For what seemed like a long time, all Bond Issacson could hear was the pounding of his feet through the tall grass, his own heavy breathing, and old Dougal's voice rumbling through his brain.
"First Rule - Never get involved..."
Bond hrmed to himself, and looked down at the precious cargo he held tucked into the crook of one arm, the infant's eyes wide and unblinking with fear. "Easier said than done, teacher..."
He didn't know what the servants of the Dark One were trying to bring through back there in the swamp, but he knew enough about summoning to know that it took the death of the mother to open up the portal, and the death of the child to bring whatever it was through. He had stumbled on the scene a few moments too late to prevent the first sacrifice, but was able to snatch the infant away from the scene using the element of surprise, something he was sorely lacking here.
Bond heard the shouts behind him, and knew there was no way he could avoid being spotted - clad in black overcoat and pants and white shirt, the silvered glass square around his neck and silver discs around the band of his flat brimmed hat catching the light of the moon as he moved along, the perfect target for any bowmen amongst his pursuers.
He uttered a groan of pain when the bolt hit him, slicing through the soft tissue of his upper right arm, almost forcing him to drop the living package he held. "Crossbow," he muttered to no one in particular through clenched teeth. "Beautiful..."
Bond eyed the ground in front of him - a row of rocks and scrub trees lay some hundred yards in front of him, offering some cover, but still too far away to make it before a strong bowman could cock and reload his bow, making the shot count this time.
Time to show what he could do.
Bond turned, just as the crossbowman was bringing the weapon up to bear on him again - some sort of giantkin, his strength allowing him to reload the weapon with an ease no human could manage. The others he had seen at the sacrifice, the Dark One's priest and two mongrels of goblinkind, stood close behind, apparently satisfied that the chase was about to come to an abrupt conclusion when the next bolt flew.
Bond brought the square of glass around his neck up in his left hand, stretching the leather thong that secured it to his neck a little, catching the light of the moon. The dark priest, his face lost in the shadows from his robe's hood, turned and said something to one of the goblinkin, probably laughing at the fool who expected his faith to stop a crossbow bolt, or chuckling some joke about him needing a larger shield.
"Laugh while you can, demonseed..." Bond muttered, then muttered something older, darker, words that hadn't been heard in this part of the world for a thousand years.
For a moment, time seemed to move in slow motion, as the mangiant pulled the trigger of his bow, and the bolt moved out, seeking Bond's heart. The shaft flew true - at least until it came near the mirror. For that second, at least, the surface of the glass seemed to turn to quicksilver, swallowing the bolt, then as quickly as it had come, the bolt sped back the way it came, finding the heart of the creature that had fired it.
Time seemed to return to normal more quickly for Bond than it did for his pursuers, stunned as they were by the sudden death of their fellow, and he took the chance to shorten the distance between himself and cover. He was more than three-fourths of the way there before he heard them finally recover from their shock, and expected now he could put enough distance between himself and them to give him time to figure out a plan.
Bond burst through the line of scrub, then skidded to a halt, landing painfully on his rear end, scaring his passenger even further and jarring his wounded arm in such a way that he saw stars. Before him, or more technically below him, was a sheer cliff-face some 50 feet high.
Behind him he could hear the dry low chuckle of the dark priest as he and his servants slowly made their way upon him, taking their time about it.
"I was led to believe all the Mirror Mages had been wiped out."
Bond looked at the drop below him and muttered to himself.
"Well, give me a couple of seconds and I'll see what I can do..."
Bond looked over the edge of the cliff again, then back at precious cargo he held, the infant's eyes wide and unblinking in terror, the slightest whimper escaping its throat.
The mage hrmed and tried to figure out how he was going to get out of -this- one. He knew that even with two good empty arms, he wouldn't be able to make it down the face of cliff before the goblinkin and their dark master would be upon him, and a five-story jump was out of the question. What had old Dougal ever taught him that might apply in this situation?
His teacher's deep voice rumbled through his mind after a moment. "When in doubt, bluff."
"Great advice, old man," Bond muttered to himself. "No wonder I'm the last of our kind..."
The mage shrugged, causing a stab of pain from where the bolt still pierced his arm. "Still, gotta go with what you know..."
Propping himself on his good arm, Bond watched the line of scrub that was his only shelter now. He couldn't see his pursuers, but they couldn't see him. He pushed down the pain, and kept his voice as steady as he could.
"If you know what I am, then you know what I'm capable of! So keep back or I'll burn you where you stand!"
That seemed to cause the priest's lackeys some consernation, if not the dark figure himself. He could hear the grunts of some rough tongue he had not bothered to learn, or old Dougal had been too busy to teach him, and he heard the priest answer back in kind, a short cool command, and then there was silence.
"Perhaps," the cool smooth voice answered back, just a hint of amusement in the words, "But our Dark Lord is nothing if not patient, and the death of the infant to starvation we caused will suit His purposes as well as its death under my knife, if not as fast as He would like."
Bond winced. If it was a bluff, it was a good one, and had his beat all to hell.
"Or..." the cool voice called out again.
"Yeah? I'm listening..." The mage inched his way to the edge of the cliff, surveying the ground far below. There had to be something. There was -always- something.
"If you truly are what you say, the knowledge you have would serve my Dark Lord well. Join with our cause, and I promise you spoils beyond your wildest dreams."
"And if I don't?" It was then that he saw it - the moon caught the water, reflecting the surrounding rubble and scrub. It wasn't any true type of pool, a few feet around and probably less than a few inches deep. Any gust of wind, a leaf, more than a small ripple would ruin this chance. His -only- chance. -If- his jump could clear that much distance before he began to fall.
The priest's chuckle was eerily dry. "Then my dark master will feast on two souls, and your line will pass from this world unnoticed."
Bond hrmed, and looked down at the two bright eyes that stared up at him, whispering "Do me a favor, kid. If this doesn't work, put in a good word for me wherever you end up... Tell 'em I tried, okay?"
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