Page 38 of Vasmora

With a smirk, Zevander swiped it up and shoved it into one of his belt loops, then followed after Dolion.

Against the dark, stone wall of Eidolon’s west wing, Dolion drew a massive circle with his finger. “Now, give me a moment. I need to concentrate.” The old mage held out his palm, and the circle wavered, glowing and expanding, as he stepped away from it. “There was a … small cabin in the woods.”

The older man was quiet for a moment, focused.

Until, at last, the view on the other side shimmered to life, revealing a dilapidated cabin in the woods, just as he’d said.

Zevander stepped forward, but paused at a tug on his arm.

“Stay safe.” Rykaia clutched his hand, staring up at him. “And make sure that rotted hag suffers.”

Zevander gave her hand a squeeze, then released her and stepped through the wavering portal to the unfamiliar, dark stretch of woods on the other side.

A thick fog clung to the trunks of the trees, the mountains looming in the distance, where the land curved around the water’s edge. Half-hidden at the fringes of the gloomy forest stood the cabin Dolion had mentioned. Nothing but a ramshackle hut in the thick of a clearing ahead, the roof sagging under moss and lichen. A passerby might’ve thought it abandoned, the way it appeared unkempt, set apart from the small village at the foot of the mountains in the distance.

He approached cautiously, eyes scanning the trees, ears perked for the slightest sound, a shift in shadows. A faint crackle from behind would’ve gone unnoticed by less keen ears, but Zevander shifted, jerking his head to the side, only narrowly escaping an object whizzing past his face.

He merely glimpsed the arrow meant for the back of his head as he drew his sword with an unmatched swiftness that brought the stranger sneaking up beside him to a halt. Blade only a hairsbreadth away from the stranger’s neck, Zevander studied the mask covering the upper part of his face. Made from wood bark and twine and decorated in pine needles, he’d have never discerned it from the surrounding brush. Dangling from the man’s fist hung a homemade bow crudely carved from branches.

“How dare you trespass and draw a blade to my throat?” He spoke in a raspy voice that held the slightest hint of a regal Solassion accent.

“Had you not sent an arrow for my head, my sword would’ve remained at my back.”

“What is your business?”

“Are you familiar with the Gervarys name?”

“I am.” With his face still hidden behind the mask, only his voice lent any indication that the man seemed both confused and intrigued. “Who are you?”

Zevander lowered his sword, slipping it back into its scabbard. “Dolion sent me. An acquaintance.”

“Sent you for what?” Whether through habit, or not, every word the man uttered seemed to hold an edge of suspicion.

“I need passage across the Australius. To Luximos.”

The man blew a breath and shook his head as he stepped in the direction of his cabin. “Can’t help ya.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

“Bit of both. I only sail locally these days. Too many damned pirates. And dragons.”

A rutted path led to a jutting dock, where a quick scan of the mist-shrouded cove showed a gabensza moored in the distance. A single-masted boat, about sixteen meters in length, not typically sailed by one person unless a bit of blood magic was employed. But good for transport and fast.

“I have plenty of coin,” Zevander offered.

“Do I look like I need coin?”

Zevander inwardly groaned. “Allow me to be clear. I’ve little time and even less patience. You’ll either sail me across the channel for coin, or I’ll sail myself.”

The man halted mid-stride and slowly turned around, his expression concealed behind the mask. “Are you threatening thievery?”

“I’m threatening far worse, if you continue to waste my time.”

“And just who do you think you are?” He threw back his mask and Zevander froze. Deep wrinkles in his weathered skin had aged him far too much to be his old friend, but his curly white hair and blue eyes could’ve fooled Zevander.

“Theron?”

The moment the man’s face crinkled to a frown, Zevander hesitated. Gods, not another hallucination.