Realms of the Arcane - Brian M. Thomsen [62]
"Your fame is not undeserved," he said lightly, dismissive boredom in his tone. "Impressive. Very impressive." And he opened his hand.
Something small fluttered from it: a serpent with wings. It circled his head once as Aerindel quickly cast another spell, and then it flew toward her.
A stream of lightning flashed at Rammast. Two crackling arcs curled aside to meet the flying thing, but expired in brief halos as they encountered some sort of shield around it.
The Lord of Grand Thentor stood immobile, still smiling, as her lightning lashed him. Aerindel saw the snake swooping at her, and ducked away-but it followed, eyes bright and fangs agape. It was glistening, wet with slime, and mottled like an uncooked sausage.
She hissed a quick magical shield as she retreated from it-but the very air shattered with screams and flashing radiances as the flying monster darted right through her magic.
Aerindel covered her face as it roared down at her- and her cry was answered by the crack of a crossbow, fired from a high balcony.
The Lady of Dusklake rolled and hit out at the serpent. Above, she saw a crossbow bolt halt in midair, catch fire from end to end with blue flame that did not consume it, and spin around to race back the way it had come.
There was a despairing shout an instant before it struck, and blue fire burst forth in a blast that outlined the bones of the Duskan warrior-before it hurled them, fleshless and glowing, around the room.
Aerindel felt a painful tug on her scalp. Something was pulling her hair-oh, gods, no!
Rammast smiled down at her. "It's eating your hair, Lady… and mind: you're getting your best gown all dirty, rolling around like that. Show a little dignity, now: come up at least to your knees. My little pet will take care of your gown after it's bared your scalp. And then you'll be wearing shoes, too, won't you? It should be a good while before it gets around to eating your eyelashes."
Aerindel screamed, rolling frantically in an attempt to dislodge the thing. It was leaving a wet, slimy trail through her hair, and went on biting and tearing as if she'd done nothing, even when she drew her belt-knife and stabbed it repeatedly. It was a thing of magic, immune to her steel.
Rammast smiled indulgently at her and then strolled around the room, looking critically at the tapestries and statues. 'Tour father's taste wasn't as bad as I'd heard," he said grudgingly, ignoring Aerindel's sobs.
She frantically rose to cast a purging spell on herself. "Get out of my house? she snarled at him as she finally felt the gnawing serpent fade away to nothingness. "You cold-blooded bastard!"
Rammast turned to meet her furious gaze, shook his head with a disapproving sigh, and opened his hand again. Another serpent flew from his hand-and as she screamed in despair, he chuckled heartily and strolled in her direction.
"Perhaps your gown first, and the hair later," he suggested. "I suspect you're the superior of any of these rather contorted maids on pedestals your father collected. Was your mother particularly ugly, or did he just have odd tastes?"
Through tears of utter fury, Aerindel spat her last battle spell, sending a ravening purple cloud of flesh-eating radiance in his direction.
"Oooh," Rammast said in appreciation. "My, my." And he faded away, leaving her spell with nothing to slay. It rolled out over the lake, vainly seeking something to do to death.
Abruptly the darkly handsome Lord of Grand Thentor was standing beside her, a mocking smile on his face, as his second serpent flashed down over her shoulder to sink its fangs into her bodice.
Aerindel screamed.
"On your knees, Lady," Rammast suggested gently. "Remember?"
He waved a hand, and she felt an unseen force pressing her down. With a snarl she hissed her last dispel, wiping it away along with the sharp-fanged serpent.
He smiled even more broadly, and opened his hand again. Another serpent flapped its wings in his palm, eyeing her with glittering amusement.
"Perhaps one eyelash," her foe said calmly,