Tintabel laughed and raised one hand. A beam of gray light shot from one of his fingers and played over the king’s force-dome, eating holes in the protective field.
Will was stunned. He’d never encountered a magic that could do that. He fired a force-lance at the vampire, then cast his blur spell. His attack went to waste, though, for a split second before he acted, Tintabel’s body exploded into a cloud of gray dust, expanding to fill the entire room. A voice began to laugh, echoing through the chamber, and he recognized it as Androv. “It’s a shame you ruined my fun, but it changes nothing.”
The king’s elementals were helpless to find a target, and Lognion himself was attempting to repair his defense to no avail. He dismissed it so he could cast another, but it was too late. The dust swarmed toward him, covering his body and filling his mouth and nose. The sovereign of Terabinia didn’t even have a chance to scream before the air was taken from him as his lungs filled with gray powder.
Will was dumbfounded. He couldn’t attack the dust without killing the king, but the king would soon suffocate if he couldn’t do something. And should I do something? If the king dies during this fight, is it really so bad?
Still unsure whether Androv had hidden himself while controlling the dust, or whether Androv was the dust, Will used the rod to send out another chime. The return tone indicated that the room was clear of hidden foes. Is he really the dust itself?
Lacking a better option, Will activated the rod’s iron-body transformation, then summoned his falchion and used the silver-sword spell to cover it with argent flames. Last but not least, he sent another thread of turyn into the rod and cast another of the new spells Ethelgren had showed him, a water-breathing spell.
The name was something of a misnomer though, for the spell did nothing of the sort. Instead, it created a highly concentrated zone of air within the caster’s throat while simultaneously sealing the mouth and nose. The end result was that the caster could survive for up to thirty minutes without air, while the main drawback was that it made it impossible to speak. But that’s an acceptable problem if you’re dealing with poison gases, Ethelgren had told him.
Will didn’t know if the gray dust was poisonous, but he definitely didn’t want it in his lungs.
The king was on his knees, clutching at his throat, and as Will watched he sagged to the floor, his chest heaving and moving, though nothing entered or exited his mouth but more gray powder. His hands tensed into claws and then relaxed as he finally lost consciousness.
Will had been preparing a spell while he watched, and when the king passed out he released it, surrounding the body with a force-dome barely large enough for two men. The dust exploded up and out of Lognion’s mouth, swirling around the inside of the makeshift cage. Will moved closer, readying his burning sword.
His plan was simple, force Androv to resume his human form, then strike him down with the sword. He didn’t know if it would work, but it was the best he could come up with. According to Ethelgren, the argent flames could destroy almost anything, vampire, human, or even tree, as Tiny had demonstrated.
After a moment, Androv’s body reformed from the dust, and he stood smiling at Will with naked fangs that lent an entirely different feeling to the expression. “Please let me out, William. I’m dying to give you something.”
Will could have dismissed the force-dome and then struck, but he wanted Androv kept busy. Sure enough, a second later, the vampire pointed one finger at Will and released another gray bolt of power. It struck the inside of the dome and began devouring the force-wall, crawling around the edges of it like acid on burning flesh. Will stepped to one side and swung the sword. It passed through the fresh opening and completely bisected the pompous wizard.
The flames guttered, and smoke billowed out as Androv screamed and collapsed on the floor in two large and very separate pieces. He glared hatefully at Will.
Dismissing the force-dome, Will swung again, hoping to end the master vampire completely, but the fiend smiled and exploded outward, blinding Will with a thick, gray cloud that swirled around him as it expanded. He could hear Androv laughing in his ears, and seconds later the vampire reformed several feet away. “Did Ethelgren tell you to try the sword? It almost worked, once. Surely, he knew that after that I would find a way to protect myself? Once burned, twice shy, that’s what I always say.”
Will noticed a band of burned flesh at Androv’s midsection. He pointed at it and smiled.
“You think you’ve done me some harm?” A force-dome appeared around Will in the blink of an eye, and then the vampire bent down to lift Lognion’s wrist to his mouth. With a flash of yellow teeth, he tore into the flesh and began to suckle on the wound, lapping at the red blood with a tongue that appeared black whenever it darted out from his lips.
Will was sickened by the sight, and it reminded him of the moments that he’d endured while the vampires had briefly fed on him. He tried to think of a way to escape the force-dome, but unlike Androv, he didn’t know a spell that would destroy force effects. He couldn’t steal it either, for unlike most spells, force effects were intimately tied to their caster—they couldn’t be wrested away.
Androv dropped the king’s still-bleeding wrist and stood up once more, his mouth stained crimson. The scarred flesh at his waist was gone. “See? Good as new. You’re going to love it.”
That sent a cold chill down his spine. Will lifted one hand and made a gesture that was easy to understand.
The master vampire nodded. “Did you know that of all the vampires you’ve met in this precious city, none of them were whole?”
Will frowned.
“Except for me, of course,” said Androv. “All the others are what they used to call ‘lesser vampires.’ Poor, sad creatures created accidentally, either through a botched feeding or an accidental cut or scratch. But you’re worthy of more than that. I will make you my true child.”
Will shook his head.
“That’s too bad. I wasn’t asking. Of all the people in this city, even your sad, centuries-old king, you’re the only one I would consider granting such a boon to. Do you know why?”
Centuries old? That wasn’t possible, not unless the king was a wizard, or was there some other way?
“Because you’re a true wizard, like me. There aren’t many of us left, so you’re a rare find. Then there’s also the fact that the extensive blood transfusion will give me even more control over your thoughts and actions than that pathetic heart-stone enchantment your king so favors. By making you my heir, I will double my strength on the council.”
If that were his criteria, he’d do the same to Lognion. Will dismissed the water breathing spell and said, “You’ll have to take this dome down first, and as soon as you do, I’ll be all over you,” threatened Will, waving the sword. He wished he could believe his own words. Using the rod, he replaced the spell as soon as he’d finished speaking.