things, and warning bells were sounding in his mind. 'Come out here, Willow. Out into the light. We can't stay in this cave.'
The elf suddenly wrapped her arms around herself. 'I can't; you have to come in.'
Almost alive in his fist, Harvester's wide tip bobbed in the air like a hound sensing danger. 'Why can't you come out? Are you enspelled? Under a geas?'
Still hugging herself, the half-elf looked at the ground as though ashamed. 'Yes, my love. They said I couldn't leave until rescued by a worthy man.'
'Oh?' That sounded like a vague sort of curse. Slowly, Sunbright hunkered on his heels and scooched to one side to let more dim light fall on Greenwillow. Squatting helped him resist the pull, too. What exactly the pull was he couldn't say: lust, the scent of a woman, a lonely aching in his heart, the need for another's touch. His heart warred with his head to go on, go on.
But his head had powerful arguments that kept him rooted. Now that he had a moment to think, Greenwillow's state of undress disturbed him. He always pictured her dressed as she had been when he first met her, in a long green shirt and boiled black armor. In the court of the lich king, she'd worn a shimmery mackerel- scale gown, and later he'd seen her naked for a brief moment while she donned her traveling clothes and armor again.
So if she wore only a filmy sheath, whence had it come?
And why wouldn't she come closer to the light?
'Darling.' The word rang foreign on his tongue, but then he hadn't used it much. 'Tell me how I might free you.'
'Oh, I'm so cold!' Hugging herself, she shivered, and Sunbright saw real gooseflesh. 'Won't you just hold me while we talk?'
Sunbright shook his head, but found his thoughts growing increasingly murky. The smell of the mine seemed normal enough: cool earth, stale water somewhere, a tang of bat guano. Why then was he muzzy-headed? He'd heard some mines gave off poison air that was invisible and felled a man unawares. Perhaps that was the problem. He couldn't even see Greenwillow clearly anymore. But if he were to rush forward and just grab her and run, then outside they could…
That's what was wrong.
Blinking, he peered at her, really sized her up for the first time. She stood erect, with her arms seductively wrapped around breasts and loins. A small smile showed under glowing green eyes. Sunbright found his own loins aching to join her, wanted to hold her tight and never let go.
Except… How could she stand upright when the cave was only dwarf-high? Greenwillow was nearly as tall as he was, but he couldn't straighten to more than a crouch. Either the cave opened up farther down, or this was some kind of illusion.
If it was an illusion, then it had a purpose.
A trap.
And if a trap, his first step backward would spring it.
Still, he hesitated, with his sword held out before him. He couldn't be sure this was a trap, or that this was or wasn't Greenwillow. The one truism he'd learned in his travels was that nothing was certain.
'Greenwillow.' He talked quietly, thinking madly. 'How did you get out of the Nine Hells?'
'I walked, darling.' Her voice was assured, calming. 'The caverns of hell are convoluted, true, but they have exits. You've seen them.'
Had he? the barbarian wondered. For months now, he'd tracked rumors of openings into the Nine Hells, seeking a way in for himself or a passage out for Greenwillow. His heart thumped at the thought he'd finally found her. But she acted so queerly.
Breath tight in his lungs, stomach clenched hard, he asked, 'The fire?'
'I fell through. The chasm opened below, and though the flames spanned it, they were not deep. I passed through them, incurring only minor burns, and landed in a deep lake in another cavern. You know how the corridors twist. But I was lost and alone, and called your name for hours. You didn't come.' Her voice turned pitiful, and tears spilled down her cheeks.
Now Sunbright's fingers clenched so hard on the tilted beam they dug splinters. It was possible that she'd fallen into yet another corner of hell. Anything was possible in that mad maelstrom. Yet he stayed put.
It might truly be Greenwillow, under some mind-clouding spell. How else could she know she'd fallen into fire? Yet…
'Take my hand.' The warrior would compromise. He extended his left hand, Harvester clenched in his right. 'Meet me halfway, and we'll leave together.'
'I told you, I'm under a spell! If you won't rescue me, it means you don't love me.'
Clinging to the beam like a drowning man, Sunbright extended his left hand until his shoulder creaked. 'I do… love you. I think I always did. But we have to work together. Help me help you. You were a warrior!' Strangely he found himself speaking of her as part of the past.
'No! You're cruel and hateful. I'm going!' She spun around, showing a straight back and long legs.
'Don't go!' Sunbright stood up so fast he banged his topknot on rotted boards. Dirt speckled his shoulders. Releasing the beam, he took a step forward. How queerly she was acting, enspelled or not. 'Come…'
Greenwillow whirled in place, the sheath clinging to her small breasts and flat belly. 'You do love me!'
But her sudden turn had startled the befuddled barbarian, and he stepped back, raising his sword.
And sprang the trap.
With a hissing snarl like that of a giant snake, Greenwillow was replaced by her opposite. Not pale skin, but skin so black it glistened violet. Not soft hair, but scruffy patches that stood up all around her head. Not yearning, outstretched hands, but hooked claws as black as chert. The face was all beaky nose and glaring round eyes, as red as embers in a dying fire.
The night hag snarled some curse or command that Sunbright couldn't understand. Then she pointed her palms at him, as if by doing so she could shove him backward.
And something did. The barbarian grunted as a punch like an invisible sling ball slammed his breast. His bearskin vest and tough muscles absorbed the blow, preventing his ribs from breaking, but he'd be bruised to the bone. And he flinched at the thought of being struck invisibly in the face.
Mind racing, he weighed the odds of a charge versus a retreat. It was no contest; to stay and fight a night hag was pointless. He'd run.
Harvester aimed straight at the creature, the warrior felt behind him as he hunkered to clamber under the tilted beam. It wasn't more than fifty feet to daylight, and he guessed the hag couldn't follow him into the sun. At the cost of thumping his head again, he moved free of the beam, backing steadily.
The hag came on, hands upraised and hooked. She paused at the beam, screaming and gibbering at him. More curses, but he dismissed them as he scuttled away, watching her warily.
Until he sensed something behind him.
A smashing blow, like that of a giant whip, slapped his leg, shot pain clear to the top of his head. At the same time, claws like red-hot nails sank into his neck. Strong arms leaned on the claws to shove him flat.
The whip came again, low, raking his knee. Sunbright squirmed to get under the claws without kneeling or being squashed on his belly, helpless. He couldn't swing Harvester behind him, nor free Dorlas's warhammer from his belt without dropping his sword, so he fought otherwise.
Sidestepping, he rammed his right elbow backward with all his strength. Something grunted and let go of his neck.
Slinging Harvester before him, Sunbright whirled and struck hard at whatever had attacked.
It was a black silhouette against distant daylight, but he recognized the pointed head, barbed spine and tail and knees. A barbed fiend, poised to strike.
But first came such a rush of fear that the barbarian paused for a near-fatal second. He didn't want to die, or suffer, to feel pain or be flayed alive or… Thoughts of death and mutilation rattled in his head, overwhelming him.
Yet part of him stayed cool, for he knew the fear to be induced by this creature. Another part recalled he'd fought these things by the dozens in the Nine Hells. One was not much threat.
Biting on his fear and swallowing it, still hampered by the low ceiling, he braced his off foot far back, took
