Cloak of Shadows - Ed Greenwood [129]
Men and women were rolling over and over in the grass, tearing at each other in desperate fury, one side trying to snatch weapons and the other, smaller side trying to use them.
While the two Malaugrym flew frantically away from any place where that ghostly sorceress might be able to see them, Sylune used her last forcebolt to blow apart the head of a Shadowmaster who was throttling Belkram.
As the smoking, headless body toppled sideways, Belkram rolled to his feet to find Itharr and a blood-drenched but unhurt Sharantyr doing the same thing.
They stood looking soberly at each other across the corpses.
"Well," Itharr said with a sigh, "we're back."
From out of the ruins of the manor atop the hill, something small and dark came flying. Belkram snatched up a fallen dagger to make a throw, but the object banked smoothly past him and he saw that it was a pipe. A curved, familiar-looking pipe that trailed wisps of smoke and drifted to a halt in their midst.
"Back, are ye?" The voice that issued from it was even more familiar, and as testy as ever. "A fine mess ye leapt into, and stirred up further, to be sure!"
"That wouldn't be who I think it is, would it?" Belkram asked wearily as Sharantyr groaned and covered her eyes.
"Aye," Itharr replied. "It would be."
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