The second time he succeeded, and he quickly drew off the guard’s turyn until the man collapsed. The soldier’s companion tried to assist his comrade, but Will repeated the process and after a few seconds the second guard collapsed as well. Will kept pulling, trying to kill the second guard, but the man stubbornly continued to breathe.
“That won’t work,” Tailtiu whispered into his ear. “The body fights against death. The more you draw, the harder his source will burn to keep him alive. All you’re doing is shortening his life by a few days.”
“Oh,” said Will, having learned something new. He stopped what he was doing. His body was already thrumming with too much turyn, so he spent a minute slowly expelling it until he felt normal again. Then he crept forward, toward the unconscious guards. Pulling one flap of the tent to the side, he glanced inside but saw no one in the front section of the pavilion.
“Aren’t you going to kill them?” asked his aunt.
“How long do you think it will take them to wake up?” asked Will.
She shrugged. “An hour, perhaps longer. Everyone is different, but they will be exhausted for days.”
“Then I don’t need to kill them,” decided Will, feeling an internal sense of relief.
“They’re your enemy. Why not reduce their numbers while you have the chance?” argued Tailtiu.
He shook his head. “No. They’re soldiers following orders. The Patriarch is my enemy. My goal is to stop him from invading my country, not to avenge myself on as many of his servants as possible.”
“You’re a fool, nephew.”
Will ignored her remark. “Wait here. I’m going to look inside. If a patrol seems likely to find them, warn me.” He ducked inside without waiting for her to respond.
The pavilion was partitioned, and the section he was inside appeared to be devoted to administration tasks. A wide table occupied the center, and two small camp desks were on either side. A pile of papers sat in the middle of the table, but Will saw nothing written on them. Why are they blank? He adjusted his vision back to normal and saw writing appear as if by magic, then he understood. I can’t see the ink with the heart-light.
He still had no time to read them, so he rolled the entire stack into a tube before tying it with a strip of leather he found on one of the desks. That done, he stuffed the entire bundle into his tunic. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but at least he wouldn’t risk losing the papers if he had to run.
Moving to the right, he went through the opening that led to the second portion of the pavilion. A large cot stood on the far side of the second partition, while a table and several chests stood near the walls. The cot was empty, and the area seemed unoccupied, but large quantities of turyn were flowing around the room, swirling and twisting like water in a river that had encountered shallow rocks. What is this?
A familiar green line speared into his chest, and Will felt his body seize up. Panic swept through him as he realized he had been caught. The only things he could move were his eyes, and as they darted from side to side, he saw the line of magic that had connected to his source. It emerged from his chest and angled downward, into the ground at the center of the tent. The rocky soil began to boil, as if it were liquid rather than solid, and a man slowly rose up from the earth itself.
The Darrowan commander was a lean man with a thin moustache and a receding hairline. He wore no armor, given the hour, but was instead clothed in a thick and heavily embroidered sleeping gown. “Fortunately, I’m a light sleeper,” said the stranger. “What are you, an assassin?”
The man smiled when he saw that Will was unable to reply. “Next time, kill me first. The sound of you shuffling all those papers woke me. If you had found me sleeping, I doubt I would have survived. Perhaps you’ll remember this wisdom in your next life.”
The enemy commander began pulling at Will’s turyn, draining him in the same manner that Will had with the guards outside. His paralyzed muscles went slack, and he sank to the ground. The other mage continued until Will was reduced to almost nothing, then released the source-link. The commander studied him for a moment, seemingly deep in thought.
Will watched his opponent the entire time, while doing his best to speed up the recovery of his turyn. Fortunately, the room was full of turyn, as he had already seen, which made the process faster. Thirty seconds, he thought. That’s all I need. If the commander got close enough, he planned to draw his sword and stab the mage before he could be trapped again.
The enemy commander didn’t get close, however. He studied Will warily. “Still conscious? How odd. What sort of assassin are you?”
He’s not going to give me a chance by getting close, thought Will. The man was already suspicious. Will didn’t dare wait any longer, so he shifted his plan. Forming the runes as quickly as he could, he attempted to link to the commander in the same manner as had been done to him.
But the stranger was faster. The mage leapt back several feet and caught Will with the source-link spell in the blink of an eye. “A wizard?”
Will focused all his attention on the link, and this time he caught his opponent as the man tried to separate him from his source. Pulling, Will tried to drain the other man’s turyn, and a battle of wills ensued. Clenching his jaw, Will fought silently with the enemy commander, and as the seconds ticked by he felt his opponent begin to weaken.
“Damn,” cursed the commander. “You’re strong.” Then he smiled. “But it won’t matter. “Raiha, Selvaren, Trant, Laira, defend me!”
Will saw the turyn in the room shifting as four massive elementals began to answer the call of their master, coming from whatever strange place they were kept, but he ignored that. Keeping his will iron-hard, he drew his sword and lunged forward, driving the point through the sorcerer’s chest.
He had missed the heart, but his sword must have hit something equally vital, for the commander’s eyes glazed over almost immediately as the man slid into first unconsciousness and then death. “Next time you shouldn’t forget that even a simple sword can kill.” Then, just because he figured his grandfather would have appreciated it, he added, “Fucking sorcerers.”
There were still other presences in the room, however, and when Will looked up he saw that he was surrounded by four elementals, two of earth and two of fire. They didn’t attack, but remained quiet, watching him. Thin, almost invisible lines of turyn ran from them to the dead man, and as Will looked closer, he saw there was still magic glowing softly in the chest of the commander. The heart-stone enchantments, he realized.
Reaching down with his left hand, he felt something tug at him and four knots of intricately wound turyn rose from the sorcerer’s chest. They looked very similar to the limnthal his grandfather had given him, and he summoned it just so he could compare them. But for a few minor differences, they were almost identical.
He was tempted to take them. Will could feel the magic seeking a new home, a new master, him, but he resisted the urge to take them. The elementals were still watching him, and he felt a sense of sadness emanating from them. He remembered what Arrogan had done when he defeated the sorcerer in Barrowden. Could he do the same?
Lightly touching the heart-stone enchantments, he thought he could feel the emotions of the primal spirits, but there were no distinct thoughts. I am not a sorcerer, Will thought, trying to project his intention through the enchantments. I will free you instead. Will you do a favor for me before you go?