Adept (The Essence Gate War, Book 1) - By Michael Arnquist Page 0,134

travel,” Nyar said with an eager nod.

“Ho there!” bellowed a voice from further down the wall-walk. A heavyset guard strode toward them, slightly favoring a bandaged left leg, and a crossbow dangled from one hand at his side. “What are you two doing there? Citizens are not allowed upon the wall-walk.”

The Elvaren blinked at each other and broke into slow smirks.

“It addresses us, brother. It demands to know our purpose.”

“So it does. It would be rude not to respond, despite our hurry.”

“I had the same thought, my brother.”

Pushing themselves lazily from the wall, they spread out and began to stroll toward the guard on either side of the walkway.

The guard slowed and faltered, his brow clouding as his gaze darted between them. “Wait, what are you doing?” he stammered. “You cannot be up here.”

The assassins continued to advance at a leisurely pace, vulpine smiles splitting their features. Their pale faces and shocks of white hair seemed to float disconnected above their dark, leather-clad forms. The guard raised his crossbow, bracing it with his other hand and leveling it at first one and then the other. The Elvaren took no apparent notice of the weapon. The man searched their expressions and blanched. He began to take shuffling steps backward.

“You cannot be up here,” he repeated in an overloud voice. “Do not come any closer, or I’ll raise the alarm!”

Nyar slowed to a halt and put a slender finger to his lips, tapping them in thought. “It raises a worthy point, brother.”

“How do you mean?” asked Nylien, stopping as well and turning to face him.

“It occurs that if our conversation proceeds with this one, the aftermath may serve to draw additional unwanted attention to the southern wall and gate, today and tonight. And our lord would certainly not wish this.”

“Ah,” sighed Nylien. “As ever, brother, your adherence to duty does you credit. Of course you are correct.”

“Regrettably, the pleasures of conversing with this one will have to wait until we return,” Nyar agreed with a sigh of his own.

“If it still remains within the city,” Nylien said, raising one delicate eyebrow.

“It is the price of pursuing larger game, and doing our lord’s will. We will not be so constrained, when he rises to power.”

“But until then…”

“Yes, until then.”

The assassins turned to the guard once more. The man stood facing them, bewildered, the point of the loaded crossbow bolt wavering between the two figures. His finger tightened upon the trigger as the pair regarded him with all the detached interest one might show an intrusive, uncommon insect. Then, in unison, they spun on their heels and began to walk the other way with identical sauntering gaits. The guard let out a long breath and watched them go, tracking their progress until they disappeared into the stairwell leaving the wall-walk. They did not once look back.

Amric kicked free of the saddle and slid to the ground. He knelt there, brushing his fingertips over the parched earth and then digging in to withdraw a fistful of sand. It poured from his hand and was caught by the breeze, swirling away like a gossamer veil. He squinted back the way they had come. A mere twenty yards away the soil was dark, rich and moist, giving rise to the lush green sward that undulated away behind them.

“What do you make of this?” he asked.

“Something is leeching the life from the very land here,” Bellimar responded at once, nudging his steed closer. “There has long been a desolate region at the southern foot of the Hoarfang mountain range, but it was isolated, ringed in by crags and fertile plains.”

“It is the same, the spreading wasteland my father heard about,” Thalya said with quiet conviction. “It must be.”

Bellimar’s expression was grave. “If this extends all the way to the mountains, then its expansion has been rapid indeed,” he said. “Too rapid.”

Amric nodded and stood, brushing the sand from his palms. He turned and sighted along the ragged line where the vegetation gave grudging way to the advancing desert. Along that line, the grasses browned and grew thin, and the scattered copses of trees withered into weak, skeletal things. The transition was far too abrupt to be natural.

That the land was dying was plain to see. The questions that had to be answered now were how, and why.

“Could this be another way the disruption of Essence in the region manifests itself?” Halthak asked.

“I do not know, but I doubt it,” Amric said with a slow shake of his head.