‘Impressive,’ said Martuch to Magnus. ‘I must remember not to annoy your father.’
‘Good decision,’ said the younger magician, a little surprised at the Dasati’s dry humour in this situation. Of course, compared to the other Dasati they had encountered, Martuch was almost human in his outlook. But Magnus was equally surprised at his father’s outburst, and realized that Pug must have been concealing a profound amount of anxiety since they arrived in this realm. And since he knew that Pug never worried about himself, he must be anxious about Magnus, Nakor, and even that very strange young man, Ralan Bek.
Magnus knew there were things going on that his father had not confided in him, and that Nakor and Bek were playing some role that he could not anticipate, but he had come to trust his father implicitly over the years. A prodigious talent even as a child, Magnus had always been given the opportunity to master his craft at his own pace, challenged, but never overburdened, and that training, despite his mother’s often impressive lack of patience, had given him a graceful approach to a very difficult practice. Magnus knew some day he might surpass his parents in ability, but that was still decades away, and right now there was a very real question if he would live minutes, let alone decades.
Pug turned a corner leading into a vast gallery, in which a company of Talnoy guards lounged, apparently a reserve squad detailed to go wherever they were needed at a moment’s notice, for the chamber had a dozen large passages leading out of it like spokes. A few had their helms off, chatting while they waited, and once again Pug realized how much of their advantage came from the illusion these armoured figures were the Talnoy of myth, the nearly impossible killing machines feared by all.
Pug didn’t hesitate. He raised one hand above his head, and a massive display of blue energy – a huge pale globe in which lightning danced – appeared above that hand. He hurled the globe into the midst of the Talnoy Deathknights. Sparks of energy shot out first one way, then another, dancing from target to target, stunning each warrior they touched and throwing them into a momentary seizure. Some fell over twitching while others stood upright as if locked in paralysis: folly a third of those in the company were incapacitated by Pug’s spell.
Valko and his men charged.
Taken by surprise, the two hundred Talnoy were unable to respond in any organized fashion. More than half the Talnoy were executed as they lay twitching on the floor or while attempting to rise, and those who had managed to put up some resistance were quickly overcome. Two or three warriors of the White assaulted each Talnoy still standing and suddenly it was over. Pug did a quick inventory and saw two of Valko’s Deathknights were dead and dozens had minor wounds, while the Talnoy lay dead to the last man.
Pug looked from tunnel to tunnel, wondering which way to move, and examined the markings above each entrance. In Dasati fashion, energy glyphs designating the tunnel’s use were inscribed within the stone, visible only to Dasati eyes, their equivalent to a road sign with destinations on it. Pug quickly scanned each and then he saw it, an energy glyph much larger than the others. It must be the mark of the TeKarana.
As if hearing Pug’s unanswered question, Valko pointed to that very glyph and said, ‘That way.’
Pug looked down the long tunnel. They were one long dash from the TeKarana’s apartment. He said, ‘Magnus should come up between us, for we haven’t seen a Deathpriest yet, and when we do, we may see quite a few of them.’
Valko said, ‘Your magic is impressive, human. If it can be used in a more selective fashion, that would be useful; it may be some of them are agents for the White. We have a few placed high within the palace, and they might have contrived a plausible reason to not be involved in the murder at the Black Temple. I trust some of them are still here in the palace, for as soon as we attack, they will join us.’
‘One can only hope,’ Pug whispered. ‘Still, we’ll assume none of them are until we know otherwise.’ He motioned for his son to move ahead of Valko. ‘Keep me in sight but fall back to protect Lord Valko if you see the need.’
Magnus said nothing as his father hurried ahead. He waited for a moment, then set out after him.
Nakor waited, listening, and then he heard it. ‘Come along, Bek. We are going to go find you a fight.’
‘Good, Nakor. I was very tired of standing still,’ said the large young man.
They hurried along, half-running, half-trotting, towards the sound of battle.
‘When we get there,’ said Nakor. ‘Can you kill all those wearing armour like yours and leave the others alone, please?’
‘Yes, Nakor.’
‘Oh, and you might want to take your helmet off so that Pug and the others know who you are.’
‘Yes, Nakor,’ said Bek, immediately taking off his helm and casting it aside.
As they neared the sounds of fighting, Nakor said, ‘Remember what I said?’