The Magehound - Elaine Cunningham [130]
An anguished roar sent her spinning toward the battle, a scream that carried magic as the wind carried seeds. The fighters had learned from Matteo's bold move, and they focused their attacks on the soft tissue beneath the creature's arms, inside its thighs, under its tail. The laraken was weaving on its feet, bristling with arrows and spears and looking like an enormous, hideous hedgehog. But it still lived, and it slashed out wildly with its clawed hands.
Instinctively Kiva's hand went to her leg. The creature had slashed her with those claws, tiny at the time of its birth but still sharp enough to tear down to the bone. She bore the scars still, as well as other, deeper wounds to her body and her spirit.
But it wasn't a mother's instinct that lured her to the laraken's side. All Kiva knew was that the laraken was near death and that all that she had worked for was at risk.
With a terrible keening scream, the magehound summoned her magic and prepared to destroy her own army.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tzigone heard Kiva's cry and knew with certainty that the magehound intended yet another betrayal.
Her gaze skimmed the battlefield. Over half the fighters had fallen, but the survivors were wearing the laraken down at last. It continued to press toward her tree, compelled by the magic of her song, and each pace took it farther from the source of its power.
A shimmer of silvery motes appeared over the bubbling spring, spreading and smoothing out into a large silver form. A bucket, Tzigone realized, and she had little doubt what the magehound intended to do.
Kiva snatched the bucket from the air and dipped it into the magic-rich water.
She hurried forward, ready to hurl it at the weakening laraken.
Tzigone broke off her song at last, for it was impossible to sing and curse at the same time. She squared her shoulders as she muttered a few arcane words and then flung out one hand, throwing one of the few wizard spells she knew.
A huge fireball streaked toward the elf woman, arching over the laraken's head and trailing light like a comet. As Tzigone expected, much of the fireball's power was siphoned off by the magic-draining monster. It fell toward Kiva, fading and shrinking dramatically until it was no larger or brighter than an orange.
But it was large enough for Tzigone's purpose. The diminished fireball splashed into the bucket with a searing hiss. Steam rose, and water bubbled over the rim.
The elf woman shrieked and dropped the bucket, shaking her scalded hands. She whirled toward Tzigone's tree, her wild eyes searching for her attacker. The wemic came to her side, standing ready for whatever command she gave.
Tzigone began to sing again, calling the swamp creatures to her aid. A score or so of stirges answered her call and dived at the elf woman, humming in their droning voices, a grim harmony to Tzigone's song.
Kiva set her feet wide and delivered a series of fireballs. Each of the glowing missiles divided again and again as it flew, and the shards took off in search of the darting stirges. Giant mosquitoes sizzled and popped as the seeking fireballs found their targets. The surviving stirges scattered in frantic flight, closely pursued by balls of killing flame.
Kiva retaliated with a swift, angry gesture. A glowing arrow sizzled toward Tzigone. But it could not strike. It was no true arrow, but magical energy shaped into a bolt. It stopped short of its target, so suddenly that it seemed to splat against an invisible wall. Now shaped more like a plate than an arrow, the missile fell to the ground and seared the earth beneath it as it cooled.
Tzigone kept singing. A pair of centaurs came to her call, their thundering hooves echoing above the sound of battle. She grimaced. These creatures had little to do with men and were more likely to side with the beleaguered elf. But the centaurs took one look at the men engaging the