"Mickey Zucker Reichert - Renshai 02 - The Western Wizard" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reichert Mickey Zucker)

power. Yet Trilless knew the Sword of Tranquillity as a mother knows her child.



Lightning flared, breaking the peace of the union between mistress and treasure. The demon's obligations
finished, Trilless could no longer hold it. Enchanted fetters fell from it with a sound like breaking harp
strings. The demon howled its challenge, each word louder than the one before. "I've served you, Lady.
Now, I'll claim my BLOOD!"



"No!" Trilless screamed. Breakers frothed against the cliffs as the sorceress pictured the demon ravaging
innocents as the price for her knowledge. Tapped of power by the summons and wards, Trilless
struggled to gather strength to call magics of slaying upon the demon. Yet, constrained by Odin's laws to
never directly harm men or Wizards, Trilless had no practice with such spells. She had carefully drawn
the sequence to the forefront of memory before summoning the creature, and she mouthed the syllables
from rote. But now, her concentration seemed scattered, and the hubbub of internal suggestions only
added to the confusion.



Vibrant sparks of sorcery flashed from Trilless, their glow rivaling the sun. They struck the dark shape of
the demon, spattering harmlessly to stone. The demon laughed, huge, serrated wings unfurling from its
dark formlessness. Blood-flecked saliva oozed from its mouth.



Despite her weakness and confusion, Trilless held her voice steady and raised one arm. The sleeve slid
back, revealing pale, wrinkled flesh. "Take my blood, Vile One. You shall have no other!"



Bound by the sacrifice, the demon sprang with a wavering howl. His wail filled Trilless' head, drawing
and tugging, as if to pull out her soul. Claws tore her forearm like knives. She retreated, protective
incantations burning her throat. Nothing of flesh or law could harm her, but she had dared to call a
creature who could. Agony scattered her wits, and she called upon the memories of her predecessors for
strength.



The sea surged and boiled. Trilless fell to her knees, drawing strength from the ocean's perfect basic
power. She recovered her senses quickly and, with them, confidence. Her shouted sorceries regained
their rhythm. Light flashed, blindingly brilliant against the demon's darkness, and the creature vanished
before the spell sequence ended.



Trilless whispered the last few syllables from the deep-seated need for completeness. The demon's claw
strikes trailed blood, four ugly gashes only magic could heal. Had she still been mortal, each would have
stolen a decade from her time left to live; but this meant little to one who had survived four centuries and