The Vacant Throne - Ed Greenwood [40]
They needed him. They needed his wits, his healings, and his fire to fight… or they might all die here. But how to call up that fire again?
"Embra?" he called, looking up in time to see the longfangs scramble at last up onto the balcony amid a clattering cascade of dislodged stones. "Embra, I need you here!"
The longfangs was questing this way and that, shuffling and peering hesitantly, seeking-
Finding. From out of the darkness thrust a torrent of dark wings, striking as swift and keen as a swordblade, right into the wolf-spider's maw, overwhelming its roar and hurling it right off its feet, neck twisting as it tumbled. Its shriek of rage and alarm became a cacophony of choking gurglings; black wings beat and flapped furiously-and by sheer determination the conjured creature drove the longfangs into the break in the wall and stuffed it into the space beyond in a tangle of raking, scrabbling limbs.
The nightwyrm was already fading away as Craer watched. "By the Three," he told the chamber fervently, "I'd not want to have any mage hunting me!"
Embra staggered out of the darkness then, sobbing. She fell heavily to her knees, clutching her head in obvious pain, and gasped, "Whatever now, Craer?"
"Lady," Craer hissed, "I need you here. It's Sarasper! He's-"
The Lady of Jewels flung back her head, pain sharp on her face, and said wearily, "Still dying, yes?"
Craer scrambled to his feet. "Yes," he snapped. "Yes, he is. Can you help… or are sorceresses only good for blasting and burning and deceiving?"
Embra Silvertree crawled a little way along the edge of the balcony on her hands and knees, lifting dark eyes to look across the many-pillared chamber at him. "If you're goading me, Craer, please stop. If you truly want an answer, I'd have to say… yes." She closed her eyes and sank down onto the stones.
"Gods above!" Craer shouted, "is everyone going to lie down and die on me?"
The longfangs answered him with a wet roar that bespoke pain but more fury, and he heard furious scrapings as it sought to untangle itself from the cleft into which it had been thrust, and win free once more. To stalk, Craer supposed, the only thing still standing in the Silent House: procurers.
Desperation made him swift. A few gasping moments of plunging across stones that turned underfoot, and he was reaching up to touch the Lady Silvertree's face, where Embra lay huddled with her head half over the edge of the crumbling balcony.
"Lady!" he said, shaking her as vigorously as he dared. "Lady!"
"Craer," the sorceress murmured, "if you want me to see to Sarasper, you're going to have to carry me to him."
"I can't," Craer snarled into her face. "I'm not big enough!" And then he set his teeth, reached up to catch hold of her shoulders, and hauled.
She came over the edge like a full grainsack, smashing him flat to the floor, and they groaned in unison. The longfangs roared in angry answer, and Embra squirmed atop Craer, her knees and elbows bruising him as she struggled unsteadily to her feet.
"Help me, Craer," she husked, staggering forward. "I… can't…"
"Strangely enough," he said, wincing and limping his way to where he could put an arm around her shoulders, "I've noticed that!"
A smooth and shockingly firm breast was pressing against his cheek. Craer drew in a deep breath of the fragrance Embra wore, sighed it out again, and guided her forward. As the longfangs roared again, louder and more eager this time, the thought came to him that if he started to hum, she couldn't help but be made a little more awake; she'd feel the thrumming in her chest, and…
He hummed as they picked their way across rocks, until Embra chuckled into his ear and said warningly, "If you set me to laughing, I won't be able to do whatever it is you want me to do before the longfangs devours us all!"
"I'll risk it," Craer told her happily. "Anything to get you away from just lying there waiting to be eaten, like Hawk and Sass."
His determined words brought them to the healer. Sarasper was still