Cursed Bones - By David A Wells Page 0,60

still a little stiff and the set of dragon-plate armor that Captain Sava had given him didn’t fit quite as well as his ruined armor, but it was far lighter and more durable. Sava had lost several of his Strikers during Zuhl’s attack, but their armor had survived unscathed.

Anatoly and Magda rode for the better part of the day, arriving at the location chosen for the exchange late in the afternoon. Zuhl and a hundred of his brutes were there waiting. Anatoly swallowed the sudden lump in his throat when he saw Abigail sitting atop the horse next to Zuhl. He clenched his jaw as he raised his hand, signaling the company of Rangers to halt.

He and Magda proceeded forward as Zuhl and Abigail trotted out from the protection of the men surrounding them, stopping ten feet away in the open space between both forces.

“Did he hurt you?” Anatoly asked.

“Just a few bruises but nothing that won’t heal,” she said.

“I’ve brought Lady Abigail, as promised,” Zuhl said. “I would see the book.”

Anatoly scowled as he withdrew the book from his satchel and held it up for the ancient mage.

Zuhl smiled ever so slightly. “May I?” he said, holding out his hand.

Anatoly rode forward cautiously, extending the book to Zuhl.

He took it and closed his eyes for a moment, muttering words in some long-dead language, and waited for some unseen response before smiling to himself.

“Excellent, our business is done,” he said, turning away from them and leaving Abigail in their care.

She sighed with relief.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, spurring her horse toward the Rangers.

Anatoly rode up next to Magda.

“Did that seem just a bit too easy to you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, nodding.

Once they were well away from Zuhl and his brutes, they stopped to make camp for the night.

Anatoly was brushing his horse when Alexander appeared beside him.

“That’s not Abigail,” he said quietly. “I’m not even sure if it’s human.”

“What do you mean?” Anatoly asked, his mood visibly darkening.

“Zuhl sent an imposter.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” Alexander said. “Her colors aren’t right and it looks like she’s under a powerful spell. But more to the point, I just looked in on Abigail in Whitehall. She’s still being held by Zuhl.”

“Then we gave him that book for nothing,” Anatoly said.

Alexander smiled, shaking his head. “Not for nothing. Have Magda help you take the imposter alive. We might gain some valuable information.”

Anatoly nodded, unslinging his war axe.

He approached the fire cautiously, catching Magda’s eye and showing her the blade of his axe. She tensed slightly at his unspoken warning, made an excuse and left the fire where the Abigail double and a number of Rangers sat sipping hot tea.

“Abigail’s an imposter,” he whispered. “We need to take her alive.”

She looked at him hard, searching his face for confirmation.

His unflinching gaze left no room for doubt.

She nodded before turning toward the campfire and beginning her spell.

Anatoly began to move quietly out of the way.

Magda released her spell, sending twin spheres streaking toward the imposter, one light blue, the other amber. The amber sphere hit first, striking a shell of magical energy surrounding the imposter and rebounding back at Magda. She tried to dodge her own spell but was struck on the shoulder. The amber light almost instantly encapsulated her, paralyzing her with her own magic and sending her toppling to the ground.

The blue sphere struck the imposter a fraction of a second later, spreading its light-blue magical energy across the surface of her body in an instant. A moment later the spell surrounding her broke, revealing a woman that didn’t look quite human. Her skin had an almost imperceptible blue tinge to it and her eyes were catlike, similar to those of a dragon.

She sprang to her feet, muttering the words of a spell and extending her arm toward three nearby Rangers who were caught totally off guard by the sudden turn of events. A spray of frost leapt from her hand, coating the surprised men with ice and stunning them into near paralysis.

Anatoly didn’t waste any time. He started rushing her the moment she stood, his axe raised high and ready. As she turned toward him, he brought the blade down, cleanly severing her forearm, her hand flopping to the ground. She screamed in pain as he continued into her, slamming his dragon-plate-armored shoulder into her chest and knocking her to the ground, stunned and wracked by the sudden pain of his assault.

Within seconds he had her bound and gagged.

“Check on Mistress

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