Bladesinger - Keith Francis Strohm [93]
Taen moved forward, executing a series of swift attacks that forced the half-orc to move backward slowly. That gave Borovazk time to drop his bow and charge in with his axe. The weapon whistled sharply as it cut through the air. Twice the edge of the axe bit into the cleric's flesh, and both times divine power blunted the force of Borovazk's attack.
As the now-familiar strains of the Song began to rise within him, Taen noticed that the cleric chanted softly beneath her breath. Senses honed from decades of disciplined practice caught the edge of power in the air. Desperately, he launched himself forward, taking great swings with his sword in an effort to strike his opponent and disrupt the half-orc's spell before she completed it. As the chant rose to a hushed crescendo, he managed to complete a feint to his right then slip underneath the cleric's guard. His blade sliced open the thick flesh of the half-orc's arm. She gave a shriek of pain which turned into the final words of her spell.
A column of flame shot angrily down from the ceiling overhead. Taen saw the swirling conflagration and dived to his left, managing to avoid most of the roaring flame. Borovazk, however, was not so fortunate. Taen heard the ranger's roar of agony above his own cry of pain as the flames engulfed him. The Rashemi fell backward from the force of the spell, his cloak smoldering in the divine heat.
Taen stumbled as well, trying desperately to catch the breath so quickly sucked from his lungs by the unearthly blast of heat. The misstep cost him dearly. His opponent leaped forward, bringing her stone mace down hard upon his unprotected shoulder. The half-elf felt bones grind and snap beneath the force of the blow and nearly dropped his weapon from the pain. Even worse, the red runic inscriptions upon the mace flared into life, sending a series of crimson energy pulses into Taen's face. He screamed as the pain from a thousand needles lancing his eyes swept through him. For a moment, a curtain of darkness fell over the world, and he stumbled forward, blinded by the cleric's mystic mace. Thoughts of Marissa at the mercy of this vile tormentor filled Taen's mind, bringing with them a rising flash of anger. He shook his head twice, and the world resolved slowly back in to place.
Borovazk and Roberc had recovered as well, and both companions pressed the cleric with deadly attacks, offering Taen a chance to catch his breath. The rigors of the past several tendays had begun to take their toll. The half-elf felt it in the sluggishness of his own body and saw it in the stiff attacks of his friends. They would need to end this battle soon. The cleric had been right; vanquishing her would be far more difficult than he had surmised originally. With a deep inhalation, Taen gathered the remnants of his power and cast another spell. Instantly, he could feel the arcane energy coursing through him, speeding reflexes and allowing him to move faster than normally possible. He had a desperate plan in mind-if only he could survive long enough to execute it.
Empowered by the magic of his spell, the half-elf sped forward, easily moving between his companions and ducking a wild swing from the cleric's mace. Roberc stabbed upward with his sword, forcing the half-orc to block the attack with her claws. Taen spotted his opening and launched himself forward, concentrating solely on his attack. Quickened by his spell, and fueled by the power of the Song that rang in his heart, Taen leaped in the air and spun, allowing his momentum to add strength to the attack. His first blow struck the obdurate stone of the cleric's mace, forcing her arm away from her body. The attack left him open, however, and he felt the sting of the half-orc's claws as they ripped through his armor and bit deep into his chest. He ignored