“I didn’t ask to have you along,” he added. “And I never promised to be the ideal travel partner.”
They sat in silence for a long time, Darien’s frustration clear on his face.
Garrick smiled despite himself. There were times when he couldn’t help but like Darien. His partner had an inner essence that could be infectious, and he wasn’t as annoying as Garrick had first thought. It was true that Darien was not a good singer, but he took great joy in the activity, and that was hard to ignore.
“I wouldn’t mind a song right now,” Garrick finally said.
Darien chuckled. “I’m sure you don’t mean that, but this time I think I’ll just take you at your word.”
Garrick leaned back against his bedroll and closed his eyes as Darien sang, and for the first time in over a week, he actually fell asleep.
Chapter 11
“Garrick!”
He bolted upright to the sound of thundering hooves ringing in the darkness. The crack of a breaking branch rang out from the line of shadow-draped trees farther down the mountain. Four riders, chasing one, he thought.
Darien peered into the moonless night.
A green flash lit the forest, and a man screamed. Unnatural odors wafted on the breeze. Lectodinian sorcery, mixed once again with the unambiguously bloody taint of Koradictine. Garrick’s ire rose with a taste for vengeance. If the orders were involved, he would be involved, too. And this time the advantage of surprise would be on
his
side.
Red-orange sparks flared further down in the forest.
Darien gripped his sword. “I’m going to go see what’s happening,” he said as he stepped down the hill.
Garrick grabbed his own weapon and slipped toward the action.
As he drew near, the sickening crack of snapping bones came from deep inside the woods and the lead horse cried in the darkness, falling with a horrible crashing sound that Garrick knew too well.
A winded voice came through the woods.
“So, my poor Sunathri, your chase is at its end.”
A flash of blinding light came from nearby to reveal three men on horses covering their eyes with the crooks of their robed elbows. A damaged horse struggled pitifully on the undergrowth. The wizard they had been chasing dashed into the wood, this time on foot, and was gone before Garrick could set sight on him.
With their prey now dismounted, the lead rider waved his cohorts to loop around. The horses slipped into the darkness, blowing with lathered complaints that told Garrick they had been hard used.
He followed the leader—a Lectodinian by the smell of his sorcery.
As he drew closer, the rider cast a thin magelight onto his hand to expose his prey. Garrick used his sword to pull back a branch that gave him a better view.
The mage's prey was a woman.
Her glare was defiant. Her eyes reflected the magelight with unabridged hatred as she struggled to free herself from a mass of whitish paste that held her foot affixed to the ground. Her long hair was black in the darkness, disheveled from her ride and hanging past her shoulders in waves. She held one arm gingerly against her ribcage, her teeth were gritted in obvious pain.
“Aha!” the Lectodinian rider exclaimed as he saw her. “This time, escape will not be so easy.”
“You can’t kill us all, Elman,” she said. “And I’ll not go down without a fight.”
“Anything less would be … unsporting,” the Lectodinian said with a tone of voice that made Garrick’s skin crawl.
The woman and the Lectodinian cast spells at the same time. Their magic clashed with multicolored sparks in the middle of the clearing.
She was Torean.
Of course she was.
Who else would a mage of the orders be chasing around in the midnight hours? It made him mad. He felt his energy stir, and he set gates as he reached to the plane of magic.
The Lectodinian appeared stronger than the woman, but he held his energy in reserve, toying with the Torean like she was a crippled mouse and he was a tomcat. A Koradictine mage, and another
They sat in silence for a long time, Darien’s frustration clear on his face.
Garrick smiled despite himself. There were times when he couldn’t help but like Darien. His partner had an inner essence that could be infectious, and he wasn’t as annoying as Garrick had first thought. It was true that Darien was not a good singer, but he took great joy in the activity, and that was hard to ignore.
“I wouldn’t mind a song right now,” Garrick finally said.
Darien chuckled. “I’m sure you don’t mean that, but this time I think I’ll just take you at your word.”
Garrick leaned back against his bedroll and closed his eyes as Darien sang, and for the first time in over a week, he actually fell asleep.
Chapter 11
“Garrick!”
He bolted upright to the sound of thundering hooves ringing in the darkness. The crack of a breaking branch rang out from the line of shadow-draped trees farther down the mountain. Four riders, chasing one, he thought.
Darien peered into the moonless night.
A green flash lit the forest, and a man screamed. Unnatural odors wafted on the breeze. Lectodinian sorcery, mixed once again with the unambiguously bloody taint of Koradictine. Garrick’s ire rose with a taste for vengeance. If the orders were involved, he would be involved, too. And this time the advantage of surprise would be on
his
side.
Red-orange sparks flared further down in the forest.
Darien gripped his sword. “I’m going to go see what’s happening,” he said as he stepped down the hill.
Garrick grabbed his own weapon and slipped toward the action.
As he drew near, the sickening crack of snapping bones came from deep inside the woods and the lead horse cried in the darkness, falling with a horrible crashing sound that Garrick knew too well.
A winded voice came through the woods.
“So, my poor Sunathri, your chase is at its end.”
A flash of blinding light came from nearby to reveal three men on horses covering their eyes with the crooks of their robed elbows. A damaged horse struggled pitifully on the undergrowth. The wizard they had been chasing dashed into the wood, this time on foot, and was gone before Garrick could set sight on him.
With their prey now dismounted, the lead rider waved his cohorts to loop around. The horses slipped into the darkness, blowing with lathered complaints that told Garrick they had been hard used.
He followed the leader—a Lectodinian by the smell of his sorcery.
As he drew closer, the rider cast a thin magelight onto his hand to expose his prey. Garrick used his sword to pull back a branch that gave him a better view.
The mage's prey was a woman.
Her glare was defiant. Her eyes reflected the magelight with unabridged hatred as she struggled to free herself from a mass of whitish paste that held her foot affixed to the ground. Her long hair was black in the darkness, disheveled from her ride and hanging past her shoulders in waves. She held one arm gingerly against her ribcage, her teeth were gritted in obvious pain.
“Aha!” the Lectodinian rider exclaimed as he saw her. “This time, escape will not be so easy.”
“You can’t kill us all, Elman,” she said. “And I’ll not go down without a fight.”
“Anything less would be … unsporting,” the Lectodinian said with a tone of voice that made Garrick’s skin crawl.
The woman and the Lectodinian cast spells at the same time. Their magic clashed with multicolored sparks in the middle of the clearing.
She was Torean.
Of course she was.
Who else would a mage of the orders be chasing around in the midnight hours? It made him mad. He felt his energy stir, and he set gates as he reached to the plane of magic.
The Lectodinian appeared stronger than the woman, but he held his energy in reserve, toying with the Torean like she was a crippled mouse and he was a tomcat. A Koradictine mage, and another
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