The Fading Dream_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [41]
That instant was all that Thorn needed. She threw herself forward, racing across the clearing. She closed the distance in three steps, grabbing the shaft of his spear with one hand and pulling hard as she planted a quick kick squarely in his chest. The warrior staggered back, gasping for air and releasing the spear. Thorn wasn’t finished. She could feel the archers stepping out from behind their tree cover. Dropping the spear, she vaulted forward, flipping over the shocked soldier and landing directly behind him. Not a moment too soon, as an arrow intended for her slammed into the shoulder of the fey knight. Spinning around, Thorn wrapped one arm around the warrior’s neck. She summoned Steel into her free hand, setting the point against the throat of the eladrin soldier. She knew where the archers were and kept the body of the knight between them.
“Why don’t you show yourselves and lay down your weapons,” she called out as Cadrel and Drix gaped at her. “And perhaps we can sort this out peacefully.”
What happened next was too quick for the mind to follow. One moment she was holding the knight by the throat. Then her arms were empty. And there were four spear points leveled at her chest—four grim eladrin in redleaf armor and darkwood helms surrounding her. The two archers were also in the clearing, both covering Essyn Cadrel. Nothing could move so quickly; they’d teleported, crossing space in the blink of an eye. Thorn could see the tension in the spearmen. They were ready to strike the moment she moved, and they were surrounding her on all sides.
“So perhaps you won’t be laying the weapons down,” Thorn said. She slowly raised her hands. “I’m sure we can still sort this out peacefully. What do you think?”
The last words were directed to Steel more than to the eladrin. She hadn’t expected the balance of power to shift quite so quickly, but it was what she was there for—to learn as much as she could about the threat posed by the feyspire.
Their gear is on par with Cannith third-tier enchantments—the leaves are stronger than steel scales, Steel reported quickly. More important—there’s an extraplanar resonance clinging to the ones that jumped. I won’t try to explain, but they won’t be able to repeat that trick for some time.
The fey warriors were waiting for a signal from their commander. Thorn could feel the knight in the horned helm standing behind her, smell the blood flowing from his wounded shoulder. She remained still as he brushed her hair aside, studying the shard embedded in her spine.
“You have spirit, young one,” he said. “But spirit alone is not enough to earn you a welcome in the City of the Silver Tree. And this stone does not belong with you; we shall take it from your bones.”
“Don’t do this, Casoran.” Drix had been silent, but he took a step forward. “She’s innocent. As I was.”
“Be silent and still, Marudrix. You do not command my blade.”
“No, you serve the Silver Lady. And it was she who told me to return when I had found the stone wrapped in Thorn. Would you defy her?”
The eladrin took a step back, letting Thorn’s hair fall down to cover the stone. “I am the guardian of this path. Do not presume to tell me what to do.”
For a moment, the eyes of the eladrin were on Drix, and that moment was all Thorn needed. She could channel only a limited amount of mystical energy at a time, and she knew only a few tricks, but those spells had proven invaluable in the past. She could alter her appearance with an illusionary guise. She could hide all trace of her passage. She could leap great distances or scale sheer walls with the ease of a spider.
And she could turn invisible.
It was a difficult spell, requiring constant concentration, and the cloak was shattered if she took any sort of hostile action. But when she was surrounded by enemies, it was the perfect thing. She’d woven the arcane patterns in her mind as Drix argued with the horned knight, and when she released it, she vanished from sight.
The eladrin surrounding her thrust their spears forward, but they met