Disciple of War Disciple of War (Art of the Adept #4) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,1

few minutes ago only made him feel worse. Selene had returned several months ago, and now that summer had arrived, Will looked forward to spending more time with her without classes getting in the way, but lately it seemed he kept putting the wrong foot forward.

The biggest issue between them lately had been her training. She’d insisted they should move to the next stage, but Will kept delaying. While Aislinn had claimed that Selene was ready, he didn’t believe it. She’d brought Selene back almost the moment the heart-stone enchantment was removed. It was all too convenient. And if I get it wrong, she could die.

He couldn’t imagine what that would be like. He didn’t think he could live with himself if she died because of a mistake on his part. Actually, he wasn’t sure he could survive even if it was someone else’s fault. She was everything to him.

Rather than sulk, he went to the Alchemy building to check on his latest batch of potions. Ever since the near-disaster when Tiny and Janice had almost died, he had resolved to never be caught unprepared again. He had long since converted all the troll urine he’d obtained into regeneration potions, and he now had thirty-four of the precious vials stored in the limnthal. He’d also been disciplined in his manufacture of other potions. The phosphorous he had liberated had been turned into more than two hundred vials of alchemist’s fire, and he had produced nearly fifty vials of Dragon’s Heart potions after several rounds of what he called ‘vampire milking.’

As disgusting as the name sounded, it was far nicer than the actual process of hydrating his imprisoned vampire with fresh pig’s blood, then bleeding the monster for its vital fluids. He had long since quit storing the foul creature in the limnthal too. After perfecting his process of harvesting, he had also obtained a large chest with solid iron sides to store the vampire’s nearly dead body within until he needed it again. To further increase the security of the setup he had put a ward in place that would flood the chest with a simpler version of Ethelgren’s light spell if someone opened the chest without using the proper command word. The spell would destroy the vampire rather than allow it to escape or be used for darker purposes.

The ward had been courtesy of Selene’s assistance, as she was a far more accomplished spell caster. It had been a frustrating project for her, though, since she wasn’t allowed to do any magic herself. She had to teach Will and be patient as he stumbled through the process. There had been several cutting remarks regarding which of them was the actual apprentice and who was the teacher.

At the Alchemy building, he found that his latest batch of blood-cleanse potions were ready for decanting and activation, so he set about his work. It was a tedious process, so he found his mind wandering frequently, and when he looked around the small lab, he remembered some of the wild events that had happened there. He didn’t miss the events, but he did miss the people.

Tiny had returned with Sir Kyle to Barrowden, and the Nerrow family had left the capital and returned to their estate which lay three days’ travel to the south. The family’s ancestral dwelling was on the coast, and the closest village was a small hamlet named Nettlehurst, which was slightly smaller than the village Will had grown up in—or so he was told, since he had never been there.

The departure of the Nerrow family had been painful for him, although he’d done his best not to show them just how deeply it had affected him; the weeks that they had shared his home had been both stressful and wonderful. It had given him a chance to get to know Tabitha, his younger sister, whose playful side hid a warm and sometimes overly serious heart. It had also given him time to adjust to his new relationship with Laina, who continued to pretend to find him irritating while simultaneously serving as his greatest defender whenever she felt their father might be trying to push him away.

It had been a delicate balancing act, since neither Agnes—their mother—nor Tabitha was aware of the fact that Mark Nerrow was his father. Now that they were gone, the home he shared with Selene seemed large and empty.

After finishing up with the potions, he went to his favorite spot and ran through his daily