Masquerades - Kate Novak [168]
In the nightmare of endless slaughter Alias began to lose track of time. A few of the beasts had managed to evade her sword long enough to slash at her back and arms or sink their teeth into her legs. The wounds were all minor, but they burned like fire. She tried not to think about how much she was bleeding.
Then came the moment she knew she was doomed. Her legs would not move-something held them frozen. She slashed downward with her sword, but the blade thunked against something hard at her hips. She looked down to find herself encased, just as the shard of Verovan's soul had been, by the mist of unformed manes, which had hardened into a pearl-like shell.
The swordswoman switched her weapon from hand to hand, trying to keep the manes from reaching either side of her body, but she was blind at her back. One of the monsters sunk its teeth into the back of her neck, and it took her several awkward stabs before she managed to dislodge it.
"Alias!" Dragonbait shouted.
Alias twisted her head, her heart pounding with hope at the sound of the paladin's call.
The paladin came rushing toward her, his sword blazing with fire, cutting down manes like a farmer scything hay. Once at her side, he wheeled to protect her back. "We found the key and opened the portal. I sent Thistle out. I think the sooner we leave, the better."
"I'm stuck," Alias explained, "like the piece of Verovan's soul."
Dragonbait tapped on the casing about the swordswoman's legs.
"I didn't know manes could go hard like this," Alias said.
"The manes that make up this mist are not like ordinary manes. This planar pocket, or the years they spent trapped in here away from the Abyss, has altered them," Dragonbait said. He smashed his sword against the casing, without effect. The scent of violets wafted from the saurial's throat-the scent of his fear.
"Alias, listen carefully," the paladin ordered. "These manes are hungry for more than your flesh. They want to devour your essence-your spirit and your soul. But they can only do that if they can find a weakness-" The paladin paused to slash through another wave of manes, then continued. "They look for open wounds on your soul and spirit and drink from them like flies. You have to rid yourself of those things that make you bleed inside-"
"What's going on?" Mintassan's voice called out. The sage was drifting across the mists, flying just high enough to remain out of reach of the manes. "Lady Thistle's outside, holding the portal open. She said you might need some help."
"Can you teleport us out of here?" Alias asked.
"Afraid not-something in the makeup of this plane resists alteration magic," the sage explained. Upon spying the shell surrounding Alias's legs, he gave a low whistle. "That looks bad. Perhaps it can be dispelled," he suggested.
Dragonbait shook his head. "It's not magical. It would be more use if you could circle us with protection from evil," he said.
The sage must have already cast a spell to understand Saurial, for he immediately began circling the warriors, casting the protection spell Dragonbait had asked for. When he'd finished, the manes all began moving away. They lingered at the edge of Mintassan's magic boundary, waiting for it to dissipate. The mist, too, flowed out of the circle of protection. The shell about Alias's legs, however,
remained.
Trying desperately to conceal his own anxiety, Dragonbait spoke as calmly as he could. "Concentrate on your feelings," he instructed Alias. "Clear your heart of everything that poisons it. Verovan's soul was cut by his greed, Victor's by his lust for power."
"Victor's dead," Alias said softly. "The manes got him."
"I know," the paladin replied. He did not mention that he could feel the man's evil spirit hovering nearby, no doubt waiting to witness the swordswoman's death. "You have to let go of your anger and hatred for Victor Dhostar."
Alias did not reply immediately. She didn't