Frostborn: The Broken Mage Read Free Page A

staff.
    “Nothing just now,” said Calliande.
    “Ah,” said Antenora. “I fear that means many things are amiss, but you can do nothing about them at the moment, so you carry on as best you can.” 
    “Something like that, yes,” said Calliande.
    “It is a familiar feeling, Keeper,” said Antenora. “I remember that…” 
    “Stop,” said Ridmark. 
    For a moment Calliande thought that Ridmark had grown irritated at the conversation, but one look at his expression proved otherwise. His hard face had gone tight, his blue eyes narrowed to slits, the black staff of Ardrhythain ready in his hand. 
    Ahead she saw the reason for his alarm. 
    They had come to a crossroads. The gallery continued ahead, glowstones shining here and there from the pillars. Another gallery intersected it about thirty yards ahead, and it looked as if a great deal of fighting had taken place there. Both orcish and dwarven bones lay upon the ground, and Calliande saw more of the frozen armor of a Frostborn. 
    It was the perfect spot for an ambush. If Calliande saw it, Ridmark would definitely notice it. 
    “Brother Caius?” said Ridmark. 
    Caius frowned. “The gallery straight ahead continues to the Dormari Market, I believe. The galleries to the right and to the left go to residential areas, where visitors and foreigners were housed when visiting Khald Azalar.”
    “You believe?” said Jager.
    Caius shrugged. “It has been two hundred years since I last passed the Gate of the West. My memory is not as clear on the matter as I might wish.” 
    Ridmark said nothing, the fingers of his right hand drumming against his staff. 
    “Morigna,” he said at last.
    “Aye?” she said, stepping to his side. She carried her bow in hand, an arrow ready at the string. Her face was its usual cold, somewhat mocking mask, but her black eyes softened as she looked at Ridmark, and he seemed less grim when he looked at her. A flicker of jealousy went through Calliande, and she pushed it aside. 
    “The spell you cast in Thainkul Dural,” said Ridmark. “The day we escaped from the mzrokar.” Morigna nodded. “I think you should cast it right now.” 
    Calliande stiffened, and then began summoning the power of the Well for a spell. Kharlacht, Caius, and Gavin all raised their weapons. Mara, Jager, Arandar, and Antenora all looked confused.
    “Trouble?” murmured Jager.
    “I think so,” said Calliande. “I think there are foes nearby, and they can overhear us. Be ready to strike.” 
    Antenora said nothing, but the white flame crackling atop her staff grew brighter, the sigils carved into the wood beginning to glow. Calliande looked around, readying herself to release power. She saw no sign of any enemies, but that meant nothing. The dvargir could use their powers over shadow to turn themselves invisible. Deep orcs could move with inhuman stealth. Calliande glanced at the ceiling, remembering how the children of the urdmordar could climb overhead, but saw nothing. Her eyes swept over the walls, past the pillars carved with blocky dwarven glyphs and reliefs, and…
    The pillars.
    A cold chill swept through her. 
    She was certain something was hiding behind one of the pillars, and suddenly she knew what had triggered Ridmark’s alarm.
    Morigna slung her bow over her shoulder and lifted her staff, muttering a spell as she did so. Purple fire flashed up and down the staff, and her eyelids fluttered. Morigna’s power over earth magic let her sense the presence of people standing upon the stone floor. Not even the dvargir could hide themselves from that spell.
    Morigna’s eyes shot open.
    “Ridmark!” she said. “They’re behind the pillars!”
    “Defend yourselves!” said Ridmark, and the others spun into a ring, moving to shield Calliande, Antenora, and Morigna so they could work their spells.
    As they did, shapes appeared from behind the pillars. 
    They looked orcish, albeit far different from the orcs that dwelled upon the