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Authors: Richard Lee Byers
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body. They’d fled as directed, but the faerie dragon was starting to wheel back around.
“Go!” Taegan shouted.
The Hermit lunged at him, cutting off his view, then pressing him so fiercely he had no opportunity for another look. He couldn’t tell if his friend had heeded him or not.
The corpse tearer snarled an incantation, and Taegan felt a pang of ache and dullness shoot through him. His magical augmentations to his innate capacities disappeared, stripped away by the Hermit’s counterspell. The reptile followed up by spewing a blast of its smoky breath, but with a beat of his pinions, Taegan jerked himself clear. The vapor’s stink churned his guts and set him shuddering even so. The linnorn lifted its talons to shred him before he could recover, but then it faltered. Perhaps Dorn or Raryn had given it a particularly painful wound.
Regaining control of his limbs, Taegan thrust, dodged, and continued to evade. His heart hammered, and he panted. Were Kara and Jivex far enough away? Since he didn’t
see them and couldn’t divert his attention from the Hermit to look about, he’d simply have to assume so, for Sune knew, he couldn’t continue this way much longer.
He whispered an incantation, meanwhile continuing to defend with as much agility and vigor as before, for that was a bladesinger’s art. His swordsman’s magic was far more limited than the average wizard’s store of charms, but he could conjure and fence simultaneously.
Talons lashed at him. He dived below the stroke and articulated the final word of his spell. Power prickled across his skin and momentarily turned the drifting fog a ghostly blue, but otherwise, nothing seemed to happen.
He hadn’t known precisely what to expect, but he’d hoped for something. Perhaps the linnorn would hesitate, or leave itself vulnerable in some way. Instead, it simply kept on attacking, and, he suspected, there truly was no hope. For him, anyway. If he could keep the creature busy for a little longer, maybe one or two of his friends could escape.
He evaded raking talons, cut the Hermit’s haunch, and the reptile growled words of power. Taegan’s body stiffened into absolute rigidity. Unable to flap his wings, he plummeted.
He had little doubt the fall would kill him, but the Hermit evidently wanted to make sure. It plunged after him like a hawk swooping to catch a pigeon in its claws.
But it didn’t use its talons to pierce him, nor its grip, painfully tight though it was, to crush him. Instead, leveling out of its descent, it recited another spell that gave him back the use of his body. Not that he could use it for much at the moment.
“What did you do to me?” the Hermit snarled, its voice a rasping, discordant rumble like a scrape of blades and distant thunder muddled together. It spoke Elvish with an accent Taegan had never heard before. “I feel it squirming in my mind!”
“Ah,” Taegan wheezed. With the enormous digits clamping his torso, he could scarcely draw sufficient breath to speak. “That would be the Rage. Phourkyn One-Eye taught
me a spell to crumble any wyrm’s defenses instantaneously. I must compliment you. Most dragons, experiencing frenzy all of a sudden, go berserk. They certainly aren’t capable of conducting a civilized conversation.”
“I’m no dragon. My kind and theirs diverged eons ago.” “Apparently,” said Taegan, “not quite far enough for comfort’s sake.”
“Lift the curse!”
“A wise request, for, left to fester, it will obliterate your reason. I haven’t actually mastered the charm for dampening it, but fortunately, Lady Karasendrieththe song dragon has. Once you agree to conduct yourself in a more hospitable manner, I’m sure she’ll be delighted to oblige you.”
The Hermit glared. “I don’t succumb to threats. I’ll slaughter you all, raise you as my lifeless slaves, and command the song dragon to cleanse me of this taint.”
“That would be ill-advised. Who can say with
“Go!” Taegan shouted.
The Hermit lunged at him, cutting off his view, then pressing him so fiercely he had no opportunity for another look. He couldn’t tell if his friend had heeded him or not.
The corpse tearer snarled an incantation, and Taegan felt a pang of ache and dullness shoot through him. His magical augmentations to his innate capacities disappeared, stripped away by the Hermit’s counterspell. The reptile followed up by spewing a blast of its smoky breath, but with a beat of his pinions, Taegan jerked himself clear. The vapor’s stink churned his guts and set him shuddering even so. The linnorn lifted its talons to shred him before he could recover, but then it faltered. Perhaps Dorn or Raryn had given it a particularly painful wound.
Regaining control of his limbs, Taegan thrust, dodged, and continued to evade. His heart hammered, and he panted. Were Kara and Jivex far enough away? Since he didn’t
see them and couldn’t divert his attention from the Hermit to look about, he’d simply have to assume so, for Sune knew, he couldn’t continue this way much longer.
He whispered an incantation, meanwhile continuing to defend with as much agility and vigor as before, for that was a bladesinger’s art. His swordsman’s magic was far more limited than the average wizard’s store of charms, but he could conjure and fence simultaneously.
Talons lashed at him. He dived below the stroke and articulated the final word of his spell. Power prickled across his skin and momentarily turned the drifting fog a ghostly blue, but otherwise, nothing seemed to happen.
He hadn’t known precisely what to expect, but he’d hoped for something. Perhaps the linnorn would hesitate, or leave itself vulnerable in some way. Instead, it simply kept on attacking, and, he suspected, there truly was no hope. For him, anyway. If he could keep the creature busy for a little longer, maybe one or two of his friends could escape.
He evaded raking talons, cut the Hermit’s haunch, and the reptile growled words of power. Taegan’s body stiffened into absolute rigidity. Unable to flap his wings, he plummeted.
He had little doubt the fall would kill him, but the Hermit evidently wanted to make sure. It plunged after him like a hawk swooping to catch a pigeon in its claws.
But it didn’t use its talons to pierce him, nor its grip, painfully tight though it was, to crush him. Instead, leveling out of its descent, it recited another spell that gave him back the use of his body. Not that he could use it for much at the moment.
“What did you do to me?” the Hermit snarled, its voice a rasping, discordant rumble like a scrape of blades and distant thunder muddled together. It spoke Elvish with an accent Taegan had never heard before. “I feel it squirming in my mind!”
“Ah,” Taegan wheezed. With the enormous digits clamping his torso, he could scarcely draw sufficient breath to speak. “That would be the Rage. Phourkyn One-Eye taught
me a spell to crumble any wyrm’s defenses instantaneously. I must compliment you. Most dragons, experiencing frenzy all of a sudden, go berserk. They certainly aren’t capable of conducting a civilized conversation.”
“I’m no dragon. My kind and theirs diverged eons ago.” “Apparently,” said Taegan, “not quite far enough for comfort’s sake.”
“Lift the curse!”
“A wise request, for, left to fester, it will obliterate your reason. I haven’t actually mastered the charm for dampening it, but fortunately, Lady Karasendrieththe song dragon has. Once you agree to conduct yourself in a more hospitable manner, I’m sure she’ll be delighted to oblige you.”
The Hermit glared. “I don’t succumb to threats. I’ll slaughter you all, raise you as my lifeless slaves, and command the song dragon to cleanse me of this taint.”
“That would be ill-advised. Who can say with
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