Amber and Blood - Margaret Weis [103]
“Galdar! Come back!” Mina shouted furiously.
The minotaur kept walking.
“Galdar! I command you!” Mina cried.
Galdar did not look around. He wound his way among the black monoliths, remnants of dark ambition.
Mina glared at his retreating back, then suddenly sprang after him, running swiftly across the windswept floor. Rhys called out a warning. Galdar turned, just as Mina caught up with him. Ignoring him, she grasped the hilt of the sword and yanked it out of its sheath.
Galdar caught hold of her wrist and tried to wrench his sword from her hand. Mina lashed out in a blind rage, striking him with the hilt of the sword and with the flat of the blade.
Galdar tried to fend her off, but he had only one hand and Mina fought with the strength and fury of a god.
Rhys ran to the minotaur’s aid. Dropping his staff, he grabbed hold of Mina and tried to drag her off Galdar. The big minotaur collapsed, bloodied and groaning, onto the ground. Mina jerked free of Rhys. Shoving him backward, off-balance, she returned to the assault on Galdar, kicking him and hitting any part of him still moving. The minotaur quit groaning and now lay still.
“Mina—” Rhys began.
Mina snarled and slammed her fist deep into Rhys’s diaphragm, so deep the blow stopped his breathing. He tried to draw in air, but the muscles were in spasm and he could only gasp. Mina smashed him in the jaw with her fist, shattering his jawbone. His mouth flooded with blood. Mina stood over him, the minotaur’s heavy sword in her hand, and there was nothing Rhys could do. He was choking on his own blood.
Nightshade tried his best to keep hold of Atta, but the sight of Rhys being attacked was more than the dog could bear. She wrenched free of the kender’s grasp. Nightshade made a grab for her and missed, went sprawling onto his belly. Atta launched herself into the air and smashed bodily into Mina, knocking her down, knocking the sword from her grasp.
Snarling, Atta went for Mina’s throat. She fought the dog, using her hands to try to fling her off. Blood and saliva flew.
Nightshade staggered to his feet. Rhys was spewing up blood. The minotaur was either dead or dying. Valthonis lay unconscious on the ground. The kender was the only man standing, and he didn’t know what to do. His brain was too flustered to think of a spell, and then he realized that no spell, even the most powerful spell cast by the most powerful mystic, could stop a god.
The cold, pale sun flashed off steel.
Mina had managed to grab hold of the sword. Raising it, she slashed at the dog.
Atta collapsed with a pain-filled yelp. Her white fur was stained with blood, but she still struggled to get up, still snapped and snarled. Mina raised the sword to stab her again, this time going for the kill.
Nightshade clasped hold of the little grasshopper pin and gave a galvanized leap. He sailed over one of the black monoliths, and smashed into Mina, knocking the sword from her grasp.
Nightshade landed hard on the ground. Mina recovered herself and both of them dove for the sword, each scrabbling to seize hoold of it. Rhys spit out blood and half-crawled, half-flung himself into the fray.
But he was too late.
Mina seized hold of the kender’s topknot of hair and gave a shrp, twisting jerk. Rhys heard a horrible snapping and crunching sound. Nightshade went limp.
Mina let loose his hair and the kender slumped to the ground.
Rhys crawled to his friend’s side. Nightshade stared at him, unseeing. Tears filled Rhys’s eyes. He did not look for Mina. She was going to kill him, too, and he couldn’t stop her. Atta whimpered. The sword had laid open her shoulder to the bone. He gathered the suffering, dying dog close to him, then reached out a blood-stained hand to close Nightshade’s eyes.
A little girl with red braids squatted down beside the kender.
“You can get up now, Nightshade,” said Mina.
When he did not move, she shook him by the shoulder.
“Stop pretending to be asleep, Nightshade,” she scolded. “It’s time to leave. I have to go to Godshome, and you have the map.”
Mina’s voice