for Cetarn to follow Doranei. ‘I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.’
At Cetarn’s direction they ascended the tower as fast as they could. He could sense Aracnan somewhere near the top of a building that had twelve floors in four distinct steps, connected by a confusing network of stairways. Doranei’d worked out from his hard-gathered intelligence that the duchess had private chambers near the top, just before the tower narrowed.
Following Cetarn’s directions, he estimated Aracnan was a few floors below that. They could tell nothing more, but Cetarn warned him that the immortal was surrounded by a wild, unfocused corona of magic.
‘It’s a good sign,’ Cetarn continued, seeing Shim’s face pale. ‘It means he cannot concentrate properly, that he will be sloppy, and will act without thinking.’
‘Seadiamond venom’ll do that to a man,’ Doranei said, his face darkening as Sebe intruded on his thoughts. ‘Also means he’ll not use all his power if he can help it — the more he uses the more it’ll burn.’
‘Still hope we find the Mad Axe ’fore Aracnan,’ Shim muttered in the gravely voice of a man who smoked a lot and spoke little.
Doranei didn’t have to agree with that. They all knew Aracnan would outmatch any single member of their company, and the fact that Doranei couldn’t smell rotting flesh any more made him fear for Telasin. They moved from floor to floor as fast as they could, the only opposition a pair of scared-looking guards running headlong towards them. Doranei killed one and knock the other off-balance for Shim to finish. The mage-killer was as quick as the rat the mercenaries called him.
‘He’s on the floor above us,’ Cetarn said in a low voice after a while.
‘Right, here’s how we go,’ Doranei said. He turned around to look both Shim and Cetarn in the face; the mage was careful to keep Doranei between them. ‘Shim, you first, when you see him, you break left. I’ll be going right, and Cetarn, you hit him with everything you’ve got. Your object is to keep him distracted. With luck he’ll still be deciding between you two when I reach him.’
Not giving them time to argue, Doranei shoved Shim ahead and on up the last flight of stairs, bodily pushing him towards the door Cetarn indicated. The mage was silent now, and pale, and a silver-encased shard of crystal glowed white in his hands as he prepared to fight a vastly more powerful and experienced mage.
Doranei kicked the door open and charged through, the pommel of his sword in the small of Shim’s back. The room was pitch-black and Shim yelped in fear as he stumbled blindly forward, then howled as two flashes of light illuminated the room. Doranei let him run and stepped right, dropping after a few steps into a forward roll across the rug-strewn floor. The lightning came again, deafening cracks of raw power lashing at Shim, who kept wailing even as he was thrown against the wall.
Cetarn replied and struck with a shimmering flood of light that hissed and crackled uselessly against a white shield Aracnan produced. Doranei caught his first glimpse of the immortal - he looked barrel-chested, until Doranei realised one arm was bound to his chest. Aracnan’s face was so emaciated it looked desiccated, and zigzags of red blisters spread up his exposed throat. As he attacked Doranei found his blows parried with ease, Aracnan’s sword spitting sparks each time metal caught it. With a contemptuous flick of the wrist Aracnan sheered through the haft of Doranei’s axe and kicked him square in the gut.
Doranei hit the bookcase behind hard enough to drive the wind from his lungs. For a moment all he could do was watch, gasping for breath, as Cetarn threw a spiralling coil of green magic that wrapped around Aracnan before melting into nothingness. Aracnan howled in pain as he struck back, his sword tracing arcs of light that raced forward to hit both Cetarn and Shim.
The mage-killer was unaffected, but Cetarn, defending himself desperately, fell in a way that told Doranei he was badly hurt. Aracnan himself reeled against a long table in the centre of the room as a gout of blood burst from his shoulder, but when Doranei forced himself to attack, the mercenary continued to turn his strokes with ease. He would have died there and then, had a roar not suddenly come from behind the Demi-God.
Aracnan rolled back over the corner of the table as an axe crashed down on the last