Chapter 19

Eastmarket District, Oldtown

Venwraek, the renegade Daoine, sat with his burn-scarred face twisted into a frustrated scowl as he gazed at the ancient scroll lying on the marble table in his suite of rooms. It had taken him and his brother centuries to acquire it—scores of decades of chasing down rumors and false leads in two different realms. Now he had it. He had power beyond imagining at his hand—and he couldn’t access all of it. The frustration of not being able to decipher the language of the scroll more quickly was slowly driving him insane. His goal was in reach. He would be satisfied with nothing less than the throne of Queen Uonaidh. Ever since he had been banished, the lust to rule Alfheim consumed him. Now it was close at hand. If he could master the elder god’s spell-craft, none could stand against him.

His damnable brother. It had been his part to master and decipher the writings of the mad monk who had channeled the ancient demonic blood spells and listed them in ancient Ogham in the tattered scroll in front of him. His fool of a brother had insisted on playing with the Shadow Walker and it had gotten him dead. What was worse, it had cost the lives of the two demon-kind sorcerers who were there to teach him how to cast the scroll spellcraft.