Storm of the Dead - Lisa Smedman [125]
Like humans suddenly awakened from sleep, Q'arlynd's apprentices shook their heads and stared wonderingly around. For several moments, each wore an expression as vacant as Zarifar's.
Then Baltak put his hands on his hips. "Where in the Abyss are we? And what's that thing on your forehead?"
Q'arlynd smiled wearily. "That's a long story. When we return to Sshamath, I'll tell it to you."
CHAPTER 14
Close enough, Cavatina signed.
They halted near the front of the crowd. The Crones pressed tightly on all sides. The sphere of voidstone hung only a few paces ahead of them, looming as large as the temple had once been. Waves of negative energy crackled from it, chilling the air. The Faezress underfoot brightened with each pulse. The spirit floated above the voidstone, hands raised, leading the chanting in a mournful moan.
Beside Cavatina, the disguised Kвras raised his arms and mouthed in time with the chant. Cavatina did the same. Odd, that it was a Nightshadow she'd wind up making her final stand with. And yet, somehow, appropriate.
She caught Kвras's eye and flicked a hand. Now.
"Eilistraee!" Cavatina sang out, letting her disguise fall away.
The nearest Crones spun to face her, their faces twisted with rage.
Beside her, Kвras plunged his dagger into a Crone and touched Cavatina's arm. Energy flowed into her, augmenting her prayer.
"By my song, lay these foul abominations forever to rest!" Cavatina sang, even as the Crones leaped at her, their curved fingers raking wounds into her flesh that instantly festered. Beside her, Kвras slashed desperately with his dagger, trying to take down as many as he could.
In answer to her prayer, moonlight streaked with shadow erupted from the holy symbol clenched in Cavatina's fist. It spread through the ranks of the Crones in a flood. Several of the closest Crones collapsed as it washed clean the death magic that had animated them. Others-those who hadn't yet embraced undeath-continued their attack. Cavatina went down under their scrabbling hands and lost sight of Kвras. But she caught a glimpse of the spirit as the pool of moonlight and shadow she'd summoned struck it. The ghost twisted, wailing, as Eilistraee's holy song tore at its substance.
Then the spell ended.
The spirit remained.
The ghost threw back its head. Its chest swelled. As it exhaled, a ghastly keening began.
"Eilistraee!" Cavatina cried. "Lend me your-"
The keening struck Cavatina like a clapper hitting a bell, sending her body into violent convulsions that choked off her prayer. The Crones, meanwhile, bore down on Cavatina. Their hooked fingers tore open her hand, and her holy symbol fell to the ground. The Crones nearest it reeled away from it, wailing, but others leaped onto Cavatina, knocking her down. Her chin cracked against stone and she tasted blood. Each new laceration was a sharp slash of pain. She struggled to rise but could not. She glanced left, and saw Kвras a pace or two away, no longer disguised as a Crone. He lay in a pool of blood, his flesh scored by dozens of wounds. He wasn't moving.
Cavatina felt cold-the chill of the grave. Barely conscious, she strove to choke out her goddess's name through chattering teeth. "Eil… is… tr-"
The ghost loomed before her. "You have lost," she hissed, her whisper somehow carrying clearly above the enraged cries of the Crones. "When we are done with you, not a scrap of your soul will remain." She drew back, cackling. A sweeping gesture took in both Cavatina and Kвras-and sphere of voidstone. "Throw them into it."
Echoing their head priestess's laughter, the Crones hoisted Cavatina and Kвras into the air. Twice, they nearly dropped Cavatina. She was awash in her own blood, her body almost too slippery to hold. With the last of her strength, Cavatina fought to lift her head, to face her doom bravely. There was no use commending her soul to Eilistraee; in another moment it would all be over. As the Crones bore her to