‘My best guess,’ said Sandreena, ‘is they built it as a temporary defence, in case someone stumbled onto what they were doing and tried to stop it. I see no water source, no decent supply route, and no barracks for a garrison. It’s as if they are planning to abandon this place once they’ve accomplished whatever it is they are doing here.’
‘My thoughts as well,’ said Kaspar. He turned and motioned for Magnus to come close. Still whispering, he said, ‘Do you have any sense of what this place is for?’
Magnus’s expression was grave. ‘There is some very dark magic occurring within those walls. It’s…muted, waiting for something to be unleashed, but it’s there.’
Suddenly, a fine silver net appeared out the darkness and landed upon the white-haired magician. Magnus stiffened, then his eyes rolled up into his head, as if he had been struck from behind. Kaspar and Sandreena crouched low and drew weapons as figures rose out the soil of the plateau before them. Sandreena turned towards Laromendis and Jim Dasher, but couldn’t see them, so she raised her mace as Kaspar drew his sword, and a pair of finely woven nets descended upon them.
Sandreena felt a shock course through her body and her mind become a tumbling cascade of thoughts and images. Part of her knew she was under attack, but years of training, both martial and magic, wilted under the effect of that silver net. Her defensive spells refused to coalesce in her thoughts; moves as basic as raising her shield or hefting her mace, ingrained in her body’s memory as much as her mind, became jerking attempts to control herself.
Kaspar was likewise overcome; he spasmed and twisted as he sought to command his body to meet the coming attack. But like Sandreena and Magnus, he quickly fell to the ground.
Looking up, they could see three figures covered from head to toe in suits of fine cloth, with only the smallest slits for eyes. The cloth was the same colour as the earth that had hidden them, and they must have been lying in ambush for quite some time, perhaps hours, waiting for the intruders to get close enough to render them powerless.
Another figure appeared a moment later, a grinning bearded man who looked down at the three prone bodies and said, ‘Bring them!’
As he turned away, Sandreena managed to whisper, ‘Belasco!’ She didn’t know if Magnus or Kaspar could hear her.
Pain coursed through her body when she tried to move, but if she remained motionless, the pain faded. Her thoughts were still chaotic but she witnessed enough and remembered enough to have a sense of time passing as they were lifted and carried towards a small rear gate in the wall.
Then her thoughts fled and darkness arrived.
Jim crouched motionless behind the smallest of rocks, his cloak pulled over him. He expected to be discovered any moment, but he had an instinct for when to flee and when to remain still. Right now his ‘bump of trouble’ was telling him to get as close to the ground as humanly possible. He could hear muffled voices and sensed some movement ten yards ahead.
He had felt rather than seen the ambush, and his first reaction had been to leap backwards, away from the fight. It was not cowardice but caution that motivated him; he wanted to be sure no one was coming at them from behind. Those three steps backwards, as their attackers had jumped down the side of the dry riverbank, saved him from detection. Something had happened to Laromendis, but he couldn’t be certain. One moment the elven magic user had been there, the next he wasn’t.
Jim had his dagger ready, but kept still. He waited until he could hear no sound, then risked a peak from under his cloak.
The river bed was empty.
He had heard the brief struggle and knew they were overmatched the instant Magnus went down without a sound. Whoever waited for them had expected a powerful magician; he assumed the same magic trap prevented Sandreena from using her abilities, and the nets had quickly rendered both her and Kaspar unconscious.
Pug and Kaspar had been clear in their instructions to him; he was the last link to the outside world if all else failed. Given the level of power and talent in this reconnaissance team, he considered himself a desperate choice.
He crouched low, not willing to risk moving just yet. Where was that elf?
Then suddenly the elf was standing before him. He turned, looked down at Jim and whispered, ‘They’re gone.’
Jim stood up and Laromendis reached out to touch his cloak. ‘That is impressive.’
‘I’m good,’ whispered the noble-turned-thief, ‘but I’m not that good. This didn’t come cheaply. The artificer who wove it for me called it his “cloak of blending”, and I suspect it uses magic similar to your own.’ He looked around for any sign of lingering danger. ‘What just happened?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ whispered the elf. ‘They waited for us; they knew we had magic users with us, and they were ready.’
‘They knew we were coming.’
‘Apparently. What troubles me is how the ambush was executed.’
Jim’s brow furrowed. ‘Explain.’