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knuckled hands, beckoned to slice. To slaughter. To destroy. The blade started to move.
    Scorch’s torrent of power came to an abrupt stop. His jaw dropped. His head snapped back with wide-eyed horror.
    Venir caught sight of Melegal. Somehow the rogue had managed to ram a dagger into Scorch’s back. Venir’s mind let out a triumphant cry.
    Yes! You dirty rat!
    Helm still throbbed. Danger.
    Venir felt the hold on his body weaken and took an exhilarating step forward with his axe half swinging. His limbs seized up again.
    Bish!
    Scorch rose with a tired, aggravated, and evil sneer on his face.
    Venir could feel the man’s rage.
    Run, Melegal, Run!
    Striking quicker than an arrow’s flight, Scorch buried the dagger hilt deep in Melegal’s chest.
    The thief collapsed, bleeding out on what was left of the floor.
    Venir’s jaw became unhinged. “Nooooo!” Powered by the armament, his massive frame busted out of his unseen bonds. His steps were slow. Agonizing.
    Scorch turned to face him. “Impressive.” The sound in his voice was rough. The hole in his body sealed up. He cleared his throat. “Much better. Now—”
    Venir still moved, straining against an invisible pool, thick like molasses.
    “It’s striking that you are still moving. Interesting. You must be the one the underlings fear so much. It seems your armament gives you a tactical advantage.” He slid out of Venir’s path and pushed Brool’s point away. “One can’t be too careful.”
    Muscles bulging and popping, Venir kept charging through the force. In his mind, Helm screamed for vengeance.
    “Hmmm, seems that it would be best if I removed from you this mystical vesture.” Scorch lifted a brow. The lines in his forehead creased.
    The armament remained. Its power coursed through Venir’s mind like a raging river.
    Scorch threw his arms up. “Impossible! It has a will of its own!” His face beaded in sweat. Worry filled his eyes. Desperately, he searched all around. “Ah!” He marched over to where the mystic sack lay and picked it up. He eyed it. “How clever. Such well-concealed power. And if I can’t control it, I must destroy it.”

 
     
    CHAPTER 16
     
     
    The City of Bone. A gemstone of coal in the world of Bish. Floating high above its great stony walls, Sinway chuckled. Below his robes and feet was nothing but mayhem. Carnage. Sheer terror. Their screams were delightful. Tingling to his ears.
    “Oh how much I enjoy it.”
    He gazed down at the hordes of people on the other side of the wall. Their decrepit ranks were dwindling now. At one time they had come to Bone to find refuge from the underlings sowing discord throughout the outlands. Now that enemy was within. Master Sinway clutched his fist.
    “I relish it!”
    He floated downward and landed on one of the parapet walls.
    Underling warriors, dark haired and bright-eyed, took a knee. Many were tattooed with skin carvings. Others, pierced with bone and strange shaped metal. All fierce, cruel, and loyal to the end.
    Sinway let out a chit.
    The underlings got back to work. They cranked back a small catapult then loaded a human man’s body into the scoop. They covered him with pitch, set him on fire, and launched him head over heels into the crowds gathered below. The body smacked full force into a man riding a horse. The underlings burst out in chitters and loaded another body into the scoop.
    On the ramps, bodies of men, women, and children were being hauled up in carts and wheelbarrows. Sinway had ordered a hundred deaths a day until he said stop. He wanted Bone devastated. Its population of men and women exterminated. Bone was his. Now and forever.
    A ruby-eyed commander in a tunic of black leather approached. He saluted. “Master Sinway, are you pleased?”
    “No. I see bodies flying, but I don’t hear any screams.” He narrowed his iron eyes on the commander. “Bind them. Burn them. Launch them alive.”
    ***
    Elypsa led the way through a narrow series of caved