He put one over his neck and touched the activating rune. His vision blurred as the spell took effect, surrounding him with its deflective field. He wondered how strong it was and whether it could protect him from spells and elementals as well as more normal weapons.

There was no chance of finding out at the moment so he returned to the bed and closed his eyes.

 

 

The ceiling had changed. The same men fought the same squid-faced demons only now they seemed to be getting the upper hand. The same bored gods looked on, marginally more pleased.

The door opened and Valerius entered. A small trolley moved ahead of him, motivated by elemental sorcery. It was covered in drapes from beneath which came peculiar clicking noises.

“It’s good to see you up and around. I was worried that the implant might have permanently damaged you. Nothing showed up in the divinations but there is always the possibility of a mistake.” Ulrik’s first thought was to draw the blade and spring on the wizard before he realised what was going on, but Valerius looked so relaxed and confident that he restrained himself. Perhaps the wizard had something up his sleeve. As if reading his thoughts, Valerius smiled.

“You are no doubt wondering about the new scars you have acquired.” A faint twinge of unease passed through Ulrik’s mind. He nodded.

“You should think of them as being in the nature of insurance.”

“Insurance?”

“For me. It seemed only prudent to take precautions against treachery on your part, no matter how unlikely such a contingency might prove to be in actuality.”

Valerius felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “What have you done to me?”

With a street conjuror’s flourish, Valerius removed the drapes from over the trolley. A group of alchemical bell jars lay there, their sides mirror-black.

“I would advise you to take a seat while I explain. You may find this a little shocking. I confess I do so myself. Sometimes the lengths to which I am forced to go to ensure my own survival astonish me. I occasionally wonder whether it is worthwhile continuing to live in a world that forces such dire expedients on one.”

“I would rather stand.”

“Suit yourself. Don’t say I did not warn you.” Valerius tapped the side of one of the bell-jars. A spark flickered from his rune-etched fingernail and the vessel lost its smooth black sheen, becoming as translucent as normal glass. Inside was a murky yellow fluid the colour of a sick man’s urine. Floating within it was something dark and leathery and roughly spherical. Tendrils that looked like veins that had been drained of blood drifted out from it. “I assume you do not know what this is?”

Ulrik shook his head.

“It’s something rather precious. One of the few surviving eggs of a Malashtra Demon Swarm that invaded Urath in the Eleventh Aeon. Such eggs have many uses. Their genetic matrices were used as the basis of biomancy.