Adept (The Essence Gate War, Book 1) - By Michael Arnquist Page 0,96

the Sil’ath into the abyss that Amric made to abort the attempt for fear of sacrificing the man on a doomed cause. The Half-Ork was already lost in his efforts, however, and would not abandon the task. Through it all, the power flooding through Amric somehow kept the other two men infused with energy as well. It held them on the precipice while Halthak put forth a feverish, herculean effort. At last the healer’s bolstered magic won out, snatching them both back from death’s covetous grasp, and they collapsed into well-deserved oblivion.

After hours of slumber, Halthak had awakened to confirm that Valkarr was out of immediate danger, though he was quick to caution that a week or more of rest would be needed for full recuperation. Their provisions were running low, however, as the bulk of them had been left outside with the horses. Furthermore, by unspoken agreement, each of the men wished to put Stronghold behind him as soon as possible. So it was that when everyone was recovered enough to stand, they began the tense, cautious trek through the deserted fortress, aided by their sense of direction and Syth’s fading memory of Grelthus’s maps.

Last to appear at the mouth of the corridor was Bellimar, materializing from the shadows. He paused at the top of the stairs and turned a bold stare upon Amric, as if daring the unasked questions to fall from his lips. The swordsman met his gaze and said nothing. The time for that conversation would come soon enough.

In a welcome stroke of fortune, their horses were still in the squat stable building, unscathed if also very skittish. As he approached and soothed them, Amric wondered how much of the carnage within the fortress had drifted far enough to reach their keen senses out here.

The party left the courtyard and crossed the arcing metallic bridge on foot, with Amric leading the horses. After many hours traversing the tortuous corridors of Stronghold, Valkarr and Halthak were too tired to sit their saddles over such a precarious drop, and the nervous equines were on the verge of spooking as it was. Once they reached the tree-studded bluff at the other end of the bridge, they hobbled the horses and allowed them to graze. They set up camp for the night there, nestled back beneath a scruffy copse of trees. Partially screened from view by the trees, they built a fire and gathered around it to eat and rest in silence for a time. Halthak and Valkarr lapsed into sleep before even finishing their meals, leaving the other three wrapped in their own thoughts.

Amric gazed across the valley at the fortress, a towering black silhouette cleaving the night sky. He looked forward to being much further from that place of death, but there was nothing for it tonight. The high trail along the cliffs was too treacherous to navigate in the darkness. Perhaps by morning Halthak and Valkarr would be rested enough to attempt it, and if not, they would remain here on the bluff until they were ready. At least there were only two approaches to this location, and both were narrow and difficult to traverse with any measure of stealth.

“What next, Amric?” Bellimar asked, his voice pitched low so as not to wake the sleepers.

The swordsman turned away from Stronghold to find the eyes of both men upon him.

“Back to Keldrin’s Landing, for now,” he said. “Halthak and Valkarr need a place to rest that is warm, dry and safe.”

The old man chuckled. “It is difficult to say just how safe the city will prove for us. Morland may not be satisfied with the news we bring back.”

“Morland?” Syth asked, sitting forward. “The merchant?”

“The same,” Amric said. “He had some contact with my missing friends, and pointed us in this direction in exchange for our efforts in locating Grelthus. Evidently the two are––were in business of some kind together.”

The thief slouched back, a look of distaste twisting his features. “I know that full well. It was Morland who paid me to come here in the first place, to steal back some baubles of his from Grelthus. According to Morland, they had a falling out of some sort, and the Wyrgen then refused to return various items that belonged to the merchant by rights.”

“And you took him at his word?” Amric said, lifting an eyebrow.

“Not for a moment,” Syth admitted. “But I believed in the color and quantity of his coin. For the king’s ransom he offered me