The Kingless Land - Ed Greenwood [118]
Her ribs took a heavy blow, her sky was darkened by fast-descending warrior, and Hawkril Anharu crashed to the ground, chin bouncing, as purple fire spat again, scorching the stones a few feet in front of him. Something small out of that inferno struck the armaragor's cheek, and Embra, winded and floundering under a pair of large and heavy shins, distinctly heard flesh sizzle, followed by Hawkril's soft curse.
"Hawk," she gasped. "Hawkril, listen!"
A rising growl of fury was her reply-and boots that weren't at all gentle scraped and scrabbled around her as the armaragor gained his knees and turned with frightening speed to catch hold of her by the fabric covering one shoulder. Hot eyes glared into hers. "What?"
Embra panted for breath, suddenly awed by the warrior's strength, and gasped out, "If you rush out there, he can't miss you! How will that help Craer?"
"Lady," the armaragor snarled, "Craer Delnbone is my oldest friend in the worl-"
"And perhaps he'll remain so," the sorceress snapped, "if you can keep him alive. To do that, we need Sarasper unharmed. To manage that, we need that guard gone." She clasped slim fingers to his shoulders and shook him with all her strength; she fluttered like a leaf in a gale, but he held firm. She shouted into his face anyway. "Listen to me!"
The armaragor blinked at her and then barked simply, "Talk."
"I need you to rise up, but then get right down again, once he fires the scepter. I'll need that time to see him and finish my spell. If the Three stand with us, that should shatter his shield."
"Shield? My swor-"
"Not that sort of shield. The spell I sent at him struck something-a spell of his, a barrier-and so did the little stone Craer threw to ruin his aim. That mage is standing behind a wall of magic."
Fire spat again, they heard Sarasper sob from somewhere in the spreading smoke, and earth and gravel spattered the other side of the wall they were crouching behind.
Hawkril's head snapped around to peer in the direction of the unseen guard for a moment, then he looked straight back into Embra's eyes and snarled, "Lead, then. Tell me when you're ready for me to do this little dance." He hefted the heavy war sword in his hand meaningfully, face still hard, and something in his eyes made Embra shiver.
She drew in a deep breath, turned herself to face the wall and the guard beyond, closed her hand around another of her dwindling store of knickknacks, and said softly, "Do it now."
A stone rolled as the armaragor moved, rocking his shoulders to make it look like he was rushing forward when no scepter spat fire in the first moment. Then purple fire roared out once more, and Embra shot up to peer through the smoke as the air beside her sizzled. There!
She fancied that distant eyes met hers, just for a moment, as she calmly and precisely spoke the last words of the spell-and lightnings of black tinged with purple flashed out of her hands, wrestling at the air as they leaped forward through the smokes in a spectacular crawling that arched up and over a suddenly staggering figure.
Beside her, there was sudden movement, something whipped through the air, almost singing as it went-and Hawkril stood watching grimly as his hurled blade cut through spark-strewn air, end over end.
Steel spun about a throat, and a scepter exploded in a whirling wash of light. Hands spasmed in pain-and in a sudden burst of purple fury, the second scepter exploded, hurling stony rubble and small cantles of wizard in all directions.
Hawkril didn't wait for the gruesome rain to settle. He had a dagger out and was lumbering around the end of the wall even before Embra could swallow at the sight of a ragged torso toppling out of sight. She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and ran after him.
Somewhere ahead, Sarasper was sobbing weakly. They caught sight of him, staggering dazedly through the smoke, and he looked up at them with pleading eyes and mumbled, "I can't find him."
There was a small sound from the smokes above, and even as Hawkril whipped back his knife for