Free Regret's Shadow (Sins of Earth Trilogy) by Jefferson Cram

the shade walked its vessel back to a waiting position near the door.  As the image of Drejth faded, his voice could be heard echoing above the hum of the engine.
    “The time of my return is nigh.  Do not fail me.”
    As the thrall resumed its dull form and posture, Leodyne bowed its rotten head.  After a moment, it rose, and turned to Reynolt.
    I hope you are aware of the importance of this moment, whelp.
    Reynolt turned his face to the lych, but his eyes were unfocused.  Falkshire didn’t notice.  Deep inside, Dramus began to manipulate the ARC engine’s power signature.  He tuned out all but the most basic of sensory data.
    History will mark this day as the beginning of the end for the Van Uther line.  The Realm of Men will kneel before its new master!
    The lych punctuated this statement by placing its cadaverous hands upon Reynolt’s chest.
    Immediately Reynolt was assaulted by a blaze of freezing pain.  He nearly lost his connection to the ARC engine as the agony ripped into him.  The icy touch of the lych spread through his chest, deepening into his very being as the thing fed upon his life-force.
    Tendrils of power swelled from the engine to fill the void of negative energy created by the lych.  As it began to pass through him, Reynolt used his gift to transform its positive energy into hungry negative energy – even as it threatened to consume him.
    Leodyne lurched at the first eddies of negative energy rippled into his hands.  It had been high on power; the taste of this young wizard’s life-force was intoxicating.  Combined with the magical essence coursing from the ARC engine, the sensation had been overwhelming.
    Now , its skull jerked down to look into the blazing red eyes of the man it had underestimated.  Reynolt allowed a grim smile to form on his lips, before using the Arcane to lend unnatural strength to his limbs.
    As Falkshire realized what was happening, it tried to withdraw.  Steely hands broke from their shackles and gripped its forearms.  The dry bones cracked and shattered, but still it could not pull away.  Reynolt leaned forward, continuing to use his power to unleash a brutal assault on the lcyh.
    NOOOOOOOO , was all Leodyne could moan, as the negative energy that granted it immortality began to erode its existence.  The lyche’s only hope was to outlast the young wizard.
    The exchange was taking its toll on Reynolt.  While he used his gift - which allowed him to manipulate forms of energy - to deplete the lych, its effects were draining him badly.
    His jet hair began to thin and tendrils of white shot through it.  The skin around his eyes and mouth wrinkled, his cheeks became sallow.  If he held on much longer, the energy would continue to prematurely age him, eventually killing him.
    After what seemed an et ernity, the lych succumbed.  Its skeletal body withered and cracked to dust, while swirling motes of blackness erupted from its skull.  A keening howl escaped from the shattered cage of its torso, nearly eclipsed by the whining of the ARC engine.
    Spots formed in Reynolt ’s vision as he held on, waiting for the final traces of the undead wizard to be obliterated.  He slumped to the floor and nearly lost consciousness.
    As his vision returned, he let the last bits of dust from Leodyne’s bones slip through his fingers.  He lifted his head, an effort that raised protests in his enfeebled muscles.
    All around him the laboratory was in chaos.  Vibrations from the still- pulsing engine were rippling through the room.  Books, vials, and other arcane paraphernalia were toppling to the floor. 
    Windows were cracking as the magic Leodyne had used to strengthen them fled.  Reynolt knew that the tower would not withstand much more of the ARC engine’s power.
    As he stood, he noticed the crumpled forms of the lyche’s thralls.  It was then that he felt the energy of the ARC engine growing out of control. 
    Despite the danger, he took a chance and reached out to