Stormlight - Ed Greenwood [109]
Storm’s body rocked slightly but did not respond, and after a slow, cautious breath or two, the mindless thing advanced again.
Broglan stared at it, face pale and mouth soundlessly working. Deep within him red fury was building. He felt hot, and restless, and suddenly energetic.
Drawing himself up, he snapped out a word-and blue-white bursts of energy streaked from his finger tips to strike the shambling man.
It flinched and grunted as each magic missile struck, whimpering and cowering by the end of the
barrage.
When no more came, however, it rose again, cautiously-and reached out for Storm again. Broglan quivered with rage and strode forward, shouting, "Get away from her! Just get away!"
The man turned a blank, expressionless face toward the source of the loud sounds, and then reached out again for the pretty thing.
Broglan was trotting now, knowing he had no useful spells left but determined to do something. His hurrying feet struck the legs of a crushed, half-buried table and sent one spinning. He hopped in pain for a moment, and then-whirled, snatched up the table leg, and ran on.
"Stop it! Leave her alone! Leave her alone!" he cried as the mindless man lifted Storm's limp arm and thee plucked at her leg. It looked like he was going to tear her apart!
Broglan screamed out his revulsion and swung the table leg with both hands.
Bone cracked. The shambling man staggered back, roaring with astonishment and pain. He dragged the limp body with him, and shook it in bewilderment. How had the sleeping thing hurt him? How?
Broglan Sarmyn, leader of the Sevensash, leapt high into the air and swung his improvised club with all his might. The man flung up an arm, and the blow that might have crushed his skull glanced down and into sis chest. He staggered back, winded but unhurt-and a furious Broglan brought the club back up under his chin.
The shambling man went over backward, letting go of Storm and consciousness at the same time. Back and down-down through a hole in the floor. He tumbled bonelessly to rubble far below.
For a long time, Broglan stared, panting, at the sprawled man. The fury slowly ebbed from behind his eyes. Wearily, he tossed aside the bloodied table leg. He turned back to Storm and took her gently in his arms.
She was so still, and so beautiful… Grief rose like a choking lump in his throat. He lifted her in his arms, staggering under her weight. He almost fell twice in his first few burdened steps, but set his jaw and walked on through the moonlight. If he did nothing else right in this whole accursed visit to Firefall Keep, he would do this. He would carry this woman, who'd fought so hard for them all, to a place of greater dignity, where she could rest undisturbed by mindless men or hungry wolves. And he was going to tell Lord Vangerdahast how they all owed the safety of Cormyr to this one brave Harper.
The moonlight bathed Storm and the grimly staggering Broglan in blue-white glory. It also shone down into the hole where the shambling man had fallen There, a broken, disheveled figure limped out of the shadows a few moments after Broglan had turned away. A half-naked man, somehow misshapen, lurched and crept forward to reach and touch the sprawled Hungry Man at last-with one anxious tentacle.
Nineteen
WHEN GODS DARE, HARPERS FALL
SHAYNA.
The voice was a caress in her mind, an echo of its former self. Shayna Summerstar swallowed, wincing in pain as she rose, and looked around at the night-drenched keep.
SHAYNA, COME TO ME.
The voice sounded stronger. With it came the familiar hunger to be near him… to be part of something powerful again.
Yes, Master, she said firmly-and found herself trembling. Where are you?
GO DOWN. SEEK ME BELOW. Shayna looked up regretfully at the blue-white moonlight and then turned her back on it, seeking an intact stair she'd seen earlier.