Rasnake(19)

"But?" Tallant prodded.

"But," Milton said with a smile, "I did find one of the secret rooms, once. After that, I was certain the rest of the tunnels and rooms must exist. Still, I figured a passage in the tower must be too good to be true."

"I would say that, unfortunately, it's all too true," Tallant replied.

Milton grimaced. "Yes, and if that is true, it's a safe bet the secret passage leading out of the castle is true as well."

Tallant matched Milton's grimace. "Now that is unfortunate. Where is it supposed to be located?"

"The church," Milton replied. "So I guess we know what we're doing tomorrow night."

"Guess so," Tallant agreed. "For now, however, I am going back to sleep."

"Agreed," Milton said, pulling off his boots and casting them aside. He blew out the lantern they'd left burning in their room and rolled over in bed. A few minutes later, Tallant could hear his soft snores. Smiling faintly, he rolled over and went to sleep.





Chapter Seven





Tallant yawned, then finished his gruel and hot cider. Setting the empty mug down, he stood and smiled at Cecil. "Ready to go when you are." Cecil said nothing, merely pushed away from the wall against which he'd been leaning, the very image of impatience. He strode from the hall without a word. Tallant followed, not at all upset with his early morning view of Cecil's backside, encased in well-fitted leggings.

Around them, the castle was only just beginning to stir to life, as hazy morning light only just barely began to break up the dark sky. Horses were ready and waiting for them at the stable, and Tallant accepted the reins of his with a quietly murmured thanks. Swinging into the saddle, he followed Cecil across the drawbridge and into the forest.

By the time they reached the place where the ward anchors were located, there was enough light to see clearly. The magic of the wards crackled along his skin, compelling and frightening all at once. Magic was in his blood. Even if he had not followed a warrior path, he would have spent his life immersed in magic. His family had a long history of magic, as did his clan, but even for him, the wards were something else again.

They were a wall of magic that circled the greater portion of the continent, sealing the dragons off in the wild lands of the mountains and edges of the great forests. The walls were not strictly visible, though, not unless one was stupid enough to touch them. Only the anchors were visible—tall stone obelisks carved with old, powerful runes the likes of which even Tallant would not mess with.

The obelisks were set roughly two miles apart, traversing the continent, and until then they had held without problem. They had never needed special protection because they were powerful and strange enough to be their own protection.

This particular obelisk was not as it should be, though. Something dark and flaking was splashed across the base, marring the runes. Blood. Tallant knelt and rubbed his fingers in the mess to confirm, but he hardly needed to. "This blood is too fresh to have been here long," he said thoughtfully. He looked at the obelisk, reached out to feel the magic, wincing as the force of it struck him, made him dizzy.

It was only the left side that had collapsed. Whatever had broken the wards had only broken the miles between this obelisk and the next. So it was not as bad as it could have been—but it was bad enough. Cecil had said the wards were fraying, meaning with one part of it collapsed, the rest would eventually begin to collapse as well. So they had to fix this section, and quickly.

Never mind the dragons, and how many may have gotten past the castle—like the one which had attacked Tallant and Milton while they were still days away. All it took was one female getting too far into the country and hiding somewhere to lay her eggs.

Tallant pulled away from the magic, wincing slightly at the headache now pounding at his temples. Standing up, he wiped his hands on his pants and turned to Cecil. "Someone offered a blood sacrifice recently—very recently. Within the last day or so, I would say."

Cecil frowned. "A blood sacrifice? Someone is attempting to repair the ward? That would take the blood of a high mage, or at least someone with high mage potential. No such persons exist in this kingdom. I'm not even certain there's someone like that in the entire kingdom. Who in the hell would even try? No one has the skill for that, even if we had the correct sacrifice and I allowed it."

"You have the skill to learn," Tallant pointed out, "which means that someone else could learn if they so desired. Are you certain the duke is not behind it all somehow?"

Cecil shrugged irritably. "He would have the knowledge, certainly, but his mind is broken and he's locked up. Why do you and Milton keep harping on His Grace?"

"Only the dead are incapable of taking any action," Tallant recited. "Does anyone else come out here?"

"Just me and my men," Cecil replied. "Irene forbade anyone else a long time ago. So can you tell how the wards were broken?"

Tallant shook his head, but smirked. "Not quite yet, but be patient. I've always preferred slow and steady. The rewards for patience are far more gratifying." He looked Cecil slowly up and down, incapable of resisting an opportunity to fluster. "Though I admit hard and fast has its merits."

Cecil scowled at him, face flushing pink in the early morning light. He jerked away and put fingers to his lips, giving a sharp, piercing whistle. A few minutes later, Bite and Raze came darting from the trees, greeting Cecil enthusiastically.