mouth of the corpse and cry out a warning.
Even as the shrieks wrenched out from that throat, Aylis bolted up and away, and as she passed from behind the shadow and into the ceiling above, she saw the corpse pointing at her as she fled, while Magekind turned or lifted their gazes as if to see what the dead Hlôk saw; and she sped up through stone and chambers and halls and soil and cobbles to emerge in the center of the courtyard.
Back to the knoll she raced, to flee into her own body, and as she regained possession of herself she managed to cry out, “Discovered!” before she slumped forward into a faint.
And from somewhere within the Black Fortress, a huge gong began tolling out an alarm.
7
Black Fortress
NEXUS
WINTERDAY, 5E1010
[THE FINAL YEAR OF THE FIFTH ERA]
“Aylis!” cried Aravan, starting forward, even as she slowly toppled sideways to lie as one asleep. But Bair grabbed onto Aravan’s arm and held him back, saying, “Nay, kelan, the yet flows. I think it would not do to break the stream.”
Though agitated, nevertheless, Aravan waited, shifting from foot to foot, straining to hold back, while a league and a mile away, the alarm gong in the Black Fortress continued to sound out a deep tolling.
Moments passed, and moments more, but at last Bair said, “Now.”
Quickly, Aravan stepped through the arc of Magekind and unto Aylis’s side, where he knelt and cradled her in his arms. “Chier. Chier,” he whispered.
Mages of the arc got to their feet, all but Delynn, who remained seated. “Fear not, Aravan,” said the Sorceress. “It taxes a Seer to do what Aylis did, and I am surprised that she managed to speak ere she swooned. But she will waken soon, for her spirit is now fully within her form.”
Several more moments passed, and at last Aylis opened her gold-flecked green eyes to stare into Aravan’s sapphire blue gaze.
“Love?” she asked, frowning.
“Just counting the freckles ’pon your cheeks, Chier,” said Aravan, smiling. Then he kissed her lightly.
Even as he aided her to her feet, Aylis’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, my, I was discovered. We must get to my father, for there are more than we guessed might be.”
“Twelve, daughter, twelve?”
“Yes, Father,” replied Aylis, now fully recovered from the strain of her casting. “Twelve Black Mages. Yet whether there are additional dark Wizards, I cannot say.” She stood among a small gathering of Elves and Wizards, Aravan at her side, Bair across from her, the allied forces nearby.
Still, the alarm gong in the Black Fortress rang.
Cadir sighed. “We planned for one or two, but twelve?”
Dalor shook his head. “As jealous as they are of one another, for that many Black Mages to be together is a rarity. I wonder why they might have gathered?”
Fedor, a tall, skinny Mage standing next to Alamar, glanced at Bair and then at Aravan and said, “Mayhap it has to do with the death of Gyphon. Perhaps they yet have ambitions.”
“Of course they have ambitions,” snapped Alamar, “but without a god at their beck, we are more than a match for Black Magekind.”
“All of us on Vadaria can defeat them,” said Dalor, “but here with the numbers we have versus theirs?”
Fedor glumly nodded. “Twelve Black Mages in the bastion is certainly more than we bargained for, and if there are others, well . . .”
“Why would this be a problem?” asked Ruar. “I mean, there are seven nines of you Mages among us. Is that not enough to counter twelve?”
Aylis shook her head. “It isn’t the number of Mages we have, but rather the amount of at our beck.” She sighed and gestured at the fortress. “Those vile Mages will wrest what life force they need from the Foul Folk within, whereas we will
Learning to Kill: Stories