Black wizards - Douglas Niles [83]
"N-Newt – let's go! We have to tell – to tell Genna!"
"Look!" whispered the dragon.
A huge man loomed out of the darkness. Yazilliclick thought all humans were gross, ugly creatures, but even by those standards this man was exceptionally repulsive. Rolls of fat sagged around his neck, and several huge warts sprouted from his bulbous nose.
"Watch this!" said Newt, again bouncing into the air. This time he floated to the ground – right before the human!
Yazilliclick moaned softly and once again clutched his bow and arrows. He saw the man's eyes blink, as if his trance had been broken. His gaze swept across the ground and suddenly focused upon Newt. The dragon was invisible, but somehow this man could see him.
"Now, spell!" cried the faerie dragon, willing his illusion onto the ground.
The sod ripped away, and blue flames flicked deep within the pit that was suddenly exposed. A ghostly hand reached upward to grab the man's foot as he stepped forward off the edge of the pit.
But the foot landed upon solid ground, and the image of the pit quickly dimmed. Without slowing his pace, the huge figure marched right through the illusion. Unheeded, the magic waned.
Now the man pointed a finger at the annoyed fairie dragon. He chanted a word softly – the command to a spell that was definitely not a mere illusion.
But just as the magic flash exploded outward, the man cursed and twisted, plucking a tiny arrow from his shoulder. He snapped the missile like a matchstick, but the distraction had been sufficient. His bolt of magic sizzled into the darkness beyond Newt, striking one of the skeletons instead. The fairie dragon zoomed quickly upward as the skeleton exploded into a heap of crumpled bone.
"Did you see that?" Newt complained. "He ignored it! He didn't even slow down! Well, this time I'll give him a spell that he can't – ulp! Urf urf!"
Newt struggled to speak, but Yazilliclick's grip upon his snout was too strong. The tiny faerie pulled the dragon behind him as he darted high into the sky, beating his wings frantically to carry them both away from this place.
Of course, Newt complained all the way back to the grove.
* * * * *
Thick hedges of thorns stood in high tangles around the edge of the grove. The druids had worked through the day, and most of the night, raising what barriers they could.
But now the dragon and the sprite had brought them word, and the time for preparations was past. In minutes, it would be time for battle.
"You all know, of course, to seek the cleric," Genna said. "It will not be easy. I expect that he will hold back and allow his creatures to do his fighting. But if we can strike at him, we strike at the army's head. Therein, I think, lies our only chance to stop them.
"Join me for a moment of prayer. The goddess shall be with us. May her strength carry us through this fight."
"And give us victory," thought Robyn.
The druids stood with Genna near the stream. Each of them had been given a portion of the grove to defend. Genna and Isolde, together with Grunt, would stand in the center. Others stood near, men like Ryder Greenleaf, who tended a grove on the western shore of Gwynneth, and Gadrric Deepglen, an old druid who still managed to watch over a region of canyons and cliffs at the northern fringe of Myrloch Vale, near the domain of the Northmen.
A young female druid, Eileen of Aspenheight, stood directly behind the Great Druid, ready to carry messages or otherwise come to the aid of her mistress. The rest of the druids, men and women nearly three dozen strong, stood to either side in a long line. Each of the druids would be aided by some of the larger animals – the wolves, boars, and stags that would give their lives for the cause of the goddess.
Robyn would fight beside Kamerynn, Newt, and Yazilliclick. Genna had assigned her to a post far from the center, where the fighting was not as likely to be furious, but she had begged her teacher to reconsider. Her mother's staff,