Crypt of the shadowking - Mark Anthony [68]
Almost carelessly, the shadevar struck back toward Caledan. His swing had left his side unprotected, and now the creature's talons dug deep, cutting through leather and flesh as though they were butter. Caledan cried out in pain, stumbling backward.
Suddenly there was a pounding of hooves as Caledan's mount, Mista, lunged forward. The gray mare reared onto her hind legs, then brought her forehooves crashing down on the shadevar full force. The creature tumbled backward, rolling halfway down the hill. It lay still for a moment, then slowly it stirred and began to crawl up the slope.
Caledan groaned, sinking to the ground in Estah's arms. He clutched his side as blood welled up thickly through his fingers. Mari fumbled with her crossbow, her hands numb. It took Ferret's help to get it loaded again. Tyveris was chanting a prayer to his god, a powerful ward against evil, but Morhion held up a hand, interrupting him.
"Do not waste your breath, monk," the mage said. "The shadevar's magic will smash your ward as if it were made of glass."
"I suppose you have a better idea?" Tyveris growled.
Morhion lifted his hands, the queer, dissonant language of magic tumbling from his tongue. The shadevar was on its feet again, picking up speed as it lumbered toward them. The mage pointed a finger directly at the creature's feet as he spoke the last word of the spell. There was a clap of thunder, and then the earth beneath the shadevar shook, tearing apart. The creature stumbled on the edge of the pit that had opened just behind it, but somehow managed to keep its balance. It took another step forward.
The hiss of a crossbow bolt sliced through the air, and the shadevar clutched at a shaft protruding from its throat. The force of the blow knocked it backward. The shadevar lost its balance and tumbled into the rift in the earth that the mage's magic had created.
"Kalgaval" Morhion shouted, and the rift groaned shut, sealing the shadevar deep inside. The sound of thunder faded.
"Is it… is it dead?" Mari asked in a weak voice.
The mage shook his head. "No. It will take far more to slay the shadevar. Look." He pointed. Already the earth was churning. The creature was trying to dig its way out.
"We have to flee," Tyveris urged. He lifted Caledan to his horse. Estah had bound his wound with a makeshift bandage, but already it was stained crimson. Caledan's face was pale.
The others mounted, then guided the horses down the steep slope toward the ravine. "We must ford the river," Morhion shouted to the others. "By its nature the shadevar cannot cross water. Its magic prevents it."
The horses splashed across the stream, clattering up the far bank. Mari cast a look over her shoulder. There was nothing there.
The companions rode hard into the westering sun, their shadows stretching out on the land behind them.
They made camp in a hollow beneath a low hill as the purple veil of twilight descended over the land. Morhion arranged several flat stones around the camp's perimeter, and on each he set a leaf, a blade of grass, or a bit of moss. He spoke several words in the eerie, fluid tongue of magic, and a pale green nimbus sprang to life around each of the stones.
"I suppose a few glowing rocks are going to keep that foul creature away?" Tyveris asked the mage skeptically. The Tabaxi had never placed great stock in sorcery. He didn't much care for the trickery of wizards.
Morhion shrugged, his face impassive. "Speak your prayers if you think it wise, monk. No ward I might conjure would be strong enough to keep the shadevar at bay. This enchantment will disguise our camp, that is all. To anyone outside the nimbus, it will seem as if there is nothing here but a patch of grass and wildflowers. But I would be the first to say this is a temporary solution."
Tyveris grunted, as if this confirmed his low opinion of wizardry.
They had laid Caledan gently on a cloak