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gargantuan seeking to tear it to shreds.
At Grimm's right side sat Drexelica, her face white and drawn, and her eyes
wide with fear. She clutched the young sorcerer's ragged robe in a
white-knuckled grip, and her lips moved silently, as if in prayer. Grimm
longed to take her in his arms and comfort her, but he was ever-mindful of the
baleful presence of Xylox on his left. He was also aware that, should he give
in to his emotions, he might well lose his hard-earned magical powers; so the
laws and protocols of the Guild told him.
Although he yearned to seek solace from his fear in the girl's arms, he sat
ramrod-straight on the bench, driving his thoughts away from his true desires.
Grimm glanced at Xylox. The senior Questor seemed as imperturbable as ever,
although he rubbed his temples from time to time, his eyes closed in an
expression of extreme discomfort. He displayed, however, not the slightest
sign of anxiety.
On the opposite side of the rattling machine sat the two warriors. Tordun
seemed to be devoting all his attention to dressing the already razor-sharp
edge of his huge sword with a stone. Grimm eyed the massive blade with some
trepidation, worried that it might fly from the albino's hand, but Tordun kept
the sword pinned across his legs with an iron grip, despite the vehicle's
violent jerking.
Beside Tordun, Crest oiled his long, black whip from a small brown bottle,
working the oil into the leather with a loving hand. Neither man showed
anything on his face but an expression of serene detachment, and Grimm envied
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his companions their composure.
It did not occur to him that they might just be better actors than he, and
that their vitals might be churning just as his own were.
"What is the matter, Questor Xylox? Grimm called to his senior.  You seem in
some discomfort; I may be able to help, for I have some small skill in
Healing."
Xylox shook his head, a gesture which caused him to wince.
"I will not imbibe any of your cursed herbs, Questor Grimm, he said.  I have
no desire to become some drooling, mindless addict, thank you very much.
"And I do not want anywitch magic tainting me, either, he added, glancing at
Drex.
Grimm winced a little at the  drooling, mindless addict tag. He had become
addicted to the potent drugs, Trina and Virion, almost at the cost of his
rationality, but he knew that Xylox was only lashing out at his junior in
response to his own helplessness.
"I must confess that I have over-extended myself, Brother Mage, Xylox
continued, speaking directly into his younger colleague's ear with a
conspiratorial air.  The spell I cast on Foster is far more than a simple
Geas; I also sent with it a strong Compulsion, so that he would believe that
our route was his own idea.
"This is a spell that few other mages could master, he boasted.  It requires
a prodigious amount of energy and precision to overcome a man's resistance,
whilst giving him the illusion that he maintains free will."
"Armitage managed the same sleight by Technological means, Grimm replied,
unimpressed.  It seems that his enslaved minions, once freed from his
influence, were quite unaware that their lives had been controlled by him for
so long. I believe this was Deeks downfall; he expected that all the
downtrodden serfs of Haven would rise as one to destroy the Administrator once
his influence was eliminated, whereas they merely went about their various
duties as if nothing had happened."
"What a man may do by means of that bastard discipline is irrelevant, Xylox
snapped. Plainly, he did not want his mighty achievement diminished or
belittled by comparison to the ancient art; an affront to the mage's mighty
ego must pain him more than any headache.  What I did was far beyond the
capabilities of the vast majority of mages."
"It was a most impressive display of thaumaturgic mastery, Grimm assured
him, as a blazing thought shot through his mind, robbing him of all others.
He had almost convinced himself that his grandfather, Loras, had been
ensorcelled into attempting to smother the old Prelate of Arnor House, but
Loras apparent complete acceptance of his own guilt in the matter had seemed
an insurmountable obstacle. Now, Grimm had learned that a person could be
persuaded by magic that his enforced actions were of his own volition. If so,
then it was possible that Loras had been put under such a spell.
"Questor Xylox, he pressed his colleague,  could you persuade a man to kill [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]