Adept (The Essence Gate War, Book 1) - By Michael Arnquist Page 0,208
and the slender figure that knelt at her side could almost be mistaken for the silver-haired old man he had been. The bones in his face jutted a bit too sharply, however, and the fever-bright flames of hunger in his eyes were unmistakable. There was a tremble to his movements as he took her hand, and Amric could see that he was at the frayed edge of his control as he leaned down close to her.
Her drooping eyelids flared open at his touch, and her green eyes sought his face. They stared at each other in silence, and then her blood-flecked lips moved. “Do not prove me wrong, Bellimar.”
A few droplets of blood sprayed to his cheek at her words, and Bellimar flinched as if burned. The huntress held his gaze for a moment longer, and then her labored breath left her in a long sigh. Her hand went limp in his grasp, and she was gone. Syth uttered a moan of anguish, but Bellimar remained poised over her, motionless, his eyes searching her still features. He extended his other hand and closed her staring eyes. He started to withdraw his hand, hesitated, and then drew one slender finger along her cheek and gently tweaked her chin.
“Release her, monster,” Syth grated, his voice quavering. “I will not have her defiled by your foul touch. She would never consent to become a black fiend like you.”
Bellimar did not glance at him, but he laid her hand upon the stone and stood back. Shadow gathered to him once more like ebon sands flowing into an abyss. “Calm yourself, thief,” he said. “Even if I wished it, she is beyond my influence now.”
Syth growled something at him and knelt again by Thalya’s side.
“Wilding.”
Amric turned at the single word, spoken with iron determination. He faced the old man, who had fixed upon him with an unwavering gaze.
“Come,” Bellimar said. “We have much to do, you and I, and precious little time left to do it.”
“What is your plan?” the warrior asked.
“To do the impossible.” Bellimar’s eyes were like windows into a blazing forge as he shifted them to the fallen huntress. “And to fulfill her last request.”
CHAPTER 26
“Are you out of your mind?” Syth demanded.
Amric did not reply. He wanted to smile at the irony of the man’s words, but he thought it would merely agitate him further, so he refrained. He sat cross-legged on the ground, hands resting upon his knees. The dawn was still hours away, but the gibbous moon found its way at last through the thinning cloud cover to spill light down upon them. It gave the wasteland a bleak, otherworldly cast, and left Amric feeling like a wayward ghost intruding upon a world in which he was no longer welcome.
Caught between worlds, he mused, as ever.
Valkarr and Sariel stood at Amric’s shoulders, flanking him. They appeared relaxed, but he knew better. There was a tension to their stances that was only obvious to one who knew them well. Taut as bowstrings, he thought with a sad smile as he thought of Thalya. So many lost already. Of the warriors he and Valkarr had set out to find, only Sariel now remained. And countless more would perish if this did not work. Some distance behind him, the grating sound of rock against rock informed him that Halthak was still fretting at the crude cairn they had built, as far to one end of the crag as had been possible. It had taken precious time to dig even a shallow grave for the bodies and cover them with rocks, and to rake sand over the spilt blood as well, but it had seemed a judicious precaution.
Amric’s jaw clenched. He was about to put his life and his sanity in the hands of a creature consumed with demonic hunger. The less temptation at hand, the better.
Directly opposite him, perched upon the outermost rim of rock, was Bellimar. Whether he sat as Amric did, or crouched like some great black bird of prey, the swordsman could not say. A pallid face, a leering nightmare apparition, hovered amid the enveloping shadows at a height that could have been either. Red eyes remained fixed upon the warrior in an expectant stare.
Syth stepped in front of Amric, breaking his line of sight. The troubled winds swirling around the man sent cool night air washing over him. “This is a terrible plan,” Syth insisted.
“And yet, we have no other,” Amric returned quietly.