Storm of the Dead - Lisa Smedman [78]
She crept closer to the opening for a better look. The cavern beyond was filled with a vast lake, its depths illuminated from below by the Faerzress. At its center stood an island, capped with a forest of stalagmites that made up the buildings of the ruined city. The stalagmites crackled with blue-green light, as if it were a living city decorated with faerie fire, but that was only the glow of the Faerzress.
At the center of the island was a massive spire of flat-topped stone. It, too, pulsed with Faerzress energy, but the building that stood atop it was black as a starless sky. Mazeer could guess what it was: the Acropolis of Thanatos, temple of Kiaransalee, Queen of the Undead. Above the temple drifted the pale shapes of restless ghosts. Their wails echoed faintly across the lake. Even at a distance, the sound made Mazeer shiver.
Her teleportation spells were useless, thanks to the Faerzress. She couldn't escape. And it was unlikely that Daffir or Khorl would be able to use their divinations to find her. The protections that had prevented them from scrying the main cavern likely extended as far as the smaller cavern.
One avenue of communication remained open, however: Eilistraee's high priestess. Mazeer might be stuck, just like that time in the chimney, but this time when she called for help someone would hear her.
"Qiluй," she whispered. Despite the cacophony of clattering bone from the cavern beyond, she was wary of raising her voice. "It is Mazeer, of the College of Conjuration and Summoning. One of those traveling in Cavatina's band. Qiluй, can you hear me? I've something urgent to report."
The reply came a moment later: a female voice that seemed to sing, rather than speak. I'm listening.
"Tell Cavatina I've found the way to Kiaransalee's temple. It's a narrow fissure that leads down to…"
The words faded on her lips as a skull leered in through the hole in the wall. Mazeer could see right through it, and the Faerzress gave it an eerie, blue-green glow. The body was a trailing wisp of bone-white, with hands whose fingers tapered to dagger-sharp points. Its jaw creaked open. A ghastly din erupted from the blackness within-the sound of hundreds of phlegm-choked voices, groaning in agony.
Waves of despair poured from the apparition and enveloped Mazeer like a cold, moldy blanket. Trembling, with a stomach that felt hollow and sick, she remembered the wand in her hand. Somehow, she forced her arm to rise. She pointed the wand and sobbed out a word. A sickly green ray shot from it, striking the skull.
The apparition never even slowed. It loomed into the cave and clutched at Mazeer with skeletal hands that raked her body, passing through her chest. For a moment, she couldn't breathe. Her legs buckled, sending her to her knees. Then the hands retracted, yanking something from her. Mazeer felt a hollow open as all vestiges of hope and joy were torn from her.
Only bitterness remained.
It was enough. She clutched the emotion like an icy seed, using it to draw herself back to the here and now. Dropping the willow wand, she clawed a second wand from her bracer. This one had a pea-sized sphere of hollow glass at its tip. The creature screamed at her, a soul-numbing wail that slammed against Mazeer's eardrums. She felt her right eardrum rupture. Intense pain flared through that side of her head. Even as the skull's wail drove her past the edge of madness, she shouted the wand's command word. Ripples of energy shot from it. They slammed into the skull and expanded outward from it, encasing it in a bubble of silence.
The apparition raged impotently, mouth open. It clawed at the bubble that surrounded its head, but without effect. The silence ate at it like acid. A