Adept (The Essence Gate War, Book 1) - By Michael Arnquist Page 0,162

to the land’s peoples as well. Perhaps most troubling of all, the queen had been vehement in her accusations against the Adepts, insisting that they were no better than the Nar’ath. Who were these Adepts, then, and what were their designs on his world?

Amric shook his head. Now was not the time for such ruminations.

He rose into a low crouch and glided through the haze on noiseless feet, careful to skirt wide around the edge of a nearby pool, lest its light betray his location. The game of cat and mouse had moved past words, and had begun in earnest.

The Nar’ath forces passed through the southern gate of Keldrin’s Landing, and flowed into the city like a black river.

The invasion was eerily quiet at the outset. There were none of the exulting cries one might expect of an attacking force gaining entrance to their prize; none of the fierce, startling sounds made to frighten the defenders into fleeing or freezing for precious seconds. There was no clash of metal or clink of armor, no crackling flame or rumbling machines of war. There was not even the harsh, labored breathing of mortal men charging into the teeth of their enemy with their nerves keyed to the breaking point, incensed to the very precipice of a crimson frenzy. Instead, there were only the torrential, rapid-fire slaps of tens of thousands of bare black feet upon the cobblestones, and the whisper of tattered cloth fluttering behind sprinting forms.

The imposter guards had performed their task well. There was no one to bar the passage of the creatures or even to raise an alarm until the broad southern courtyard was filled to overflowing. The Nar’ath did not hesitate for an instant. Without visible communication, they divided their forces evenly and drove into the city’s streets and alleyways, infiltrating further and further, pumping like the blood of midnight into empty veins.

The silence could not last for long. Darkness was falling and, consciously or not, the city’s inhabitants had sought to distance themselves from the outer walls and whatever might be lurking beyond them. Most had moved indoors for the evening, wherever they had chosen to weather the coming night. The city was crowded, however, and the Nar’ath had come with a purpose. Dark forces continued to stream through the southern gate, and the creatures had penetrated deep into the city when contact was made at last.

Then, just as the scar-faced man had predicted, the screams began.

“My forces have moved upon the city, Adept,” the queen’s voice came sliding through the murk. “Even now they are within its walls, coursing through its streets, falling upon its inhabitants.”

Amric ground his teeth, but he knew better than to reply. She had proven capable of honing in upon the slightest sound he made, and each such mistake provoked a vicious, lightning-swift charge. She was too large and powerful for him to meet head-on thus; he needed to focus on stealth and guile over a direct confrontation, and continue to seek out a weakness. He just hoped something clever occurred to him soon, as he was playing a losing game.

He sidestepped a pile of rubble, careful to disturb nothing. Briefly he considered hurling a piece of it to one side in the hopes that it would draw her into another blind assault that might bring her within reach of his blades again, but he dismissed the idea. She had fallen for the trick once, but not again after that. He kept moving.

“The city will fall,” the queen continued after a moment, her sibilant tones echoing from a different direction this time. “Many lives will be lost, but many more will be salvaged and given new purpose. By the morning light, my minions will return with your pets, and I will make those who have lived my own. Does this disturb you, Adept? Does it fill you with impotent rage?”

Amric said nothing, picking his way carefully through the center of the room where the queen’s emergence had left a ravaged crater. A rumbling slither from across the chamber told him she was on the move again. A tall shape suddenly appeared out of the swirling sand, looming above him, and black tentacles shot toward him. One of the hulking minions the queen had dismissed earlier. He struck the grasping appendages aside, severing one to fall writhing to the ground at his feet. The Nar’ath minion bulled toward him, seeking to bring its powerful forelimbs to bear, but he darted under the sweep