This extract is from Chapter Four:
Bane said, “I am on the same quest, but I cannot reveal myself. Telvaron will want to kill me.”
“Telvaron wants to kill everyone,” the greying man said. “It’s just a matter of how and when.”
“True, but he will hunt me down himself.”
Bane glanced around, steeling himself to take the plunge. “I am a god.”
The men roared with laughter for several minutes. Bane sipped his ambrosia and waited for the hilarity to die down. The grey-haired man wiped his eyes, chortling.
“I command the darkness.”
The men fell about again, hooting, and two were so overcome they slid under the table. Other patrons drew closer to share the joke. Bane raised a hand and flicked his fingers.
Everyone in the taproom froze except the five at his table, whose laughter died as they became aware of the silence. They stared about, their expressions wary or disbelieving. The grizzled man tore his eyes from the stationary scene and gaped at Bane.
“You did that? You… stopped time.”
“To prove -”
The man sat back. “Why do you want to free the goddess? If you’re a master of the darkness…”
“I fight for the light.” Bane flicked his fingers. “Resume.”
The hubbub recommenced, and the patrons who had taken an interest in the joke at his table returned to their previous pursuits after a few moments of eyeing the now-solemn sextet.
“Oy!” A bellow from across the room made Bane wince and close his eyes. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at, old bean?” Dramon shouted.
Bane shot him a glare. Dramon snorted and nudged his brother, and the two muttered.
“Who’s he?” the greying man asked.
“Do not worry about him. Do you want my help now?”
The man thrust out a callused hand. “I’m Jogan.”