Son of Khyber_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [61]
“Fare you well, sister,” Palmer whispered. And then the warforged were upon them.
No time for thought. Thorn had one advantage: the assassins all seemed to have the same basic training. She was able to use the lessons she’d learned earlier. But there were too many of them.
Palmer fell quickly, and Thorn stood alone. She didn’t even think. She just moved, darting between a shifting maze of adamantine blades. She could smell her own blood, and she knew she’d been hurt, but she just kept moving, trying to stay on her feet until something changed.
And then it did.
The construct in front of her spasmed as the bone wheel cut into its neck. A swift kick from Xu’sasar finished the job, knocking the assassin’s head from its body. Now Tarkanans were all around Thorn. Daine was fighting the juggernaut, ducking beneath its blows and lashing out with his gleaming blade. The dwarf Scrapper fought at his side. Her leather armor was caked with dried blood, but Scrapper refused to fall. She clenched her teeth as an assassin’s blade grazed her shoulder, but managed to wrap both hands around her opponent’s wrist. Scrapper’s aberrant mark shattered spells, including the mystical forces that animated the warforged. The construct twisted in Scrapper’s grasp, but couldn’t break free … and now the rootlike tendrils that served as warforged muscles became brittle, snapping as the assassin convulsed. Within moments, the warforged shattered, falling to the ground in a heap of metal and dust.
It was over within moments, and the Tarkanans faced Merrix.
“You?” he said, gazing at Daine. He still seemed to be in shock. “Lei’s lapdog?”
Daine shook his head. “Things have changed. I didn’t expect to find you here, Lord Merrix. Now I can thank you personally for the wonderful gifts you’ve given us.” He had the sack of holding in his hand, and he reached in and produced a steel half-sphere studded with dragonshards and glyphs. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of these, but there are some things you never forget. Now!”
On his command, Xu’sasar and Thorn leaped forward, both moving to grapple with the dragonmarked lord. Not fast enough! Merrix must have already been planning his escape, for as fast as the Tarkanans were, their hands closed on empty air.
“Thorn,” Daine said. “Is he still here?”
Thorn closed her eyes, extending her senses around her. “No,” she said at last. We’re the only ones left. He had a teleportation charm.”
“Very well.” Daine looked around the room, evaluating the injured and the dead. “Scrapper, help Brom. Xu, you take Palmer. Head for the gate. Now.”
Thorn stayed with him as the others dragged off the injured. “What about the forge? Dreck is gone.”
Daine smiled slightly. “It’s under control.”
He set the flat side of the half-sphere against the stone column, whispering an incantation over it. A pattern of light flowed across the dragonshards, and they began to pulse rhythmically.
“I suggest you run,” he told her. “I’m sure Lord Merrix has made improvements, but in my day these were very unstable.”
He loped for the gate, and she ran after him. They had just reached the entry hall when she heard a mighty groan behind her, the sound of a giant bellowing in torment. This cry of misery and pain reverberated throughout the hall, surrounding her and shaking the ground itself. She felt a sense of mingled anger and despair sweeping over her, and she had to concentrate to drive the alien emotions from her mind.
“Keep running!” Daine shouted.
The Tarkanan survivors were waiting at the gate. The moaning had grown louder, and combined with the sound of crashing stone, it drowned out Daine’s orders. The aberrants didn’t need instructions. The moment they saw Daine, they ran for their escape route. They passed through the first hidden hatch and made their way into the sewers. There Daine called them to a halt, resting against the scum-encrusted wall. Thorn could still hear the terrible howling in the distance, but it didn’t seem to be drawing any closer.
“Well,” Daine said. “I’d call that a good start.”
CHAPTER TWENTY