worse was close at hand. There had to be a way out.
Ciredor answered, 'I have been retained by, how shall I put it, those 'acquaintances' of your family to accomplish certain tasks. They do not ask for all that much, really, considering what they pay.' He moved closer to her. 'They ask for you, among other things,' he whispered silkily, walking around her unyielding form. 'But you might be able to outbid them. They have, after all, only procured my temporary loyalty.'
The wooden entrance to the room fairly blew off its hinges. Both Tazi and Ciredor lost their footing as the foundation shook and debris flew everywhere. Steorf stormed in, eyes blazing, like some avenging spirit, no longer a mere shadow. Blinking dust from her eyes, Tazi was certain she had never seen him like this. Without a moment's hesitation, Steorf grabbed the lighter Ciredor by his shoulders and slammed him into the nearest wall, treating the mage to the same kind of punishment his three servants had received upstairs. Steorf should have finished the fight then, but he paused to glance at Tazi as she staggered to her feet, concern etched on his face. That hesitation was his undoing.
Ciredor brought up his arms between Steorf's grip. At the barest touch of his hands, fine, green sparks engulfed Steorf and blasted him the length of the room. Steorf's thickly muscled back absorbed the worst of the blow and barely saved him. The force of the explosion, however, stunned him and he slumped to the floor.
Tazi, in the meantime, had used the distraction in an attempt to retrieve her sword. She did not get far. Ciredor whispered a few words, and Tazi found herself slammed to the ground, her sword only a tantalizing few inches from her reach. Pain exploded inside her. She curled into a ball. Her mouth was thick with the taste of blood and fear.
'Dear, dear Thazienne, it doesn't look like you are ever going to grow up,' Ciredor chuckled. 'You've spent far too much time playing in your short life.' As he spoke, he began to circle her crumpled body. 'Just look at you,' he continued, savoring the moment, 'still playing dress up like some silly child. Don't you think it is high time you grew up?' He made another gesture. Tazi noticed the lights in the room dimmed, before a white, hot pain blurred her vision.
Somehow she managed to roll to her knees, her forehead against the cool flagstones. She was certain her brains were burning. A thousand daggers sliced into her scalp. Blood oozed from the pores atop her head as her hair began to grow at an unbelievable rate. She balled her hands into tight fists against the agony. Even through the suffering, she could feel her emerald ring bite into her finger. The words spoken to her years ago by a mage she had met as a child echoed dimly in her fevered mind.
'That's better,' Ciredor cooed. 'Now you look more like the slightly outdated portrait the Soargyls sent to me. That short style never suited your looks. I might even keep you for a while longer.'
Tazi blindly reached for her sword. Ciredor deftly kicked the blade away.
'I can't believe that you have managed to survive this long, little girl,' Ciredor hissed. 'You are so obviously ill equipped for life.'
'You might be surprised by what I'm capable of,' Tazi spat back, forcing herself to stare at him through blood and her once again waist-length hair. Steorf had also risen unsteadily and moved up to stand behind her.
Suppressing a snicker, Ciredor nodded toward Steorf and remarked, 'Even your hired help won't be able to pull you from this fire.'
'He's not my 'hired help,'' Tazi, still in pain, moaned.
'Oh, excuse me,' Ciredor replied with a mocking bow. 'I meant to say your father's hired help.'
Those words sliced through the agony her body was feeling. Forgetting her immediate danger, Tazi demanded, 'Just what do you mean by that?'
Ciredor smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. A cat could not take more pleasure in playing with a mouse. Tazi could sense that to him the game was sweet and the pain emanating from the room was exquisite and addicting.
'Do you mean to tell me, Thazienne Uskevren, that you are completely ignorant of your father's machinations? Have you truly been unaware of the fact that for these past seven years yonder fledging mage,' he paused to gesture at Steorf, 'has been in the service of your father? He only stays by your side because he's been paid to do so!'
Tazi, oblivious to the deadly mage in front of her, staggered to her feet and slowly turned to Steorf. Her emotions rolled down her face like the wax of a tavern candle. A dark rage fixed itself there. For the first time in her life, Tazi was a fearsome sight to behold. Steorf took a step back from her.
'What is he talking about?' she hissed.
'It isn't what it seems,' Steorf was quick to offer.
'Then this serpent is simply dripping venom to poison me against you. Is that what you're telling me?' she growled. There was no forgiveness in her voice.
'I'm your friend,' Steorf said. 'I always have been.'
Tazi didn't give him a finger's length. 'Do you accept money from my father?'
Steorf lowered his head, unable to meet Tazi's burning glare.
'I'm afraid,' she continued through gritted teeth, 'that I'm having trouble hearing you.'
Ciredor leaned against the far wall grinning at the scene unfolding before him. Evidently he intended to let it play out for a few more moments.
'Yes, I do,' whispered Steorf.
Tazi's world crumbled. She squeezed her eyes against the tears that threatened to spill forth. Her rage welled up within her, and she let her right hand curl into a fist. She cocked back her arm to swing at him.
Ciredor could no longer contain himself. He clapped delightedly at the pathetic tableau they presented. Before Tazi could strike her would-be rescuer, the mage whispered a word, and a green light shot from his outstretched hands. The light split into four glowing balls, and each found its way to Steorf's ankles and wrists. He was lifted and bound to the wall as efficiently as if iron manacles had been used. He struggled, but there was nothing in his mystical arsenal that could counter Ciredor's own arcane strength. In the growing gloom, Ciredor turned to face Tazi once more.
Blood ran down her face and throat. Her newly grown hair was matted in several places. Her leathers hung in tatters. She could barely maintain her footing. But a small, grim smile was planted on her lips.
'Enough, child. Time for us to leave,' Ciredor stated. He clasped his hands together, and a sharp, green light burst from them.
'This ring is not something to be taken lightly.' The warnings of Durlan, a moon elf, resounded through Tazi's mind. 'There is a price to this magic,' he had warned her a lifetime ago. 'You will feel a great pain, more severe than anything you can imagine, and it will leave you spent, but the ring will keep you safe from any evil magic.'
As the deadly bolt flew toward her, Tazi stretched out her left hand in a gesture of defiance and spoke an ancient word. The pain from Ciredor's earlier torture was nothing compared to the hot knives that stabbed her body. A pale, gray shield formed in front of her and deflected Ciredor's attack.
The mage stood amazed. His magic had never failed him before.
Tazi seized his hesitation. Nearly blinded by the pain, she still managed to slide her right hand into her boot and grab her small dagger. No playful, practice throws at the Kit any longer; her life depended on her skill now. She flung her arm out.
The dagger caught Ciredor below his heart. His face a mixture of surprise and shock, he doubled over and sank to his knees. Tazi didn't waste the opportunity. She had noticed the lights flickering and dimming during their battle and suspected the fight was draining Ciredor, though he still had a reserve. The only possibility was the boy. Somehow, his waning life was feeding Ciredor.
As the mage struggled to pull out her dagger, Tazi ran across the room to the divan. She grabbed a large pillow and stumbled over to where the boy lay. There was only one thing to do. Tazi dropped to her knees, no longer feeling any pain, and leaned over the eyeless boy.
'I'm so sorry,' she whispered, the tears barely in check. 'You never had a chance.' With that, she lowered the pillow over his face and leaned against it with all her weight.
The child did not last long. It only took a brief moment for Tazi to take her first life.
The room grew very dim. The shackles binding Steorf began to flicker. Ciredor, who had managed to remove the dagger, tried desperately to staunch the flow of blood with part of his costume. Things were not going as he planned. Wounded and with little energy left, he gave way.
