concentration.”
“Oh, well. It was the only thing I could think to do.” The bardling couldn’t stop himself from adding in a rush, “Even if I didn’t expect what was going to happen after that.”
“Don’t shed any tears for him.” Naitachal’s voice was suddenly cold. “I touched his mind during our battle, and it was ... foul. The man had deliberately killed all goodness within himself, all hope of joy, deliberately turned himself into a being almost as empty as those poor dead ones he conjured. So it can be,” he added, almost reluctantly, “with many necromancers.”
“Not with you! Anyone who could enjoy being silly with those guards the way you did hasn’t given up on life!”
That earned him a chuckle. “No. I haven’t. Nor will I, Powers willing.” The Dark Elf paused, eyes glinting. “He was strong, though, that stupid, evil man. So strong, with nothing but hatred left within him to drive him, with that hellish staff of his to aid him. Without your help, Kevin, I... don’t think I would have survived.”
He glanced at the bardling. “But the memory of that fire is still shocking you, isn’t it? Ha, yes, you others, it shocks you all.”
“Well, hell, yes!” Lydia exclaimed after a moment “I never thought you could—”
“1 didn’t. Not deliberately.”
“What do you mean? I saw what I saw!”
“You don’t understand.” Naitachal hesitated, then sighed. “I don’t know if I can put this so easily into human terms. Look you, our Power was trapped, his and mine, stalemated, each against each. What happens when a dam breaks?”
Lydia shrugged. “The water bursts free and—Oh.”
“Exactly. When his sorcery all at once gave way, mine —yes—burst free. Even I didn’t expect it to explode quite so fiercely, though. A pity it did,” Naitachal added grimly. “I meant only to stun the man.”
“In the name of all the Powers, why?”
The Dark Elf’s eyes glinted in the gloom. “Why do you think?”
Kevin straightened. “You don’t believe he was working on his own, do you?”
“Hardly. Even a necromancer such as that isn’t chaotic enough to attack at random.”
“Then ... do you think he was in Carlotta’s pay?”
“Something like that.” The Dark Elf stretched wearily. “But we seem to have drawn the lady’s fangs.”
At least for now, Kevin thought, and fought down a shudder. “I bet you’re hungry.”
A hint of returning humor danced in the Dark Elf’s eyes. “Ravenous. As, 1 would think, we all are. It’s been a ... shall we say ... rather strenuous day.”
“It has indeed.” Eliathanis was rummaging in their packs, coming up with a fair amount of smoked meat and some rather squashed bread. He looked ruefully at his catch. “It’s not going to be an elegant meal.”
Lydia rubbed sore muscles in her arms. “I’ve had worse. Worse days, too. Though I have to admit, I can’t remember when. Most of the guys I’ve fought,” she added with a wry grin, “had more flesh to ‘em!”
They rode all the next day, still sore and weary from the battle, nerves tight. But what they rode into was nothing more alarming than a mild, sweet spring day. The land sloped gently up and up towards the mountains, so gradually that the mules climbed it without complaint. A gentle breeze played with hair and clothes, birds darted cheerfully all about them, and there was not the slightest sign of trouble anywhere.
It was so very uneventful a day that by nightfall Kevin was amazed to find himself almost disappointed.
What’s the matter with you, you idiot? Do you want to be attacked?
No, of course he didn’t. What he was feeling, Kevin knew, wasn’t anything so foolish. After all they had gone through so far. this sudden peacefulness simply seemed too ... anticlimactic to be believable.
Now that was silly. Maybe it was true, maybe Carlotta’s fangs had been drawn. Maybe she couldn’t attack them herself for some arcane reason. Maybe she’d had nothing to do with the attack at all! Ah well, Kevin told himself, he would try to enjoy anticlimax.
