Wild Sorcery - Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Postcript

It took little enough time for the Cabal to finish with the rest of the Sorcerers. It was only behind the walls of their fortress that they had been safe. Now that the Cabal had penetrated those walls, the Sorcerers were taken by surprise, cut down one by one or fled.

Eventually, the God of the Malformed Ones came to find me. I still sat where I had fallen, holding my head and groaning.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I feel all... funny,” I replied.

“Here,” he said, kneeling beside me. “May I?” he placed his hands upon my head and closed his eyes.

A feeling of wellness fell over me, and I sighed in relief. But when he opened his eyes again, they were troubled.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Your curse,” he said. “It is, well. . .”

I stared at him, and somehow I knew what he was about to say.

“The burst of magic affected both you and your curse,” he said. “Valorious’ curse is now...  joined to you, like an alloy. I cannot release you from it.”

Somehow, such news did not strike me very hard. Certainly not as hard as I thought it ought to. So I simply nodded. “All right.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

I shrugged, drew a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I suppose this is how it is.”

He nodded, then hesitated. “But what of the Stone Sorcerer?” he asked.

I rose to my feet. “Follow me,” I said.

I led him down from the platform and across the arena to where she stood, still bound and naked. She stared nervously at us as we approached.

“Mhmm?” she murmured questioningly.

“Here she is,” I said. I unfastened her leash from the stanchion and handed her over to the God of the Malformed Ones. “But there’s been a slight change.”

“I can see that,” he said, looking over her new body with a grin. “Thank you.”

He led her away, leaving me alone.

Or, not quite alone. Telammosiel walked up to me, a smile on his perfect lips. “How fare you?” he asked.

“Well,” I said, deciding not to tell him everything.

“Good!” he said happily.

I took another look at him. The Angel’s chiseled face was marred by a short cut across his cheek, and his long mauve hair was streaked and clumped with blood. The slash of a blade had left a cut across his chest, also cutting open his shirt and revealing his broad chest. But his full lips still smiled welcomingly and his midnight black eyes were still warm and merry.

“Tell me,” I said said. “Have you any plans after this?”

He nodded, clearly understanding what I was driving at. “Yes, I must return home,” he said regreatfully. Then he grinned and held out his hand invitingly. “But not immediately.”

I held out my own hand, and he took it in his firm grip, and we strolled away together.

The End