Bound By Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #8)(84)

Rafael clicked his tongue in resigned disappointment. “You are always in such a hurry to run, Tearloch.”

“Being intelligent enough to realize when I’m outnumbered has kept me alive,” Tearloch pointed out, his hands clenching at the sneer curving the wizard’s lips. “Obviously it’s a lesson you failed to learn.”

The red flames flared in the spirit’s eyes, the stench of the grave filling the cavern.

“Our master has no place at his side for cowards.”

Tearloch pointed toward the images reflected in the water. “You truly think you can defeat a half-dozen vampires?”

“We will be invincible once we have resurrected the Dark Lord.”

It was a promise that had been whispering in the back of Tearloch’s mind since leaving Avalon. Now, however, the seductive promise was more than a little tarnished.

“Then why didn’t you perform the ceremony when you had the chance?” he accused the worthless wizard. “Now it’s too late.”

“It’s never too late.”

“No? Your precious altar is buried deeper than ever thanks to Ariyal.”

Rafael’s gaunt face tightened with remembered fury. “Yes, he will pay for that, but for now we shall have to create a new altar.”

Tearloch scowled at the smooth words. A new altar? After they’d wasted days trying to unblock the destroyed tunnels?

“If that was one of our options then why the hell did you waste our time trying to dig out the old one?”

“Because I assumed you would disapprove of my methods.”

“Why would I disapprove?”

Rafael waved a bony hand. “You seem to be rather attached to your tribesmen.”

Was that supposed to be a joke?

“What do my tribesmen have to do with your altar?”

“You are not stupid, Tearloch.” Without warning the spirit moved to stand next to the child, who was cradled on a flat rock in the center of the cavern. The dark robes flowed around his skeletal frame as he bent down to study the babe, who remained locked in a deep sleep. “The Dark Lord demands a sacrifice. The altar must flow with blood.”

Shock blasted through Tearloch at the unemotional pronouncement that he would have to watch his brothers being slaughtered like helpless lambs.

But why?

He’d known from the moment he’d conjured Rafael that he was an immoral bastard who would willingly destroy the world to sate his lust for power.

What was a little thing like murdering an entire tribe?

The knotted muscle of his jaw made it almost impossible to speak.

“ No.”

“Yes.” Rafael stabbed him with a ruthless glare. “There is no other means.”

“You treacherous snake.” Tearloch instinctively backed away, having a dim recollection of Ariyal’s warnings. Why hadn’t he listened to his prince instead of allowing himself to be swayed by the voices that filled his mind with confusion? “This has been your plan all along, hasn’t it?”

The wizard straightened, his hand toying with the pendant around his neck.

“Plan?”

Tearloch bumped into the far wall, his stomach cramping with horror.

“Gods, I’ve been so blind. You deliberately lured me and my brothers to these caves.”

“Do not be an idiot,” Rafael snapped.

“You’re right to fear the wizard,” a voice assured him and Tearloch turned to watch as Sergei stepped into the cavern looking considerably worse for the wear with his silver hair tangled and his once-exquisite suit torn and filthy. But there was an arrogant confidence on his slender face as he moved to stand at Tearloch’s side. “I did warn you, if you will recall.”

“Mage.” Rafael made the word sound like a curse. “I should have known you would turn up like the proverbial bad penny.”

Sergei never allowed his attention to waver from Tearloch, a frantic gleam in his pale eyes.

“Listen to me, Sylvermyst. The spirit can’t be trusted.”

“And I suppose you are prepared to swear that your motives are purely honorable?” Rafael mocked.

The mage shrugged, still keeping his attention locked on Tearloch.

“I’ve never hidden my ambitions, but my plans to resurrect the master have never included slaughtering my allies.”

There was a low hiss from the wizard, his power swirling through the air and seeping through Tearloch’s mind, trying to confuse him with that terrifying fog.

“That is because you do not possess the skills or the power needed for the ceremony,” Rafael said in a low, singsong voice that sought to entrap the listener. “You may be capable of bluffing the gullible, but I am not so easily fooled. Nor is Tearloch.”

Sergei grasped Tearloch’s arm, sending a prickle of magic over his skin, no doubt in an attempt to counter Rafael’s spell.

“You know nothing, wizard.” Sergei’s fingers dug into Tearloch’s arm. “My powers are greater than you could ever imagine.”

Rafael’s derisive laughter bounced off the smooth walls. “No, you are the one who must imagine them because they do not exist except in your fantasies.”

The mage whirled toward the taunting wizard, his face red with fury.

“Shall I prove how wrong you are?”