Read Online Dark Sun: Prism Pentad 3 - The Amber Enchantress by Troy Denning - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Troy Denning
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Milo's back. When the sorceress reached his side, she saw that a halfling had risen from the center of a spinifex bush and attacked. The warrior's eyes were gleaming yellow as he pushed his small spear further into Milo's body.
Screaming in anger, the sorceress brought the obsidian pommel of her cane down on the halfling's tangled mess of hair. It struck with a sharp crack, and the halfling collapsed in a heap.
Milo dropped his sword and stared at the spear in his stomach with disbelieving eyes. As the captain pitched onto his face, something rustled behind Sadira. She spun around and saw a halfling crawling toward her on his belly. The sorceress did not give him a chance to stand. She leaped to the warrior's side and smashed his head again and again with her cane.
Sadira heard a set of heavy footsteps, then looked around to see Osa's bulky form rushing toward her. The mul was limping badly, and the sorceress could see the shaft of a barbed spear protruding from the woman's thigh.
Osa
stopped at
Milo
's side and felt his pulse. When she detected no heartbeat, the mul kissed him in a last farewell, then snatched up his sword and looked to the sorceress. “Go!” she said, nodding toward the dune from which her husband and Sadira had come.
I'm sorry about
—
"
Sadira did not have a chance to finish her apology, for Osa leaped to her feet and resumed her sprint across the moonlit field. The sorceress ran after the limping mul, but could not keep up even at her best pace.
As they approached the shadows where Sadira and Milo had hidden, several trills sounded ahead. Sadira stopped immediately, realizing a group of halflings was lurking in the darkness. Osa continued on, oblivious to the sounds.
The sorceress pointed the palm of one hand toward the ground, spreading her fingers apart. Shutting out all other thoughts, she focused her mind on her hand, summoning the energy for a spell. The air beneath her palm shimmered, then power began to rise from the ground into Sadira's body. As soon as she felt the surge weaken, the half-elf closed her fist and cut off the flow. If she had pulled more energy into her body, she would have killed the plants from which she drew it, defiling the soil and rendering it barren for ages to come. By stopping when she had, however, the sorceress had caused no permanent damage to the land. Within a day, the shrubs would recover their lost life-force and continue to grow as if they had never been tapped.
By the time Sadira had gathered the power for her spell, a small group of halflings had moved to the edge of the field. Osa raised her sword and they raised their spears. Sadira grabbed a handful of pebbles from the ground and, uttering her incantation, threw them toward the warriors.
The stones shot past Osa with a loud clap of thunder. Each missile struck a target square in the chest, knocking the halfling off his feet and sending him sprawling to the ground in a spray of blood.
The sorceress had no chance to gloat over her victory, for another halfling cried out behind her. Sadira hazarded a glance over her shoulder and saw the silhouette of a warrior gesturing in her direction. Wasting no more time, the half-elf rushed to Osa's side and pulled the mul into the sands. Together, they ran into the shadows of the large dune and stopped there to see what the halflings would do next.
“You throw rocks?” Osa asked, her eyes fixed on the halflings that the magical stones had killed.
Sadira nodded, wondering whether it would be better to sneak or run back to the campsite. Either way, there was no doubt that they should stay in the shadowy troughs between the dunes. Like half-elves, muls could perceive ambient heat when there was not enough light to see otherwise.
As Sadira was considering the problem, dozens of trills sounded from the other side of the field. She looked toward the sounds, but could sec nothing beyond the open expanse of moonlit ground. The half-elf stepped
Screaming in anger, the sorceress brought the obsidian pommel of her cane down on the halfling's tangled mess of hair. It struck with a sharp crack, and the halfling collapsed in a heap.
Milo dropped his sword and stared at the spear in his stomach with disbelieving eyes. As the captain pitched onto his face, something rustled behind Sadira. She spun around and saw a halfling crawling toward her on his belly. The sorceress did not give him a chance to stand. She leaped to the warrior's side and smashed his head again and again with her cane.
Sadira heard a set of heavy footsteps, then looked around to see Osa's bulky form rushing toward her. The mul was limping badly, and the sorceress could see the shaft of a barbed spear protruding from the woman's thigh.
Osa
stopped at
Milo
's side and felt his pulse. When she detected no heartbeat, the mul kissed him in a last farewell, then snatched up his sword and looked to the sorceress. “Go!” she said, nodding toward the dune from which her husband and Sadira had come.
I'm sorry about
—
"
Sadira did not have a chance to finish her apology, for Osa leaped to her feet and resumed her sprint across the moonlit field. The sorceress ran after the limping mul, but could not keep up even at her best pace.
As they approached the shadows where Sadira and Milo had hidden, several trills sounded ahead. Sadira stopped immediately, realizing a group of halflings was lurking in the darkness. Osa continued on, oblivious to the sounds.
The sorceress pointed the palm of one hand toward the ground, spreading her fingers apart. Shutting out all other thoughts, she focused her mind on her hand, summoning the energy for a spell. The air beneath her palm shimmered, then power began to rise from the ground into Sadira's body. As soon as she felt the surge weaken, the half-elf closed her fist and cut off the flow. If she had pulled more energy into her body, she would have killed the plants from which she drew it, defiling the soil and rendering it barren for ages to come. By stopping when she had, however, the sorceress had caused no permanent damage to the land. Within a day, the shrubs would recover their lost life-force and continue to grow as if they had never been tapped.
By the time Sadira had gathered the power for her spell, a small group of halflings had moved to the edge of the field. Osa raised her sword and they raised their spears. Sadira grabbed a handful of pebbles from the ground and, uttering her incantation, threw them toward the warriors.
The stones shot past Osa with a loud clap of thunder. Each missile struck a target square in the chest, knocking the halfling off his feet and sending him sprawling to the ground in a spray of blood.
The sorceress had no chance to gloat over her victory, for another halfling cried out behind her. Sadira hazarded a glance over her shoulder and saw the silhouette of a warrior gesturing in her direction. Wasting no more time, the half-elf rushed to Osa's side and pulled the mul into the sands. Together, they ran into the shadows of the large dune and stopped there to see what the halflings would do next.
“You throw rocks?” Osa asked, her eyes fixed on the halflings that the magical stones had killed.
Sadira nodded, wondering whether it would be better to sneak or run back to the campsite. Either way, there was no doubt that they should stay in the shadowy troughs between the dunes. Like half-elves, muls could perceive ambient heat when there was not enough light to see otherwise.
As Sadira was considering the problem, dozens of trills sounded from the other side of the field. She looked toward the sounds, but could sec nothing beyond the open expanse of moonlit ground. The half-elf stepped
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