Elfshadow - Elaine Cunningham [135]
A scream of frustration echoed through the temple garden. Kymil Nimesin's patrician reserve had vanished along with the hope of fulfilling his lifelong quest. With quick, jerky movements, the elf formed the gestures for the teleportation spell that would take him away from the scene of his failure.
"Wait!" Arilyn shouted. As Kymil glared murderously at her, she rose to her feet. "You haven't lost yet."
Kymil's obsidian eyes fixed upon Arilyn, hatred somehow making their black depths even darker.
"Don't speak in riddles. You haven't the wit for it," he snarled in scornful response.
Arilyn came closer, facing down her former mentor. "I renew my challenge to single combat, to continue until one of us is disarmed or disabled. If you win, I will reveal to you the gate's new location."
A flicker of interest showed in Kymil's black eyes. "And in the unlikely event that you win?"
"You die," she said succinctly.
"No!" Bran shouted from across the garden. "Many think of you as the Harper Assassin. You've got to bring Kymil Nimesin to trial or you may hang in his place."
"I'll take that risk," she said steadfastly.
"Maybe you will, but I won't," declared Danilo. "Unless you promise me that you won't kill that skinny orc-sired wretch, you'll have to fight me to get at him."
Arilyn cast an exasperated look at the nobleman. In response, he stripped off his gloves. The moonlight revealed a badly burned hand and a face haggard from the effort of casting the spell. "If you fight me, you'll have to kill me," he added softly. "I shouldn't think it would be too difficult."
His implacable tone convinced Arilyn he was serious. "I think I liked you better as a fool," she said.
Danilo would not be distracted. "Swear it!"
"All right. You have my word. I shall leave enough of him to take to trial. Agreed?"
"Done," Danilo said. "Go get him."
Arilyn again addressed the elf. "Well? What will it be?"
"The mere knowledge of the gate's location will do me little good," Kymil pointed out, bargaining, testing the limits of Arilyn's resolve.
"If it comes to that, I'll take you to it myself. I'll bring the moonblade and open the damned gate for you. I'll even throw you a farewell party before you leave for Evermeet," she said.
"Agreed." Kymil drew his sword and raised it to his forehead in a contemptuous salute. The elf and the half-elf crossed blades, and the fight was on.
Scarcely remembering to breathe, Danilo Thann and Bran Skorlsun watched the duel in awed silence. Both men were skilled fighters, both had seen and done much during their lives, but the battle that raged before them was something completely beyond their experience.
It was an incredible, mesmerizing dance of death, with individual movements almost too quick for the humans' eyes to follow. With elven grace and agility, Arilyn and Kymil faced off, each stretched to the limit by the other's skill and impassioned resolve. Evenly matched in height and strength and speed, at times the combatants were distinguishable only by color: Arilyn a white blur against the dark sky, Kymil an incongruous streak of golden light.
Elven swords flashed and twirled, and sparks from the clashing weapons shot upward into the darkening sky so rapidly that the incredulous Danilo was reminded of festival fireworks. The ringing blows of sword on sword came so quickly that the echoing clangor blended into one reverberating, metallic shriek. A small sound separated itself from the unearthly howl, and a voice began to focus in Danilo's mind. The voice spoke not with words, not with sound, and not to him. Irresistible as the song of the lorelei, the magic voice soared above the din of battle: entreating, insisting, compelling. It called for vengeance. It called for death.
With a start, Danilo realized that it was the voice of the elf-shadow. The moonblade began to glow as the revenge-bent entity of the sword struggled to escape unbidden. Even to Danilo, its demands were nearly irresistible.
Arilyn can't give in, Danilo