sword held loose and easy. “Sing, duur’kala,” he said. “Something sad. Something for mourning.”
A knife glittered in his hand, held by the blade and ready for throwing.
Ekhaas didn’t hesitate. A song would have brought an attack and Daavn had the advantage of higher ground. She threw herself at him, charging up the slope and sweeping her sword ahead of her, not high but low. At his feet.
The move startled Daavn. He drew back the throwing knife and released it with a snap of his wrist, but the cast was weak and wide. The slim blade rang on rock. Ekhaas’s attack forced him to hop and dance backward. By the time he had the opportunity to strike back, Ekhaas had secure footing even if she was still below him. Daavn’s sword swung down at her; she managed to raise her blade and block it. Metal skittered on metal, and for a moment the blades locked. Daavn’s lips drew back from his teeth.
“You’re not going to stop Tariic,” he said. “He’ll have the true rod.”
He kicked at her chest. Ekhaas felt the shift in his balance through their braced swords and twisted desperately to the side. The kick missed her and in the heartbeat that it took Daavn to recover his balance, she ran past him and up to the top of the slope.
She could see Ashi now, circling Makka and Pradoor with Aruget at her side. Daavn’s guards and the last of the bugbear workers were closing in. A song might scatter them, but first she would have to deal with Daavn-if she could stay away from the warlord’s sword. “How much has Tariic told you about the rod?” she asked him. “Has he told you that it’s cursed?”
“He’s told us that Haruuc didn’t know how to control its power.” Daavn lunged, whirling his blade. Ekhaas twisted aside and tried to reach under his extended arm, but Daavn was faster and closed his stance quickly. He snapped an elbow up, catching her under the chin and sending her staggering back.
The roar that erupted from Makka gave both of them pause. Ekhaas swung around to catch a glimpse of the bugbear charging past Ashi and Aruget, and leaping down the ridge in the direction of the tomb. Fear clenched a fist in her guts. Their distraction had failed.
“Maabet,” cursed Daavn, then shouted orders. “Move in! All of you, move in!”
Ekhaas slashed her sword at his throat.
He blocked her with the ease of a practiced swordsman and forced her back across the ridge with a series of powerful, hammering blows. He smiled the next time they crossed swords.
“Did you know your friend Midian betrayed Ashi and Geth to save his own life?”
She felt him relax a little in anticipation of her surprise. She turned it against him.
“Yes,” she said and jerked her knee up into his groin.
He wore an armored codpiece that left her knee aching, but the force of the blow was still enough to make his ears droop and his eyes open wide. Ekhaas shoved hard against his chest with her free hand and he reeled back.
Right over the edge of a crevice in the ridge. He didn’t even teeter, but just went over. Ekhaas heard his armor strike rock twice as he fell. She whirled and ran to the aid of Ashi and Aruget.
She’d taken perhaps four paces when a dull drone filled the air. She looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound, but it seemed to come from everywhere. Aruget, Ashi, and the guards and workers who had pinned them down broke off their attacks, looking around in confusion.
The brown body of an insect-a locust-landed on her arm. Its eyes were the same milky white as Pradoor’s. The drone turned into a thrum that reverberated in Ekhaas’s belly. The horses picketed before the tomb whinnied and shifted in fright.
And a vast swarm of the white-eyed locusts rose up from behind the ridge.
They came whirring down like a blizzard, only a few at first, then more and more. Daavn’s bugbears and hobgoblins shouted and fled, dropping tools and weapons. Ekhaas sprinted to Ashi and Aruget. “Makka has gone into the tomb!” she shouted over the thrumming of the locusts’ wings. Daylight was growing dim as the swarm clustered around them.
“I saw him,” said Ashi, “and I saw Pradoor chanting. I think this swarm is-” She broke off with a hiss of pain and plucked a locust away from the thin bloody scratch across her belly. “It bit me!” She hissed again.
So did Aruget. Blood matted Geth’s thick hair. The locusts seemed to be settling on it like leeches. The changeling could have been doing a bizarre dance as he swatted at them. Another locust settled on Ekhaas but this time it brought with it a stinging pain. She slapped it away and it left a smear of red blood behind. Her blood.
Two more locusts landed on the same spot. The thrumming of the swarm rose in pitch. Ekhaas’s fear rose with it. She grabbed for Aruget and Ashi and pulled them close, ignoring the bites of the locusts as they settled on her. “Cover your ears!” she ordered, then drew a breath through barely parted lips and sang a burst of sound directly on top of them.
The song blew back the swarm like a stone thrown into a pond. Ekhaas felt the sound pulse through her body but it did more damage to the locusts than to her. The brown insects dropped in drifts all around them. For a moment, daylight returned and the thrumming vanished.
Only for a moment. Pradoor’s shrill voice rose. “Devourer, aid your servant! Let your hunger be manifest!” The thrumming returned, and the sun dimmed as a new swarm settled over them.
“Ekhaas, we have to get into the tomb!” said Ashi. “Geth and Chetiin need us!”
“We’d never make it,” Aruget said, and spat as a locust crawled into his mouth.
Ekhaas held tight to both human and changeling and drew them down into a tight huddle. Forcing her voice deep into her throat, she started to hum with the same pitch and resonance as the swarm. It was hardly a song, but when she drew up magic from deep inside herself, it took on strength and substance.
The thrum of the swarm became a roar, but no locusts landed on them. Ekhaas felt Ashi raise her head and look around. “Rond betch,” she said in amazement.
Aruget-shifter’s features melting back into a hobgoblin’s-raised his head, too, but he looked at Ekhaas. She could guess what he was thinking because she was thinking it, too.
Which would last longer: her hum or Pradoor’s chant?
Geth tumbled across the floor of the tomb, bashing aside treasures and scattering coins. He still felt Midian’s second crossbow bolt pass uncomfortably close to him. He landed beside a broad polished shield bearing the crest of House Deneith and snatched it up, ducking behind it like a turtle retreating into its shell. The high opening of the stairs leading up out of the tomb was a half dozen paces away. Tenquis stood there, still directing the dim light of his moonstone up at Midian.
“Drop the stone, Tenquis!” Geth shouted. “You’re a target!”
The tiefling flinched and flicked the stone away. Shadows lurched crazily. Geth seized the moment and ran for the stairs, still covering himself with the shield. In spite of the shifting shadows and the shield, another bolt from Midian’s hand crossbow glanced off the stone right beside his moving feet. Geth yelped and skipped, diving the last of the way into the cover of the passage.
“You’re only making this a challenge, Geth.” Midian’s voice drifted down from his perch above. “I’m a very good marksman.”
Geth, panting for breath, looked up at Tenquis. “Where did he get a crossbow?”
“If I was him,” said Chetiin from nearby, “I would have left a cache of weapons and supplies behind.”
Both Geth and Tenquis flinched this time. Geth twisted around and spotted Chetiin squatting against one wall of the stairs. “I thought you were still somewhere out there in the cave!” he said, almost choking.
“I thought we should talk without having to shout our business.” The shaarat’khesh elder stood up and added quietly. “I’ll deal with Midian.”
“You’re not going to get close to him,” Tenquis said. “He’s a good eight paces up and he’ll have clear aim on you.”
“You’re whispering,” Midian called out to them. “Speak up.”
Chetiin glanced up at Tenquis. “I’ll deal with him,” he said again, then looked to Geth. “When you have your opening, take it. Get the rod and run. Don’t wait for me. Just take it and run as far from Rhukaan Draal as you can. I’ll find you.” He put a fist to his chest. “Paatcha, Geth. Swift travel.”
Geth repeated the gesture. “Paatcha, Chetiin.”
The old goblin moved closer to the mouth of the passage and raised his strained, scarred voice. “Midian!”
