The Titaness giggled. “Perhaps if I joined your efforts, our two heads together might between them gain the insight needed.”
There was no question that she was crafty, and Hundjal was tempted to accept her partnership, but the glory or failure ought to be his alone. Dauroth would expect his lead apprentice to rely upon no other. That surely was part of the test.
He shut the tome but still did not look at her. “The offer is generous but must still be declined, fair Morgada. I must continue this quest on my own.”
Her face swung down very close to his. “But surely the two of us can stoke the fires of inspiration as none of the others could alone or together. You shall see; we will find the answer.”
Hundjal was no longer truly listening to her. Something she had said had stirred a notion previously unthinkable, something that could work.
He rose, pulling her up with him at the same time. “I think not, fair Morgada.”
She gave him a seductive smile as he steered her toward the door. At a later time, Hundjal would endeavor to find out how she had gained entrance to Dauroth’s rooms. For the moment, he was busy with more important matters. “As you like … a shame.”
It was all Hundjal could do to keep himself contained until he was certain that the other Titan was gone. That time, the apprentice made certain that the seal on the door was intact. Only he and Dauroth could open it.
Thinking of his mentor, Hundjal decided to act quickly, just in case the master might be coming to check on his progress.
As the heir apparent to Dauroth’s secrets, Hundjal had taken it upon himself to learn and understand all of them, even those his master had not yet officially revealed to either him or Safrag. Both apprentices knew the legend that interested Hundjal; both knew that there must be some fact behind the legend. Both knew, even, that the master hid the only proof within his sanctum. But neither was supposed to know more than that.
That was true, at least, for Safrag.
It had taken Hundjal many months to decipher the master’s protective spells, but, as with all he hunted, the secrets of those spells had eventually fallen to him. He did not hesitate to summon the pathway to the hidden chamber, a place that he had visited only once before but could never, ever forget.
Once the way was open, it took mere seconds to reach the Chamber of Ice, as Hundjal knew it would. Immediately, he noted the various mounds, recalling what was hidden inside of them. Utterly confident, the apprentice stepped inside the chamber.
Barely had his foot touched the chill floor when the first of the skeletal warriors broke free of its prison. A second and a third followed.
In a voice that was an exact replication of Dauroth’s, Hundjal sang the words. “Asymnopti isidiu.”
He watched with impatience as the guardians stepped back and allowed ice and snow to bury them again. Although the entire encounter had taken but a mere handful of seconds, to Hundjal it felt as if dangerous years had passed.
When the mounds were at last still, the Titan rushed to the ice-encrusted box. Anticipation and apprehension gnawed at him like starving meredrakes. Suddenly he wondered why he had waited so long to once more witness the glory of its contents.
When the silver tendrils came at him, he used a spell of his own crafting to suspend them. The spell would last only for a hundred heartbeats, but by then Hundjal would be long gone.
His breathing rapid, the apprentice opened the chest. He was prepared for the intense light and kept his eyes turned away until he felt able to adjust them accordingly.
Within, floating trapped in the clear liquid that Hundjal knew Dauroth had created, the minute fragment awaited him.
The fragment was out of legend.
Hundjal snorted at the tale Dauroth had once told him, that even that piece called all those who had used it every time it was used again … and again … and again. After all, since the one time he had been there, months had passed. It had not even been his idea to use the fragment; that inspiration had sprung from Morgada’s mouth, when she had spoken of fire.
And once Hundjal was done using the fragment for his vital task, he would never have to touch it again.
Although … how fascinating it would be to hunt down the full truth, hunt to see if the rest of the artifact still existed.
The Titan shook his head. Enough dreaming! Time is of the essence, fool!
Hundjal thrust his hand into the liquid. A sense of warmth spread up his arm as he seized hold of his quarry. However, the apprentice did not remove the piece, but kept it submerged. That was the key to its use, Hundjal had determined, something he was certain even his illustrious mentor had not realized.
With absolute care, Hundjal began mentally formulating his spell. The fragment would help him bypass and overcome the delicate magics involved in the tomb’s protections. All Hundjal had to do was absorb the magic power of the fragment, then hold those forces in reserve using thought control.
Of course, he would have to depart immediately for the mountainside after that, for the fragment’s abilities were very powerful and had the potential to burn out his mind.
It was done, done so easily. Hundjal beamed with pride at his own cleverness. It suddenly occurred to him that his prize could be utilized for other complex troubles plaguing the Black Talon, complex troubles such as the problem of the Grand Lord Golgren. The master had said that the mongrel’s usefulness was nearing its end, especially with the news discovered that not only did Golgren seek a pact with the humans-humans! — but he hoped to do so by freeing all the elves held by the ogres.
Yes, it was time to put an end to the grand lord, and with the fragment, the magic that protected him would count for nothing.
Hundjal’s golden eyes reflected the fiery light from within the box. One more use of the fragment would be all that he required. But first, he had to prove himself trustworthy to his master by safely opening the tomb. Then … then Dauroth would see his genius and agree to the plan of his favored apprentice.
One of the silver tendrils started to move. The Titan reluctantly pulled his hand free then shut the lid. Hundjal held the chest away from him. After a futile grab, the tendrils vanished. Eyes on the icy mounds, the apprentice left the chamber.
Returning to Dauroth’s study, Hundjal exulted. He gathered up some random parchments and the two thickest tomes and left the chambers, singing out, “I have it! I have the key.”
The Talon assembled on the edge of the chill peak within sight of the mountain tomb. Day had given way to night, but through their enhanced senses, they could see the entrance as well as any nocturnal creature might have. The spells disguising the tomb had been easy enough to rip away without danger to the interior, but the band awaited Hundjal’s promised efforts.
And no one waited more eagerly than Dauroth.
“You are very certain of the construction of your spell?” he asked his pupil, more than a hint of menace in his tone.
A fierce gust of wind blew through the area, but none of the Titans were affected by something so mundane. Hair bound back and perfectly groomed, Hundjal answered, “I am, my master.”
“Yet you have required no fresh blood nor any sacrifice for it.”
“Nor did the ancients,” the senior apprentice immediately pointed out, as if he had expected that question and had the reply ready. “And that is part of the path to understanding.”
Dauroth nodded his appreciation. “I would hear more on this subject at a more convenient time, good Hundjal.”
“And I would be so honored to discuss my beliefs with you, my master.” He abruptly winced, one hand clutching the side of his head.