spun thought to catch the beast and draw it back to him. He struck it again and again with his sword of flame, draining more power and more memory from it, until he could strike no more. He knew he was fading and put everything he had into one last blow.
A tidal wave of energy and memory surged over him, smashing him down into darkness.
He woke to find himself sprawled over the slimy wet corpse of the Quan. He felt strange, different, changed. He felt tainted, as if something else had slipped into him, as if by killing the Quan he had somehow become like it. Hundreds of voices whispered to him. He tried to block his ears but the whispering continued for they were in his mind. He wondered if he was sane, if he could ever be sane again after what he had just experienced.
One thing he realised. He was filled with an awesome power. He invoked the healing spells Asea had taught him, and his flesh almost burned with their energy. His lungs cleared. He felt stronger and better than he had done in years. He smiled. That at least was positive.
A hundred voices clamoured desperately in his mind. Thousands of thoughts and memories bubbled up. He wrestled with them, forced them down. With his newly acquired strength it was easy. He felt like a god. He knew he had enough energy to work any sorcery. He had taken it from the Quan. He supposed in his way he had become a Thanatomancer.
He could see how people became addicted to it and the sense of power and well-being it gave. He considered the other spells he knew. His thoughts seemed to have a new clarity. He invoked the spells that would lend him strength and speed. His muscles flexed and bulged. Power flowed through his veins like a drug.
He reached down and picked up the Sea Devil. It was astonishingly light. Whatever sorcery allowed it to move on the surface undoubtedly reduced its weight. He pushed it aside and picked up his knife. He checked the shackles holding him. They were old, and their locks were far from complex and he was a thief from Sorrow. Using the tip of his knife he sprang the mechanism and was free.
He forged a spell-chain in his mind and sent the energy rippling out through his body. The power of his senses became magnified. He could hear whispers in the furthest corners of the hulk, knew that there were guards waiting in the corridor. They were waiting to let the Quan out. He lifted the floating corpse, placed it in front of him and banged on the door. It opened. He pushed the corpse forward so that it impacted on the guards, then stepped forward and killed them both with his knife.
It was easy. They moved so slowly compared to him. Their flesh split like that of a melon. He sprang out into the corridor. More men waited there. Some of them had pistols. He raced forward while they were still confused. Once, twice, three times his blade struck home. Three men died before they even realised what had happened. He picked up a cutlass, stuffed pistols in his belt. He was going to take revenge on some people for what had been done to him.
Yes, yes, went the voices. He forced them down. He could afford no distractions.
He stepped out onto the deck of the hulk. The screams from below had warned the guards on deck. They raised their weapons and raced towards him. He laughed, struck aside one man’s sword arm and buried his dagger in his throat. With a smooth motion he lifted the corpse and hurled it at the remaining guards. He followed it and was among them, killing as he went. Strange exultation and an urge to feed filled him. All of the voices wanted it. He fought that down too. He did not have the time or the knowledge. He hoped he had not the desire.
Within minutes he had cleared the hulk. It appeared he was the only prisoner. Now he wondered how he was going to get off. They were a long way out in the harbour and he could see shapes swimming in the water around the ship. More Quan, he knew. Swimming was not the answer. He searched until he found the small boat tied to the stern of the hulk.
He had no idea whether the Quan would attack him while he was in the boat, but he was going to have to risk it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sardec was astonished when the half-breed staggered into the room. He looked as if he had just fought a war entirely on his own. Small puckered scars covered his face. Blood covered his clothing. He stank of seawater and something else, something sickeningly fish-like. There was madness in his eyes that was a product of more than pain. Even the way he moved was different, somehow inhuman. Instinctively Sardec placed himself between Asea and Rik. He noticed Karim taking up a position, blade bared behind him.
“What happened, Rik?” Asea asked.
The half-breed paused for a moment as if listening to something, or as if searching for words in a foreign language. Sardec drew his pistol. Something was not right here. The half-breed shook his head. “No need for that, Lieutenant. You are in no danger — at least not from me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You should leave the embassy.”
“Where would we go?”
“Anywhere but here. Malkior knows his way around the embassy. I think Valefor showed him.” His eyes were locked with Asea. He seemed to think the words would have more significance to her than they would have to the rest of them, which apparently they did.
“You have met Malkior,” she said.
“He did this to me. He and a friend.”
“You were very lucky to escape them then.” There was suspicion in her voice. She moved her fingers through the gestures of a spell, spoke a word in one of the ancient tongues. An Elder Sign burned in the air before Rik then passed onto his forehead, branding it.
His face became a grim rictus. Strange light appeared in his eyes, and the flesh over the scorch mark rippled and vanished. “That hurt,” he said. “I would be grateful if you did not do it again.”
“It was necessary, Rik. Whatever the problem is, it’s not that you are under any sorcerous compulsion.”
“I am glad we agree on that. We need to get out of here now. Malkior has made a deal with the Quan. And he is coming here to kill you tonight. I am surprised he is not here already.”
“Perhaps he had business elsewhere. Or perhaps he feels he has plenty of time.”
“That may be the case. I don’t know what else to say. Things are going to get hot for us here very soon. I killed one of the Sea Devils while I was making my escape.”
“What?”
“I killed one of the squid-bastards and I am glad I did.”
Sardec remembered the merchant’s tale of the Shipbreakers and his heart sank. It seemed that this embassy was doomed. Apparently Asea’s lover had slaughtered one of the city’s secret rulers, one of the very beings they had come to negotiate with.
“I think you had better tell me what has happened Rik. Lieutenant, I think you should go and see to it that my clothing hampers are set out in the courtyard below.”
“With all due respect, Lady Asea, I don’t think that now is the time to worry about the way you are dressed.”
“Please just do what I ask, Lieutenant. I will answer your questions later.”
Rik waited for the others to clear the room, and for Asea to invoke her wards, then slumped into the chair. His body ached and he knew why. When he had increased his strength and speed he had put stress on muscle and bone in ways he had never done before. He was paying the price for it now. Asea stared at him, measuringly.
“So you still trust me then,” he said eventually.
“It appears that I do. Now tell me what happened!”
He told her, letting her know everything that had happened in the past few hours. She listened intently as he spoke.
“You killed a Quan and ate its soul? You are stronger even than I thought,” There was a trace of awe in her
