Pool of Radiance_ Ruins of Myth Drannor - Carrie Bebris [89]
Kestrel felt her heart skip a beat. “I think Jarial is working on something.”
Faeril released a groan. “Tell him to work faster.”
A moment later, Jarial finished mumbling.
“Oh!” the cleric exclaimed. “Kestrel, Jarial… you can let go.”
“W-what?” Kestrel stared at her in shock.
“I’ve boosted her strength,” Jarial said.
Kestrel looked from him back to Faeril and reluctantly loosed her grip. Faeril rose to a crouch, some of the strain gone from her face. “Help me lift him,” she said to Corran in a steady voice.
As the others watched in mute amazement, the cleric rose to her feet, bringing Durwyn’s legs with her. Had she been taller, she could have lifted his whole body over the edge, gripping him by the ankles like a plucked goose. As it was, Corran guided the warrior’s chest and head over the edge of the staircase while Faeril pulled him to safety.
“Damn…” Kestrel muttered. Magically boosted or not, she’d never seen a woman perform such an incredible feat of strength. Her voice was swallowed by the wind, which had changed direction and now carried a chill. The sun sank lower behind the horizon.
They continued up the stairs with as much haste as they could. Ahead, Kestrel saw a circle crowned by bony-looking spires. The dragon’s spine, Anorrweyn and the Protector had called it, and now she understood why. The spindly arches looked like the vertebrae of a great beast. They rose toward the darkened sky, somehow untouched by the missiles that had bombarded the stairs. The circle had to be their destination.
The higher they climbed, the more the wind buffeted them about. By the time they reached the apex, their hair whipped about their faces and they had to shout to be heard. Lingering rays of sunlight streaked across the sky.
The party entered the circle with more desperation than reverence. Runes and intricate knotwork, similar to what they had seen inside the Hall of Wizards, covered the stone floor. About ten feet above, the bony spires arced toward a central hollow just large enough for a certain gem.
“Let’s do this and get out of here,” Kestrel said. Though she scanned the shadows, she saw no sign of the priestess. “Where’s Anorrweyn?”
“We’ll have to wait for her,” Faeril said.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kestrel detected movement in the near-darkness. She turned, scanning the sky. More wings, and lots of them. “We don’t have time to wait.” She pointed. “There’s a whole flight of gargoyles coming at us! Put the emerald in place!”
Corran hesitated. “We don’t know the-”
“Just do it!”
The wind had become a gale, speeding the gargoyles closer each second. In the light of the dying sun, Kestrel could see a sinister gleam of hatred in their eyes. They hurled themselves at the party with frightening velocity.
Boosted by Durwyn, Corran slid the emerald into its setting. The gem caught the last ray of light just before the sun faded from view. The beam sparked a glow in the emerald that immediately radiated in a sphere so large as to encompass the entire Speculum in a pale green aura.
The gargoyles, too fast and too close to change their course, slammed into the intangible field. Their bodies bounced off the barrier like hail.
“Such creatures of evil deserve nothing less,” said a soft voice behind them. Anorrweyn had materialized. Despite the force field, wind still whipped through the stone circle so hard that Kestrel and others had trouble staying on their feet. The ghost, however, appeared to exist in a state of perfect calm. Not a strand of her hair was disturbed.
Durwyn stared up at the green bubble surrounding them. “Is that the Mythal?”
“Nay, merely a force that protects us from predators whilst we conduct the incantation ceremony,” Anorrweyn said. “Let us begin.”
They parted to let her advance. When she reached the center of the circle, she offered a brief prayer to Mystra, then raised her hands toward the emerald and closed her eyes. “Qu’kiir vian ivae, qu’kiir nethmet.” Her voice