The Accidental Archmage: Book Seven (Dragons and Demons) by Edmund A.M. Batara

Author:Edmund A.M. Batara [Batara, Edmund A.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2019-12-17T22:00:00+00:00

***

Weird. Not once did Lumeri mention Asag. Come to think of it, he appeared to be ignorant of the presence of Adar’s own magical entities, mused the mage.

Tyler assumed the scribe knew about the magical fauna and flora of Adar. He would be foolish not to notice those things as he traveled throughout the world. Even Viracocha had one guarding the entrance to his temple at the ruined city.

The only conclusion Tyler could gather from the situation was the scribe wasn’t supposed to know of it, nor did powers like Hrun and Rumpr want him to learn about them. After all, Lumeri’s mandate covered only those who came from the First World.

Even if he did come across the Ancients of Adar, there was nothing his protection could do against the raw power of the ellri. They could easily wipe his memory of any encounter. It was their world, after all. Or an ancient bond had already been laid on him against learning anything about the Powers of Adar.

It’s not that far-fetched a scenario, thought the mage.

As he reflected about Lumeri’s current demeanor and the inordinate interest the cursed scribe had shown in him, the door of the tavern creaked open once again. Even from a distance, the mage could see the surprised reaction of the barkeep and the other guests.

Three visitors in a row. Must be some sort of a record for this dump, decided Tyler.

But when the guests and the barkeep saw who it was, they promptly returned to what they were doing.

The Greek, observed the mage, noting the embroidered chiton didn’t give room for guessing. And a deity.

The being was a mousey little man, roughly middle-aged, with shoulder-length hair kept in place at the back by a bit of cord. It was a person you wouldn’t even notice. He had a beard and a hooked nose, but the facial features which grabbed the mage’s attention were the eyes. Shifty and untrustworthy as hell. The mage wondered if the observation arose because of his enhanced acuity. Or if the loathing arose because of the entity’s affiliation with Iapetus.

Astrid did say Dolos was the Greek god of trickery, but he doubted if the deity would appear as he did now to an ordinary human. Nobody would speak to him, much less touch him with a dory. The Greek glanced at them and then made his way toward their table. Without any preliminaries, the visitor joined them, sitting in the chair Lumeri had vacated. He stared at the faces before him, examining each and every individual. Tyndur started to rise up. The newcomer’s rudeness was arrogance, insult, and derision all at the same time.

“Tyndur,” the mage murmured. The einherjar sat down.

An amused, crooked smile appeared on the Greek’s face.

“I am known as Poniria, and it is my displeasure to meet you all. You have been a great inconvenience to my lord, and I am sure this exercise is but a waste of time. But orders are orders,” said the being smugly.

“You dare call yourself cunning?” Astrid spoke up, clearly insulted.

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