Temple Hill - Drew Karpyshyn [101]
Xiliath must have felt it best to leave the treacherous steward in his petrified state until the plans with the medusa were done. It wasn't hard to imagine Fhazail's double-crossing of the cultist becoming a triple-crossing of Xiliath's own schemes. Or perhaps there was another explanation, another reason why the corpulent steward had not yet been restored.
The statue was less than twenty feet from where Corin was standing, half hidden behind a small stack of crates.
It would only take a minute for Corin to dash over, move the crates aside and smash the statue to bits, destroying Fhazail forever, as punishment for his betrayal of the White Shields on the Trader Road. But every second Corin spent avenging his dead companions was a second lost in his quest to save Lhasha-precious time in which the half-elf s statue could be inadvertently destroyed by the ravages of war.
Corin's lust for revenge had already cost Lhasha far too much. Pushing all thoughts of Fhazail from his head, Corin resumed his search for bis friend.
A loud clap of thunder from the roof announced the completion of the gnome's latest spell. A blizzard of blinding snow and huge chunks of ice, hard as frozen rock, battered the beleaguered soldiers in the center of the chamber. A surprised chorus of alarmed shouts rose up above the cacophony of battle, momentarily drawing Corin's attention away from his search and to the battlefield. Soldiers on both sides were pelted with snow and ice. They slipped and fell in the slush, scrambling to avoid the weapons of their enemies while trying to dodge the fist-sized hail that pummeled them from the cavern ceiling. Many of them didn't get up again.
The lethal blizzard proved only a momentary distraction to Corin. He was far enough from its center to avoid the worst of the storm. If anything, the spell would keep the armies occupied and less likely to focus their attention on him.
After an eternity of several minutes, Corin's persever-ant searching was rewarded.
Most of the statues were standing, frozen in mid-stride as they fled the medusa's gaze. But Lhasha's form was lying on the ground, her arms thrust out as if to brace a fall. By some amazing fluke, Corin surmised, she must have caught the medusa's eye while tumbling to the ground.
The miraculous fact that she hadn't shattered upon striking the ground was lost on Corin as he fumbled to open the case in his belt. His prosthetic arm, combined with the magic of Fendel's forged blade, provided no handicap in combat. But his metal hand lacked the precision and dexterity to perform fine, exacting movements. He struggled with the case for several long, frustrating seconds before managing to pop the latch. Using his good hand he grasped the thick glass bottle and yanked the stopper out with his teeth.
He raised the bottle to her hps, then paused. Obviously Lhasha couldn't drink the potion in her current state. He glanced back toward Fendel, hoping for guidance, but the gnome was too focused on his spells to notice Corin crouched over Lhasha's prone form.
Realizing there was only really one possibility, Corin carefully poured the contents over the statue, trying to distribute it as evenly as possible. The liquid beaded as it struck the half-elf s face and body. It trickled along the ridges in Lhasha's petrified features and the creases in her petrified clothes. Then the droplets began to move with a life of their own, slipping and sliding over the rock, moving faster and faster until they became a shimmering glow racing over every inch of Lhasha's stone body.
The shimmer became a shroud of blinding light, wrapping itself around Lhasha. It flared a deep violet, then flickered to blue, red, and finally pink, the brightness and intensity of each color increasing until Corin was forced to momentarily avert his gaze, squeezing his eyes shut against the glare.
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