The mage’s hopes sank like stepping on water. Uthad turned in his chair. He reached out a bony hand, pale with dirty fingernails, grown long with neglect and pointed to Ruden.
“Go back to Ibrenevall; do not leave that city until you find my ring.”
Ruden simply bowed, gagged once at the smell and said, “Of course, Master. I will leave immediately.”
Ruden had no real wish to make the journey to the Lost City again. But he did prefer it to staying in the Tower and being a personal servant to Uthad.
“Well, is the old bastard still alive?”
“Yes, Krato, he is still with us.” Ruden tried to put a happy emotion behind what he said, but failed.
“Now what?”
“I'll be gone for some time. Look after the Tower. Here take this pulse pendant.”
“I've never used one before.”
“If the Archmage dies b
