no harm or insult.’
Still prevented from seeing anything through the door by the motionless behemoth who occupied their entire field of vision, the boys then heard the voice of Pablo Maguire saying, ‘What is going on here?’
A three-voiced conversation then ensued; the woman shouting in an almost hysterical pitch, while two male voices appeared to be trying to assuage her concerns.
The big man in the doorway put his dagger away slowly and backed out the door, so now the boys could see a swordsman standing behind him, his blade resting on the man’s neck. ‘Now, I’m going to remove my sword from your neck,’ he said, ‘and you’ll go see to your mistress without any more fuss.’
The bodyguard moved forward a step and turned. Just before he could faced the wielder of the blade, he found the point of the weapon at his neck once more. ‘Ah ah ah!’ said the young man holding the sword. ‘That wouldn’t be very wise.’
The big man stepped away, threw a nasty glance at the two boys and turned and vanished into the room at the end of the hall.
The man with the sword walked over to the door and said, ‘You boys all right?’
Tad and Zane both nodded. Tad said, ‘We are in your debt.’
‘Not really,’ said the man, putting his sword into its scabbard. He had dark hair and blue eyes, and his movements were catquick. He smiled and looked younger than he had a moment before. ‘I followed them up the stairs, and when I saw the confusion ahead of me, I thought it best to keep that mountain of a man – assuming he is human and not some troll they’ve shaved – from gutting you two.’ He glanced around. ‘Actually, I was looking for a man named Caleb.’
‘That’s our stepfather,’ said Zane. ‘He’s going to be gone for a while.’
‘Ah,’ said the swordsman. ‘Well, I guess I need to come back later. How long might he be?’
‘He said two hours,’ answered Tad. ‘We were going to do some more exploring over by the eastern caravanserai.’
He nodded. ‘I think I shall wait here for a few more minutes.’ He indicated the end of the hall with a lift of his chin. ‘Just to make sure you’re not followed. I don’t think Caleb would appreciate me letting you get turned into chopped meat any time soon.’
‘I’m Tad, and this is Zane.’
The man bowed, and the boys could see he was finely dressed. ‘I’m Talwin Hawkins, an old friend of Caleb.’ He winked at the boys. ‘Go on, then; see if you can find some fun that doesn’t involve bloodshed.’
He stood aside as the boys left the room and then followed them into the hall and down the stairs. Reaching the common room, Tal said, ‘I have a message for Caleb, when you see him.’
‘Sir?’ asked Tad.
‘Tell him the usual time, same place, tomorrow night. Got it?’
Tad repeated the message back to him.
‘I need to be off, just in case.’
‘Just in case, sir?’ asked Zane.
‘Yes, exactly,’ said Tal, moving towards the door. ‘If I were you, I would head outside and keep yourselves busy until Caleb returns. That bodyguard up there could eat you both for lunch and still have room for an ox.’ He disappeared out the door.
Tad looked at Zane. ‘Well, we still have some daylight. Let’s wander around the bazaar.’
Seeing no reasonable alternative, the boys returned outside and decided to use the last hours of sunlight for something more enjoyable than being thrashed by Mamanaud.
NAKOR LOOKED AROUND.
‘What exactly are we looking for?’
Pug motioned around himself, swinging his arm in a wide are ahead of them. ‘Since Leso Varen fled Olasko, we’ve been trying to find the range of his “death rifts”, for lack of a better term.’
‘That much I know,’ said Nakor, walking through knee-high grass.
They were standing with Ralan Bek in the middle of a wide grassland that swept down from the mountains to the east, approximately three days’ ride from the border between the Kingdom of the Isles and the Duchy of Maladon and Semrick. Had they travelled by horseback from the nearest city, Maladon, it would have taken another four days.
Bek stood watching the two men wandering through the grass in front of him and laughed. ‘Are we going to be walking around in circles all day?’
Pug glanced at the troubling young man and nodded. ‘If needs be. Over a year ago we found evidence of some very powerful, very dark magic, and without boring you further, let’s just say that there is a relationship between that magic and a great deal of trouble yet to come.
‘It would help us if we could find … the track, if you will, between the place this magic originated – in Olakso’s capital, Opardum – and somewhere else. Our best calculations indicate that we should find a place where we can pick up that trail somewhere near here, if that makes sense.’
Bek shook his head and laughed. ‘You name places I’ve never heard of. One moment it’s midwinter, and the next it’s summer. You speak with a strange tongue, yet I can still understand most of what you say.
‘Besides,’ he added with another laugh, ‘I was not given the choice about being here or not. So, here I am.’ He narrowed his gaze at Pug. ‘And none of it makes sense.’
Pointing to a stand of trees a hundred yards to the north, he added, ‘But I think you’ll find what you’re looking for over there.’
Pug raised his eyebrows as he looked at Nakor, who shrugged. The two men turned towards the trees and Nakor said, ‘I don’t sense anything.’
‘Varen worked hard to disguise his work. Look how long it took us to trace the link this far.’
Turning to Bek, Nakor said, ‘Stay here so we can mark this spot if we find nothing in the trees.’
Bek took off the black hat he had taken from the man he had killed at the Talnoy’s cave and feigned a courtly bow. ‘Your wish is my command, Nakor.’
The two old friends walked towards the trees and Pug said, ‘Have you thought about what we should do with him?’
Nakor said, ‘The simple solution is to kill him.’
‘We’ve murdered for our cause, but only when we judged that there was no other way.’ Pug glanced back at Bek who stood quietly where they had told him to wait. ‘And had you thought that there was no other way, I am certain you would never have brought him to Sorcerer’s Isle.’
‘True. Potentially, he may be the most dangerous man we have ever encountered.’ Nakor reached into his bag, pulled out an orange and offered it to Pug who shook his head. The little gambler started to peel it. ‘As powerful as he is at twenty summers old, can you imagine what he might become in a hundred years, two hundred?’
‘Will he survive that long?’ asked Pug as they reached the edge of the trees.
‘Look at you, me and Miranda,’ said Nakor as they stepped between the boles. The white and brown peeling bark confused their vision for a moment, as did the sudden shadow after standing out in the midday sun. ‘You and Miranda have powerful magic to keep you young, but me, I only have my tricks.’
Pug nodded, smiling indulgently. ‘Call it what you will, Nakor. I’ll concede that your talent has no logic or system