The Kingless Land - Ed Greenwood [148]
Amid its singing shards Ingryl lost a lot of blood, bouncing hard as the frame spun around and collapsed on top of him, and as one elbow struck the floor, he lost his grip on the Stone of War.
Craer bounded after it, but Ingryl didn't have to rise to aim one hand along the floor and gasp the word that smashed the procurer across the room in a web of flames.
Craer screamed and fell. The Spellmaster laughed and flung aside the mirror frame to get up and finish off the procurer with the last flamefist.
Embra called on her Stone and her failing control of the castle once more. The scorched carpet underneath both Spellmaster and procurer reared up wildly, spilling both men into the air. Flames caught one of Craer's hands but spent the rest of their fury on walls and carpet as Ingryl was dashed face-first into the floor, spitting curses-and as she'd served the armaragor, Embra also aided Craer, plucking the sorely wounded procurer out onto the river balcony.
There was a grunt of triumph, then, that made both mages turn their heads. Sarasper Codelmer was rising to his feet with the Stone of War clutched firmly in his hands. Anger twisted his face as he turned and glared at the Spellmaster.
Then he came to a swaying halt, his eyes blazing.
Sarasper, I am Old Oak. I command thee. Blast this woman and the two men out on the balcony, with all the fires the Stone can hurl. Blast them all. I command thee! 1 am Old Oak. STRIKE NOW!
Lying on his side on the crumpled carpet, Ingryl Ambelter let his "god" voice fall silent as he willed Sarasper to turn-and raised both of his own hands and hurled a dozen firelances at Embra Silvertree.
Only her Stone could shield her against so many seeking deaths. As Embra called on it, Sarasper turned again, and the Stone in the healer's hands spat red and black ravening fire at her.
Desperately Embra dropped the shield she was raising, and out of its chaos whirled herself and Sarasper out onto the balcony, spinning the healer around once more to send the war fire of the Stone out over the river, away from them all.
It melted the very stones of the floor as it went, cutting cleanly through floorboards, pillars, furniture and all in a dark slash of disintegration that took her breath away. What in all Darsar could stand against that?
The war fire swept out into the empty sky, and Ingryl snarled another spell: a simple enchantment bonfire wizards use, a noose of force that lasted for only the instants needed to trip the legs of a warrior… or an aging healer with the most potent weapon in all Darsar in his hands.
As Sarasper toppled, the war fire lashed upward- and a turret of the castle directly above him exploded into huge shards of stone and started to fall. Ingryl kept the noose to the very end, rolling the old man over and over. War fire sheared through the balcony beneath the healer, cutting it away from Castle Silvertree.
As it started to fall, and the shattered turret thundered down the fortress wall after it, the Living Castle poured its pain into Embra-pain such as she'd never known before.
She screamed out her agony, clinging to just enough wits in its red roaring to bend all the power she and the Stone in her bleeding hands had left into thrusting the falling turret sideways to veer in through her shattered rooms, right at the Spellmaster now rolling across the carpet toward the safety of an open doorway.
The turret crashed into her chambers in a scouring flood of tumbling stone, rushing across the carpet as a grinding, shrieking chaos of shattered rock.
Ingryl's dying scream didn't last long. Two stones ground him to liquid between them in an instant, in their thundering haste to roll the width of the castle and see the gardens for themselves. They made it, too.
No one stood watching. Embra Silvertree was shuddering and arching uncontrollably, her raw, throat-stripping scream echoing from end to end of Silvertree Isle, as the broken balcony, the Band of Four, and both Dwaerindim crashed down into the river below.
The Silverflow swallowed them, and but for