Crypt of the shadowking - Mark Anthony [41]
"No offense-I mean, I appreciate this and all-but you two didn't plan this escape all that well, did you?" Ferret asked.
"Well we don't all have your extensive experience with escaping," Tyveris rumbled angrily. The big monk stood on the edge of the bridge and spread his arms in a mirror image of the priest of Cyric. He began chanting in a flowing, musical language, trying to drown out the evil priest's dark prayers. The gigantic statue stepped closer to Caledan, wounded guards crushed unnoticed beneath its feet. The statue of the king was still rising from its throne, reaching toward its full height, five times that of a man.
"Andebari al Oghma, al d'bai altanl" Tyveris roared. "In the Name of the Binder, may evil's enchantment be shattered!"
Suddenly the priest of Cyric let out a strangled cry. The circlet about the stone queen's brow flared brilliantly, shattering into countless splinters of stone. The statue halted Then slowly, almost gracefully, it toppled to the street smashing the cobbles as it struck, shaking the very foundations of the city.
But the statue of the king showed no such reaction. It continued to move toward Caledan, who dangled halfway up the rope.
"Hurry, Caledan!" Tyveris shouted down. His face looked ashen and haggard. "I dispelled the magic coursing through one of the statues, but I don't think I can break the enchantment in the other!"
Meanwhile, the priest of Cyric had regained his composure, and his chanting rippled forth once again as he gripped the steel amulet.
"Allow me," Ferret said. He took the knife Tyveris had used to cut the prisoners' ropes and hefted it experimentally, testing its weight. Then he let if fly with a precise, expert throw.
The priest's chanting abruptly stopped.
The flabby disciple of Cyric slipped from the back of his horse, Ferret's knife embedded deep in his throat. Blood flowed out to pool with the grime of the street. The purple glow of the amulet flickered, faded. The statue of the nameless king slowed to a halt.
Then a rivulet of the dead priest's blood trickled across the steel amulet. The dark blood hissed and steamed. The purple aura strengthened and grew brilliant once again. Blood flowed more quickly toward the amulet now, defying gravity as it rose from the cobbles to the evil symbol.
The stone king began to move, once more, toward Caledan.
"Uh-oh," was all Ferret said.
The statue of the king reached out a hand of granite to crush Caledan.
Caledan's arms were going numb. He wasn't going to make it.
"Break the king's circlet, Caledan!" Tyveris bellowed. "It's the heart of its power!"
The stony fingers, each as thick as a tree branch, began to close about Caledan. There wasn't time to think. Holding on to the rope with one hand, he drew his sword. Just as the cold, hard fingertips brushed against his chest he swung the rope forward and brought the hilt of his sword down on the circlet resting on the statue's brow.
His hand was thrown back painfully with the force of the blow. The sword clattered to the street far below. The stony fingers closed about his chest, tightening until he could barely breathe-before shuddering to a stop.
His blow had cracked the king's crown. Brilliant purple sparks flared about the dark fissure, sizzling like lightning. The violet glow wavered, then vanished. The gigantic statue lurched precariously to one side. Caledan tried to free himself from its grip, but he was stuck in its grasp. The stone king started to topple.