Frostfell_ The Wizards - Mark Sehestedt [92]
Blind rage filled Gyaidun. He stabbed, slashed, kicked, and punched.
The sorcerer caught his wrist that held the knife, twisted, squeezed-Gyaidun held on through the bones grinding, but when they broke he let go and the knife fell to the ground.
"Enough," said the sorcerer. "Time to die. Time to-"
An avalanche of snarling, whimpering fur hit them. The icy grip under his jaw slipped, and Gyaidun hit the snow and rolled free. A massive paw smashed his shoulder into the ground, then was gone. His body was a mass of pain, but Gyaidun forced himself to keep rolling down the hill. He stopped several paces down and looked up just in time to see white haunches and tail disappearing into the storm. The sorcerer's winter wolf. It was still blinded by Amira's spell and maddened by pain. It must have slammed into them.
Then the shadow was on him again, the life-draining hand gripping his throat and squeezing as the sorcerer lifted him. Gyaidun could feel the blood in his neck freezing, the veins bursting, his skin blistering and cracking from the cold. The grip tightened, and Gyaidun couldn't breathe. Darkness rimmed the edges of his vision, a pulsing mass of it closing in-
–and then Gyaidun noticed a change in the light. It seemed golden. Soft. Even warm. And he had time to wonder if he was crossing over into the afterlife before-
A shard of light struck the sorcerer's midriff. A shriek louder than boulders cracking struck his ears, and Gyaidun went flying. He hit the ground hard, and his first thought was-Why do I smell blossoms?
Gasping for air, he pushed himself up and wiped the snow from his face. Not ten paces away, the sorcerer and Amira were engaged in battle, spells flying and Amira's golden staff shining like summer's heart. It struck the sorcerer's blade, and sparks of silver and gold mingled with the blowing snowfall.
"Enough!" the sorcerer said, and he flew backward out of the lady's reach. He landed with the practiced ease of a Shou monk, then raised his hands to the storm and shouted, "Uthrekh rakhshan thra!"
The gale became a living thing, and Gyaidun felt the already frigid temperature plummet. The air in his throat thickened, choking him. The moisture in his eyes began to freeze, and his skin seemed to turn to stone.
"Kenhakye unethke!" shouted Amira, her staff held high. Warmth and light flowed out from her, pushing back the sorcerer's spell.
The sorcerer stood, arms still outstretched, and stared at Amira. Although Gyaidun could not see his face, he could sense that sorcerer was stunned at the thwarting of his magic. Enraged, the sorcerer took to the air again in a great leap, his sword raised above his flying robes.
Blade struck staff in another shower of sparks, but this time Amira did not retreat and counter. Green fire erupted in her free hand and she reached in, grasping the sorcerer's robe. Despite the wind, the magic fire caught and ignited in the ash-gray robes, and he fell back screaming. But his cries twisted into an incantation, and the wind gusted, blowing Amira back and extinguishing the flames.
Gyaidun, his broken wrist throbbing with pain, pushed himself to his feet and lurched forward. His toe struck something hard. His knife! He reached down, grabbed it, and charged. He knew he was most likely done in and nothing he could do could stop the sorcerer, but if he could add his effort to the fight, perhaps Amira could conjure something strong enough to strike him down-or at the very least buy her time to escape.
The sorcerer stood, blackened holes in his robes and cowl still smoldering, and as his charge brought him close Gyaidun could hear him snarling.
Amira began her incantation, "Keljan-"
"Hey!" Gyaidun roared, raising his knife to swipe at the sorcerer's face.
The sorcerer turned his attention away from Amira to Gyaidun, and as he did so the wind caught in his tattered and burned cowl, ripping it off his head.
Gyaidun saw the sorcerer's face for the first time. Older it was, and gaunt like a man long deprived of food, but there