To his diviner’s sight the fingers appeared as if tipped with long, black claws, digging cruelly into the flesh of his blood-soaked arm.
He knew at once what he was facing when he met her gaze. Her eyes stared into his, glowing with an evil red light. And they knew he had seen them.
Succubus.
The Ward
Palanad Lantar stood on a high balcony of the Wizard’s Tower. To his right, a group of mages struggled to load a large red crystal into a rotating mount affixed to a hastily erected stand.
He pointed to the east. “There!” he said. “Do you see it, Cyrus?”
Lord Cyrus Rugon squinted. Clouds and driving rain hung low in the sky and obscured their view from the tower. There was a sudden flash of lightning. The councilor blinked, trying to clear the afterimage from his eyes.
“It’s hard to make out anything through Elena’s storm,” he said tentatively. “And my vision isn’t what it used to be. What am I looking for, Palanad?”
The court mage was quiet for a long time.
“The Queen’s isn’t the only weather magic at play here,” he said at last. “A bank of clouds is surrounding the city. Outside the line of the bluffs. It’s nearly complete now.”
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