The Temptation of Elminster - Ed Greenwood [70]
Twice cobwebs brushed his face on his brisk jaunt along the Long Gallery, telling him the Lady Master hadn't passed this way recently…certainly not mere minutes ago.
The doors of the Balcony Hall stood open, star-studded smoke swirling gently out, the Lady had spun a spell-shield to protect her castle. This was to be a test, then, or a duel in earnest. He held the books in a stack out before him as he entered, and murmured, "I am come, Lady Master."
The books floated up out of his grasp toward the balcony, and from its height Dasumia said softly, "Close the doors and bar them, Apprentice."
El glanced up as he turned back to the doors. She was wearing a mask, and her hair was stirring about her shoulders as if winds were blowing through it. Spell-globes floated above and behind her, El saw much of her jewelry hanging in one, and the books were heading for another. Real magic was to be unleashed here.
He settled the bar and secured its chains without haste, giving her the time she needed to be absolutely ready. When facing the spells of a sorceress who can destroy you at will, it's best to give her little cause for irritation.
When he turned back into the room, the last glowspell had dimmed to a row of glimmering lights around the balcony rail, he could no longer see the sorceress who stood somewhere above him.
"It is time, and past time, Elminster, for me to assay this. Defend yourself as you're able…and strike back to slay, not gently."
Sudden light burst forth from on high: white, searing light that boiled forth at him from the face, bodice, and cupped hands of his Lady Master. Did she know of his treacheries?
Time enough to learn such things later… if he lived to enjoy a "later." El spun a hand vortex to catch it and sent it back at her, diving away when its fury proved too powerful for his defense, and broke his vortex apart in a snarling explosion that awakened shortlived fires here and there about the floor of the Hall. El spellsnatched one of them and threw it up at her, in hopes of spoiling another casting. It flickered as it plunged wide, but its brief radiance showed him Dasumia standing as rigid as a post, with silver bands of magic whipping about her…bands that became flailing chains as they rattled free of her and hurtled down upon him.
He danced across the Hall, to win himself the few moments they'd need to chase after him, then put his hands together in a spellburst that shattered them. He'd placed and angled himself so as to spit the unused fire of his spell up at the balcony, wondering how long his dozen or so defensive or versatile spells could serve him against the gathered might of her magic.
This time, some of it reached her, he heard her gasp, and saw her throw her head back, hair swirling, in the blazing moment when her spell-shield failed under the searing, clawing assault of his strike.
Then he glimpsed the flash of her teeth as she smiled, and felt the first cold whisper of fear. Now would come agony, if she could burst through his defenses to bring him down. And sooner or later…probably sooner…she would bring him down.
Purple lightning spat out of dark nothingness in a dozen places along the balcony rail, and lanced down into the Hall, ricocheting here, there, and everywhere. El spun a swift armoring spell but felt burning agony above one elbow, and in the opposing thigh…and crashed bruisingly to the stone floor, biting his tongue as he grunted back a scream. His body bounced and writhed helplessly as lightning surged through it, he fought to breathe now, not to weave spells or craft tactics. Yet perhaps the tatters of his failing, fading armoring could be used to hurl her lightning back…for she'd spent no time to raise another spell-shield for herself.
El crawled and rolled, blindly and agonizingly, seeking to be out of the searing surge of the lightning, to where he could gasp for breath and make his limbs obey.
A rising whistling sound just above his head told El his armoring had survived…and could turn lightning