Scholar of Magic (Art of the Adept #3) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,54

the nobility, but Father gives them up to as many as four elementals, depending on their service. Unlike most, he makes certain they are trained for combat, physical and magical.”

“In your opinion, could they kill or capture one of the fae?”

Selene looked thoughtful. “If they were prepared for the task, there’s little they couldn’t accomplish.”

“You’re all ignoring the creature that appeared in the middle of it all,” said Will. “It was after Laina. It seems obvious that she hired Darla to protect her from whatever it was. The king was probably hunting it too.”

Selene straightened. “Then he should have warned the baron.”

“Maybe he did,” agreed Will. “Maybe that’s why she had an Arkeshi for a guard, or maybe he decided to use her as bait without telling her.” He thought about it for a moment. “No, that doesn’t make sense, either. If he warned her then why would he have been angry about Darla?”

“The sick bastard probably just wanted a reason to torture you,” offered Arrogan.

“You might be right about that,” said Will. “But he had to confirm Darla’s identity, so I’m sure he didn’t know for certain who she was.”

After a few more minutes of rehashing what little they knew, Aislinn made a suggestion. “I’d like to speak to the ring alone, William. Will you give your consent?”

“Why?”

“You and Selene are too inexperienced to provide much more input here. It will go faster if he and I speak directly. At the same time, some of the subjects we will cover are too far beyond your experience and would create questions and distractions you cannot afford at this time.”

Shut up, the adults want to talk, he thought to himself. A glance in Selene’s direction confirmed that she was equally annoyed by the idea. “I don’t mind, but—”

As soon as he had agreed, a source-link shot out from Aislinn and connected to both him and Selene. Over the past year he had come to take for granted the fact that no one he encountered had the strength and discipline to do what Arrogan had done to him routinely while he was apprenticed. His grandmother disabused him of the notion that he might be able to resist her with blinding speed. The connection was made, and his body put into a soft paralysis, in almost the same instant.

He thought of it as a ‘soft’ paralysis because his body first went weak, allowing him to sink to the floor before he completely lost all voluntary movement. From the corner of his eye he could see Selene sagging to the floor as well, but then his senses vanished and he was left deaf, blind, and dumb. Or as Grandfather would say, deaf and blind were added to my usual qualities, he thought dryly.

His limnthal had to remain active for the ring to speak, but Will was no longer able to connect to his turyn, so he had no idea if that was the case. He was sealed in a black void and simply had to trust that his grandmother knew what she was doing.

Considering her hostile attitude when she arrived, he didn’t feel inclined to trust her, and shivers of fear began to disturb the tiny void his consciousness was trapped within. It grew stronger, and after an unknown eternity he wanted to scream, but of course he couldn’t. In desperation, he tried to escape in the only way he knew how. Inverting his instincts, he focused and tried to pull himself out, imagining Aislinn in the room just a few feet away.

He had failed the last time he tried, but sensory deprivation—or perhaps it was the fear—gave him the extra push he needed. With an odd popping sensation, his perspective left the senseless void, and he found himself floating in the air just behind Aislinn. She was holding his hand in hers, the limnthal glowing above it.

“You know what that thing must be,” she said.

“They’re supposed to be gone, but you’re probably right,” answered Arrogan’s disembodied voice. “Either a few escaped or Grim Talek recreated them.”

“We should have destroyed the lich when we had the chance,” she responded, anger tainting her voice. “But you—”