Red Magic - Jean Rabe [16]
Like the nine planes you'll go, Galvin thought as he watched her return to the collapsed tent. No woman is going to take my place on any Harper mission. Still, he reasoned, she was more powerful than he would have imagined, and he owed his life to her for holding off the creature. He began to wonder about the creature's whereabouts when the sky grew black above him. The beast was returning, heading straight toward the enchantress.
"Brenna!" Galvin yelled, pushing himself to a sitting position in time to see the creature swoop through the clearing toward the woman. Brenna caught sight of it at the last moment and dove into the canvas, narrowly avoiding its talons. The beast swept on to the edge of the clearing and then gracefully banked to return.
Brenna rose to her knees and pushed her rain-soaked, tangled locks away from her face in one motion. She glanced about the campsite as the creature swept back for another strike.
"Get down!" she screamed at Galvin, and then she began furiously digging through the canvas. The druid ignored her and staggered to his feet to draw the creature's attention.
But the darkenbeast, determined to finish off the woman first, paid no attention to the Harper. It reveled as it closed for the kill, extending its talons toward her throat. A moment more and it would have her. A moment more and…
Brenna flattened herself over the collapsed tent, her arms and legs spread wide, her left hand grasping what she had desperately sought from her belongings. She smelled the creature's rank odor and felt the air rush across her back as the thing passed inches above her. Gathering her courage, she rolled over and sat awkwardly, like a young child, amidst the jumble of rope and canvas. With the rain pelting her face, she opened her left hand, palm upward, holding her right hand above it to keep the sulfur dry. Once more she began a singsong chant, this time her voice sharp and loud.
Again the darkenbeast banked and sped toward her, anxious as it smelled her fear intermingled with the cloying scent of lilacs. Then it heard the sharp crack of a lightning bolt and smelled burning flesh-its own.
The bolt had arced from the woman's hand to the darkenbeast, striking the creature squarely in the breast and nearly splitting it asunder. The magical lightning illuminated the clearing, revealing the astonished expression on the druid's face. The darkenbeast felt its insides burn and boil, and it flapped maddeningly, not realizing it was dying.
It struck the ground and beat its wings feebly for a moment more while its body twitched.
Sheets of rain drenched the creature's smoking form as Galvin and Brenna leaned against each other for support. Then they stepped forward cautiously to get a closer look at it.
The beast twitched once more, then began to shrivel.
*****
Ensconced in his tower in Amruthar, Maligor screamed.
The Red Wizard felt the lightning surging through the darkenbeast's body, experienced its death throes. When it was over, he threw back the red silk covers from his bed, breathed deeply to clear his mind, and rose to pace about his bedchamber. Maligor was puzzled. He had sent the creature after a gnoll, but he in his mind, he had seen it fight a woman. He had seen the woman conjure a magical blast of lightning. The woman could be a Red Wizard, Maligor thought, despite her long hair. Had she already killed the gnoll? Was she protecting it? Or had the darkenbeast crossed paths with her merely by accident?
Maligor was so caught up in the mystery, working the puzzle through his mind again and again, that he unknowingly relaxed his personal wards, the magical guards that kept prying eyes from him.
A pair of eyes watched him now, deep-socketed, ancient orbs that stared at a crystal ball and through it watched Maligor pace. The observer, a lich and rival Red Wizard, sensed that Maligor