Adept (The Essence Gate War, Book 1) - By Michael Arnquist Page 0,122
had not survived so many years doing such dangerous work by being careless.
There were also, of course, the savage denizens of this world to consider. They should not pose too great a risk to one of his abilities, provided he employed reasonable cautions. As the Essence Gate in the ruins of Queln continued to operate, however, the magic of this world grew more and more unstable. The magical elements here, then, would swell in number and become increasingly maddened. They would do a marvelous job of keeping the more civilized occupants busy, but at the same time they would also make it more challenging for him to travel unmolested. All the more reason to complete this unpleasant business and be gone before it all began to crumble. This ripe world would descend into madness on its path to becoming a lifeless, desiccated husk, and he did not care to be present to witness any of it first-hand.
He considered for a moment whether he would prefer to remain here as the end approached or return empty-handed again, and the sting of a chill sweat broke out on his brow. It must not come to that.
The black-robed man climbed broad steps and stepped onto the sweeping terrace level that girded the imposing front of the fortress. He knelt there, placing one splayed hand upon the stone beneath his feet. The pain of this place ran very deep, like black rot devouring the heart of a great tree all the way down to its roots. It went down well into the earth. Those fingers of corruption had found fire there in the very veins of the world, and even that cleansing flame had not been sufficient to scour this place of its disease. He was always mesmerized at the ways in which primal essence could twist the weakness of flesh and structure both, seizing that which was thought buried and bringing it unwilling to the fore, quickening it in impossible, exquisite agony.
He found the signature of the one he sought, of course, a blazing brand smoking against a still quivering hide. From there, however, the signs tapered off again, albeit slowly, as if that other had been almost reluctant to resume masking himself.
The man rose to his feet once more. If he could trace his quarry’s steps, he might well be able to discern a faint auric trail, and then it was but a matter of time. Few enough could mask this much power effectively, and fewer still could hide thus from a trained tracker such as he. Yes, it would be but a matter of time, now.
He strode toward the immense marble arch that marked the imposing front entrance to Stronghold. The metal doors cast back dull gleams from within the shadows of the archway, as if the fortress itself bared its teeth at his presence. He began to draw in power, a predator’s grin stretching tight across his face. It was time to give a polite knock.
Amric pushed away the empty plate and drained the last of the mug of ale. Beside him, Valkarr tore into a third heaping plate of food with feverish abandon, shoveling each new bite between wedge-shaped jaws as if his meal would evaporate before him at any moment. Amric smiled, feeling a wash of relief. It was the most enthusiasm his old friend had shown since he had nearly perished in Stronghold, and though his hands still shook slightly with each rapid movement, it was still a good sign that his recovery was gaining momentum. And he had to admit, whatever else one might say about the Sleeping Boar inn and its gruff owner, the Duergar Olekk, it served food of surpassing quality.
He glanced around to the others at the table, and burst out laughing. Halthak, Syth and Thalya, having finished their own meals, were staring at the ravenous Sil’ath warrior with wide eyes, and their expressions ranged from incredulous to appalled. The healer had been explicit that Valkarr’s body would require a great deal of extra rest and nourishment to replenish the enormous amount of energy taken from it by such an intense healing. Although Amric had long ceased to marvel at the ability of the Sil’ath to gorge themselves and then go without sustenance for much longer than a human could, he sometimes forgot that not everyone had grown up with it.
His laughter elicited a gimlet-eyed glower from the Traug, but at least the hulking creature managed not to growl at him as when