The Dragon's Doom - Ed Greenwood [163]
A deeper, booming blast nearly hurled Embra off her feet as she skidded around a corner, and was followed by a smaller, splintering crash.
They were very close now, and through all the tumult of spell-blasts and things breaking and the shouts of guards she could hear the slobbering snarls of a marauding beast. Then she heard Hawkril's voice raised in a great bellow: "'Away! Away, monster, or die!"
Embra raced barefoot around a corner, startling an onrushing guard, and burst into a room that no longer had a door, and was now busily spilling smoke and firelight out into the passage.
Her father was bounding about a room that was all splintered, burning furniture, naked and snarling. There was foam around his mouth, his eyes were wild, and he carried his Dwaer carelessly in one hand, as if he'd forgotten what it was.
Stalking ever closer to Blackgult as he ran, trying to corner him, was a young sorceress whose face was a glowing skull. A dead chambermaid lay sprawled on the floor amid the splayed and splintered wreckage of Blackgult's great bed, and guards lay here and there about the room, moaning and kicking feebly. Just two of them still had weapons up-and they were hunched against a wall, pale fear ruling their faces.
As Hawkril charged the skull-sorceress, a spell ripped out of her hands at him. The armaragor dived one way and Blackgult bounded in the other direction, whirling the glowing Dwaer around his head like a trophy.
The sorceress ran toward the Golden Griffon, and the guards launched themselves from the wall in a desperate charge at her. On the other side of the room, Hawkril shouted in pain as the spell tore into the walls above him, hurling shards and slivers of wall panels and furniture in all directions.
Embra let fly with her own Dwaer, straight at that skull-head. The fingers of the sorceress were sprouting sudden shafts of crackling light, and where they thrust, guards were screaming and staggering. One man blundered into Embra's striking magic and was flung away, torn and dying.
Blackgult slew another guard bare-handed, wrenching a helmed head around until the neck below it cracked.
Embra's thrust of Dwaer-fire slammed into the crackling spell of the sorceress, and the room rocked with an ear-ringing blast. Blackgult was hurled aside, his Dwaer flying from his hands to bounce off in another direction, and the sorceress was sent staggering backwards.
Bare but for his boots, a moaning Hawkril slowly found his feet, splinters sticking out of his side and back like blades. He stalked across the room toward the sorceress, who crouched, awaiting him, and began to weave a new spell.
Tight-lipped, Embra sent another Dwaer-blast at her. Its fury made the discarded Stone flare up into bright radiance, and the skull-face turned to regard the glow of the fallen Dwaer.
Desperately, the Lady of Jewels called on her Stone to snatch her to a particular flagstone of the floor just beside the other Dwaer. She dared not seek it directly, for fear of her magic going wild or Blackgult's Stone being driven away by her magic. The skull-sorceress was running hard, and diving for the Stone.
Blackgult roared, another guard in his hands, and whirled the man around his head. Strangling and helpless, the guard let go of his sword-and it spun right into Hawkril, sinking deep. The armaragor went to his knees in gasping pain, as Embra screamed: "Hawk!"… and her magic whisked her away.
She landed on the spot she'd chosen-and a heavy, armored body, stinking with fear, smashed into hers, slammed her to the floor, and rolled away, whimpering in terror. Blackgult had thrown the guard in just the wrong direction, at just the wrong time.
Gasping for breath, Embra rolled over, fumbling for her Dwaer-and looked up into the triumphant grin of the skull-sorceress, who was rising with a glowing Stone in her own hands.
Raging, Blackgult ran at the sorceress, his hands lifted