Temple Hill - Drew Karpyshyn [105]
"I still don't like leaving you behind," Lhasha objected.
"There's no choice, really, but don't worry, Lhasha. Ill only be a minute or two until I catch up with you."
"It really is the best plan," Corin added.
With a sigh, Lhasha consented.
Their progress across the cavern was painfully slow. Lhasha followed behind the gnome, staring only at her mentor's heels. Corin trailed Lhasha, his eyes never leaving her leather boots. Their route wound in a wide semicircle as their leader tried to avoid the constantly shifting fringes of the melee.
Fendel described the scene as they went, trying to reassure his virtually blind followers despite the horrifying sounds of the gruesome battle only a short distance away. "There's a ton of statues out there, but nobody seems to care. The soldiers aren't running away. These have to be the hard-core followers, the real fanatics of each group. They're still at each other's throats. It's like they don't even know there's a medusa heading right for them, leaving a petrified forest behind her.
"Nobody's noticed us yet," the gnome continued. "And we're almost there. I think we're going to make it."
Suddenly the gnome pulled up short. "Gond's Flaming Forge," he whispered. The sounds emanating from the battlefield suddenly changed from fierce battle calls and war cries to terrified screams and shrieks.
"The medusa's dead!" Fendel yelled, breaking into a run. "Don't look back, don't stop! Just get to that blasted exit as fast as you can!"
***
Azlar watched the orog flee out into the smugglers' tunnels. The young wizard knew he could hunt that beast down later at his leisure and attempt to capture him alive when the odds were more favorable. For the time being, however, he had more pressing matters to attend.
The old mage on the floor was as good as dead, though he was still untouchable because of the blue magical shield encircling his body. Azlar shrugged. He would merely wait until the spell burned itself out and get the ring later. With the retreat of Graal, Xiliath's military leader, the outcome of the battle had become inevitable.
Cloaked in his powerful spell of invisibility, the wizard roamed the battlefield at will. Jets of flame fanned out from his fingers, incinerating one of Xiliath's guards. Bolts of lightning erupted from his fists, striking his nearest foe, then arcing from the frying corpse to the unfortunate man beside the first victim. The lightning continued jumping down the line from target to target, leaving smoldering husks in its wake as it continued its deadly chain. Half a dozen of Xiliath's men were electrocuted by the spell, but Azlar didn't even notice. He had already moved on, forgetting in the heat of the moment that he was no longer shielded by his spell.
He hurled glowing orbs of pure energy into the fray, stunning some of Xiliath's soldiers so they could be easily hacked down by the cultists. Others were melted by burning acid or caught in deadly clouds of poisonous gas. A few of his own men went down as well, screaming as they died from the effects of Azlar's magic-expendable sacrifices in the greater cause.
In a matter of minutes, the wizard had wrought utter havoc on his enemies. Their casualties would have broken the morale of lesser soldiers. Grudgingly, Azlar had to admit that Xiliath's men were at least the equals of his own troops, though the cultists now had a distinct numerical superiority.
Azlar was toying with his foes now. He followed the progress of one soldier through the melee, preparing to unleash a spell that would bring about a gruesome, horrible death on the hapless man.
The mage carefully tracked the fighter as he sprinted across the cavern floor, making his way toward an unsuspecting foe. Azlar raised his still hands in the air and began the incantation to seal the man's fate, but when the intended victim suddenly tinned to stone, Azlar's concentration was broken.
Casually, Azlar turned to the corner where the medusa had fallen. The creature was up now, her deadly face unveiled for all to see. Her serpentine tresses writhed in