“Did you have a good talk?” Damien stood up and absorbed his construct.
“Very good.” Lane hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For showing me what a brat, and worse, hypocrite, I’d been. I judged sorcerers for their power at the same time I hated being judged for my lack of power. Well, for now on I judge people as people, no more no less.”
“I’m glad I could help. I’m sure it’ll make you an even better diplomat.”
“More than that, it’ll make me a better person. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“I’d like that.” Damien smiled as she walked down the hall. When Lane had gone he rapped on the open door and stuck his head in. The archmage was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. “Master?”
“Come in. Close the door.”
Damien did as she said, taking his place in front of her desk, hands clasped behind his back. He felt her sound barrier fall into place.
“For heaven’s sake, Damien, sit down. You don’t need to stand like a man waiting for news of his execution every time you report in. Lane tells me you did good work, though she was a little vague on the details of what happened in the badlands.”
Damien settled into an empty chair, still uncomfortable sitting in the presence of his superior. “I wasn’t certain how much I should tell her. I figured I’d let you fill her in on any details she might need.”
“Good decision. Why don’t you just start at the beginning.”
Damien did as she said. It took a good half an hour to complete his report and she never stopped him once. When he reached their arrival at the royal castle Damien said, “That’s what happened. Mikhail Santen escaped and I’m sure many bandits still inhabit the fortress, but the families are safe, for the moment anyway.”
The archmage shook her head. “Connor Blackman, who would have thought. We knew that boy was trouble, but to become a warlock and threaten the kingdom… I wouldn’t have believed it. We need to find him, and Mikhail too.”
“Yes, Master. The kingdom is a big place. Where should we start looking?”
“The Tower. Some of Connor’s yearmates might have some insight into his habits. He must be in the wild lands. We could hardly miss a crimson-eyed warlock wandering around civilization.”
“Judging from Mikhail’s armor the Cult of the Horned One is involved somehow. I wonder if Connor summoned the demon I killed and opened the hell gate Jen found.”
“I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.” The archmage steepled her fingers, tapping the index fingers together as she thought. “In fact it wouldn’t surprise me if he either took over the old cult or created a new one from scratch. On a more straight-forward note, good work dealing with the mayor of Allentown. I don’t know how he operated without our notice for so long. I need to speak to Banlon about sending more sorcerers to patrol the little southern towns.”
“Banlon?” Damien didn’t recognize the name.
“Sorry, High Sorcerer Banlon, Master of the South. He’s too interested in his research and it takes away from his more mundane duties. I never figured out why he stood for High Sorcerer at the last gathering.”
Damien had no interest in politics. “What should I tell the king? I’m sure he’ll want me to have dinner with him now that I’m back.”
“I’ll give him a full report, but if he asks hold nothing back. We have no secrets from the king.” The archmage groaned to her feet and Damien leapt up to join her. “I knew I was right to make you my agent. This mission just solidifies it. On a personal note, I don’t know what happened between you and Lane, but you brought home a different person. Wherever you buried her anger I’m glad to see it gone. For that gift I thank you, not as your master, but as a mother glad to see her daughter happy.”
“She’s a wonderful woman and I’m glad I got to spend some time with her. Is there anything else, Master?”
“No, take a few days, rest, relax. When you’re ready come see me. I’m sure I’ll have no shortage of missions for you.”
Chapter 51
Mikhail hurt everywhere, but nowhere so much as his shoulder. His shoulder where an arm should have hung. Instead, his arm lay on the ground back in the badlands. All thanks to that puny worm. The boy had ruined everything. The horse under him shuddered. The beast had almost reached its limit. The animals could only bear the demonic energy so long before it burned them out. He’d have to land soon or risk falling to the mountains below.
Not that it mattered. Below him the entrance to his master’s base was only half a mile away. The stupid animal could last that far anyway. A minute later Mikhail spotted the shadowed cave mouth. He urged the horse down.
It landed in a patch of snow, shuddered again, and collapsed. Mikhail held out his hand and absorbed the demonic energy he’d used to transform his mount. When the last of the power drained away from the horse, all that remained was a rotted corpse. He’d need a new mount. Mikhail rotated his damaged shoulder. He’d need a new arm as well, assuming the master didn’t kill him.
Mikhail shook his head. Master Blackman wouldn’t dispose of him so lightly. He was the master’s strong right hand, well strong left hand anyway.
The tunnel had no lights burning anywhere, but to Mikhail’s demon eyes the path was clear. He followed the rough passage for fifty paces, ignoring several side passages. With each step the master’s power grew stronger. The warlock was probably brooding in his library again. He should get out more. It wasn’t healthy to sit in the dark and think too much.
Mikhail barged into the library. The master sat on his black
