Duncan smiled faintly. “Are you trying to tell me you’re dabbling with heretical alliances, Cousin?”

“Possibly,” Morgan murmured.

He glanced wistfully at the dueling area again and smiled as Kelson countered a particularly noxious beast from the nether regions, then shifted his attention to the seal on his left forefinger and began to concentrate. His eyes glazed slightly as he entered the first phase of the Thuryn trance; and as soon as he was well under, Duncan, too, began to gaze at the seal. The priest entered rapport easily and let his thoughts merge with those of his kinsman, letting himself be carried along the current of Morgan’s mind, lending support and strength when called upon. At his very elbow, Nigel was not even aware of this new development.

Meanwhile, for Kelson, time seemed to stretch interminably. The succession of beasts and beings, real and mythical, which he had both battled and conjured, seemed like a half-remembered nightmare in the dark of some long-ago night. Drathons and wyverns, caradots with their waving tentacles, gryphons breathing fire, lyfangs, Stenrects like the one he had seen in the garden (at least the remnants of one)—the list seemed endless. Even now Charissa was conjuring up some new terror that he must thwart. He straightened slightly and forced himself to focus more closely, for he suddenly had the distinct impression that Charissa’s latest spell was not nearly as routine or academic as the ones before had been.

Even as her fingers moved in the strange new series of passes, Kelson had the chilling impression that this spell was a darker one than those preceding it. He strained to catch all her words as she began the incantation.

Spawn of Dagon, Bael’s Darling,
Heed my call, which bids thee here.
Child of Thunder, hear my order.
Come: I charge thee to appear.

Smite this brash, ambitious princeling.
Shroud him in a cloak of flames.
Help to wrest the usurped power
Which Charissa justly claims!

As she spoke, a rumbling of thunder rattled the air before her, and a dense black vapor began to condense into a tall, shadowy form, vaguely manlike in shape, but with scaly hide and long claws and teeth.

As it stood there for an instant, blinking confusedly in the brighter light than that to which it was accustomed, Kelson clasped his hands before him, but a chilling sensation rippled along his spine as he realized he did not have the proper counterspell at hand. As the creature recovered its wits and began ambling toward him, Kelson began several spells haltingly and without effect.

Mawing and shrieking its defiance, the creature continued to lumber slowly across the circle, dripping blue vapor and flames as it came, its eyes burning a fiery red that flashed points of light throughout the cathedral.

As the creature reached the half-way point, Kelson began to panic.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN - “You placed on his head, O Lord, a crown of precious stones. ...

CHAPTER FIFTEEN