Excerpt from The Children of Lubrochius
Across from Ambrisia, Coragan placed his hands on the table and got right down to business. “Your note said someone’s life is in danger?” he asked.
“Possibly,” Regecon answered, leaning back in his chair. “We have another missing person issue. At this point, we don’t know if she is alive or dead or what.”
“Who is it?” Coragan asked.
“My student, Marissa,” Ambrisia interjected. “She disappeared a little over three weeks ago.”
Coragan lifted both eyebrows. “Three weeks?”
“The vampire …” Galladrin offered.
“She disappeared during the day,” Ambrisia said. “Our best diviners are working on the problem—”
“Your diviners are always working on the problem,” Coragan said. “Why is it that your magic never seems to solve the missing person issues. All it does is create questions, and I’m the one who has to sort out the knots.”
“In this case, the vampire, although most probably not the cause of the disappearance is definitely a culprit in a number of complications,” Ambrisia explained. “As you know, a vampire generates an aura of black time that interferes with divination. This aura surrounds the vampire as it moves and disrupts attempts to access the temporal continuum in which it operates creating pockets of inaccessible time as far as divination is concerned. The stronger the vampire, the stronger the aura. Lucian spent nearly a week besieging our guild house. And, as we feared, there is a great deal of temporal distortion caused by his aura.”
“So, once again your magic is rendered useless and you must fall back on more mundane methods. Namely, me,” Coragan said.
We vampires do not make easy prey. Our weaknesses are few, our strengths many. Fear is something we do not know, and death but a distant memory. So tread softly, pray to your god, and gird yourself with silver when the moons arise and night’s dark prince awakens. We fear not the wizard, nor the warrior, neither rogue, nor priest; our strength is timeless, drawn from darkness and we know no master save the hot lust of our unending hunger. We long for blood, your blood and no blade, nor spell, nor clever artifice, can keep us long from our prize. Feel our teeth at your throat, your life ebb from you, and know as darkness comes to claim you that the price of your folly is your everlasting soul.
The Children of Lubrochius:
The Sceptre of Morgulan:
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Matthew D. Ryan lives in northeastern New York on the shores of Lake Champlain. He has been deeply involved in the fantasy genre for most of his life as a reader, writer, and game designer. His writing has been featured at Aphelion.com and YesteryearFiction.com. He is the operator of the web-site matthewdryan.com which features his blog, “A Toast to Dragons,” (http://matthewdryan.com/a-toast-to-dragons-the-blog/) a blog dedicated to fantasy literature, and, to a lesser extent, sci-fi. He is the author of the dark fantasy novels “Drasmyr,” “The Children of Lubrochius,” and “The Sceptre of Morgulan,” as well as a growing number of fantasy short stories including: “Haladryn and the Minotaur,” “The River’s Eye,” and “Escape.”
My Mailing List: http://www.matthewdryan.com/cgi-bin/dada/mail.cgi
My Website: http://matthewdryan.com
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