Cloak of the Two Winds (30 page)

The three remaining drogs advanced, shuffling awkwardly on the ice. Lonn realized that the slippery surface would favor the Iruks. He yelled this to his mates as they drew their steel. They leapt from the ledge, landed crouched on the bright ice, sprang up and charged. They skidded and slid as they crossed the moat, but their ridged boots and skaters' sense of balance kept them upright. The drogs bent and pointed their blades as the Iruks rushed them.

Karrol and Draven paired off to take one of the drogs, Eben and Brinda another. Lonn darted in against the middle brute, backed by Glyssa who still carried a spear. Away to the right, Lonn glimpsed Beryl descending the steps from the ledge. But then his whole attention was seized by two sword arms sweeping down at him from different angles.

Lonn tried to dance back, but lost his footing and had to scramble back on all fours. He might have died there had not the drog also slipped, thrown off-balance by the ferocity of its attack. Lonn clambered to his feet, knife and sword raised high. The drog righted itself with one sword, swinging the other to keep the Iruk at bay. Lonn deflected the blow with his dagger and jabbed with his sword, just missing the head. He ducked to avoid a swooping backward cut, while Glyssa thrust with her spear to occupy the drog's other arm.

Beryl was walking across the moat, untouched by the fighting around her, protected by the force of her deepshaper's mind. From atop the steps, Amlina watched her, their eyes locked, their wills battling.

When Amlina felt the Cloak once more in her power she lifted both hands and aimed them at Beryl. But Beryl's eyes grew huge in her vision and Beryl's thoughts came like a whispering in her ear.

You cannot use it against me.

"I can." Amlina steadied her arms and willed the power to flow.

You will take it off and hand it to me, Beryl's mind said.

Fiercely, Amlina rejected the idea. But then her sight rippled with sparkling waves, dizzying her. Next thing she knew she had taken off the Cloak, and Beryl was climbing the steps, hands outstretched to receive it.

With a cry of fright and rage, Amlina pivoted and fled back into Kosimo's chamber.

Down on the ice, Draven and Karrol had driven their opponent back to the wall of the moat. But there the tireless sword-arms were able to hold the Iruks off. The mates scored numerous cuts on the monster's legs and long arms, but though their blades were imbued with Amlina's witchery, they seemed to do no harm.

Over by the steps, Eben and Brinda were also holding their own, each guarding the other's flank and dueling one black blade. But neither could get close enough to deliver a blow to the head.

Meantime Lonn's plight was growing desperate. The drog assailed him relentlessly while Glyssa, unsure of herself and poorly armed, hung back. Only when Lonn slipped and the giant loomed above him would Glyssa charge in, poking with her spear and yelling to distract the brute until Lonn could regain his feet. Once she tried throwing her spear at the drog's head. But a swift blade knocked it aside, and Glyssa had to rush to the far wall to pick up another spear.

Lonn's harness and sleeve were sliced by the long, terrible swords. He fought back, wheeling and stabbing. But his arms were growing heavy, his breath coming in gasps.

From the corner of his eye, Lonn saw one of the monster's being slain. Draven had kept the drog backed to the wall while Karrol grabbed up a spear from the ice and flung it into the creature's puckered face.

The glimpse held Lonn's attention an instant too long. He tried to dodge a down-rushing sword, slipped instead, and fell on his side. Glyssa started forward, shouting and thrusting her spear as Lonn regained his feet. But this time the drog turned both swords on Glyssa and smashed her spear shaft in two when she tried to parry.

Weaponless, Glyssa flinched as the sword arm rose over her.

Lonn sprang, heedless of his own safety, and hooked the drog's elbow with his arm. Lifted in the air by the brute's enormous strength, Lonn twisted and lunged with his sword—just as the giant's free blade stabbed toward him.

The two sword-points struck simultaneously—Lonn's piercing the pulpy head, the drog’s penetrating Lonn’s harness and sliding between his ribs.

Lonn groaned as the drog's death spasm jerked the point deeper into his flesh. Then the giant's arm dropped, spilling Lonn free on the ice. Lonn slithered out of the way as the towering drog collapsed, gushing foul ichor. Lonn got to his knees, clutching his side to staunch the trickle of blood. Glyssa rushed to his side.

"It's not bad," he told her, though the wound hurt as if the point were still twisting inside.

In front of them the drog continued to writhe, swords scratching the ice in feeble attempts to rise. But then Karrol ended its movements for good, driving her sword down through the bleeding head.

Draven had gone to help Eben and Brinda finish the last of the creatures. While they kept the two swords busy, Draven circled behind the giant. He brought his sword back over his head and swung it down in a murderous two-handed blow, splitting the head down the center. The drog's arms shot upward in agony. The monster spun, staggering several paces into the wall of the moat. Its legs continued to move mechanically as its body slouched against the rock, until finally growing still.

For a few heartbeats, the Iruks looked at each other, gasping air as the fever of battle drained. The four sword-arms lay slain, and except for Lonn's wound and a gash on Brinda's arm, no Iruk blood had been drawn.

Then Draven cast a glance at the far side of the moat, and started across at a sliding run. His mates hurried after, Karrol and Eben pausing to pick up two spears that lay near at hand.

Holding the Cloak, Amlina had stopped several paces inside the chamber and whirled to face Beryl again. When the Archimage appeared at the door, Amlina's jeweled dagger was flying at her face.

"Away!" With a finger Beryl swept the knife aside. Poking from her collar, the treeman's head dropped hastily from view as Beryl's own dagger leapt from her coat.

With mind-force Amlina brought her knife swooping down again at Beryl's head. But Beryl alertly waved it off and sent it careering to the far end of the chamber. Amlina shifted the focus of her will to defense and parried as Beryl's bone-hilted knife arrowed toward her.

"Your strength of will surprises me," Beryl remarked, stepping closer. "Indeed, you've surprised me more than once of late."

Straining to ignore the distraction of Beryl's voice, Amlina called her knife back to her.

"But now the game is over," Beryl said, her own dagger hanging suddenly close to Amlina's nose.

Amlina had to throw all her will into pushing the point away. As she did so, Beryl seized Amlina's knife, pulling it close with her mind and then plucking it from the air with her hand.

"Now the game is over," Beryl repeated, one knife in her fist, the other floating as she willed.

Amlina squeezed the Cloak tight against her and cast out her will in a frenzy. From all over the chamber bottles, vials, and instruments leapt from shelves and tables and flew at Beryl. An aura of force sprang out to protect the Archimage. But a glass beaker found its way past Beryl's shield and smashed her forehead, dazing her, drawing a trickle of blood.

Seizing the chance, Amlina darted forward, calling Beryl's dagger to her hand. But Beryl recovered her senses in time and swept the knife away, just before Amlina could touch it.

The two witches stood close now and Beryl got hold of Amlina's coat sleeve and flung her to the floor. Amlina tried to roll free but Beryl dropped on top of her. The knife in Beryl's hand moved toward Amlina's throat. Amlina gripped Beryl's wrist with both her hands to hold the point away.

"Now, little Larthang," Beryl purred. "You have often seen me drink the blood of sacrifices. You know how I savor the first drops, when the rush of terror is strong."

Amlina's arms quivered with strain as the dagger descended.

"I've waited a long time," Beryl said, "to taste your blood and your terror."

Amlina strove to clear her mind of panic so she could augment her failing strength with shaping force. But Beryl's green eyes seared her will, and the panic grew. The dagger's point touched her neck below the jaw, stinging as it pierced the skin. From within Beryl's collar the treeman watched, slavering.

Then Beryl hissed and jumped up, whirling.

Draven and his mates were pouring through the chamber door.

"Stay back!" Beryl screamed.

As the Iruks staggered, fighting her command, Beryl snatched up the Cloak and retreated. Amlina lunged to grasp at her ankle, but Beryl sprang free.

The Iruks were coming on again as the Archimage stopped, a few paces past where Amlina lay. With the Cloak tossed over her shoulder, Beryl loosed one of the necklaces she still wore—two lengths of twisted gold wire joined to a large purple gem.

"Throw your weapons," Amlina shouted, searching frantically for Beryl's discarded dagger.

But before a spear could be launched Beryl touched the two ends of gold wire in front of her forehead. The purple stone flashed, emitting a violet aura that instantly enveloped Beryl and the Cloak.

Two hastily cast spears struck the sheath of light and disappeared.

"Keep back." On her knees, Amlina thrust out her arms to restrain the charging Iruks.

"No, come and take me," Beryl taunted from inside the luminous sheath. "Charge into the wall of severing light and annihilate yourselves. Why do you hesitate? Your caution only postpones your demise. For I will hunt you down, each of you that raised weapons against me. And I'll not give you so quick and merciful a death as this, I promise you. Remember that and ponder it often. All of Glimnodd cannot hide you from me."

While she spoke the light intensified, becoming so brilliant that Amlina and the Iruks had to shade their eyes. Then with a last silent flare the aura vanished, leaving only a dull gleam on the floor and the scent of something burned by fire.

"Where did she go?" Draven asked.

"Through a Gate of Spaceless Passage," Amlina answered wearily. "It will take her wherever she wills. Possibly back to her fleet at sea—or even to Tallyba itself. She would choose a place safe from pursuit. Such travel is hard, and she will need days to recover."

"Then we've lost the Cloak," Lonn muttered.

"Yes." Amlina touched the small puncture on her neck and looked dully at the smear of blood that reddened her fingertips.

"You are hurt." Draven peered at the wound with concern. "But not badly."

Amlina looked at Brinda's cut and the blood that stained Lonn's harness. "You'll both need tending and soon," she said. "Let us leave this place."

"Yes," Draven said. "But on the way we will stop in those treasure rooms."

"Very well," Amlina said. "But hurry. I will meet you there. I will choose my spoils from among the serd's books and devices."

The Iruks left the chamber, picked up their discarded capes and quivers, and tramped down the steps to the icebound moat. The destroyed drogs were decaying quickly, black forms shriveling, ichor bubbling as it evaporated in noisome trails of steam. The Iruks collected the few unbroken spears, then proceeded to the treasure rooms.

Lonn all but forgot the pain in his ribs as he and his mates rummaged through the temple's abundant wealth. The Iruks crowded their fingers with rings and their arms with gold bracelets. They stuffed their harnesses with jewels, found sacks and filled them with coins.

The mates were bundling together all they could carry when Amlina arrived with a large iron-bound book in her arms. The witch set the book down long enough to fill her purse and pockets with gold, saying she would make Captain Troneck and his crew a generous return for all their trouble.

"A pity we can't fill the holds of the
Plover
with this loot," Draven laughed. "Not that it matters. We'll carry away enough to last all our lives."

"Your joy should be tempered by this," Amlina said. "Beryl was not threatening idly. She does mean to hunt you now as well as me. Her pride will not permit any enemies to go unpunished."

"We're not afraid of her," Lonn answered. "She's the one who fled. "

"Her head was injured," Amlina replied. "She was outnumbered, and her shaping powers had been strained by much use. Next time she will not retreat."

"Neither will we," Lonn boasted. "We are Iruks, fearless. And now our klarn is whole again."

His sentiments were echoed with enthusiasm by his mates. Even Glyssa smiled.

The Iruks hoisted the treasure sacks on their shoulders and followed the witch from the serd’s lair. As they stepped over the broken fragments of the stone door, Amlina halted, peering up the tunnel in the direction they had come.

"I have a strong impression," she said, "that the Prince-Ruler Hagen is at this moment above us, searching through the temple with several score of his troops."

"I would not be surprised," Eben said. "We might easily have been spotted coming into the temple."

"Or Beryl might," Amlina agreed. "My bundled trinkets are still in the audience hall. I do not like to leave them, but I don't think it's worth the risk of going back. You did say, Glyssa, that this tunnel leads down to another exit, on the water?"