Extinction - Lisa Smedman [68]
The illithid, sensing that something was wrong, leaped forward, one misshapen hand lashing out, but it was already too late. The last of the bottle's contents slid across Gromph's tongue and was swallowed, triggering the spell. A ripple of magical energy passed through the room quicker than thought, leaving Sluuguth frozen, eyes bulging in fury, tentacles halted in mid-lash a finger's breadth from Gromph's face. The thought bottle hung in mid-air where it had been knocked, and the duergar axe the illithid had been carrying was frozen between Sluuguth's outstretched hand and the ground. He'd dropped it in surprise the instant Gromph's thoughts told him what was about to happen.
Gromph stood up, steadying himself with one hand on his desk as the room blurred slightly. Unsticking oneself in time was always disorienting. He felt dizzy, slightly off balance, as if the world was solid but he was not.
With his memories restored, all was clear to him.
So that was why I erased everything but a single memory, the archmage thought, that I should offer these bottles to any creature who could dominate my mind.
It wasn't because he hoped to trick the creature into drinking their contents but because he expected it to read that thought and make him drink from one of the bottles first, as a safety precaution.
Just as Sluuguth had done.
Gromph wasted no time basking in his foresight, however. He had to move quickly. The time-stopping spell was a powerful one, but it was brief. It would hold for no more than a few heartbeats. Bending swiftly, he picked up the battle-axe.
After a slight tug-inertia made the weapon feel as though it was stuck in mud-Gromph grasped the axe firmly in both hands and swung. Its blade bit cleanly through the illithid's neck, severing it with a single stroke. Pulled by the blade, blood bulged at the exit wound, but the head itself remained on the shoulders.
As Gromph laid the weapon on his desk, the spell ended and time lurched forward again. Blood sprayed against the wall, Sluuguth's head flew from his body, and the illithid crumpled in a heap. An instant later, the thought bottle thumped against the wall and clattered to the floor.
Looking down into the blade of the axe, Gromph saw a frenzied swirling as the enchanted blade added Sluuguth's soul to those it had already stolen. The illithid's face stared out in horror from the flat of the blade, tentacles lashing. Eventually it turned transparent and was gone.
"What a useful weapon," Gromph said, setting the duergar battle-axe down again. He chuckled. "Perhaps I should hang it on the wall as a souvenir."
Kneeling, he chanted the words to a spell and passed his hands over the corpse of the illithid. His palms tingled when they passed over the illithid's out-flung hand. The gold signet ring on Sluuguth's middle finger was magical, imbued with protective enchantments. He slipped it off the illithid's finger and laid it on his desk.
His hands tingled a second time as they passed over an elongated leather carrying case that hung at Sluuguth's belt. Opening it, Gromph saw a tube inside. He eased out the tube-a length of hollow bone with a plug of wood at either end-and shook it. He heard the rustle of paper. Scrolls, perhaps? He would study them later, after taking the appropriate precautions.
Laying the tube down beside the ring, he completed his pass over the illithid's body. One of the pockets in Sluuguth's robe made his palms tingle a third time. Reaching inside it, Gromph pulled out a finger-length piece of quartz that had been cut into a prism. Tiny yellow sparks danced in its depths.
Gromph had seen similar devices before. They were magical constructs of the surface elves, who needed light to find their way through the Underdark. He spoke a word in their tongue-the surface elves were so predictable and almost always used the same command words-and the prism reacted as he expected it to, shedding a pale cone of candle-bright