Adept (The Essence Gate War, Book 1) - By Michael Arnquist Page 0,72
the tension eased from the bristling form, before asking his next question, careful to frame it in a neutral manner. “Is this Essence Fount then responsible for the sudden spread of dark creatures in the region?”
The Wyrgen shook his head. “Nay, the Fount itself is but a sliver of the elevated currents coursing through the lands. It is an effect localized to Stronghold and possibly its grounds, but no further. But its underlying cause, the greatly increased Essence throughout the region, will continue to amplify many things and cause them to strengthen, to swell in numbers.”
Amric frowned, absorbing this. “With so much magic in the area, how does it not corrupt all life as it has done your people?”
“You have a sharp mind, warrior,” Grelthus said, regarding him with a hint of new respect. “You could do more than swing a blade. As I said, this is a localized reaction. Consider your body’s response to an invading infection, how the flesh swells and becomes an angry red in color, discharging unhealthy fluids and scabbing over. The body, a wondrous machine, focuses its defensive efforts on repelling the invader. In our zeal, our hubris, we provoked such a targeted response, and secured our own downfall.”
“You sought to study and harness the symptom, then, while the true source remains unknown.”
“Regrettably true,” Grelthus said. “Though I suspect the answer might lie further east, at the convergence of these major ley lines, if one could but forge a path there and somehow survive whatever forces have congregated.”
In silence they turned back to study the blazing fountain, each in the room alone with his own thoughts for a time. Amric’s mind raced over their options from this point. It seemed tantamount to suicide to continue further east, but if there was any evidence his Sil’ath friends had gone that way, he would follow. Since they did not appear to have made it even here, however, the logical course was to double back and resume the search. Even if the source of the spreading corruption was far to the east, they would need to join forces with their comrades against this hostile land. And if their friends had perished, there was the requisite matter of avenging their deaths; if necessary, he would attend to that matter before making any further decisions about how best to complete their mission.
Amric felt dizziness wash over him once more, and the roaring sound returned to batter at his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut to block out the sight. Why was the damned thing affecting him so? And why only him?
Grelthus uttered an angry growl, interrupting the warrior’s thoughts. The Wyrgen stalked over to the cage and halted several paces from the crackling blue energy bars, bowing his shaggy head before the prisoner.
“I regret the necessity to detain you, thief, but even more so I regret that distress and distraction have made of me a poor host. Pass your water pitcher through the bars, so that I may refill it for you.”
Syth folded his arms across his chest and shook his head, glaring at the Wyrgen. “You cannot part your jaws without lies spilling forth, you mangy cur. There is no food or water in this room, and if you depart this chamber alone you will surely betray your guests and imprison them down here, even as you have done to me.”
“Very well,” Grelthus sighed, spreading his hands and turning to Halthak. “Healer, would you do this mistrustful prisoner the kindness of refilling his water urn, from the barrel by the door in the chamber above? I will prepare his meal later, for that requires travel to another chamber and I would not ask it of you. While you are gone, I will remain here, guarded by your warrior friends.”
Halthak looked from the Wyrgen to Amric, and then to the prisoner. He took a step toward the cage, but Grelthus raised one clawed hand to forestall him.
“First kick the jug out of the cage, thief,” Grelthus snarled. “The thief moves like lightning, and is too cunning by half.”
Syth favored the Wyrgen with a dark scowl, but did as he was bid, toeing the water jug a safe distance from the bars. “What are you playing at, Grelthus?” he asked, brow furrowed. “Why this sudden show of concern for my welfare?”
The Wyrgen ignored him as Halthak retrieved the pitcher and started for the stairs. When the Half-Ork had passed out of view, Grelthus strode back to the glass wall.