A Dragon's Ascension - Ed Greenwood [122]
Those great fangs came down, inescapable… and Sarasper darted his snout right into its gullet, wedging those jaws apart. Cruel fangs bit at him, and bit again, trying to close and savage and crush, but failing.
Then the Serpent tried to draw back, but it was coiled around Sarasper, much of its bulk pinned under him, and his neck was long enough to keep his head wedged into the Serpent's maw. Angrily, desperately, he breathed fire.
Again it was feeble, a ragged spitting of flame that flared white for but a moment-but it went in deep, and there were squallings and rumblings somewhere in that vast body. Around his head, the Serpent's jaws opened as it shuddered uncontrollably.
With a growl that shook all Flowfoam, Sarasper Codelmer breathed fire once more-and the world exploded into purple, white, and red-gold flame, forever…
The Serpent exploded, and Sarasper with him, in a wet and roaring maelstrom of spattering flesh and searing gore-and as it rained down on everything and Raulin sobbed in terror, the air was riven by the hoarse, raw scream of every last Serpent-priest.
Staggering to his feet and blinking through gobbets of Serpent-flesh, Hawkril saw priests capering up in the shattered, roofless gallery. Some were barking and drooling aimlessly, and others were running in circles. Some stood as still as statues, except for their tremblings and whimperings-and others leaped down into the throne chamber, howling, to their deaths-or ran at jagged spars of broken rock in the galleries, trying to impale themselves. The rest clawed and bit at each other in a bloody, reckless frenzy, literally tearing each other apart as he stared.
The Dwaer-wielding high priest reeled among them, but those watching numbly from below saw his Stone flash-and a shielding sparkle into life around him.
Another priest's body flowed and shifted as they watched, taking on the likeness of an armsman-and just for a moment, but dearly, Embra saw the glimmer of an awakened Dwaer cradled in one of his hands. Feverishly she called on her own Stone to weave a swift tracer, hoping the shapeshifter-a Koglaur?-hadn't laid a trap for anyone trying such a thing…
Craer ran up the tallest heap of stone, a sloping slab left behind by Sarasper's struggles, and sprang into the gallery. A dagger flashed from his hands at the shapeshifter as he landed, and he sprinted in its wake, bounding forward to pounce-
–as a Dwaer flashed, and the false armsman vanished. Craer struck empty floor, hard, and skidded along on his elbows until he met with a wall.
Then Embra shrieked as the counterspell she'd feared flared up from her Dwaer and slashed at her with whirling flames. Reeling, she moaned in pain as her garments began to smolder-and desperately hurled the counterspell on, at the only other Dwaer nearby. Her tracer was broken, and oh, the pain…
As she crumpled to the shattered, bloody marble, trailing smoke, it was the Serpent-priest's turn to shriek. His Dwaer erupted into flames with such force that he was plucked off his feet and hurled against the nearest wall, the Crown of Aglirta clanging to the tiles.
His Dwaer spun in midair, the shreds of his shattered shielding spinning from it, tantalizingly close. In the shattered throne chamber below, Tshamarra reached up a hand-and then drew it back, shaking her head in disgust. She had not a wisp of magic left to snare anything or harm anyone.
Craer struggled to his feet, wincing, and had not yet seen the unattended Dwaer. Much closer to it, the Serpent-priest stretched forth his hand, fear and determination mingled on a face that scales were fading away from. His snout and wide jaws slowly became more human as he frowned at his Dwaer, willing it to him…
… and the tendrils of shattered magic faded from the Stone