Lady of Poison (18 page)

Read Lady of Poison Online

Authors: Bruce R. Cordell

BOOK: Lady of Poison
6.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Without warning, the creature exploded.

Ooze and odiferous mud splattered Marrec and Ususi. All that remained of the muck creature was a crater-like circle, its circumference formed by its remains.

“Well… that was convenient,” opined Marrec after a few seconds of examination.

Ususi studied muck crater, concentration wrinkling her brow. She said, “That was no accident.”

“You think it blew itself up on purpose?”

She responded, “The master calling home his familiar, perhaps.”

“Messy way to say, ‘here, boy,’ don’t you think?”

Ususi sighed, “Do you make a joke of everything?”

“Only when I’ve just escaped death by a nail’s breadth,” confided Marrec, grinning.

“You know, I have noticed you don’t always joke.

“Hmm?” Marrec raised an eyebrow.

“Most of the time you speak simply, even like a commoner, but every so often your speech lapses into a series of formal proclamations, like ‘Flee or perish!’ or ‘Now you shall meet the cruel end of Justlance!’ It is … interesting,” finished the mage.

Marrec opened his mouth to respond, but Ususi spoke up again, saying, “It is a habit I’ve been studying. It is my theory that you slip into that manner of talking when you think people around need the encouragement of a self-assured voice. Or you yourself need it. Anyway, it is a theory.”

Marrec’s felt his face warm. Ususi looked at him with one raised eyebrow, as if she expected him to cork off with a sample proclamation.

A gurgle and sucking sound drew their gazes back to the circular crater of ooze. The ooze was drawing back together.

Marrec said, “He’s returning, be ready.” He was almost

grateful the creature was back—it relieved him of having to comment on Ususi’s theory. He readied his spear.

Yet another blanket of stench erupted from the coagulating ooze. As it slumped back together, it seemed to grow in quantity. Soon there was no question that the ooze was somehow replenishing itself, growing larger and taller than the muck man had been. A half-formed arm reached forward, palm out. Marrec’s stomach twisted as he recognized a sort of dark mirror of himself summoning Justlance. In the half-formed creature’s hand a slender, weapon-shaped object blackened the air. Both he and Ususi recognized the weapon immediately. It was twin to the halberd wielded by fallen Gameliel.

Ususi whispered, “A blightlord comes. I am too tired to fight.”

“You were right about the ooze creature, almost. It called its master, not the other way around. It must be Anammelech.” He grabbed Ususi’s hand and they dashed toward the empty mouth of the Arches of Xenosi. “Let’s try to catch up with Gunggari and Elowen.”

Marrec glanced back as they passed from the sun into the tree-lined corridor framed by the arches. The blightlord was almost fully formed and already sliding forward on a layer of slime like an upright, armored slug. Then they were fully committed to the cool green hall under the trees, running over light-stippled earth.

He was surprised to discover that he couldn’t see very far at all along the length of the passage. Some sort of viridian mist greened out vision beyond more than forty or fifty feet, if that. As it happened, that was about the distance between each successive stone arch. Though the lane was strangely clear of growth, the forest pressed in on all sides, and vines grew thickly on the sides of each arch, and some few hung down beneath each stone span.

Like light, sound was also muffled in the lane, though he thought he could hear the sound of conflict far ahead If Gunggari’s tracking skill could be trusted, Ash and her

kidnapper were also ahead. He tightened his grip slightly on Ususi’s hand and tried to speed up.

Ususi’s injuries came to the fore. A stitch in her breath soon became a gasp, and she stumbled. She said something in a language Marrec couldn’t understand. He was pretty sure it was a language he’d never heard before.

“What?” he asked, slowing a trifle.

“I can not keep this pace. My foresight has failed me. I know just the spell to speed me along, but I do not have it prepared.”

Marrec frowned but decided not to remind Ususi of his current diminished state of being unable to prepare any spells at all. It would only come across sounding petty.

Instead he said, “They are just a bit ahead of us. Just a little bit farther. I’d rather Anammelech catch up with us only after we’ve caught up with Gunny and Elowen.”

She nodded, conserving her breath.

They penetrated further into the Rawlinswood. The light dimmed slightly, but otherwise the trees, undergrowth, and other foliage to either side of the corridor remained fairly uniform. By that time their forward progress had slowed to a fast walk. The sounds of fighting ahead died away, perhaps because of intervening distance.

To keep his mind off their slow pace, he asked, “Why’d you call those creatures twigblights?”

Ususi shrugged. She said, “It seemed appropriate.”

The unicorn warrior smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. “Indeed.”

Recognition of the true nature of the ‘dead tree’ standing just outside the arch-defined corridor came a heartbeat too late, as it stumble-rushed forward on its tree trunk legs, blocking their path.

Ususi cursed, again in a language unknown to Marrec. No, she wasn’t cursing; she was uttering syllables of a spell. Marrec released her hand and reached for his spear. Just in time; her hands began to spark with the imminent release of power.

The twigblight rushed them. It was so big that it had to duck to fit beneath the stone arch under which they’d stopped. He rolled left, Ususi rolled right; the creature charged past. One of its twig-claw hands scraped along Marrec’s armor but failed to find an opening.

Marrec drove his spear into the creature’s back, trying to find the ‘sweet spot’ he’d discovered on the other creature outside the forest. It deflected his thrust with a weighty claw of gnarled wood.

Ususi’s spell generated an arc of electric blue light that crackled along the creature’s body, sending it into flailing convulsions. The smell of burning wood and ozone mixed, and a trail of smoke rose to mingle with the greenish mist.

Partially stunned, the twigblight shuddered and stepped back. Marrec was ready. That time the creature wasn’t able to bring up its wooden limbs quickly enough to defend its heart. The tip of his spear punched through the woody shell and found something soft, yielding, and odiferous. It shuddered again, then ceased all movement. Robbed of animation, the creature resembled nothing so much as an old, rotting tree with vividly posed branches.

“Impressive,” whispered a voice from behind.

Marrec groaned with sick anticipation as he whirled to face the speaker. A dark silhouette, hazy and indistinct in the green distance, gained clarity and sharpness of outline as it glided smoothly forward along the ground. Anammelech had caught them.

The blightlord’s armor was either covered with or formed of hardened ooze. The plates were mobile, softening, shifting, and flowing over and across each other in a mesmerizing crawl. Anammelech’s head was bare, and the crawling plates of his armor never rose above his neckline. His face was filthy and his eye sockets twin voids but for a wet sparkle far back in each empty orbit. In one hand he gripped a halberd-shaped hole in the air, just like Gameliel’s.

The blightlord continued to slide forward without flexing his legs to stride like a mortal. Marrec saw a glistening slime trail in Anammelech’s wake. He was reminded of a snail’s trail.

The blightlord slid to within just a few feet of Marrec and Ususi. They both stood ready, Marrec with Justlance, Ususi poised to fling a spell.

“I guess I should thank you,” continued Anammelech in a conversational tone, “You fit the description of those who slew my compatriot. I’ve always fancied Gloomgate, but the weapon was given him by the Talontyr. With Gameliel’s death, Gloomgate passed to me.” He gestured with the halberd-shaped profanity.

Despite the part of his mind warning him against striking up a conversation with the blightlord, Marrec blurted, “Our description?”

“When it appeared to me, it told me of Gameliel’s slaying, and about his slayers. It told me of all your plans, so you see, I knew you were going to Yeshelmaar. I even guessed you might come here, chasing after that poor little girl.”

Marrec glared at the dark weapon. Intelligent weapons were rare, and those aligned with evil even more so. Truly Gloomgate was an abomination.

“Imagine my surprise when our spy Fallon gifted me with this…” said the blightlord as he drew forth the dully glinting Keystone.

Marrec’s eyes widened. Ususi gasped.

“Where’s Ash?” rasped the unicorn warrior. If Anammelech had the Keystone, he must also have the girl.

“I sent Ash’ along ahead with Fallon. The Talontyr wants to see her.” Anammelech chuckled, though the sound bubbled up as if from lungs choked with fluid.

Marrec brought his own spear up, tip dancing a few feet away from unconcerned features of Anammelech. “We destroyed Gameliel and doubt not that you’ll fall just as easily. So leave us, and retreat whence you’ve come. If

we find that you’re following us, we’ll be forced to destroy you. You’ve been warned.”

Anammelech’s chuckle grew into a full-throated laugh of incredulity.

“First,” added Ususi, “Hand over the Keystone. It is mine.” She held out her left hand palm up.

“You want this?” asked the blightlord, a playful note in his voice. He dangled the Keystone higher, causing it to swing back in forth before Ususi. “I’m afraid I’ve grown quite fond of it in just the short time it’s been with me. Quite an interesting little area this trinket unlocks. Once I’ve dealt with you, I intend to explore it at my leisure.”

Marrec came to the end of his patience. “You’ve had your warning.”

Anammelech sighed. He said, “Don’t you think Gloomgate has informed me of your abilities? Even now, it whispers to me of your failing spells, your needy spear with its inability to be parted from you, and your sad devotion to a diminished goddess. And you,” he turned his empty sockets on Ususi, “are completely reliant upon spells, especially fire. Good thing fire has no power over me.”

Like the head of a striking adder, the axe head of Gloomgate lashed out, slashing Ususi down the side. Black mist smoked off the halberd, tracing its deadly path through the air. The blade left a horribly long, deep gash. Blood flowed. Ususi screamed as she collapsed backward then fell prone, unmoving.

“Now, you’re dead,” concluded Anammelech.

Marrec berated himself for speaking to the blightlord. Anammelech had lulled them with his calm approach and insipid conversation. Without speaking, he drove Justlance hard into the blightlord’s body, attempting to thrust through the migrating plate armor, but the enchanted armor resisted.

The moving plates caught his thrust and held his

spear fast between two segments. He grunted, attempting to push the spear through.

Anammelech was back to chuckling.

Marrec mentally grasped the remaining charge of strength left in the gauntlets given to him by the Nentyarch. In one gulp, all the remaining magic stored in the gloves was drained and instead danced in his sinews. With a truly superhuman effort granted by that strength, he broke through the resistance of the sliding armor as if it were tissue. His spear penetrated all the way through Anammelech’s body. His gauntleted hands still held to the shaft but were pressed up against Anammelech, so far had the blightlord been run through,

“I should have told you,” confided Anammelech, his face inches from Marrec, his breath as rotten as spoiled flesh, “Armor is just a shape I like to take on occasion. Really, I’m much more amorphous.” The blightlord’s ‘armor’ began to writhe where it touched Marrec’s spear. A horribly sentient surge of liquid ooze ran up the spear shaft, up Marrec’s arms, and across his face.

Marrec convulsed, attempting to throw himself back. The flowing ooze had too strong a grip on him. The blightlord’s entire body opened up like a wet glove and attempted to engulf him.

Realization flashed for Marrec. He had seconds to live, and his mind was giving him the grace of slowed perception to allow him to come to terms with his fate. Nothing he did would matter; all his options pointed to his ending. He could accept that, he decided, but not without a statement.

The flowing grip of Anammelech strengthened as he was pulled more firmly into an all-encompassing grasp of living ooze.

Marrec would die, yes, but he would expire while being true to his long-hidden nature. Maybe he could do some good and redeem both himself and the sin that

still stained his heart since he had slain Thanial so long ago…

The blightlord’s voice purred, close and intimate, “I told you I knew all about you.”

The unicorn warrior whispered back, “Did your damned weapon tell you about my eyes?”

“Why would it?”

Marrec’s terrible gaze was drawn out like a sword from its scabbard.

“What’s this? What… That’s not…” Anammelech tried to heave his flowing body away from the searing gaze of the cleric. Marrec’s eyes had become a strobe of light and dark illumination, blasting into the flesh of the blightlord with a transformative grasp that Anammelech was incapable of resisting.

Laughter was gone then. As the stone tide overtook the soft-bodied blightlord, one last whimper escaped the Talontyr’s servant before his voice, too, was locked in a tomb of stone.

|\flarrec can handle himself,” grunted Gunggari, not for the first time.

Elowen gritted her teeth as she slashed the length of Dymondheart through the form of yet another twigblight that had sidled too close. The creature explosively shattered with the contact. The living wood of her intelligent blade was anathema to the obscene creatures. Dymondheart’s mere touch not only robbed them of animation but violently dissembled the creatures into so much kindling. The larger ones were smart enough to stay back, but every few seconds a smaller twigblight forgot the fate of all its earlier siblings and rushed forward. Despite the dozens she had shattered, a whole herd of the constructions followed behind them down the arch-defined lane, keeping pace. Maybe that was what they were supposed

Other books

Kill Crazy by William W. Johnstone
Germinal by Emile Zola
Mrs. Million by Pete Hautman
Wave Good-Bye by Lila Dare
That Said by Jane Shore
Hourglass by McEntire, Myra
Young Bess by Margaret Irwin
A Whisper of Danger by Catherine Palmer
Virginia Henley by Ravished
Architects of Emortality by Brian Stableford