JК
The Magehound :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 101 из 216"I daresay the fiend will be as much a surprise to them as it wasto us. Fortunately, we are better prepared now."
"We?" the wemic repeated suspiciously. "But you will not be there."
"Actually, dear Mbatu, I rather think that I must."
A low, angry growl came from the wemic. "You cannot," he said fiercely. "The laraken feeds upon magical energy. How many wizards have you sent into the swamp? Few of those wizards survived. Those who did were utterly stripped of their magic and more empty of mind than if an enfeeblement spell had been cast upon them. What will happen to you if we go into that place?"
The magehound traced his set jaw with her coppery fingertips. "Don't fear for me, dear Mbatu. I have learned quite a few of the swamp's secrets. Have I never told you how the wizard Akhlaur was defeated? No? He was dragged into the elemental plane of water by the very creature he summoned to help create the laraken."
"Yes. So?"
"So a tiny gate remains. Water leaks through, and with it the powerful magic of the elemental plane. It is this leak, this magic, that sustains the laraken and keeps it dependent upon the swamp." She smiled slyly. "If I could close this gate, the laraken would be forced to seek sustenance elsewhere."
The wemic's tailed lashed with anger and frustration. "But how? We could take a hundred jordaini into the swamp, and the laraken would still be drawn to you!"
The magehound's face hardened. "Why do you think we have been chasing Keturah's daughter?" she demanded. "If she's truly her mother's daughter, she will be able to call the laraken."
"What of the mother?"
"I have other uses for Keturah," Kiva said in a voice that forbade discussion. "It is Tzigone we need."
The magehound fell silent, and her face became contemplative. "It may well be that Tzigone had not yet relieved herself of her so-called honor debt to Matteo. If Matteo were to come to grief, she might feel obligated to intervene.
"Yes," she said with greater certainty, "it is time to add some complications to the young jordain's life."
"And if that does not serve?"
The magehound gave her servant a small, cool smile. "Then at the very least, you will get your revenge upon him."
Chapter Eleven
In the days to come, Matteo was to spend many hours with Procopio Septus. He attended the wizard daily at the Ilysium, a vast pink marble building that housed the offices of city officials. When Procopio's duties as lord mayor were discharged, they usually took to the sky.
"We?" the wemic repeated suspiciously. "But you will not be there."
"Actually, dear Mbatu, I rather think that I must."
A low, angry growl came from the wemic. "You cannot," he said fiercely. "The laraken feeds upon magical energy. How many wizards have you sent into the swamp? Few of those wizards survived. Those who did were utterly stripped of their magic and more empty of mind than if an enfeeblement spell had been cast upon them. What will happen to you if we go into that place?"
The magehound traced his set jaw with her coppery fingertips. "Don't fear for me, dear Mbatu. I have learned quite a few of the swamp's secrets. Have I never told you how the wizard Akhlaur was defeated? No? He was dragged into the elemental plane of water by the very creature he summoned to help create the laraken."
"Yes. So?"
"So a tiny gate remains. Water leaks through, and with it the powerful magic of the elemental plane. It is this leak, this magic, that sustains the laraken and keeps it dependent upon the swamp." She smiled slyly. "If I could close this gate, the laraken would be forced to seek sustenance elsewhere."
The wemic's tailed lashed with anger and frustration. "But how? We could take a hundred jordaini into the swamp, and the laraken would still be drawn to you!"
The magehound's face hardened. "Why do you think we have been chasing Keturah's daughter?" she demanded. "If she's truly her mother's daughter, she will be able to call the laraken."
"What of the mother?"
"I have other uses for Keturah," Kiva said in a voice that forbade discussion. "It is Tzigone we need."
The magehound fell silent, and her face became contemplative. "It may well be that Tzigone had not yet relieved herself of her so-called honor debt to Matteo. If Matteo were to come to grief, she might feel obligated to intervene.
"Yes," she said with greater certainty, "it is time to add some complications to the young jordain's life."
"And if that does not serve?"
The magehound gave her servant a small, cool smile. "Then at the very least, you will get your revenge upon him."
Chapter Eleven
In the days to come, Matteo was to spend many hours with Procopio Septus. He attended the wizard daily at the Ilysium, a vast pink marble building that housed the offices of city officials. When Procopio's duties as lord mayor were discharged, they usually took to the sky.