The Crimson Legion by Troy Denning

Author:Troy Denning
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Fantasy - General, American Science Fiction And Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fiction - Fantasy, Fiction, Fantasy, Fantastic fiction, Science fiction, General
ISBN: 9781560762607
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast (Mm)
Published: 2008-11-03T05:00:00+00:00

"Who else could have taken the dwarven belt?" she asked, dropping her glance to the Belt of Rank. "Only Borys."

"This was given—"

"Return the body to the coffin," the wraith snapped, suddenly growing angry. "We are anxious to summon Rajaat."

She moved toward him, reaching for his shoulders.

Rikus raised his sword. "I'm not who you think."

The wraith's translucent face contorted into an expression of anger and regret. "After all we shared, you would lift your weapon against me?"

"Yes—because I'm not Borys!" the mul yelled, his exasperation overcoming the fear he felt in the wraith's presence.

"You are!" she insisted, gliding toward the mul with an outstretched hand.

Rikus slashed at her arm with his sword, but she pulled away before the blade could strike.

"Let me touch you," she commanded. "I will undo the magic that blinds you."

"And if there is no magic?" Rikus asked, hoping that he had, at last, found a way to convince her of his identity. "Will you let me leave?"

"Only Borys can light the opal," she answered. "There is no reason to keep anyone else here."

Rikus lowered his weapon, but did not sheathe it. He was far from confident that her word could be trusted, but he was even less confident that he would win a battle with a wraith.

The wraith laid her hand on the burn in the center of the mul's chest. Though he felt the pressure of her hand, he did not experience the pain he would have expected from being touched on the wound. She closed her translucent eyes, then said, "Borys, it has been so long."

"I'm not—"

The mul stopped speaking in midsentence, for her hand suddenly turned noncorporeal. An eerie tingle spread through his body. As he looked on in horror, the hand began sinking through his bone and flesh. Rikus heard himself breathing in shallow, terrified gasps, then a distraught shudder ran down his spine as her hand crept deeper into his chest.

A ghastly pain spread through his body, then he felt a morbid prickle as her fingers closed over his heart. Rikus tried to raise his sword, but found that he was too terrified to do anything but tremble.

The wraith locked gazes with him. Her eyes were glowing red. "What is this?" she demanded in a disgusted voice. "A human-dwarf half-breed, and a knight of Kemalok's filthy kings!"

Her icy fingers squeezed the mul's heart, and Rikus felt like someone had dropped a granite pillar onto his chest. The mul backed away, but the wraith's hand remained clenched around his heart. She drifted through the air after him, her body hovering above the floor like a banner waving in the wind. Rikus's heart struggled to beat against her pitiless grip, each pulse coming more strenuously and after a longer interval. He began to grow dizzy and soon even his breath came in painful wheezes.

"What of your word?" he gasped, forcing himself to look into the thing's red eyes.

She squeezed so hard the mul thought his heart would burst. In his ears, he heard rushing wind, and the bitterness of oblivion filled his mouth.

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