Storm of the Dead - Lisa Smedman [69]
She whirled. The Nightshadow stood just a few paces away, next to one of the fallen priestesses. The dead female's hunting horn was in his hand. His eyes bulged as he saw Halisstra turn, the shattered wristbow bolt in her hand.
"Masked Lady, aid me!" he cried. "Slay the fiend!"
He thrust his free hand forward. A bolt of intertwined shadow and moonlight shot from his palm and struck Halisstra in the face. A blaze of white light filled one eye, a pall of darkness the other. Pain flared in her temples. Then Lolth's restorative magic asserted itself, and Halisstra could see again.
The Nightshadow was gone. A blare of noise came from close by in the woods: the hunting horn. A moment later, answering blares came from the direction of Eilistraee's shrine.
Halisstra snarled. She yearned to race through the woods after that Nightshadow and rip out his heart and squeeze it to bloody mush before it even stopped beating, but that would do little good. The damage was already done. A host of priestesses would be there in mere moments, intent on their hunt.
She smashed a fist into a nearby tree, splintering its bark. The tree groaned and fell across the pool, sending up a spray of water. Halisstra ground her teeth in frustration. She'd hoped the pool would lead her to Cavatina. A stupid idea. Now all she could do was flee or fight.
Pain pulsed through her palm-the demon's claw, shifting like a maggot under her skin. A word hissed into her ear like a trickle of hot sand. Wait.
Halisstra blinked in surprise. "Wendonai?"
A crack sounded nearby-a sharp sound, like rock splitting in a fire. A hot wind stirred the branches next to Halisstra. Grit tickled her skin and blew into her eyes.
"Wendonai," she said. With certainty, this time.
She tensed as something stepped out of the forest. It looked like a mummified drow, with skin that glinted in the moonlight as though it had been dusted with rock salt. Its eyes were an outgrowth of salt-crystal, their orbs replaced with jagged prisms. The thing clawed its way toward the pool, tearing at the vegetation that impeded it. Leaves withered and died on the branches it touched.
With jerking steps, the salt mummy moved past Halisstra and stumbled into the pool. When it was barely as deep as its ankles, its feet and lower limbs started to dissolve. Moaning, it collapsed to its knees and thrashed about in the water. Holes opened in its skin where the water splashed it, and pieces of its salt-impregnated flesh fell away.
The blare of horns drew nearer as the hunters closed in. The pool shrank as the salt mummy thrashed about in it. A crust of salt ringed the pool and the smell of brine filled the air. The plants that rimmed the pool withered.
Halisstra touched a hand to what remained of the water. This time, the callus in her palm didn't burn. Instead it drew in the water, lapping it up with the eagerness of a thirst-crazed dog.
Laughing, Halisstra stepped into the pool. The salt mummy was gone save for a rapidly dissolving lump that had been its head. Its jaw was still working; the callus in Halisstra's palm pulsed in time with its words. Follow…
She waded to the center of the pool. Near her feet, she spotted a faint sparkle of pale blue light that looked like faerie fire. She touched it with a foot and felt an emptiness, a hollow, waiting to swallow her. As the first of the priestesses of Eilistraee burst out of the woods, singing a spell that sent her sword dancing through the air, Halisstra sneered. A flick of her hand cast a web that tangled the sword in mid-flight.
Then she plunged headfirst into the reeking water, and into the portal that opened beneath her.
* * * * *
Q'arlynd stood in the tunnel as the rest of the group departed. No one had spared him so much as a backward glance-not even Eldrinn, though Q'arlynd could tell by the set of the boy's shoulders that he didn't like leaving his mentor behind.
When the last footfall faded, Q'arlynd waited for a thousand-count, then tried to follow. He managed