Dragon's Tongue (The Demon Bound) Read Online Free Page A

burn, or bitterness on the tongue, while a demon found the workings of human magic sometimes so overly sweet and cloying as to make one ill. Only blood magic lacked the sugary taint.
    Which was why Vagner was rousted from his lone observation by the scent of a mageborn spell. A rift opened not far from where the demon kept watch. He could tell it had been cloaked to hide it from other mageborn because it felt muted, and as he turned his attention towards the source, he saw two figures who stank of mageborn essence, and one rather familiar to him.
    Ah, yes, Vagner thought. The young one who could not hide his own essence well.
    Strange that two would be leaving the keep by this secret method. Normally, mageborn, unless traveling long distance, used the front door of the place. But as Vagner glided closer to observe the pair, he was struck by the thought that such a deception could only mean one thing.
    The one who cast the spell had cloaked it, so he obviously did not want to be noticed by those within the keep. That, Vagner thought, might just be to his own advantage. For if they planned to leave unnoticed, surely they would return in the same manner. And a clever demon who was so masterful at disguising himself would likely find a way to slip back in with that cloaked spell and enter the fortress of Dun Gealach unnoticed.
    The two didn’t look to be going on a long journey, and demon curiosity being an unquenchable matter, Vagner decided to follow. It had to be more interesting than hanging around this place, hoping for another means of entry to present itself.
    Vagner quickly shifted to his own shadow form and slid along the edges and cracks of buildings to follow the pair. The one with the fiery hair had cast a spell to keep them from getting wet, and another filled the air with warmth. The younger of the two seemed quite amazed and just a little nervous. He cast his eyes back over his shoulders more than once. Must be sensitive to demons, Vagner thought. I’d best keep my distance.
    They wandered down the streets, making turns that took them into the Lower Edge of Caer Keltora, and there, they entered a tavern where the essence of man almost made the demon’s mouth water. Warm light exuded from the place, which would mean hardly a corner to hide in.
    Vagner slipped off the edge of the guttering of a building, and into an alley. Picking up a handful of pebbles, he shifted into the form of a young man who looked like he might have a bit of coin to spare. The stones became silver sgillinns in his hand, and he pocketed them with a smile. The tavern owner would not discover that he’d been paid with stones before dawn when the spell would wear off. And then, he was more than likely to believe one of his servants had been into the till.
    Grinning, Vagner stepped out into the street and lingered but a moment at the tavern door before he pushed his way inside. His two mages were easy enough to find. The older ushered the younger into a corner by the hearth. Several buxom wenches suddenly rushed at the fire-haired one, lavishing him with their attention. The younger looked a little uneasy.
    This was going to be interesting, the demon decided. Selecting a corner that afforded him a view of the room, he caught hold of one of the passing wenches, gave her a customary squeeze and ordered an ale.
    ~
    Alaric had a feeling he was being watched. He told himself that it was a silly notion. No one here knew him. Still, as the wenches jockeyed for Fenelon’s attention, Alaric looked around the room and searched for the source of his unease.
    There was a bitter taste in his mouth just now. He had noticed it as soon as he stepped through Fenelon’s gate spell and into the street. Fear? Surely not. Who would have bothered to follow them? Even Alaric could tell Fenelon had cloaked his spell so well it barely left a trace of itself on Alaric’s nerves.
    “Come, ladies, let me introduce you to the finest bard in all of Ard-Taebh, Master