Free Dragon's Tongue (The Demon Bound) by Laura J Underwood Page B

whisked Alaric on through the doors.
    ~
    That was too close , Vagner thought as he dove for the ground and waited. The young one was overly sensitive to demon essence. Vagner had barely managed to get himself below the level of the towers in time. He could only hope the other one had not sensed him too.
    Vagner had taken raven form to hide among the many. Keltora was full of the scavengers. Whole flocks of them roosted about the King’s city, and Vagner figured one more would not be noticed.
    Of course, he had discovered ravens had terrible singing voices. Rough as sandstone, they sounded. Still, the demon had not been able to resist qworking a few strains of “The Merry Lad of the Lea” as he flitted among the rooftops.
    He had already circled Dun Gealach twice when he felt a familiar essence invoking a spell that was not hidden, and had been pleased to see his quarry was returning to the nest. But there was still the problem of getting to him, and it would do no good for the demon to be noticed now. The young one would likely become suspicious and avoid coming outside if he thought the demon was waiting for him.
    But wait I must, Vagner thought. Tane Doran would be displeased if the demon failed to return with his quarry. So he winged past the walls once more and settled himself atop one of the gatehouse towers when he felt it was safe enough to return. From here he would have a fine view, and be well away from the demon-sensitive wards.
    His perch also overlooked the outermost bailey and the practice yard where a group of young guards were trading blows with swords and targe. Their movement seemed almost clumsy to the demon. But then, there were few men alive who had sufficient reflexes to battle a creature like himself. Vagner would have smiled at that thought, but raven beaks did not lend themselves to curving up at the corners.
    With a sigh, he qworked a few strains of the melody to “The Lass Who Loved the Heather Downs” and waited for his victim to reappear.
    ~
    Fenelon led Alaric into the musty gloom of the great library of Dun Gealach, and while Alaric could feel a number of wards, he sensed no real magic in this place. This puzzled him, for Marda had spoken of the number of items of power that were supposedly housed here. So where were those powerful items, those scrolls that gave off the scent of magic as much as parchment?
    Fenelon stopped long enough to ask one of the mageborn at the entrance a question. Alaric noticed the fellow’s eyes slid briefly in his direction, and heard, “So he’s the one…” But whatever that conversation entailed, Fenelon apparently was not willing to listen to more gossip than necessary. He merely waved the mageborn librarian aside and motioned for Alaric to follow.
    They slipped through a number of book-lined corridors before Fenelon stopped at a door where the words “Old Maps” had been carved into the wood in neat letters. He opened this door and peered inside before going on in.
    “This is where the demon gated out from,” Fenelon said quietly. Alaric assumed it was because he sensed other mageborn in the area working with various tomes, but no one else was in this library. “According to Master Whitlow, as near as they can tell, the demon took a copy of a map that showed an unknown section of Ranges known as the Shadow Vale.”
    “Unknown in what respect?” Alaric asked.
    “Well, it was copied from an original, and that map came from a cache of things found in the possession of a bloodmage who died rather nastily back a few hundred years ago.”
    “How nastily?” Alaric couldn’t resist asking.
    “He lost a mage battle with one of my ancestors,” Fenelon said and grinned. “At any rate, the map showed the area known as Shadow Vale. Alas, no one knows where Shadow Vale is exactly, but there was something about the map that convinced the librarians to copy it and place the original in hiding. Now there should be another copy since our librarians know full