Pool of Twilight - James M. Ward [15]
The elf looked up in surprise as Briatha joined the other clerics along the wall.
"Why am I glowing blue?" she asked Kern in annoyance.
"It's a protection spell," he explained. "Be grateful. Tyr himself is watching over us this day."
"Really? Well, I can take care of myself," Listle replied haughtily. "Besides, blue isn't my color."
She drew out a pinch of powder from a small bag and sprinkled it over her head. Immediately, a silvery luminescence swirled about the elven mage. "There!" she said in satisfaction. "That's more like it."
Suddenly there was no more time for preparations. The attacking army was storming the walls.
"Loose the rocks!" Anton shouted as he sensed the first emanations of dark magic probing the holy enchantments that strengthened the gates.
Kern and the others atop the wall dropped a volley of rocks onto the throng of armored attackers below. Many raised their shields to deflect the heavy stones, but not all were swift enough. A score of enemy warriors fell to the ground, their black armor crushed, never to rise again.
An imposing figure stepped to the fore of the enemy horde. He was a huge man, and, though clad in the same smooth black armor as the others, he was the obvious leader. The heavy stones the clerics dropped had no effect on him. They flashed crimson as they struck him and exploded into harmless dust.
"Hear me, weaklings of Tyr!" the leader boomed in a deafening voice. "I am called Slayer, and I bring doom. Save yourselves an agonizing demise. Deliver unto me the tome called The Oracle of Strife, and I promise that your deaths will be swift."
"I guess they want the Hammer of Tyr, too!" Listle whispered.
Kern shook his head. "More likely the riches that are buried with it."
Slayer placed his gauntleted hands on his hips in an arrogant pose. "What is your answer, clerics of Tyr?"
"This is our answer!" shouted one of the clerics, the stone-faced Brother Edmorel. At his command a torch was thrust into a caldron of pitch, and a sheet of fire poured down on the attackers. Screams of agony rose up as a dozen warriors roasted alive inside their armor, but the burning pitch dripped off Slayer as if it were mere water.
"So be it," the huge man proclaimed. He raised a gauntleted hand, and a sizzling bolt of sickly green color streaked directly toward Brother Edmorel, striking the cleric with terrible force. His cry of agony was cut short as he began to dissolve into green ooze. In a moment there was nothing left of the cleric but a dark stain on the stone where he had stood his ground. Both Kern and Listle stared in mute horror.
Slayer muttered a dread incantation. Inky black energy swirled around him, solidifying into a huge battering ram crowned with an ogre's head. A dozen of the ebony-armored men propelled the ram toward the gates. The soft wood veneer cracked, splinters flying in every direction. The hard steel beneath shuddered but stood strong.
Again and again the battering ram pounded the gates, but the spells of protection held. The blue nimbus did not even waver. With an angry jerk of his hand, the man called Slayer banished the battering ram back to the shadows from which it had been conjured.
"There's something strange about him," Listle muttered. "I have an idea." Before Kern could stop her, she stood to hurl a tiny sphere of silver magic at the man.
Her aim was true. The glowing sphere shattered against Slayer's breastplate with a sound like breaking glass. He took a step backward in surprise, then grinned evilly, apparently unharmed.
Kern groaned. "That spell certainly didn't work, Listle."
"Is that so?" she asked archly.
Kern stared in wonder as tendrils of silver magic coiled around Slayer's form. Suddenly the huge man's visage began to warp and crack. His skin seemed to melt into a foul puddle at his feet, revealing dark scales. Slowly, black wings unfurled from