The Dragon's Doom - Ed Greenwood [133]
"Who?" Blackgult asked sharply, but Arkle Huldaerus just shrugged in his chains.
The Golden Griffon's eyes narrowed, and he took a threatening stride forward, but the Master of Bats smiled and shook his head. "Truly, I know not. My bats see things only where I dare to send them."
It was the turn of Embra to narrow and sharpen her gaze. "Will there also be a new Dragon?"
The chained mage shrugged. "Of course. A useful ally- if you can find whoever it is, and meet their price or treat them properly."
"Life is just full of ifs, isn't it?" Tshamarra asked softly.
Chains rattled as the manacled man shrugged again. "If you freed me," he said slowly, "I could perhaps help."
"Or not," the Talasorn sorceress said sharply.
The Master of Bats grinned rather unpleasantly. "Or not," he agreed. "Reap as you've sown, Overdukes."
Even as the words left his lips, a din arose outside the cell. Echoes, as always down in the Flowfoam cellars: the much-grown sounds of stumbling, frantically running feet, fast approaching through the dark passages.
The overdukes whirled around, lifting weapons, as the chained wizard watched with interest.
They were in time to see a crownless, ragged-cloaked Raulin Castlecloaks sprint past the open doorway, lit by bobbing torches clutched by two hard-eyed warriors who pursued him, swords drawn. At their heels ran another man, who sported no human face at all, but rather the emerald-green, shiny-scaled head of a serpent!
"Claws of the Lady!" Craer snapped, hurling himself through the door with the rest of the overdukes in frantic, shoulder-bruising pursuit. A bat swooped past their heads, but none of them bothered to strike at it as they pelted down the passage after the flickering, dwindling torchlight.
"Tash!" Craer gasped back over his shoulder, at the lithe woman running along not far behind. "Can't you… fly?"
His lady shook her head, and panted, "Takes too long… to cast… without Dwaer… become hurled arrow… No way to fight or parry when reach…"
"So what by all the Three-engloried splendor is magic good for?" the procurer snapped.
"Oh," Blackgult called, "saving kingdoms, felling the Great Serpent-little things like that."
The sounds of their voices made the snake-headed priest glance back, a forked tongue darting from between his lips as he hissed in anger and surprise. He slowed, and threw up his hands to cast a spell-and Embra stopped, pointed the Dwaer at him as if it was a sword, and let fly with a bright needle of force that lit up the passage blindingly bright for a moment.
The other overdukes cried out, but kept running-and by the time Craer could see again, he was stumbling over the thrashing, headless corpse of what had recently been a Serpent-priest.
"Graul and bebolt!" he snarled, veering to find a wall and claw himself to a halt until his gaze cleared. "Why can't you blast down those two warriors, Em? Hey?"
"They're safely around a corner," the Lady Silvertree replied, as she joined him, guiding her fellow overdukes together. "Or I'd not even have dared cook this snake. Such bolts don't bow to royalty." The Dwaer had protected her against the flash of its own strike, and Blackgult had anticipated her deed and clapped a hand over his eyes, but the others were still blinking blearily at the near darkness around them.
Embra sighed, made the Dwaer glow gently, and ignored the bats-a trio now, at least-flapping around her. "Come on," she said. "Run, and I'll try to touch and heal as we go. We've got to catch them before they get to a-"
Even as she spoke, she saw that there was a well room ahead, with six passages leading out of it. When she let her Dwaer go out and brought blinding darkness down on them all, she could see no torch-glow ahead, anywhere.
The Lady of jewels cursed as coarsely as any warrior, and then reached out with her Dwaer and started banishing the hurt she'd done to the overdukes stumbling blindly around her.
Then, shaking her head, she led them on, the Dwaer leaping again to golden life. Craer bounded into