Morana flew east toward the haunted lands, her three unconscious prisoners in a black soul force bubble behind her. A black bubble. She smiled every time she saw an example of her new power. Connor had finally kept his promise and transformed her into a warlock like him. The pain had been exquisite, the results beyond her wildest dreams.

She felt no pain, hunger, or thirst. She could run naked through a blizzard without using her powers and have no discomfort. Her physical strength had increased as well. Not as much as Mikhail’s, but still far more than anything she’d ever experienced before. The change made her feel more like an ally instead of just a tool.

Of course that was no doubt entirely in her own mind. Connor hadn’t shown any more interest in her after the transformation than he did before. Her duties hadn’t changed much either. She still worked out of Port Valcane. The main difference was she had to keep more to the shadows and back ways. Any sorcerer she encountered would know at once what she’d become. It was still a small price to pay for the increased power.

Below her the Barrier Mountains streaked by. Morana turned north toward the cavern where Connor had set up his new base. The shock of entering the haunted lands punched her in the chest. Her power started to drain at once. She needed to transport the prisoners to the cavern quickly. Connor would be angry if she arrived with corpses that couldn’t generate soul force.

Ten minutes later Mikhail’s armored form became visible outside the cavern entrance. Morana descended quickly, brushing past the black knight and gliding inside, giving him no chance to speak, thus sparing herself an unpleasant conversation. Despite her transformation, Mikhail still didn’t think much of her power. It would have been interesting to see which of them would win in a real fight. Morana feared it wouldn’t be her.

Her master’s presence descended from the chamber above. Connor landed in front of her, his expression cool as always.

“No problems, Morana?”

“No. They hardly even put up a fight. The urn is an amazing weapon. I see now why you wanted it so badly.”

“Indeed. Let’s see what you brought me.”

Morana gestured and the bubble vanished, spilling her three unconscious prisoners on the stone floor. Connor examined them with a faint look of distaste. “Not terribly impressive. The woman is strong at least, but the boy is hardly worth the effort of hooking up. Still, every little bit helps I suppose.”

Connor pointed at the prisoners and bands of dark energy surrounded their wrists and ankles, lifting them off the floor. He flew up a level and Morana followed. It never ceased to fascinate her when he connected another sorcerer to the matrix.

They stopped ten feet from a weathered old man with a gray beard who hung limp and unresponsive. The boy drifted over against the crystal-covered wall. When his wrists touched the blue crystal it grew around them, forming a sort of shackle. The moment the bindings had formed his soul force flow shifted from his core to the bindings. The power ran up and away as fast as his body generated it.

Connor repeated the process with the other man then the woman. Morana allowed herself a moment’s relief at Connor’s lack of reaction to the beautiful woman. It wasn’t just her that didn’t interest him.

When he’d finished his work Connor turned to her. “Excellent job as always.”

Morana beamed. “Thank you, Master. What should I do now?”

“Take Mikhail and return to the city. More prey will be arriving soon, assuming my agent knows what he’s talking about.”

Morana’s smile withered. “I don’t need his help. With the urn I can defeat any kingdom sorcerer.”

“This is no ordinary sorcerer and I’m not asking your opinion. Now go.”