by Troy Denning
"Don't break his neck." Galaeron rose. "They aren't killing, so neither should we."
Takari glanced at Aragath's body, then said, "The beholder was theirs."
Despite the bitterness in her voice, she scuttled off to join the hunched battle at the head of the tunnel. It was a strange fight, with stooped figures on both sides striking with hilt pommels and flat blades, the walls echoing with the ferocious yelling of any combat, but no one wailing in fear or grief. Galaeron was not pleased to see that his elves were winning only by dint of magic and numbers-and had the humans been willing to kill, even these advantages would have tailed to achieve victory. Determined to end the fight before someone made a mistake and turned it into a mortal brawl, Galaeron summoned to mind the incantation of his sleep spell.
"Can you fools not be silent out there?" The voice was wispy and dark and as deep as the tunnel itself. Galaeron stopped and looked to the hole in Shatevar's doorway, but the voice seemed to be coming from everywhere around him. "You have led the devils straight to me!"
The remaining humans fell silent and lowered their swords. Takari knocked one unconscious, and two moon elves slipped quickly forward to take charge of the prisoners and prevent them from restarting the fray. Galaeron used finger talk to divide his patrol between caring for his fallen archers and binding the humans, but he kept Takari at his side. He did not want the unpredictable Wood elf venting her grief over Aragath's death on their prisoners.
Turning to the nearest of three humans still standing, he asked, "Who did that voice belong to?"
The humans looked blindly about, uncertain as to who Galaeron had asked, and he realized they could see in the dark only with their swords in hand. He touched one on the chest "Who was that voice? What are you doing down here?" "No harm to Evereska," answered the man. That's all-"
The last few words were lost to the crack of a magic blast, then the cavern vanished into an instant of murk thick enough to feel. The clatter of falling stones echoed through the tunnel, almost inaudible to Galaeron's ringing ears, and his vision slowly returned, spotty and filled with strings of spidery darkness. He motioned the guards to continue watching the prisoners then turned toward the source of the explosion.
The head and shoulders of a burly human protruded through a saddle-sized cavity in the back of Shatevar's doorway. Behind the screen of silvery radiance, he looked pale and ghostly, despite what Galaeron guessed to be a swarthy complexion and hair as black as jet.
"Melegaunt?" called one of the prisoners. "Melegaunt Tanthul?"
The figure nodded, then thrust a beefy arm through the hole and shouted, "Help!"
The humans started forward at once, trying to bull their way forward despite their bound hands. It was a bad mistake. Takari laid one out with an elbow to the nose, and the other two fell to their guards' pommel strikes. Fortunately for Melegaunt Tanthul, half a dozen elves were rushing forward in the humans' place. They slowed as they passed through the silvery barrier, then caught hold of his arms and began to pull. The human slipped forward, then abruptly stuck and screamed for them to stop.
The shocked elves obeyed, and the human vanished back through the hole. There was a muffled thump but no scream.
Takari looked to Galaeron for orders, as did the elves inside the silver barrier.
Galaeron shook his head uncertainly but started toward the doorway "1 guess we should see what-"
Something that looked like a mouth surrounded by four arms shot through the hole and began to slam itself around, catching elves between its scaly head and the doorway's rocky walls. One elf tried to scream but instead poured forth a torrent of frothing blood. Another fell with her flattened helmet still on her head. The survivors tried to draw weapons and back away. The creature lashed out with its four arms, catching two of the elves by their throats and arms, then came slithering the rest of the way out of the hole.
With a spiked, slug-shaped body tapering back from its huge mouth to a thin tail, the creature was the strangest living thing Galaeron had ever seen. It had no eyes or ears but was aware enough of its foes to jerk its captives away from the two elves who had escaped its grasp. As they moved to help their comrades, a black bolt materialized out of thin air and struck one down. The second warrior fell when the thing hurled one of its prisoners into her head. Both elves fell with broken necks.
"What hell did these human bastards open?" Takari yelled, reaching down for a second sword. When her palm closed around the leather-wrapped hilt of human's sword, she hissed and dropped the black blade then displayed a welt of frozen skin. "By the Night Hunter, even their weapons are profane!"
On the other side of the wall, Melegaunt s muffled voice rose up, sounding pained and quivery as it growled out a string of arcane syllables. Something long and spike-covered floated past the hole, then the bearded wizard finished his spell. The only effect Galaeron could see was a set of scintillating shadows. "Bows-choice of arrows!" Galaeron yelled.
"What of Ehamond?" Takari asked, referring to the elf still struggling in the creature's grasp.
Galaeron started forward without bothering to answer. Of all the elves in his patrol, Takari had been with him the longest and they shared an almost instinctive rapport. He nudged her toward Ehamond, indicating he would attack and she should rescue. "When wolves mount porcupines!" she snapped.
Pushing Galaeron behind her, Takari snatched up the human sword and hurled it at the strange beast then sprang forward behind the tumbling blade. Galaeron followed close behind, his spell ready on the tip of his tongue.
The human sword passed through the silver barrier and buried itself to the hilt in the creature's squirming torso, then Takari pushed through the light and was on the creature, slashing and slicing. Galaeron danced through behind her- the barrier dragged at him like a curtain of cold spider silk- and slid over behind Ehamond. The elf was coated in blood, screaming, hacking wildly at the thing's teeth.
"Calm yourself, guard!" Galaeron dodged a claw, then caught a free ankle. "We can't help you like this."
Takari parried a claw, dodged the creature's snapping mouth, then brought her blade down on an arm holding Ehamond. The sharp elven steel bit deep, nearly slicing the limb off at the elbow, and Galaeron pulled Ehamond's right side free. Crying out in elation, Ehamond brought his own blade around and lopped off the hand still holding him. Galaeron stumbled back through the silvery barrier, dragging Ehamond after him, and saw the monster's barbed tall arc around behind Takari. "Behind-"
The barb struck her between the shoulder blades, piercing Takari's leather armor as though it were parchment Her arms dropped and her body arched forward. The tall began to pulse, pumping its contents into her body Galaeron dropped Ehamond's leg and leveled his hands at the tall then cried out an incantation. Four bolts of golden magic shot from his fingers and blasted the barb off the tail, freeing Takari to collapse back through the silver barrier. She had not even touched ground before a flight of black arrows sizzled past Galaeron to strike the creature. The first three bounced off the thing's thorny hide, but the final stuck deep in its mid-section. The archer who had fired it spoke a command word, activating its death magic.
A puckered white ulcer appeared around the wound, but the strange creature did not fall. It did not even sag.
Leaving Ehamond to scramble off on his own, Galaeron grabbed Takari and dragged her away. Her eyes were open but glazed, more shocked than frightened. Another flight of arrows hissed past, but the creature's hide turned gray and stony, and all four bounced off harmlessly The small number of shafts filled Galaeron with despair, but with Ehamond and Takari wounded and three more elves unconscious from the fray with the humans, only four warriors remained to him.
Much to Galaeron's relief, the creature stayed in the cramped cavity between the silvery barrier and the hole at its back. It snapped the single arrow that had wounded it and tossed the ends at the elf who had fired the shaft
Galaeron rolled Takari to her side and plucked the creature's bar
b from her back. The wound was already swollen and pestilent Deep in the puncture was something small and round, glowing hot scarlet in Galaeron's dark sight Knowing better than to attempt removing the thing now, he called Ehamond over and pushed Takari into the arms of the battered elf. Take her and go. If we don't follow, make a report."
"You'll follow," said Ehamond, glancing toward the strange creature. "You'd better-who'd believe this if you don't?"
With that, he pulled Takari into a cross-shoulder carry and vanished up the tunnel. Galaeron started to toss the tail barb aside, but thought of what Takari would do and threw the spike contemptuously across the silvery barrier. The creature caught it, then rose a few inches and floated to Galaeron's end of the cavity. Though it was impossible to perceive anything resembling emotion on the faceless thing, Galaeron had no doubt that were it able to attack across the silver barrier, he would be dead.
The creature was still hovering in front of Galaeron when a beam of purple magic crackled through the hole, catching the thing in the back and slamming it against the barrier. It writhed madly, loosing an ear-piercing squeal that sounded like it would bring the roof down.
"Now!" It was the same voice that had filled the tunnel earlier. "Take up my swords and kill it now!"
The remaining elves reached for their weapons and started forward, but Galaeron did not want them anywhere near the creature. "Not swords! Magic bolts." He raised his hand. "On my count… now!"
Shafts of golden magic began to converge on the creature. Some sank into its stony hide with no effect whatsoever, but most struck powerfully, hurling the thing back into the purple beam, blasting off thorns and pieces of hide. Galaeron's first spell had barely left his hand before he repeated it, firing another flurry of raw magic even as the creature tumbled away from the first. His bolts flashed through the silver curtain and met the beam of purple magic coming from the other side.
The result was not exactly an explosion. There was a flash of a thousand colors and the roaring silence of the void, then a horrid prickling and the bewildering realization that he now lay slumped against the tunnel wall. The air reeked of burning iron, and everything ached. There was a crimson ring on the silvery barrier, flickering and steadily growing dimmer as it expanded outward. On the other side of the curtain lay the strange creature, its body pocked and pitted with blast marks, strips of peeled hide showing long strips of green flesh. As Galaeron struggled to comprehend what he was seeing, the thing rose off the ground and floated over to the barrier, then stuck its head through the smoldering hole.
Galaeron's stomach grew hollow, and his stunned elves began to fill the tunnel with low groans. The huge mouth seemed to smile, then the creature floated the rest of the way through the hole. It plucked an unconscious human off the floor, then delicately pulled off his helmet.
Galaeron forced himself to his feet. "Stand if you are awake!" he yelled, reaching for his sword. "Defend yourselves!"
Only a handful of figures stirred, but it was enough to make the creature drop the human. The thing's mouth swung toward Galaeron, shooting a plume of black fog out between its teeth.
There was no time to shout a warning. Galaeron barely managed to close his mouth before the cloud rolled over him, burning his eyes and nostrils and making his lungs cry out for air. The sound of coughing and retching filled the tunnel, anguished and frightened and all too brief. By the time Galaeron could summon to mind the words of a wind spell, half the voices had fallen silent. By the time he actually uttered it and sent the deadly fog whirling down an empty side passage, the rest of the voices were also quiet.
Knowing he would be the next to fall, Galaeron did not fight the terrible rage rising up inside him. Anger bred folly, but it also bred desperate courage and mad strength, and he had seen enough of this devil-creature to know what he needed most He charged after the receding edge of the black cloud, still holding his breath and swinging his sword blindly into the murk. He felt the edge bite once, then inverted his grip and lunged, driving forward with all his strength.
The blade sank perhaps a foot before slowing to a stop. Galaeron dropped to a squat and heard two arms whistle past his head, then he jumped back and saw two more come slicing out of the swirling cloud. He pulled a glass rod from his sleeve. The fog spun away and left the creature's body floating not five paces away, his sword lodged up near its mouth. Hoping a lightning bolt would prove more effective than the rest of his magic, he leveled the rod at the thing's body and started his incantation. "Not magic," boomed the deep voice. "I said swords!"
Galaeron glanced over and saw the swarthy wizard stepping through the barrier, dark robes swirling around him like shadow. The creature whirled toward the human, twenty tiny tongues of flame already crackling on its fingertips. Melegaunt circled his hand, creating a wheel of cold blackness in the air before him, and stepped confidently forward. The flames shot straight from the monster's hands into the shadowy wheel and vanished.
Galaeron was already moving, snatching a black sword from the hands of a fallen human and leaping to the attack. Even with the leather wrapped around the hilt, it was so cold it burned his flesh, instantly turning his fingers numb and stiff. He attacked anyway, bringing the edge down two feet from the creature's tail.
The dark blade sliced through effortlessly, cleaving the tail off cleanly.
The creature shuddered in pain and whirled on Galaeron but stopped when it nearly impaled itself on the dark blade. Galaeron lunged for its throat, nearly dropping his weapon when the thing pulled back and his frozen fingers could not adjust.
Galaeron changed hands. In that instant, his armor grew so hot it began to glow, filling the tunnel with eerie pink shadows and washing out his dark sight. He screamed in agony but rushed forward slashing wildly The creature had no choice except to fall back-straight into Melegaunt Tanthul.
The wizard pushed forward, driving the thing onto Galaeron's blade. It gave the same pained squeal it had earlier, but he could hardly hear it over his own wail. He found the strength to twist the blade and drag it along as he fell.
A pile of green entrails landed on the dust before him, and the creature drifted slowly to the floor at his side. Galaeron screamed and rolled away, fumbling for his dagger.
Melegaunt Tanthul placed a restraining foot on his stomach, then kneeled at his side. "It's dead. Well done, young fellow. Now hold still." The wizard passed his hand over Galaeron and spoke some strange magic, and the armor cooled. "Better?" Galaeron nodded. "What-"
"No time for talking. There are another dozen on the way." The man pulled Galaeron to his feet, then gestured at the hole in the silvery curtain. "And now they can get at us." Biting back a scream of pain, Galaeron asked, "They?" "Later, or well be as dead as everyone else."
The wizard started to pick his way through the bodies. Elf and human alike, their faces were contorted into masks of anguish, their chins covered with beards of red froth.
Melegaunt stopped beside Shatevar's deflated body and pointed at Vala's legs. "That one's still alive. Bring her."
Though the wizard looked capable of carrying his own wounded, Galaeron pulled Vala from beneath the eye tyrant. Much to his astonishment, her chest was rising and falling with breath, just as the wizard had said it would be. Galaeron loaded her over his shoulder and started after the wizard, paying no attention as her black sword dropped silently into the dust.
Melegaunt spun on his heel and pointed at the weapon. "Her darksword, you fool." "1 can't carry it." Galaeron displayed his frozen palms.
The wizard stepped closer, running his gaze over Galaeron's face. "What are you doing here?" he asked, seeming to notice Galaeron's pointed ears for the first time. "You can't be of the Granite Tower…"
CHAPTER TWO
20 Nightal, the Year of the Unstrung Harp
In the month of Nightal, the sand winds turned wild and bitter, sweeping in from Anauroch full of stinging grit and stabbing cold. At night, no elf in uncloaked armor could long abide their frigid
blasts, yet Galaeron's scalded flesh raged at the extra weight of his thkaerth wool cloak. His hands, still dead and white from touching the black sword, had moved beyond pain to agony, and even that did not seem punishment enough. Takari sat slumped on a big human horse, so weak and delirious that Ehamond had to sit with her. Ehamond himself was webbed with claw slashes and puncture wounds. Nimieye and Dynod remained uninjured, having stayed outside the cairn to guard the prisoners, but they would have to scout ahead, and one or both might yet fall to some dragon or griffon drawn by the smell of so much blood. The rest were gone. Of the seventeen elves who had entrusted their lives to Galaeron's command, he had lost thirteen. For such a failure, he deserved more punishment than a simple scalding-far more.
Galaeron fumbled the last binding over Vala's foot and jerked the loop tight then wrapped the end around her boot and stirrup. When he pronounced a mystic word, the line snaked up her ankle, fastening her into the saddle. He did not realize how hard he had tugged until the magic line, taking a cue from his angry yank, cinched itself down so tightly that boot leather bubbled between its coils.
"The line will tighten if you pull." Galaeron normally preferred to let captives discover this for themselves, but he feared the line would crush Vala's ankle if it grew any tighter. "It can be removed only by the one who put it on."
"Is that so?" Though the binding had to hurt, Vala's pale eyes betrayed no hint of pain, only cold ire. "Then 1 suppose I mustn't try to escape."
The edge in her voice suggested she had no intention of escaping, not until she repaid Galaeron for the deaths of her men. Though it was a vengeance she would never have, she could at least take consolation in the price he would pay to his own masters. Not since the days of Kiinyon Colbathin had a patrol of tomb guards taken such losses-and never along the Desert Border South, the quietest of any area the tomb guard patrolled.
