Disciple of War Disciple of War (Art of the Adept #4) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,219

Madrok had already found them. Selene’s eyes found his as Will opened his mouth to shout a warning. “Run!”

A black cloud of crackling energy appeared, and then a foul wind blasted into their faces, threatening to send them tumbling. A moment later, the cloud had vanished, and a heavy-set man with dark blue skin stood at the base of the broken stone hill. Other than his odd skin tone, the newcomer looked entirely human, but any person with the ability to sense turyn could tell he wasn’t.

The air practically shimmered around him, like a heatwave in the summer. The sense of power was so strong that it immediately reminded Will of the fact that he badly needed to empty his bladder. “Looking for me?” asked the man in perfectly accented Darrowan.

Will half slid, half climbed down the broken masonry slope. He needed firm footing for what was yet to come. Across from him, he saw Gan had picked Selene up and settled her into the basket on his back before leaping down in one long bound. The young troll backed away from the blue man while Lrmeg and the other trolls assumed a more aggressive posture. Will heartily approved. Good boy, he thought.

“Not a bad idea,” said the blue demon. “It’s always better to die on level ground.”

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t come out to play,” said Will.

Madrok nodded. “I was rather attached to the idea of you futilely fighting my army for days before finally having to withdraw and accept the fact that your world was no longer your own. The idea of despair is so romantic, but you just had to ruin it.”

“I’m surprised your patience lasted as long as it did.”

The demon-lord grinned, showing pointed teeth. “I have to admit, I’ve never had anyone annoy me as thoroughly as you did today. That sound attack of yours made my teeth hurt, even at the very center of the city. I think you’ve earned some very special treatment from me today.”

Will responded with a force-lance, which Madrok blocked with ease. “In a hurry to die?” asked the demon-lord. “Annoying me further won’t speed things up. I’m going to torture you for centuries.”

This time, Will answered with a volley of five light-darts, counting on the fact that Madrok could only block one of them, but the demon didn’t bother. All five of the missiles fizzled into sparks just inches from his skin.

The demon-lord smiled. “When Leykachak died I attributed it to a substantial confluence of enemies coming together, but I can see now that you were more than just a hapless bystander. You’re still young, but there hasn’t been one like you in quite some time.”

Will tried a combination of force-lances and light-darts, with no better luck. Madrok blocked the force attacks and ignored the rest, which fell apart within inches of his skin every time.

“That won’t work,” said Madrok, then his eyes roamed to either side. “Where’s the cat? Were you foolish enough to think you could win on your own?” When Will didn’t answer, the demon looked to his rear. Selene had disembarked from Gan’s basket and moved back another fifty yards while the young troll returned to help his companions encircle their enemy. Madrok looked back at Will. “She can’t get far enough away. You realize that, don’t you? Even if she ran for a month, I would still find her—just so I could torture the two of you together.”

Will summoned his rapier, then cast the silver-sword spell upon it without considering the fact that he didn’t have the spell prepared. Stress seemed to be a good catalyst for growth. He hoped he would live long enough to profit from the lesson. Moving forward, he began threatening Madrok with the weapon while simultaneously sending a series of force-lances at the demon-lord from point-blank range. “You should have worn armor, Madrok,” he warned. “Even Leykachak wasn’t that stupid.” Lrmeg and a second troll were closing on the demon from the rear.

Madrok blocked each force-lance while summoning a thin black sword with which he stopped Will’s slashes. Still seeming relaxed, the demon answered, “My brother was a fool, and unlike him, I don’t need armor.” As he turned in mid-sentence, his sword cut completely through Lrmeg’s torso and then removed the second troll’s right arm. “I appreciate your concern, though. It’s very sweet of you.”

Will increased his speed as much as possible, and the trolls went berserk, rushing at the demon-lord from every angle. In the