Storm of the Dead - Lisa Smedman [89]
The firestorm ended as suddenly as it had begun, leaving her blinking. The singing sword lay silent at her feet, its blade dark with soot.
Cavatina yanked her holy symbol from around her neck. Its silver still gleamed, unblemished by the balor's foul magic. Wendonai might have no natural vulnerabilities, but Halisstra had inadvertently handed Cavatina a weapon she might use.
"Eilistraee!" she cried. "My enemy stands before me: the demon Wendonai. Smite him!"
A note pealed from the holy symbol, pure as thrice-blessed water. The balor, unable to fend off an attack that utilized his name, staggered backward. He threw down his sword and howled in agony, hands clasping his ears.
Cavatina bore down on him, holding the miniature sword before her. A shaft of moonlight split the flat, empty sky, its light eclipsing that of the pale yellow sun. The balor staggered back, his cloven feet punching holes in the ground that welled up with blood.
"Mortal," he panted, black smoke puffing from his nostrils. "You vex me."
He droned a word, low and terrible. It rasped against the pure note of the holy symbol, which trembled in Cavatina's hand, then was parried. The note droned into Cavatina's very core, rattling her bones. Suddenly weak, her body hot and feverish, she trembled. The holy symbol vibrated out of her hand and fell at her feet. The shaft of moonlight disappeared.
All was still for a moment. Then the howling wind returned. On it came Wendonai's triumphant cry. "You think you can best me, mortal," he chortled. "Think again!"
He barked out a word that hit Cavatina like the blast from a furnace, instantly stunning her. Dizzy, she toppled. She landed on her back next to Halisstra's body. Already, the corpse was mending itself, the concavity that was her chest slowly filling, her eyelids fluttering. Halisstra would live. Such was Lolth's infinite torment.
Wendonai loomed over Cavatina, a length of his severed whip in either hand. Bending down, he used them to bind her ankles and wrists. He licked her cheek, leaving a smear of tar on her skin. Hot, sulfuric breath panted in her face.
"Now our fun begins."
* * * * *
Kвras plunged his dagger into the weeping svirfneblin's chest, held it there a moment while the gnome died, then yanked it free. He turned, wiping the blood from his blade. "There," he told the others. "I've given him the 'mercy' you pleaded for. No more arguments."
The others stared at him with a range of expressions. The priestesses had shown open disgust as he'd questioned the third svirfneblin. They were angry that he'd ignored their protests that the other two had told them all they needed to know. One of the Nightshadows looked as though he shared their sentiments, but the other three males nodded in agreement with what Kвras had just done, as did the mages.
Kвras stepped over the mutilated body of the dead svirfneblin. All three lay on the floor of the tunnel at odd angles, their feet still encased in the re-hardened stone. He nodded at Q'arlynd, and the wizard repeated his spell. The stone softened beneath them, and with a push of his foot, Kвras forced them down into the mud, one by one.
As the wizard made the floor solid again, Kвras turned to the others. "Before Cavatina ran off to chase demons, she named me leader of this expedition," he reminded them. "I'm in charge-you all just heard Qiluй confirm this. The Masked Lady herself condones what I just did. There were no signs of her displeasure