Crown of Fire - Ed Greenwood [92]
Mirt snarled, plucked up a stool from the wreckage nearby, and hurled it at the skull, lurching into an ungainly charge in its wake. His eerie foe bobbed again, and the stool hurtled harmlessly past it and shattered against a wall. The skull's hollow laughter rang out around the old, wheezing merchant.
Then the skull spat something at him that glowed with tiny, sparkling motes of light. Panting in his haste, Mirt dived aside and rolled on the floor-but not fast enough: some of the spittle struck his arm and shoulder.
Aaargh-acid! Gods, but it burned! Roaring in pain, the Old Wolf twisted on the floor and clutched his shoulder. It felt like slow-moving fire was crawling along his flesh: Mirt whimpered at the pain and writhed helplessly.
Unseen, the skull soared past him, heading for the stairs. The grand stair climbed from the entry hall to a gallery on the floor above, where many statues stood. Among them were warriors of Cormyr, a mermaid rampant upon a wave, and a sleeping dragon. As the skull floated amid these, a dagger suddenly spun at it, striking chips from the curved bone of its jaw- before glancing off.
The lich lord turned menacingly and saw a servantwoman on tire landing, her face white with fear. She was frantically trying to raise a sword that was far too heavy for her.
A tongue of flame slid out of one of the skull's eye sockets, and the woman moaned in fear. She swung the sword weakly at the flames, shrank back, and cried, "Tempus aid me!"
Iliph Thraun laughed aloud and struck at the woman with its whip of flames. She screamed, waving the sword ineffectually as the fire raged around her. The lich lord lashed the woman with flames until she crumpled and fell, hair smoldering. Then it flew on into the upper levels of Tessarits Tower.
At the top of the next flight of stairs, Narm and Shandril sat together on a bench, weapons in hand, uncertain of what to do as crashes and cries came up to them from below. At first, they didn't see the silently floating skull drifting up the darkened stairs. Then Narm scrambled up with a startled curse and hurled a hasty swarm of bright bolts at it.
Shandril stared at the skull. "What is it?" she asked of the world at large as Narm's missiles hit home.
Bright pulses struck bone and burst and flared around the skull, but it seemed to ignore them. It opened its mouth and spat spellfire at Shandril.
Narm leapt between Shandril and the reaching spellflames, shuddering as spellfire struck him and swirled around his shoulder. The young mage staggered, but the skull rose quickly to direct its stream of flames over him-and into Shandril's breast.
Shandril gasped in surprise. It was spellfire! Then her face hardened, and her eyes and hands began to flame. "Yes! Yesss "' the skull hissed, as she hurled the conflagration back at it. Narm lifted a face tight with pain to peer at the skull, and he gasped-it was feeding on the spellfire Shan was using on it.
Shandril hurled streams of spellfire at the thing. It chuckled, teeth clattering hollowly. She set her jaw and wove the blaze into a bright net of flames, cutting the air with so many arcs of fire that the skull could not avoid them.
The skull plunged into the fiery net and spun there among the strongest flames. Where spellfire touched it, the burning fury darkened and died. The residue slid weirdly into the fissures and gaps in the bonesall except the eye sockets and gaping mouth, which poured an ever-increasing stream of spellfire back at her.
Spellflames engulfed the girl, raging and roaring. Shandril shuddered under the attack-every inch of her seemed to be trembling uncontrollably-and then struggled to advance against the skull's stream of spellfire. Her eyes were narrowed to slits, her face contorted with pain.
"Shan! Nooo!" Narm screamed, but