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6.22

Connor couldn’t have been more pleased with his servants’ first efforts. He shook his head at the paladins’ stupidity. What were they thinking, coming out here after him? He flew through the cave with his prisoners.

Something was wrong. He laid a hand on the crystal wall. The energy flow had dropped to a trickle. What was going on? Had something happened to his prisoners?

Connor flew up to the second level and stared, stunned, at the empty slot that had once held his finest power source. Blood dripped from the intact restraint while the binding that had held the demon sword lay in glittering pieces on the floor.

He landed and examined the smashed crystal. How had the boy managed it? He must have almost severed his own thumb to get it out of that shackle. Where had he found the strength? The other prisoners couldn’t even remain conscious, much less think about escaping.

His fist slammed into the wall. Damn it! Without Damien and his sword Connor’s production of crystal constructs would drop to almost nothing. At best he could summon two or three a day now. He needed the boy back and he needed him now.

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Connor flew up to the portal chamber with his bubble of prisoners. He’d intended to take his time and make them proper sacrifices, but now he didn’t dare linger. Every moment he delayed Damien got farther away. Connor had no idea if there were other exits deeper in the mountain, but given the size of the tunnel complex he had to allow for the possibility.

If Damien found a way out and regained even a portion of his strength he could fly back to the kingdom and warn them about Connor’s army. That would be a disaster. No, Connor wouldn’t allow that to happen. He was so close to the fruition of his plan nothing could interfere.

Connor placed his hand on the Soul Burn Crystal and fed it power. He hated having to use his own soul force, but time was of the essence. Ten crystal wolves, each as tall as his chest, grew up out of the floor. Next he guided the sphere so it hung directly under the gate and crushed the prisoners inside to pulp. Their soul force streamed into the gate. A moment later the black lightning struck the wolves.

Bloody lights appeared in their eyes. Crystal lips pulled back in snarls.

“One of my prisoners has escaped,” Connor said, focusing his will on the constructs and imprinting an image of Damien in their consciousness. “Bring him back alive.”

The wolves threw back their heads and howled, a hollow, echoing sound that filled the chamber and sent a chill up Connor’s spine. The demon wolves raced off, their nails clicking on the crystal-covered path.