Disciple of War Disciple of War (Art of the Adept #4) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,228

three times. He felt the connection strongly, for she was still close by, with his army. She returned, with the trolls, a few minutes later.

“Tailtiu, take your mother home for me.”

She gave him a rebellious look. “I don’t want to.”

Aislinn sneered. “Fool. Her debts don’t bind her any longer. You must do it yourself.”

Will eyed Tailtiu, then said, “By the debts you owe me, take her safely home.”

His aunt looked from him to her mother, then back again. After thinking for a moment, she answered, “Yes, Master.” She held out her arms for Will to hand Aislinn to her.

Will had decided he needed the trolls, though. “I want you to transform and take her yourself.”

Tailtiu frowned. “My power is almost gone—unless you will permit me to share in yours.” Her lips pouted almost imperceptibly.

You’d like that, wouldn’t you? he thought. He held out his hand instead. Seeming disappointed, Tailtiu took it, but when she began to draw on his turyn, he matched his frequency to hers so that her body could easily assimilate it.

“Oh!” she gasped, her eyes lighting up. She continued to draw from him for several minutes, and Will began to think she might be a bottomless well. Eventually, he pulled his hand back.

“That should be enough.”

Tailtiu stared at him with hungry eyes. “Never.” Before he could argue though, she transformed into a massive doe and knelt so Aislinn could mount.

Will breathed a sigh of relief when they were finally gone. Then he stared at Myrsta, where he could see void turyn continuing to spill out of the city. Gan looked at him questioningly, then asked, “More kill?”

“More kill,” he affirmed.

Chapter 62

The first hundred yards into Myrsta were uneventful. The broken wall opened up to a street crowded with buildings and shops—all empty. It ran parallel to the city wall, so they had to turn and follow it until they found a cross street that led toward the center of the city, and it was then that Will’s misadventure began.

A group of demons stood around the corner, and Gan and the other trolls wasted no time leaping forward to attack them. While Gan had been fairly careful while he carried other passengers, for some reason he thought Will was different. Rather than holding back, he surged forward to attack with the other trolls.

Will was pressed down by the force of his sudden charge, but a moment later, when Gan came to a sudden stop, he shot up and out of the basket to sail over the heads of the demons. One red-skinned brute looked up in curiosity as he flew by, until Gan forcibly regained the creature’s attention by ripping its throat out.

It was probably for the best that none of his human allies had been able to accompany them, because Will’s landing wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted to be immortalized in story or song. In fact, if it hadn’t been for his helmet, the adventure might have become more of a tragedy than comedy. He struck the corner of the nearest building, confirming that it was indeed built of stone, then slid awkwardly to the ground, bruising himself even further.

He didn’t lose consciousness, but he was too stunned to assist while the trolls clawed, ripped, and bashed the hapless demons into their graves. Reinforcements soon arrived, and the battle expanded. Will was still trying to get his eyes to focus, and things seemed much worse than they were, until the figures fighting in his vision condensed into just half the number he had seen moments before.

The ferocity of the trolls was such that he decided to take his time. “Don’t mind me,” he mumbled. “I’ll just sit over here and try to pull myself together.”

The next demons to show up came in small groups, which merely excited the trolls. Lrmeg in particular seemed to enjoy lifting the smaller demons and using them as missile weapons against the larger ones. With absolutely no concern for their own safety, the trolls moved outward, forming an ever-larger circle.

They didn’t try to keep the circle unbroken, they just spread out, allowing the demons to pass around them as they punished and sometimes ate pieces of the ones they caught with their long arms. The trolls simply had no fear and no need to engage in defensive tactics. Whether their numbers were two or twelve seemed to make no difference. Will could easily imagine just one of them happily fighting until the city had been completely depopulated of demons.

Physically, the