Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Rowan was too nervous to doctor his coffee, but he did grab one of the breakfast sandwiches before settling on a gray couch that was a little too hard to be comfortable. Xavier waited until he was settled, then launched into what was going on.
“I’m convinced that this,” he said holding up the arm ring, “is a part of a phylactery.”
Rowan had heard of that before. “Like Dungeons and Dragons?”
Xavier’s smile held true humor. “In a sense, yes.”
He searched his memory. If he was remembering correctly, a phylactery was a magical item that had something to do with a powerful, dark creature called a lich. “I thought a phylactery had to have a space inside for a scroll or something.”
Xavier nodded. “They can and often do, but souls can be trapped in anything when one has enough power.”
Rowan choked on the bite he’d taken of the biscuit as he felt all the blood rush from his face. He stared at the ring. The one he’d been wearing daily since his great grandfather had given it to him at twelve. “There are souls trapped in it?”
“Yes,” Xavier said. “But they are no longer sentient, just traces of magic that the lich can use to be reborn. The jewels that were on it are also a part of the phylactery—jewels the draugr now has. I’m glad you brought this here, because it’s my plan to capture the draugr then release it to track down the lich. The lich is no doubt very powerful and could wreak havoc if completely reborn.”
Rowan was still completely stunned by the knowledge that he’d spent most of his life walking around with trapped souls in a ring around his upper arm. His stomach lurched, the bite he’d swallowed feeling like a lump in his gut. He set the sandwich down.
Ivor came to sit next to him on the couch. “You didn’t know what it was.”
“But this whole time, they’ve been there. With me. So I’ve been, what? Attached to this lich somehow?”
Ivor patted his arm. “The draugr was trapped, or that arm ring with the stones would have never gotten out of its possession. It’s not your fault, and you couldn’t have realized.”
“But I normally feel magic. It’s hard to believe I never sensed that there was that much magic tied to that thing.”
“The magic in this arm ring is contained, and it’s tied to the lich, so it makes sense that you didn’t sense anything,” Xavier said.
“Will the draugr come back after me if you release it after trapping it?”
“Not if it has the ring.”
“But you don’t want it reunited with the jewels, right? Doesn’t that give the lich its full power back? I mean, I’m just going off the lore I know from the game here. What exactly is a lich? It’s a wizard, right? Or a sorcerer?”
“It could be either. It’s someone with great power who did some really bad things in order to make that phylactery. We live long lives, but it’s possible whoever this is had reason to believe he or she wouldn’t have a long life. So they created the phylactery. It’s possible that since its phylactery has been gone so long and separated into pieces, it’s in a state of stasis. The draugr’s only directive is to get the phylactery back to it—”
Xavier suddenly stopped speaking, his head tilting for a moment before he shot up from his chair and grabbed a big green stone off his desk. “The draugr is here.”
Fear spiked through Rowan, making him stand as well as the others ran out of the room. He followed as they moved down the flight of stairs and, instead of using the elevator, opened the stairwell to the right of the elevator. He didn’t know what he could do to help—all he knew was that he wanted to be near Ivor, and Ivor was currently headed outside.
When they reached the first floor, a loud scream sounded from outside. There were windows, and the door was glass, so it was easy to spot the draugr, which was slamming its body against an invisible force field several yards from the front door.
Ivor burst through the door and sped toward it, drawing out his daggers as he ran, his braid streaming out behind him.
Rowan wasn’t even afraid of the draugr getting through—he was too mesmerized by the way Ivor moved. He was like the personification of grace as he leaped through the air and swung his daggers down. One of them sliced clean through the draugr’s shoulder, severing its arm.
It hissed at him, spinning around to face other preternaturals who circled it. It must have realized it couldn’t win this fight because it misted away. Rowan’s gaze darted left and right as he waited for it to reappear like it had the first time he’d seen it, but it never did.