The Crimson Assault (WarMage Redux Book 8) by Martha Carr & Michael Anderle

Author:Martha Carr & Michael Anderle [Carr, Martha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2022-04-11T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

From the moment Rafu had first deconstructed his glinting silver spear made of valdrys, a small crowd of legionaries had gathered a dozen yards from Dr. Welby’s tent. The glowing silver light was visible from the opposite side of the Legion base.

Anyone who caught even a glimpse of the magical glow through the canvas walls found it impossible to ignore. Within minutes, the legionaries from multiple divisions had doubled their numbers outside the tent. In hushed tones, they speculated with their neighbors about what could possibly be taking place inside between Mage Alby, Dr. Welby, and their foreign guest from across the sea.

As Rafu began his demonstration with the flower—which, of course, none of the legionaries could see—the pulsing blaze of silver light returned. It shone through the canvas walls of the tent, grew brighter every few seconds, and illuminated the silhouettes of three people seated close together around the glow. It wasn’t hard for anyone to identify Rafu’s shadow since from the legionaries’ vantage point, his silhouette was at least twice the size of the other two.

A moment later, the brightest silver glow yet blazed inside the tent.

“Would you look at that,” Dr. Welby exclaimed in awe.

“I can’t believe this is even possible.” Mage Alby’s voice carried toward the training field with as much enthusiasm.

The light grew brighter, pulsed, and flashed as a fourth completely unrecognizable silhouette grew in the center of the light show.

“And it maintains its original composition.”

“Well, of course it does. He’s merely telling it to get bigger, right? Rafu?”

At that moment, the silver light exploded with erratic flashes and rocketed around the inside of the tent. The shouts of two mages and one foreign dignitary rose to a fever pitch.

“I’d say that’s quite enough, Rafu.”

“Yeah, feel free to stop it anytime. Rafu!”

“I am trying.” The warrior growled in frustration.

“You said this would work!”

“I said I would show you how this is done. But now it takes a life of its own and—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! That’s way too big!”

“If we don’t get a handle on this now—”

“Chui, the potion.”

“Yes.”

The walls of the tent shuddered violently and made all the silhouettes dance in mad bursts of silver light as whatever grew inside the tent reached the ceiling and kept going.

“Hey, no hurry or anything,” Mage Alby shouted. “But your tent’s about to be ripped apart by Rafu’s little demonstration if you don’t—”

“Here!”

The tent walls were almost ripped from their stakes in the ground before whatever pushed at the center of the ceiling disappeared.

At least, from the legionaries’ vantage point, that was what it looked like.

The immediate danger was over, but the collective sigh of relief shared between the shelter’s occupants went completely unheard by their military spectators outside. They had already broken into uproarious laughter and now exchanged joking comments with great enthusiasm.

“Hey, hey. Two mages and an islander walk into a tent…”

“I never saw the tent rocking like that when it was only Mage Alby and the Doc!”

“They had to see what the Malendesh is

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