Bladesinger - Keith Francis Strohm [100]
The thought of her eventual victory sent a sweet chill up her back. Combined with the heady sense of imbued power, Yulda felt as if she were truly unstoppable. Soon all of Rashemen would be under her control. Then, perhaps, she would renegotiate her deal with those abominable Wizards of Thay.
Arcane energy crackled behind her, interrupting Yulda's ruminations. She felt, more than saw, the energy from the teleportation circle and couldn't suppress a sly smile. Durakh must have finally broken the mewling elf woman. She didn't even turn to greet the cleric, wanting instead to watch the Old One realize that she had defeated him.
Again.
"So, Durakh," the witch called out, "has the druid yielded-"
Fleshrender's mental warning stopped her midsentence. Durakh had not come through the portal. Yulda spun around, summoning her arcane power with a single thought.
"You!" she screamed and let loose a bolt of pure energy at her "visitors."
CHAPTER 27
The Year of Wild Magic
(1372 DR)
Taen's vision blurred.
The sudden wrenching of his body from one place to another threatened to overwhelm his senses. He shook his head briskly, as if the violent motion would snap everything back into focus. When at last he could see make out his surroundings, the half-elf saw that he and his companions stood in the midst of yet another cave-the starkness of its gray stone relieved by the glittering incandescence of tiny minerals that reflected the torchlight like thousands of stars strewn wildly by some mad god. Taen had only a few heartbeats with which to take in the undulating expanse of the small cavern before an angry growl caught his attention.
The source of that ominous sound-a rather large snow tiger peering intently at Taen and his companions-lay only fifteen feet from him toward the rear of the cave. Though the beast still reclined languorously on the floor, Taen could see its powerful muscles rippling softly beneath stark white fur-and something else. Despite the shifting light from the cavern's flickering torches, he could make out a faint illumination surrounding the tiger. The glow seemed somehow to soften the edges of the beast's outline, making it seem less than real. The half-elf was about to signal Roberc to rein in Cavan as the war-dog's muted growling reached his ears, but a woman's screeching voice interrupted him.
"You!" Taen heard moments before he saw a weathered old crone, whose black robes had served to hide her against the cave's darker rear walls, spin around to face him. The half-elf caught sight of a craggy, face and a shock of stringy snow-white hair before he realized that the crone had unleashed a powerful wave of arcane energy, which stung his honed senses with its strength as it hurtled toward him.
Taen summoned his own power and quickly erected a wall of pure arcane force to meet the incoming attack. Eldritch energy coruscated and flared along the edges of his spell, spitting scattered power as the old woman's arcane attack met the half-elf's wall. Taen blanched at the strength of the crone's assault. Though his defensive shield held, he could already make out subtle cracks that ran through the arcane wall like tiny filaments of a spider's web. Whoever she was, the crone's power was considerable. Beads of sweat started to run down Taen's forehead. Perhaps they had been unwise to leap into the dragon's den, he thought for just a moment. Then a vision of Marissa, chained and battered from her torturous ordeal, flashed through the half-elf's mind. All thoughts of caution fled like shadows beneath the lash of the sun.
"You dare invade my sanctum," the crone screeched in a voice that sounded eerily familiar.
It took him just a moment to recognize the rough timbre-he'd heard it last beneath the citadel, before he and his companions were attacked by giant spiders. The hag of Rashemar and this decrepit witch were one and the same. Taen knew the moment the others made the connection, for he heard Borovazk's deep bass rumble