Chapter thirteenThe chests proved worthless.
The Gon, scared past caring, slowly recovered. We had lost the life of a man for nothing. Except — one of the guards, a Brukaj very heavily built, picked up a small diamond ring. His stubborn bulldog face looked sullen as the Rapa cadade made him hand the ring over.
“This is for the lord, Benormy, make no mistake!”
“Yes, Jik.”
Chan took the ring into his fingers and turned it about.
“Magic,” he pronounced. “At least, we have salvaged something from this shambles.”
Rollo and I exchanged glances. Chan was no Wizard of Walfarg. Rollo said, quietly: “In Walfarg at the time Chan was alive — I mean, well, you know what I mean — the land was soaked in sorcery. Some artifact can be given applied kharrna and function for a time.”
“I’ve never put m
