All Shadows Fled - Ed Greenwood [122]
"Burn it! Burn the things with oil!" she bellowed at the armsmen. She found her feet amid writhing ropes of shapeshifting flesh-ropes that rose to fling Khelben and Belkram together in a helpless tangle into the gathered armsmen.
The soldiers stared at Storm; who was this woman? An old woman staring at the fray from the door of the Old Skull suddenly tossed away her tankard, plucked down one of the lanterns from beside the inn door, and flung it.
It shattered, spilling oil down the tentacled bulk of Amdramnar-and Illistyl murmured the simplest fire spell she knew.
Flames flared. The oil caught, boiling up with a roar. The Malaugrym convulsed and reared, shrieking, and the air was suddenly full of oil as every armsman scrambled to find and fling any lamps they could.
The Malaugrym shrieked as flames rose around them, and through the growing roar of the flames, Belkram cried, "Khelben! Can't you do something for Shar?"
He practically dragged the lord mage of Waterdeep to his feet. Khelben blinked at him, then said grimly, "Er-eh-well, 111 try."
The archwizard looked at Sharantyr's sprawled body and raised his hands to cast a spell-only to pitch forward, falling on his face in the dirt.
Belkram stared at the man whose pike had struck Khelben down from behind: a warrior of Cormyr, who smiled coldly, shivered slightly for an instant… and became someone else.
Someone who wore doomstars at his wrist, and answered to the name of Dhalgrave.
We, the Rangers Three
Blue stones flashed and pulsed, spitting out beams that cut the air to strike Laeral and Storm. The two silver-haired women stiffened as blue fire raged around them-and then fell limply to the ground, their eyes dark.
"With the Chosen out of the way," Dhalgrave said almost pleasantly, "I can really enjoy what I came for."
The Shadowmaster High ignored an armsman's sword that thrust through him, and when another warrior thrust a torch in his face, he grew a bone spur and casually stabbed the man through the face. All the while wearing that deadly smile, the senior Malaugrym advanced leisurely toward the weary, panting rangers.
Belkram and Itharr watched him come; they grimly stood their ground, leaning on battered blades. The three Malaugrym burned behind them, and from the flickering flames a weak voice called, "Shadowmaster High! Aid, please, in the name of Malaug! I'm burning! Great Dhalgrave, aid me!"
Dhalgrave never took his eyes from the two rangers, and never paused in his slow, menacing advance. Ar-gast soon fell silent… and joined Amdramnar and Lorgyn in death.
Deep in the Castle of Shadows, in a place where thinking shadows glided, was a grotto. At its heart were two stone seats that faced each other in the bone-white glow. On one of them, something blazed briefly, then burst.
A hand promptly reached down out of darkness to pick up the largest of the fragments and sweep the seat clean,.. and a soft chuckle echoed through the grotto.
Dhalgrave stopped just beyond the reach of the two weary rangers and smiled a gloating smile at the fearful warriors, noting many Purple Dragon surcoats. "All the way from Cormyr, just to die?" he asked in mock sorrow, shaking his head.
From among the warriors, lightning lashed at the Malaugrym, and on his other flank something that looked like a white mist driven by churning human bones rose and drifted speedily toward him.
Dhalgrave simply watched those deaths come for him. The spells faded away as they reached him, and he sketched a mocking bow.
"My thanks, Ladies," he said. "Jhessail and Illistyl, isn't it?" He gestured lazily down at himself. "Unfortunately for your valiant endeavors, I wear a cloak of shadows that wards all your spells… and hides me even from the Chosen. I had to 'die' for a time to get it, but watching my underlings scramble to try to take my throne was richly entertaining compensation."
The doomstars lashed out again, and four armsmen were hurled back against