Song of the Saurials - Kate Novak [36]
While the paladin couldn't believe that Alias had anything to do with the attack on Zhara, he never doubted for an instant that Zhara was right about her husband's being in danger. The deadly enchanted thistles smelled of the Darkbringer's magic, and Dragonbait shuddered to think what other sorts of plants and creatures the god would send after the merchant-mage.
*****
Satisfied that she had broken Akabar's spirit, Kyre slid her dagger back up her sleeve and set the crystal nut down on the table. She kissed the mage on the lips, more passionately than she had the first time, tugging on his lips with her own.
Akabar shuddered, too terrified of the tendrils in the half-elf's mouth to risk unclenching his jaw, but he made no verbal complaint. He could feel the tendrils about his arms loosening and then falling away.
"Now, prove to me your sincerity," Kyre demanded as she slid the tendrils out from his sleeves. "Embrace me," she ordered.
Akabar slid his arms around the woman's shoulders and pulled her close to him.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and ran her fingers up and down his spine.
The tendrils from her arms slithered about his ankles and lay bunched on the floor like pythons. The merchant-mage's feelings warred between revulsion and desire.
"That potion you had me drink was a philter of love, wasn't it?" Akabar asked.
Kyre looked up at the Turmishman with surprise. "Yes," she admitted, laying her head against his chest. "The master made a perfect choice. You are very clever."
Akabar's eyes fell on the crystal soul trap lying on the table. If an enemy of Moander's was trapped within, Kyre must have used it on Elminster, he thought.
Then she had Grypht appear in his place to distract the other two Harpers before it occurred to either of them that she might be responsible. Grypht fled from the Harpers' court and Kyre followed, making herself appear the monster's foe.
No doubt she assisted it in the capture of Nameless and then gave it the opportunity to escape.
"I shall be your first reward," Kyre whispered, pressing her slender body against his own. "The potion still courses in your blood. You know you desire me."
"I know," Akabar replied flatly. He had never loved anything so hateful in his life. Only another mage could dispel the love charm to which he'd fallen prey.
Elminster could do so without batting an eye, but Elminster was as trapped as Akabar was. Suddenly a glimmer of hope flickered in the Turmishman's heart. If Elminster were to be freed, the old sage could do more than dispel Kyre's evil magic: Elminster could destroy Kyre as well.
On the table, beside the crystal soul trap and the bowl of rotting fruit, lay a chordal horn, a northern woodwind instrument, which must have belonged to Nameless. It was beautifully crafted of black wood and decorated with gold, but Akabar was only interested in its length and weight. It would make a reasonable club if he could just get hold of it.
Steeling himself to the task of distracting Kyre from his efforts to reach the horn, the merchant-mage bent over the woman and began kissing her all about her throat. The half-elf moaned softly. Akabar squeezed her tighter, forcing her back against the table, and ran his right hand down her back until he felt the tabletop. He closed his fingers around the instrument, but as he began lifting it from the table, he accidentally struck it against the rim of the silver fruit bowl.
Kyre started at the clanging sound and twisted around in Akabar's arms. Akabar grabbed the half-elf's right hand in his left and aimed the chordal horn over the soul trap gem on the table.
Realizing the mage's intent, Kyre looked alarmed. She screamed, "No!" and snatched for the crystal nut with her left hand.
Akabar slammed the chordal horn down hard on the table. The top of the instrument smashed into the crystal nut, shattering it into pieces, but the middle of the instrument smashed into Kyre's wrist with a sickening sound.
Blackness oozed and billowed over the table where the soul trap had lain, but