Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four: ‘Bind ye, in confidence...’
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It was all Hector could do to keep track of what was happening. First there was fog, then there wasn’t, then there was again. Then there was water flying everywhere, then glass, then ice--and all the while, a half-invisible man barreled through everything. So much of it blended together that he wasn’t even sure how to approach any of it, let alone if he could make any sort of difference. His instinct was no.
But he’d felt this way against Darktide, too. So he tried to think. If Garovel were conscious, what would he tell him to do? The same as before, probably. Be patient and watch for an opportunity. Be ready to act as soon as an opening presented itself.
But that was assuming that one would present itself. The pessimist in him was beginning to win out. It was apparent enough that this Caster Egmond guy was using destruction with pan-rozum--the familiar sound was a dead giveaway--and against that, Hector didn’t see very many options other than running.
Which was what they were doing. He stuck close to the Elroy kids, mainly just trying not to lose sight of them. At least they seemed to know where they were going.
But then something heavy flew up from behind them and sailed over all their heads, dispersing the fog in its wake, and Hector heard it crash against the wall ahead of them. A bit more running, and they saw what it was.
Lord Asad. Battered half to death. Broken bones stuck out of his flesh, twitching and adjusting themselves, struggling to regenerate as the man tried to stand. His tattoos burned with golden light, snaking off of his body like flames as his neck cracked back into place.
“Move!” Asad yelled, and a sudden glass wall shoved Hector and the children out of the way of the oncoming Marauder.