Koshmarnyk slowed down as Ervan turned around. If he wasn’t running, he could be preparing for a confrontation. The treacherous adept might have dealt with the guard in a direct and violent way, but Koshmarnyk doubted he would choose the same approach dealing with him. Deception was more likely, as was poison and other sneaky means of disposing of an opponent.
“You came too late,” Ervan said. “It’s all done. Myrkan is in the city. You and your demonologist gaharra have lost.”
“Do you think this will stop me from making you pay?” Koshmarnyk asked.
Ervan paled and swallowed, looking around desperately as if in search for anyone that would come to his aid. “If I die, the demon won’t spare anyone here,” he replied in a high-pitched tone.
“Not if we kill him first. Maybe we already did.” Ko
