Lectodinian edged closer, crimson fire already playing on the fingertips of the Koradictine.
They hadn’t seen him, Garrick thought.
He used his anger to focus his work. He pulled magic through his link, matching the Koradictine’s timing as the mage cast a bolt of raw energy toward the woman. It was a powerful sorcery, and well-cast, but rather than fight him, Garrick let the spell’s momentum carry it forward and only served to divert it gently along a new course that hit the second Lectodinian squarely in the chest.
The mage fell to the ground like a sack of flour.
“What?” the Koradictine cried with surprise.
Garrick felt the dead Lectodinian’s energy rise from its body. Without a thought, he drank it in. It felt good, he realized with morbid satisfaction. Gloriously good.
“What did you do that for?” the lead mage snapped at the Koradictine.
“I didn’t.”
The Koradictine stared wildly into the woods and threw a hastily prepared ball of mage fire toward Garrick’s position. Garrick stepped away so the fireball merely sputtered in the undergrowth. These were powerful mages playing a deadly game.
This was no time to hesitate.
Garrick gripped his sword in one hand, and his wild energy boiling up as he rushed forward.
Another bolt flashed in the woods.
Garrick drew near the Koradictine, and the mage’s horse skittered. The mage waved a hand, and it was suddenly as if Garrick were walking through bog water. He cut the mire with a blast of life force, and plowed on. Then the Koradictine was close enough that Garrick could smell the horse’s lather and see the pupils of the mage’s eyes.
The odor of blood was cloying.
Red fire played on the Koradictine’s fingertips.
Garrick focused his life force on the tip of his sword as he swung the blade. It took the wizard under the rib cage just as he released his spell. The mage fell to the ground and white pain flared in Garrick’s chest.
He stood over the mage, then, blood pounding, his body burning with new hunger.
The Koradictine was still alive.
A grotesque grin crawled across Garrick’s face. A staggering need for vengeance flooded his mind. He caressed the life force inside the injured mage, molded it as he bent forward, thinking about Alistair, thinking about his fellow apprentices, and thinking about the orders’ cowardly attack on him in Caledena.
Someone will pay,
Garrick thought.
Someone will pay.
Light flared around him.
Energy crackled in the space between his fingers.
The wizard screamed from his place on the ground—a terrified, inhuman scream. Then he was done, and the wizard’s body lay in a huddled mass amid the forest undergrowth.
Sweat broke over Garrick’s forehead.
He had done it. He had ripped a man’s life force straight from his living body.
Blue magelight rose behind him.
He turned to see the Lectodinian leader, palm burning with illumination as he peered toward Garrick, his eyes hooded and his lips set in a tight line.
Garrick stepped into the clearing, his sword dripping Koradictine blood. His eyes were bloated and red-rimmed with the power of new life force.
“You are a demon,” the mage said.
“No,” Garrick replied as he strode toward the wizard. “But you’re going to wish I was.”
The Lectodinian kicked at his horse’s flank, and pulled its reins to turn it around. “Your luck is strong tonight,” he said to the woman as he doused his magelight.
Then the horse thundered into the darkness.
Unnoticed, Darien stepped from behind a tree as the mage passed. He reached up and pulled the rider roughly off his saddle. The man’s body hit the ground with a solid thud. Darien quickly placed a knee on Elman’s chest, then roped his hands and feet with cord.
Garrick stood over them both.
The power of their life forces was bold, the aroma sweet and strong. Wild magic boiled inside him as he reached toward Darien’s hunched form.
No!
he thought to himself.
He pulled back and put his shaking
They hadn’t seen him, Garrick thought.
He used his anger to focus his work. He pulled magic through his link, matching the Koradictine’s timing as the mage cast a bolt of raw energy toward the woman. It was a powerful sorcery, and well-cast, but rather than fight him, Garrick let the spell’s momentum carry it forward and only served to divert it gently along a new course that hit the second Lectodinian squarely in the chest.
The mage fell to the ground like a sack of flour.
“What?” the Koradictine cried with surprise.
Garrick felt the dead Lectodinian’s energy rise from its body. Without a thought, he drank it in. It felt good, he realized with morbid satisfaction. Gloriously good.
“What did you do that for?” the lead mage snapped at the Koradictine.
“I didn’t.”
The Koradictine stared wildly into the woods and threw a hastily prepared ball of mage fire toward Garrick’s position. Garrick stepped away so the fireball merely sputtered in the undergrowth. These were powerful mages playing a deadly game.
This was no time to hesitate.
Garrick gripped his sword in one hand, and his wild energy boiling up as he rushed forward.
Another bolt flashed in the woods.
Garrick drew near the Koradictine, and the mage’s horse skittered. The mage waved a hand, and it was suddenly as if Garrick were walking through bog water. He cut the mire with a blast of life force, and plowed on. Then the Koradictine was close enough that Garrick could smell the horse’s lather and see the pupils of the mage’s eyes.
The odor of blood was cloying.
Red fire played on the Koradictine’s fingertips.
Garrick focused his life force on the tip of his sword as he swung the blade. It took the wizard under the rib cage just as he released his spell. The mage fell to the ground and white pain flared in Garrick’s chest.
He stood over the mage, then, blood pounding, his body burning with new hunger.
The Koradictine was still alive.
A grotesque grin crawled across Garrick’s face. A staggering need for vengeance flooded his mind. He caressed the life force inside the injured mage, molded it as he bent forward, thinking about Alistair, thinking about his fellow apprentices, and thinking about the orders’ cowardly attack on him in Caledena.
Someone will pay,
Garrick thought.
Someone will pay.
Light flared around him.
Energy crackled in the space between his fingers.
The wizard screamed from his place on the ground—a terrified, inhuman scream. Then he was done, and the wizard’s body lay in a huddled mass amid the forest undergrowth.
Sweat broke over Garrick’s forehead.
He had done it. He had ripped a man’s life force straight from his living body.
Blue magelight rose behind him.
He turned to see the Lectodinian leader, palm burning with illumination as he peered toward Garrick, his eyes hooded and his lips set in a tight line.
Garrick stepped into the clearing, his sword dripping Koradictine blood. His eyes were bloated and red-rimmed with the power of new life force.
“You are a demon,” the mage said.
“No,” Garrick replied as he strode toward the wizard. “But you’re going to wish I was.”
The Lectodinian kicked at his horse’s flank, and pulled its reins to turn it around. “Your luck is strong tonight,” he said to the woman as he doused his magelight.
Then the horse thundered into the darkness.
Unnoticed, Darien stepped from behind a tree as the mage passed. He reached up and pulled the rider roughly off his saddle. The man’s body hit the ground with a solid thud. Darien quickly placed a knee on Elman’s chest, then roped his hands and feet with cord.
Garrick stood over them both.
The power of their life forces was bold, the aroma sweet and strong. Wild magic boiled inside him as he reached toward Darien’s hunched form.
No!
he thought to himself.
He pulled back and put his shaking
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