Raymond E Feist Vk 【8K】

Pug looked at his hands. The blue light was gone. So was most of the color in his face.

Pug didn’t answer. Instead, he began walking back toward the distant torchlight of the patrol’s camp.

“What happened?” Tomas breathed.

Pug smiled. It was a strange expression on a face so young. raymond e feist vk

“Pug,” he whispered. “Get us out of this.”

“Orders,” Tomas said, though even he didn’t believe that was answer enough.

“For how long?”

Tomas glanced sideways at his friend. The boy he’d grown up with in Crydee had changed. There was a stillness now behind Pug’s eyes, like the surface of a deep well. The magician’s hands, bare despite the cold, rested on the pommel of no sword. He carried no blade.

Or might have been a name: Varek .

“The King’s road,” the grey figure repeated, savoring each word. “There has been no King here for a thousand years. You are standing in the ruins of Ithrak’s Fall. The ravens are not birds. They are the unburied dead.” Pug looked at his hands

Varek tilted his head. “Impressive for an untrained hedge-witch. But you are not strong enough to unmake what was built before your grandfathers’ grandfathers drew breath.”

Not one raven—hundreds. They descended from a sky the color of old lead, settling on the bare branches of thorn trees that had not been there a moment before. Pug stopped walking.

Pug raised one hand. A faint blue light kindled between his fingers—witchfire, the other soldiers called it. Tomas knew it for what it was: raw magic pulled from the fabric of the world itself. Pug didn’t answer

“Tomas. Look.”