ More! ” the Oracle demanded imperiously.
                  “Tell me what I wish to know,” Zarfensis countered, twisting the vial between his fingers. “Then you shall have the rest.”
                  “ We need it ,” the Oracle whined. “ Please! ”
                  “Tell me what I wish to know,” the High Priest demanded, reinforcing his words with the mental image of the vial of runedust shattered on the floor beyond the Oracle’s reach.
                  In the pause that followed, Zarfensis idly considered abandoning this foolhardy meeting and returning to the Warrens. Surely he and Xenir were resourceful enough to find the relic on their own.
                  “ The relic you seek sleeps far to the north, buried in the ice of ages past, ” the Oracle’s voice was strong and clear. “ It lies within your grasp if you can find it and wake it, but beware, the Chosen are not the only suitors the relic seeks. There are others, climbing, sneaking, and burrowing through forgotten tunnels to find that which you seek. ”
                  “The vermin?” Zarfensis asked, his lips pulling back from his teeth in a feral snarl.
                  “ Among others, ” the Oracle laughed. “ More, now! ”
                  Zarfensis poured the remainder of the runedust into his palm and blew it toward the pillar. In a fluid motion, he had jumped to the lip of the tunnel, beckoning for Xenir to follow. They navigated the tunnel as quickly as the low ceiling would allow, finally emerging at the junction that had seemed unbearably hot not long before.
                  “My vision--” Xenir