Soul Bonds Book 1 Circles of Light series by E.M. Sinclair Page A

result from the slightest error – a sorely beset stomach being the very mildest of these.
    Rhaki added a small quantity of wine – the very best from the distant South Land vineyards, and stirred the potion with a long sliver of bone. Laying aside the bone, he lifted a thin curved blade in his right hand while he turned the hopper with his left. The blade sliced down through the hopper’s breast and Rhaki’s fingers were seeking through the chest bones for the beating heart. He held the heart above the goblet, squeezing every drop of blood from it. Tilting his head, he swallowed the heart and raised the goblet to his lips. He drained the potion then turned to a smaller table where he sat gazing steadily into a bowl of glassy black stone. He put his bloody hands on either side of the bowl and stared into its emptiness with total concentration.
    ‘Shardisi! Your Master is ready to speak to you!’
    Inside the bowl, the blackness swirled as if a finger stirred paint. Colours flickered through the black, whirling dizzily. Gradually a scene began to clarify, becoming the interior of a cave of ice. Several white shapes appeared in the scene, slowly taking more solid form. A shaggy faced, hulking beast glared at Rhaki, whose body sat empty and rigid at the table in his stronghold. His spirit form was in the presence of these Shardisi, looking, he knew, completely solid. The terror plain in the yellow eyes made a mockery of the bared fangs and clenched claws of these slow-witted creatures.
    Rhaki stood before them, calm and relaxed. One by one, the Shardisi fell to their knees, whimpers of fear replacing the snarls.
    ‘Two will try to pass through your lands – small creatures of two-leg tribes. They may have Dragons with them.’ Fear boiled off the hairy bodies at his feet. ‘There is nothing to fear from Dragons, my fearless ones! The two-legs I would speak with, so you are to capture them for me. I repeat, they are to be brought to me alive or you will feel your Master’s anger.’ Moans came from the now prostrate Shardisi. ‘Look at me Shardisi, look at your Master!’
    Slowly and fearfully, yellow eyes lifted to look at Rhaki. He spread his open hands towards them. ‘Please me, and I will give pleasure to you.’ His form wavered, and winked out, the Shardisi now groaning and sighing as ecstatic pleasure pulsed through their ungainly bodies.
    Rhaki stirred. He was slumped at the table, his outstretched hands empty, dropped beside the bowl. His heart raced and his head ached. Forcing himself to his feet, he poured a little wine into the goblet, swirling it around before drinking it. He took a soft cloth and wiped the goblet clean and dry before placing it beside the amplifying bowl. Such an expenditure of power always drained him utterly. But creatures such as the Shardisi had to be approached thus, they took notice of nothing more subtle.
    The hopper’s corpse Rhaki wrapped in another rag and took with him as he wearily left the room. It was a great effort to climb the passage back to his library and he sighed with relief as the rock door slid silently shut behind him. He doused the flame in the lantern and removed the cover from a glow lamp over the fireplace. He tossed a couple of logs, and the hopper, onto the embers of the fire and removed his cloak.
    Outside the other door he found a large tray with covered dishes from which arose the inviting aroma of roast meat. He stooped, biting back a groan and making a mental note to have a higher bench put beside his door, and returned to his fireside with the tray. Despite his fatigue, he made himself eat the hot meat, and drink some of the spiced wine, to restore a little of the energy he had lost in contacting the Shardisi.
    He ate some cheese and found himself going over recent events yet again: the death of Jerak, whose power all believed to be the strongest of all, yet he, Rhaki, had destroyed Jerak with his cunning and his superior craft. Then the first