The Kingless Land - Ed Greenwood [59]
"Should we go back?" Hawkril rumbled.
"And fight our way through all Silvertree, with my father's mages hurling spells at our backsides with every step?" Embra replied. "I don't think so."
The glows atop the tomb suddenly coalesced into a ghostly figure-a bald man in robes, perhaps, though its hands looked barbed and scaled-which raised spectral arms to trace a glowing pattern in the air.
The Lady of Jewels stared thoughtfully at the floating symbol for a moment, and then lifted her fingers to shape a sign of her own.
The spectral figure responded by pointing at her-and lightnings spat blue-white from its fingers to strike her.
The bolts veered to one of Embra's upraised hands and then snapped to the other. Her companions saw her wince and waver, and there was pain in her face as the sorceress gathered the lightning in a nimbus around her shoulders, adding something of her own that put rosy flickerings into its blue-white coilings and then hurled it back.
In the roaring that followed, they saw the ghostly guardian become a faint shadow. Embra snapped quickly, "All of you-raise no weapon against it! Spread apart! Set down blades and other metal!"
Then she raised her hands and hurled something else at the figure-a soft, shimmering wave of force that seemed to drink the radiances ringing the casket as it swept over them. It passed over the ghostly figure and washed back from the far wall of the chamber, and when it receded again into Embra's hands, there was nothing atop the tomb but empty darkness.
The Lady of Jewels staggered and almost fell.
Before her companions could reach her, she'd stumbled forward to lean against the tomb where the guardian had been only moments before.
Embra clung to the worn stone for support and turned haunted eyes to meet their concerned gazes. "Whatever sign of recognition it was looking for, I guessed wrong," she gasped. 'This tomb must be older than I thought."
Sarasper put his arms around her. She tried to shake him off, reeled, and almost fell. As she recovered, leaning against the tomb again, two of the bracelets on her arm crumbled away and fell. They were dust before they hit the floor.
Hawkril looked down at them and then at Craer and Sarasper. "Drained by Embra's magic," they said in unison, and lifted their gazes to look again at the pale-faced Silvertree heiress, leaning wearily against the tomb.
"Drained by Embra's magic," Hawkril repeated. Magic that also seemed to be draining her…
Sarasper, looking troubled, stepped forward to put an arm around Embra, helping her to walk. After a few steps, she turned her face into his shoulder and shook silently; they knew she was weeping.
Wordlessly, Hawkril extended one hand, holding it out to Sarasper palm up and empty.
The healer looked at it, then at the sorceress shivering against his shoulder, and lifted his eyes to the armaragor's face.
Hawkril nodded slowly, and Sarasper reached out and took the proffered hand.
A moment later, the healer's skin began to glow as life energy flowed through it, from warrior to wizard. A few moments later, both of them gasped in ragged pain… but neither moved to break the flow.
Twice more they saw ghosts gliding in the ways before them, but none hurled spells at them-for which the white-faced and stumbling Lady of Jewels seemed grateful. It was a grim and weary Band of Four that halted in a chamber empty of all but dust and lacking any visible doors or side entrances. In their haste, they'd brought neither food nor water, but sleep was one thing they could find, and did.
The exhausted Embra fell asleep at once. Craer, Hawkril, and Sarasper stood over her for long enough to agree on watches, and the healer took the first one.
He was alone with sighing and snoring in a very short time but knew better than to sit or lie down beside his companions. Leaving the glowstone in their midst, he strolled back and forth around the room, listening for distant sounds in the dark passages.
After a time, he cocked