“And where will you go?” inquired Brakas. “There is no place for you to go now. You are all hunted men. The Khadorans will kill you on sight. The free tribes will do worse. Worst of all, the new mage will be looking for you when he arrives. You might as well make yourselves comfortable and wait for him to arrive.”

“Not in this lifetime,” snarled the Jiadin warrior as he turned and stormed towards the door. “In fact, I may just come back up here with a few dozen men to teach you a lesson about toying with the Jiadin.”

The warrior stormed out of the room, and Brakas kicked a chair across the floor. Aakuta could almost feel the fury and frustration in Brakas from his place of concealment. When he was sure that the warrior was long gone, Aakuta flicked his wrist at the door. It slammed shut. Brakas turned abruptly and stared at the door. Aakuta chose that moment to walk out of the small pocket of fog in the corner.

“You?” exclaimed Brakas. “You are the one who killed Zygor and led the Jiadin against us in Khadora. What are you doing here?”

“Aren’t you afraid that the warriors will come back up here and tear you to shreds?” asked Aakuta.

“No,” scowled Brakas. “They talk tough, but they don’t want to mess with me. They know that Vand’s mages favor and protect me. Who are you?”

“You may call me Aakuta,” the dark mage smiled under his hood as he approached Brakas. “I heard you mention that Vand was sending a replacement. Where and when will he arrive?”

“I don’t give that information out to anyone,” Brakas replied adamantly. “Who paid you to attack us in Khadora? I can pay you more to work on our side.”

“That is very generous of you,” Aakuta said charmingly. “When and where will this magician arrive?”