Rising tide - Mel Odom [75]
Fool, the aboleth called out in its mind speech. Your reflexes have only afforded you a small respite. I will have you, and once having you, I'll add your thoughts and memories to those I've already ingested.
Pacys blocked the stabbing tentacles as they whipped toward him. Water slopped over the pilings again, almost toppling him from his feet. He completed his spell and felt the tingle run through his body as it took effect. Once he was certain the spell had worked, he stepped to the side, noticing the way his feet still splashed through the pools of water spread across Dock Street.
The aboleth used its tentacles to turn itself. The slitted purple-red eyes stacked one atop the other on its big head slid in their orbits as they searched for him. The tentacles flailed out for him, missing by inches.
Being able to turn himself invisible over the years had proven both entertaining and a good defensive strategy. The old bard twisted the staff again, baring the hidden blades. He breathed like a blacksmith's bellows pump, and the brine stung the back of his throat. As always, anything that bothered his throat concerned him. If his voice was damaged in any way, his career was over.
Pacys the bard, the aboleth called out, / know you're still here. I can feel you, feel your thoughts in my mind.
What good does it do you, O rancid beast? Pacys asked without speaking. He moved quietly and quickly, circling around behind the large fish. Carefully, he avoided any pools of water. His foe was intelligent enough to pick up the signs of an invisible person's passage even if it couldn't see him.
I'll find you, the aboleth threatened. I'm much smarter than you.
Who's brought you here? Pacys continued circling, gaining ground on the large creature as it pulled itself about with its tentacles.
The promise of a feast.
The sahuagin?
No. Another. The aboleth made a contented belch with its gills. I've already eaten three humans this night. By morning I'll know what they were, who they were, and in the days that follow, I'll assimilate all.
The thought chilled Pacys. The fact that aboleth were capable of absorbing the knowledge of those they'd eaten was known to him. Not all of that knowledge was useful to the aboleth. They lived beneath the water and couldn't do the manual labor of a human. Tentacles didn't replace hands. The old bard knew that the creatures maintained humans as slaves as well. He'd heard the stories of those few who had escaped.
You, old bard, would be a pearl to cherish, to be shown and to be coveted among my people. Even from the brief mind touch I made with you, I know you've lived a long time and know much. The aboleth continued turning. I also know what you're afraid of. You're old, Pacys, and you haven't many years left. The song you're searching for will never happen, unless, after I eat your brain, I compose it myself. I could offer you that immortality you seek so desperately.
Cold, hard laughter hammered Pacys's mind. He took a fresh grip on his staff, prepared his spell, and leaped to the creature's back.
The aboleth bucked at once when it felt him land on its side. Slime and muck covered its scaly skin. Pacys worked hard to pull himself up into position. Thankfully, the four tentacles streaking toward him all at the same time behind the creature's head got in each other's way.
He raised the staff and plunged it down into the aboleth's topmost eye, planting it deep.
Immediately, the aboleth mind screamed in pain. It flopped, pushing itself up on two of its tentacles while two more flailed for the embedded staff. One of them seized it and pulled.
Holding tight and staying low, Pacys hung onto the wooden shaft of the staff and got to his feet. He leaped from the aboleth and readied himself for the coming fall, keeping his body loose. He pointed a forefinger at the embedded staff and unleashed the mystical energy he'd summoned.
A jagged lightning bolt jetted only a few inches from his fingertips and lanced into the staff. Drawn by the metal under