Depths of Madness - Erik Scott De Bie [22]
"No!" Twilight shouted.
With the warlock down, the rest of the wights redoubled their efforts, battering at the defensive ring of adventurers like an angry sea against a fortress sculpted of sand. Without Davoren's eldritch might to bolster them, the weakening warriors would fall.
Twilight stared. The others were fully occupied with their struggles-none could save the warlock, if any had the motivation-and yet she stood frozen. She stared at the wight who would destroy them-that familiar auburn hair, that smeared axe…
The other mage-wight, having apparently exhausted its spells, chose that moment to rush her. Liet jumped in the way, slashing at the beast, but it elbowed him aside, bearing down on its chosen foe.
Only instinct saved her. Twilight met the wight with a high stop thrust-a defensive stab the creature slapped aside. She danced back, weaving, parrying its dagger-sharp claws. She didn't care if it beat her defense. Without Davoren's magic, they were dead anyway.
And Arandon…
Taslin knew they were lost. Her powers faded, and without the warlock, no matter how dangerous he was, they had no chance. They had been fools to follow Twilight's lead-they believed such a child could keep them safe?
Then Taslin heard a wheeze, and she knew what was happening. Asson-her weak Asson, though he had no spells or even a decent weapon-would save them. Perhaps he recognized the threat to them all if Davoren did not rise, perhaps it was instinct, or perhaps he felt compassion for the warlock.
Whatever the reason, the wizened mage took his staff in both hands. He smashed the glowing crystal into the wight's head as hard as his aged muscles could drive it. The hard oak did little damage, but the magelight seared the creature's eyes. The wight flinched back from its battered prey and Taslin's heart leaped.
It lunged for Asson instead, jabbing dagger claws deep into his belly. With a sputter, the old mage crumpled, and so did Taslin's heart. Corellon's aura might keep his soul, but his body could die just as easily as any man's. She watched, horrified, as the wight closed it jaws on his ankle, and he screamed.
"Asson!" screamed Taslin. She tried to summon up Corellon's power to smite the beast, but she felt not even a tingle. She had exhausted it all.
Then the mighty Gargan spun and hacked at the wight, yanking its shattered head from its withered body. Wights piled onto his back, clawing and scrabbling. Taslin couldn't reach Asson, so she plied her sword, trying to hack the beasts off the goliath.
The warlock rose shakily to his knees. Blood smeared his neat goatee, but the hate burning in his eyes did not allow him to look weakened. Davoren roared and Hung his arms out wide.
A curtain of red and black flames screamed into being around the group, slicing open wights like a burning blade. Creatures fell in pieces and chunks, the ends of limbs cauterized black from dried blood. The ruby light burst in the darkness like an angry star, almost blinding Taslin. She looked at Davoren and saw his ruby eyes gleaming madly, caged in furrows of black blood. He laughed, hysterical. The wights screamed, burning.
The priestess could not tear her gaze away. Which was the real threat?
Blinking to clear the spots from her bleary eyes, Twilight missed a parry. The wight caught the blade over its arm, threw the rapier wide, and lunged for her throat.
Then a blade burst from the wight's chest, and the creature froze. Not knowing the source of her luck but not questioning it either, Twilight took a single step back, put her sword in line, and rammed it through the creature's heart and back out in one movement. Its chest seeping, the