He rolled over and over, clutching the neck of a furry beast. He managed to hold it away from his throat and somehow halt their tumbling with himself on top. Letting go with his left hand, he jammed a forearm against the creature’s jaw. It writhed, trying to throw Robien off. He planted a knee in its ribs.
Racing to cover the distance, Taranath recognized Robien’s attacker. “It’s the beast the priestess banished!” he exclaimed.
“Shobbat?” Kerian was furious. She’d wanted to kill the creature when it appeared in their camp. By flinging the monster away, Sa’ida had only delayed the inevitable and put Robien’s life at risk in the bargain.
“Kill him!” she shouted.
Despite the wind, Shobbat had no trouble hearing the Lioness’s command. He had jumped Robien to keep the bounty hunter from leading the
Robien saw three suns, as the kender say. As his head snapped backward from the blow, he flung up an arm to ward off further strikes. Shobbat’s jaws opened, ready to clamp down on the unprotected arm.
His teeth found only air. Taranath had arrived, and his sword sliced through Shobbat’s short, bushy tail. Shobbat shrieked in pain. Kerian bore in, thrusting her weapon’s point at his chest. Her blade found fur and slid across, but leaving a long, deep cut. While they kept Shobbat busy, Hytanthas dragged Robien out of the way. Kerian could hear the young captain frantically asking Robien where he was hurt, but she and Taranath kept their attention on the crouching beast. Blood dripped from Shobbat’s chest.
“You will regret this!” he rasped.
“My only regret is not killing you sooner!”
Kerian lunged, and Taranath followed half a heartbeat later. Despite his wounds, Shobbat astonished them all. Coiling himself almost double, he sprang, not directly at his attackers, but completely over their heads. They whirled but he was faster. In two bounds he had vanished into the low brush and scrub pines.
Hytanthas was tending Robien’s wound. Taranath’s timely intervention had saved the Kagonesti’s arm, but in his first pounce, Shobbat had scored two bloody lines on Robien’s right shoulder with his fangs. Although not crippling, the injury was painful. Robien watched in stoic silence as Hytanthas bandaged the wound with a linen strip.
There was no time to rest. Robien drank from the water bottle Hytanthas pressed on him then took the lead again. In obvious pain, his face damp with sweat, he set an even more rapid pace than before his injury. The wind was destroying the trail. The fire on the mountainside had died before the gale began. Without the smoke column to guide them, they had to hurry before all signs were lost.
Eventually they spotted the tableland inset in the mountainside a few miles above. It was obviously wrought by hand and appeared a likely place for a mighty conjuration. The fast-fading traces of the trail headed directly for it.
Robien prided himself on his detachment. He could track the worst criminal or bring to heel the most pathetic debtor with equal efficiency and aplomb. Shobbat’s attack was the latest in a line of confidence-shaking assaults and it had infuriated him. His quarry was Faeterus, but if an opportunity to slay Shobbat presented itself, Robien would seize it without hesitation.
Favaronas paused to catch his breath. He was nearly to his goal. The edge of the plateau was only a few feet away. In a short time, he would be free of his torment, and Faeterus would be denied whatever ugly fate he had in mind for his captive. Part of him wished he could see the sorcerer’s design finished, if only to witness the unmasking of the awesome, ancient power. But Faeterus wanted him alive to test the efficacy of the spell. At least Favaronas would have the satisfaction of denying him that.
The wind was blasting relentlessly down the mountain, across the valley, and up into the writhing, black cloud. The cloud was massive, over a mile in diameter. Faeterus’s bellowing chant ended abruptly. Favaronas risked a glance over one shoulder.
Palms pressed together, Faeterus thrust his hands skyward. In Old Elvish he roared,
A silent concussion shook air and ground. The wind went from full gale to dead calm in an instant, as though a great door had slammed shut, and the sky darkened rapidly. The black cloud flattened out, spreading like dark oil to blot out the sky. Noon was only an hour away, yet twilight was consuming Inath-Wakenti. The air rapidly cooled.
