Ghostwalker - Erik Scott De Bie [108]
The barbarian tried to bring the gyrspike down anyway, but his limbs would not obey his mind's commands. With agonizing slowness, he sank, limp, to the ground.
"Rest, peaceful as the grass in the meadow, my murderer," Walker whispered over his shoulder as he drew the sword out from between the barbarian's ribs. He recovered his throwing knives, wiped them on Bilgren's hide armor, and slid them into their sheathes.
Only one murderer left-one last haunting face that chilled him at night, one last sword to face, one last heart to still.
Then a sphere of cold energy crackled around him, and Walker froze.
The black-cloaked Talthaliel descended before Walker's eyes and smiled at him. Memories of pain and hatred fled from the ghostwalker, replaced by an oath for being distracted, and he realized that the one who killed him did not have to be one of his hated enemies.
"We meet, Spirit of Vengeance," said the moon elf. "For the first-and last-time."
CHAPTER 21
30 Tarsakh
Walker hacked his borrowed long sword into the bubble of force that contained him-a slash that would have split Talthaliel's head-but the barrier held firm. The throwing knife he had palmed fell, bouncing off the crackling sphere and sliding down to Walker's feet as though down the inside of a bowl.
In the face of this black-cloaked mage, Walker's supernatural determination vanished and he felt his strength and endurance fleeing. This was not one of his enemies, and that left him at a severe disadvantage. He chopped and slashed at the bubble again and again, but the sword rebounded from the force each time and vibrated in his hand enough to numb his entire arm. He saw the spirit of Tarm outside the bubble, but he knew calling to the spirit would do no good.
"Do not trouble yourself, Rhyn Thardeyn," came a voice from outside the bubble. "My magic is quite impenetrable."
The ghostwalker lowered the battered sword, and stared into Talthaliel's eyes.
"Interesting," the seer said, as though he had just observed something and was probing to see if Walker had as well. "Ah, well. It is not relevant." The diviner shrugged. He continued, putting aside whatever he had found interesting. "I regret interfering with your quest, Spirit of Vengeance. You have fought valiantly, as befits your training and skill, but your fight against the Lord Singer is over."
"Your master deserves death," Walker said. "Release me."
"Please; the Lord Singer is not my master." The tiniest flash of irritation crossed his face, but Talthaliel's words remained even and solid. Walker felt a tiny chill-he had rarely met one who could suppress his emotions so forcefully. "Regardless, you are right. But, for the moment, I do his bidding, and that bidding means your defeat."
"Then you have me," said Walker. "My quest is at an end." He lowered his head. "Kill me then-if you serve such a villain."
Talthaliel didn't flinch.
"Actually, I have a different plan for you."
Walker met the elf's gaze, his eyes confused.
Talthaliel shrugged. "All is occurring as I have foreseen. I have but to borrow a few moments of your evanescent time, then we will escape the Lord Singer's clutches together, though we shall never meet again in this world."
Walker furrowed his brow, but accepted without fully understanding. He felt, rather than saw, that the diviner meant him no harm-even encouraged his quest.
Hope flickered, but not at the thought he might defeat Greyt. Rather, this meant he might see Arya again-
Sitting, Walker folded his legs beneath him and closed his eyes.
"In the next moments, would you like me to tell you of your past life? What I have seen and you cannot remember?" asked Talthaliel. "This may be your only chance."
After a long moment, Walker shook his head. "Rhyn Thardeyn died fifteen years ago," he said. "Whatever you would tell me of the past would mean nothing to me now."