voice.
“It was the Quan or me. I did not have much choice in the matter.”
“And its power is within you now. You don’t have to answer — I can see it and that answers a mass of other questions.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“What are you going to do to me?” Rik braced himself. He was not sure he could or even wanted to kill Asea if she turned on him now, but he was not prepared to be slaughtered like a lamb either. He had gone through too much recently to allow that to happen.
“For what?”
“It would appear that I am now a fully paid up member of the Guild of Thanatomancers for one thing.”
“As you said, that was accidental.”
“And I think I may be going mad. There are a hundred voices in my head.”
“They will fade as you master them.”
“You seem to know a lot about that.”
“More than I care to.”
What did she mean by that, Rik wondered? There was a loud banging on the door. Lieutenant Sardec spoke. “If you have some means of leaving this place, Milady, now would appear to be a good time to use them.”
“What is happening?” Asea asked.
“Our lookouts have reported that something is very amiss in the harbour, and it looks like there is a small army heading our way.”
“We shall talk about this later, Rik. Now we had better leave this place.”
Malkior entered the observation post in the flat across the street from the embassy. Soon it would be time to mount his attack. The spy he had set to watch the Taloreans looked up at him, and smiled. The power from those souls he had just devoured roiled within him. He felt strong and powerful enough to overcome even the likes of Asea. As was always the case after he had performed a ritual, the voices in his head whispered to him like old friends, reminding him he was alive and powerful, while they were mere dregs inside of his brain.
“Things have been quiet since the beggar went inside, sir.”
“What beggar?”
“Same one as left early this morning unless I miss my guess. The one you told us to keep an eye open for.”
“The half-breed, Rik? Asea’s lover?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That can’t be true.”
“I saw it with my own eyes.” Malkior cursed. He should have come here earlier, but he wanted to give his prey time to go to sleep, and to build up his magical strength through thanatomantic rituals. Tonight of all nights, he needed to be strong.
“Are you absolutely certain?” Even as Malkior asked the question, the door opened and an Intercessor entered the room. It was the man, Alaryn, a being who Malkior trusted as far as he could throw him, if that. There was no need to ask how the Quan’s lackey had found him. Very little went on in the city that the Council and the Sea Devils did not know about.
“You have some answers to give, Lord Malkior?” he said.
“Are you sure they can’t wait?” asked Malkior pleasantly. “I am about to be very busy.”
“The Quan are not happy with you.”
Malkior turned and stared. The voices babbled in a chorus of anger and confusion. “What?”
“One of their Exarchs has been killed. They think you have something to do with it.” Malkior squelched the impulse to slay the fool on the spot.
“What nonsense is this?”
“The Exarch was killed on the prison hulk.”
“That’s not possible. He was alive when I saw him not two hours ago.”
“He is dead now.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. But there was no mark upon him, and the Quan Overlords think his soul was drained.” Alaryn looked at him suspiciously. Malkior wondered if the signs of his recent ritual feeding were visible to the Intercessor’s eye. The wrong impression made here might prove fatal.
“Well what did the men on the hulk tell you?”
“Nothing. They were all dead.”
A chill passed up Malkior’s spine. A crescendo of fear rose among the voices. Was it possible that his supposed son had done this? Had the little bastard been that much more capable than Malkior gave him credit for being? Had he sat there and laughed at Malkior then casually murdered a Quan Exarch and his Intercessor- recruited bodyguard before making his escape and returning to the embassy? Malkior laughed, caught between the impossibility of the idea and the apparent fact of it being true.
“I can assure you this is no laughing matter, Lord Malkior. You told us the boy would be an easy target. You asked for a Quan Exarch to interrogate him yourself. Now he is gone and all witnesses to the way the boy escaped are dead — other than yourself. The Quan are quite keen to ask you some questions.”
“I’ll bet they are.”
“No need to worry about Lady Asea,” said Alaryn. “The Council is sending a company of soldiers to request her presence too.”
Malkior felt his whole plan slipping beyond his control. If he remained here, the Sea Devils might catch him and he could imagine the form their interrogation would take. He had no desire to find out whether he was capable of overcoming multiple Exarchs in sorcerous conflict or of surviving the sort of sorcerous interrogation they would perform. He had no desire to be stuck here with the Quan turned against him either. Fortunately, as always, he had prepared a bolthole and was ready to use it, and at least Asea was trapped here at the mercy of the Quan, and he doubted they would be gentle with her.
Rik stepped out into the courtyard in the centre of the embassy. His mind reeled from the night’s events. What he saw stumped him completely. The bodyguard was assembled there and Asea’s dress baskets were set up in the middle of the courtyard.
“If you would be so kind as to open the baskets and take out their contents,” she said to Sergeant Hef. “Please be very careful.”
Slowly, realisation of what was happening filled Rik. As he watched the men opened the wicker baskets. There was cloth within, but it was not made in the form of dresses. It was made in the form of Benjario’s huge balloon. As Asea gave calm careful orders the huge gasbags were laid flat and attached to eyeholes in the side of baskets with cables of spidersilk. There were three of them, and space enough in them for all ten Foragers, Sardec and Asea. Suddenly, a lot of things made sense.
Asea looked inside each of the baskets and produced a small rune-covered flask. They were much smaller than the ones she had used to summon elementals from in the past, but if he guessed correctly containing creatures more than strong enough for her purposes.
“Can you control all of them at once?” he asked her.
“They are much less powerful than War Elementals, and much less strong-willed. It will be a strain but I can manage it.”
“What about the wards in the city walls? Will they not destroy them?”
“I doubt it, but if they do it will be of no matter.”
“It will be to us, if your creatures fail and we plummet to our doom.”
“That will not happen, Rik. Trust me.”
“I guess I am just going to have to.”
Without further ado, she opened the first of the flasks. A small salamander, a tiny fire-elemental, spun out, its flickering light mirrored in the flask’s polished interior.
