Pool of Radiance_ Ruins of Myth Drannor - Carrie Bebris [113]
Kestrel again cursed the cult fighter who’d destroyed Loren’s Blade. Mundane weapons could not so much as scratch Mordrayn with that barrier in place. She scanned the ledge for something-a sliver of the shattered sapphire, perhaps-some makeshift weapon with a little magic in it that she could use to attack the sorceress.
The memory of another blue shard stirred her thoughts. Borea’s Blood. She’d all but forgotten the ice knife from the frozen Rohnglyn in the dwarven dungeons. She withdrew Borea from her beltpouch.
Coughing spasms seized her friends as the foul cloud reached them. Athan’s bark came from nearby-he must be close to the top of the rope. Unfortunately, Kestrel wasn’t the only one to notice his proximity. Another green ray shot from Mordrayn’s talon, disintegrating the rope. Moments later, the clatter of armor sounded below.
Mordrayn chortled. Her glee vanished, however, when Ghleanna’s voice rang clearly through the virulent mist. Ozama’s boots had spared her from the poisonous fumes.
The archmage cocked her head, listening to the words of the half-elf’s spell. “What’s this?” she mumbled, frowning in concentration.
Kestrel clutched Borea’s Blood, afraid it would slide right out of her sweating palm. If she could penetrate whatever invisible barrier blocked their missiles, the archmage’s revealing attire left numerous critical areas vulnerable to attack. Its only useful feature was the stiff leather collar around Mordrayn’s neck. Her chest, her stomach, her upper back-all lay exposed. And those heels! Kestrel hoped the woman would trip over them.
Mordrayn apparently recognized Ghleanna’s incantation and commenced a counterspell. Kestrel took a deep breath. It was now or never.
She made a running leap at the archmage, knocking her to the ground as she plunged Borea’s Blood into her stomach. Mordrayn’s eyes widened in shock. Black blood welled out of the wound until the ice knife glowed white, freezing the blood and surrounding tissue. Kestrel yanked the weapon out and prepared to strike again.
Mordrayn, though, recovered more quickly than Kestrel expected. With an inhuman shriek, the archmage raked her enormous dragon claw down Kestrel’s face.
Searing pain ripped through the rogue’s cheek and neck. Kestrel rolled away, somehow maintaining her grip on Borea’s Blood. Within moments, the fire gave way to an icy numbness. She couldn’t feel her face. She couldn’t lift her hand.
She couldn’t move at all.
Mordrayn rose. Kestrel lay helpless as the towering archmage wordlessly drove her stiletto heel through the thief’s right palm. As she heard bones crack and saw the heel pierce her hand from front to back, she found herself grateful for the paralysis. At least she couldn’t feel Mordrayn’s torture.
A sound arrested the cult leader’s attention. From what Kestrel could see, the cloud had evaporated. If her ears judged aright, both Athan and Corran now scaled the wall, still trying to gain the ledge.
Another arrow whistled through the air. Mordrayn ignored it-to her detriment. When the shaft embedded itself in the archmage’s thigh, Kestrel recognized it as one of the bronze-tipped bolts Durwyn had received from the baelnorn.
Fresh anger distorted Mordrayn’s features. She snapped the shaft in half and flung the fletched end aside. The remaining half protruded from her leg, blood oozing around it to streak down the length of the limb. She tried to step forward, but the wounded leg buckled. She flailed to catch herself from falling. “Damn you all!” she screamed. With a wave of her hand, a volley of conjured arrows sailed back at Durwyn.
The archmage might still have her magic, but she was losing her composure. Unfortunately, Kestrel hadn’t any means of using that observation to her advantage. She could only hope the others also saw that Mordrayn was unhinged.
Athan at last reached the top of the ledge. He immediately rushed Mordrayn, but pulled back about ten feet away. He tried again to close in, but was once more repelled by an unseen force. The