Sky Pirates Read Online Free Page A

there was genuine fear in his eyes. “What have you done?” he said as he stared at his hands in horror, which had aged and curled up like claws.
    “And how … how did you do that?” de Montague whispered. “The power of the warlocks is all but gone. Where did you find this new source of aether?”
    “That took hardly any effort at all actually. Do you concede this battle or shall I finish you? I really don’t mind either way.” Patrice laughed. The low rumble of his voice expelled a vengeful satisfaction from deep within him. He looked up at the other members of the Council. “Gentlemen, a new age for warlocks has come. I have been to the darkest places in the Shadow realm. In death, the path to regaining our former power hasbeen shown to me.” The other members of the Council were staring at him in stunned silence. “Are you going to stay loyal to this weak old man while you slowly turn to dust, or will you join me so we may become strong and glorious again?”
    “Potentia Mortis,”
de Montague whispered, using his chair to pull himself to his feet. “You have the darkness of the Underworld within you. It has turned you into an abomination too dangerous to be allowed to live!”
    “Well done, Grand Master. I am pleased to see that at least you remember your lessons well,” Patrice said.
    “The aether inside you is dark, Patrice. Listen to me when I tell you that you do not know with what you meddle.” De Montague raised his arms up as if to strike. “You cannot be allowed to wield such power. The dangers are too great. So I must accept your challenge!”
    Patrice faced the Grand Master. “Very well, old man, your challenge is met. We shall battle to the death and the winner keeps what he conquers. As are the rules.”
    “Do not underestimate me. You may be strong, but you are no match for my centuries of experience of the Craft. You do not have all of me,” de Montague said with a quaking voice.
    “We’ll see about that.” Patrice raised his arms and struck out at de Montague. There was a flash of light as the two men clashed. They met with deafening force and began to swirl around the room.
    De Montague lashed out at Patrice and knocked him back.
    Patrice reeled and righted himself. A small trickle of blood ran out of his nose and across his lip. He pulled out a starched white handkerchief from his inside pocket and wiped his face. “Is that the best you can do?” he said. “A burst blood vessel in the nose? Grand Master, honestly.” Patrice was annoyed now. Instead of surrendering, the Grand Master had made himruin his handkerchief. And it was an expensive one too. He reached into the darkness that swirled within him to summon up enough power to strike. He did not like to admit it, but he was still a little unsure of his new gifts. And if he was completely honest with himself, the darkness within him scared him a little. But brute force would be enough to win him this challenge, and win he must, before the other warlocks recovered from their initial shock and came to de Montague’s aid. He had come here to exert his dominance; he could not afford to hesitate. No, the time to act was now.
    In his mind, he imagined a large ball of swirling black flames, the very same flames that had almost consumed him at the edge of the vortex in Constantinople not so long ago. That day had changed him forever. It was the day he had lost Elle. As he raised his hands to strike out at de Montague, an image of her face flashed through his mind.
    A blue bolt of energy flew across the room and struck the old warlock in the chest. De Montague gasped as he absorbed the impact. Patrice launched another blast at him. This time, bright sparks flew everywhere—de Montague was fighting back. The two men were locked in a deathly standoff for a few seconds.
    De Montague’s face twisted in agony. Sweat turned his forehead shiny as he shook with the effort of holding Patrice at bay. But Patrice held firm, slowly