Stormlight - Ed Greenwood [51]
The murderer ducked away-straight into the path of another slung stone. He reeled, gasped out a curse, and crawled toward the rocks that lay atop Storm, seeking their shelter.
Storm heard a barked command, and almost smiled. The pursuing Purple Dragons must have found the pit and decided this stranger was the murderer. They were busily employing their sling." right now-and buying her the time she needed.
The murderer must have thought so too. He snarled another curse, cast a spell, and soared up out of sight.
Storm bent all her will to healing herself, gasping and shuddering in agony as limb after limb jittered and ballooned back to its proper shape, shifting the massive blocks of stone. She'd not have much more time.
The first armsman made a short, despairing cry as he pitched down. Close above Storm, he struck the wall with a wet, pulpy sound, and said no more; his limbs convulsed once or twice after his body landed on the rocks and slithered down their far side.
Storm drew in her breath, thankful for the small mercy of the corpse's location, and found the strength at last to shift the stone atop her. She expanded her lungs and begin to heal them and the splintered mess that was her rib cage. The expected second Purple Dragon corpse fell limp and silent, his neck already broken, and crashed down hard on the upraised edge of her stone.
The impact made her gasp in fresh agony-but the stone rolled slowly away from her, crushing the armsman with sounds both brittle and wet. Storm shuddered, but dared spare no time for sorrow or revulsion… her foe would be back for her soon enough.
A third guardsman fell into the pit. roaring out his despair. Storm was still too weak and pain-racked to do anything to save him. He fell at her feet, smashed on the rocks, and stared at her beseechingly before his eyes grew dull and distant. In an ear that could no longer hear, Storm whispered, "You shall be avenged." She bent over the man to draw forth his sword. By the smiling mercy of the gods, it was unbroken.
Not so the dagger-but the man had a second one in bis boot. Storm was fumbling it forth when another armsman crashed down beside her, limbs jerking in agonized spasms.
A familiar form jumped up from a crouched landing on the soldier's gut.
"On our feet so soon? My, but Mystra must love you!" the man who was not Maxer said merrily.
Storm pounced, her borrowed blade flashing. "I'd love the world around me just a trifle more if it held just a few less meddling Malaugrym!" she snarled, thrusting. Her steel caught in cloth that tore as her foe twisted away. He was as fast as she, maybe faster.
A dodge, a duck, and they were both sure of that. He was fast enough not only to leap clear of her seeking steel-but to mutter out a spell.
Luckily for Storm, the pit was full of loose stones. There was a sliding and clicking of rubble behind her as the big stone that had crushed her once-a boulder as tall as a troll-lifted into the air under the bidding of her foe's magic. She spun around as it rose. The shattered body of a Purple Dragon peeled limply away from it.
“There are far greater powers in the worlds than that clan of proud, self-important feuding fools,” he said mockingly from behind her. The stone thundered down.
Without looking, Storm thrust viciously behind her at that voice. She spat out silver fire at the stony death above her. The blood-smeared boulder shattered into a thousand shards.
“Such as?” she snarled, and spun around. Her blade touched nothing but air.
From a safe dozen rocks distant, he was murmuring another spell. Storm flung her dagger at him.
It spun end over end, straight at his face. It clattered off stone. He was suddenly not there.
Strom went into a crouch of her own, bringing the sword up in front of her and trying to watch everywhere at once. The air glimmered. She spun around. He appeared out of it. She dived into a thrust, and was rewarded with a startled gasp and blood on her sword tip before he was gone again.
She rolled