The color in the dark elf’s eyes brightened, and the fae laughed in the multi-toned pitch of someone much more powerful. In a deeper voice, he replied, “Smart you are, reaper. This one is a toy. Easily breakable.”
“Why toss him away?” Khent slashed through the hand holding the magical blade and caught the weapon, quickly tucking it away into his mini pocket portal.
“He served his purpose well.”
Sensing a great rush of magic, Khent leaped back.
Flames blasted from the dark elf’s feet and crept their way up his body. The dark elf screamed, his pain real though the dead shouldn’t be able to feel it.
Khent could only watch as the pathetic creature burned up and died.
Words lingered where the ash blew away in a sudden wind. “See you again soon, Khent of the Night Bloode.”
The wind died. Nothing remained of the dark elf.
Behind him, MEC worked to destroy the spider. Macy’s power, Cho’s fire, and a host of weapons tore into the creature before it too burned away, the smell of sulfur strong in the air.
Demonic interference at the bazaar. Hecate would want to know about this.
Khent turned once more to gather the ingredients for his spell and heard screaming and crying coming from the apothecary.
“It’s gone. Gone! They stole it. Gods and heavens. What will we do?”
He approached the crying woman. She appeared human. Some type of witch, no doubt.
“What’s missing?”
She saw him and paled, taking a step back. “The-the staff, my lord. It’s gone.”
“Staff?”
“Of Blight. It’s the closest we have to the original and always drew a crowd when we had it on display. I don’t know why anyone would want it. It’s not that powerful.” She broke down in tears again. “Without it, we’re just another shop in the bazaar.”
Khent thought about an imitation Staff of Blight, a creation in honor of its owner, the Mesopotamian god of war, pestilence, and chaos. A fun fellow. What was his name again?
Ah, yes. Nergal, Lord of Pestilence and King of the Ghosts.
A coincidence that yet another god of chaos appeared right when Khent and his kin, under Hecate’s guidance, continued to search for the weapon capable of fighting a great chaotic Darkness growing ever closer?
As much as he wanted to forget about all this and narrow in on his necromancer, Khent realized his priority should be to get this information back to his patriarch.
He mentally warned his pet,Mila, keep watch, but don’t let yourself be spotted.
An impression of agreement returned to him.
Satisfied by that at least, Khent left the bazaar and made haste back to the house.
Where hopefully, Duncan would see fit to reward him for helping their Bloode Witch live to fight another day.
And Khent could dream of new ways to punish the clever little necromancer still out of his reach.
But not for long.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
At a once-abandonedhouse at the edge of the city, the site of a brutal massacre where dozens of lycans and humans had been sacrificed to a demon, Val stared around at the green grasses and mounds of sloppy flowers growing at an astronomical rate.
