for Jhess?' 'Pray?' Semoor said.
'Tluin!' Florin barked in amused exasperation. 'Just tluin off!'
'Oh, bright Morninglord, aid me as I obey the esteemed and manly Florin Falconhand!' Semoor cried as he scrambled up onto the ledge. 'Let the rosy hue of your approval bathe-'
'Semoor!' Islif and Florin roared in unison. 'Shut up!'
'— even my decidedly less than devout, silence-loving companions-'
Doust reached the ledge, planted his mace on its stone with one hand, and swung his other arm up and around in a wild bid for balance.
Out of sheer luck, the hand on the end of that arm made abrupt contact with Semoor's mouth, and whatever else he'd been going to say was abruptly silenced.
Leaving everyone ample opportunity to hear the eager roar that was rising from two throats, as something twice as tall as Florin burst around and over the last few trees, branches splintering, and charged at the Knights.
It was a two-headed giant, all massive, corded muscles and hungry fury. Drool sluiced past the jutting tusks of its shovel mouths in a rain as it broke off its roaring run forward to bellow something.
'That's an ettin!' Semoor shouted. 'Saw it in one of the Palace bestiaries!'
The ettin bellowed and flung wide its arms, both of them as long as Islif's body. Gigantic iron morningstars in its fists rattled out at full swing to crash against tree trunks.
'Why, thank you, Semoor!' Pennae said. 'Whenever I want to know what's trying to kill me, I can turn to you for its proper name!'
The ettin charged.
'Pennae, circle and hamstring, but only when you can get back and away fast!' Florin shouted. 'Holynoses, pick up Jhess, and be ready to run along the ledge as fast as arrows! Islif and I will stand against it, but we can't shove it back!'
A morningstar crashed down as if to underscore his' words, striking sparks from the stones as it just missed Islif-a result she managed to achieve by hurling herself face-first downslope into gravel.
Florin's sword rang like a bell, and his body trembled along with it, as the other morningstar glanced off it, whirling hard, and started to enwtap it in chain. Cursing, the ranger ducked down and let go of his blade, seeking to avoid being bound up helplessly against his own weapon.
'Where in the Nine stlarning Hells did it get two morningstars that size?' Semoor demanded of the night at large, waving his mace for balance as he and Doust struggled to loft the limp burden of Jhessail between them.
'Temple of Tempus?' Doust offered. 'Tore them out of all those oversized weapons they like to hang above their gates?'
'While the war-priests did what? Sat and watched? Laid wagers?'
Doust shrugged. 'Well, if it wasn't temple-theft, he killed someone and took them. A giant someone.'
'Holynoses,' Pennae's voice came out of the night from somewhere in the darkness at the bottom of the slope, 'could you find something else to talk about, just now? Like what useful holy spells you can smite this thing with? I'd rather not be reminded of what those things can do!'
'Tymora!' Doust coughed, grimacing. 'This thing stinks!'
'You don't say!' Islif shouted back, scrambling to her feet amid tumbling gravel and slashing out wildly at one huge, corded leg as she slid past onto fitm footing.
The ettin roared and tried to club her with a morningstar, smashing thornbushes and saplings to tumbling splinters in her wake as Islif ducked around behind it-and ran full-tilt into Pennae.
Breast-to-breast they slammed together, the wind gasping out of both of them, and fell helplessly to the ground. Islif wrapped an arm around the thief and rolled desperarely, trailing her sword behind her. Both she and Pennae had been slicing at the backs of the ettin's legs, butThe ettin screamed-rwo raw, ear-numbing shrieks of agony-then stumbled, morningstars crashing down. Whereupon it suddenly became Florin's turn to dive for his life, face-first into gravel.
He did so, clawing and scrabbling to propel himself onward, riding the scree.
'Heroic, very heroic!' Semoor called from the ledge.
Florin called something back that was more profane than heroic.
He was still angrily doing so when his sword clanged and tumbled on stones somewhere far behind and above him, where the morningstar chain had flung it.
The ettin roared in pain, hopping awkwardly sideways-through a tree-and trying to turn and see what had hurt it so much.
Islif kept rolling with Pennae in her arms, whooping and fighting for breath, trying to get them both away behind too many trees for the two-headed giant to smash aside.
'Jhess!' Semoot said up on the ledge, shaking the shoulder he had hold of and trying to ignore the wildly lolling head atop it. 'Wake up! Wake up! We need you to blast something!'
Florin reached the end of the gravel and slid into a thornbush. The ertin was headed away from him now, hitting out viciously behind itself with both morningstars. The ranger fought his way free and to his feet, snatching out his dagger and thinking just how useless it would be against this foe even as he did so. His sword was lost somewhere up on the scree yonder, with no moonlight to make it glint, andRight in front of him, not the reach of an arm from the point of his dagger, a vivid blue flash of light split the night-gloom.
Laspeera lowered her arms, looked over her shoulder at Lorbryn Deltalon, and nodded.
He returned her nod and began casring the same spell. Dalonder Ree stood like a calm statue until the blue flash claimed him, leaving the diamond on the floor empty and just the two war wizards in the chamber.
They looked at each other down the length of the room. By the faint glow of the shieldings Laspeera had raised around them when they'd first brought Dauntless and Dalonder into the spellcasting chamber, each could see that the other wasn't smiling.
'Well, that's done,' Laspeera said. 'Up to the scrying spheres to watch them.'
Deltalon shook his head. 'You watch. I'm going after them.'
The second-most-powetful Wizard of War in all the land stared at him expressionlessly. Then, slowly and carefully, she drew a wand from her belt.
Deltalon took a step back, going tense. If she used it on him, there was little he dared do to try to counter the magic, standing here in the grip of her shielding.
Laspeera walked down the room toward him, face still expressionless.
Deltalon retreated anorher step, then stood his ground.
When she was close enough to touch him, Laspeera stopped, reversed the wand, and handed it to him, butt first. 'Force spheres,' she almost whispered. 'To confine a foe or englobe and protect a friend. Nine of them. Come back alive, if you can.'
She opened her arms to him.
Deltalon hugged her fiercely, overcome with gtatitude and relief, the wand solid and comforting in his hand.
'And if I do not,' he whispered into her ear as they rocked together in their shared embrace, 'beware a possible Wizard of War traitor. The man I've seen binding the mindworm-touched nobles under his personal control: Vangerdahast, the Royal Magician of Cormyr.'
Laspeera sighed against his neck, then whispered, 'Thank you, Lorbryn. All good gods watch over you.'
She kissed his neck, then drew smoothly back and away, leaving his skin tingling.
Deltalon swallowed, saluted her with the wand, thrusr it through his belt, then carefully teleported himself away.
Laspeera stood gazing at the spot where he'd been standing for a long time, pondering things. Then she lifted her head and out of habit gazed all around the empty chamber.
It was indeed empty, looking precisely as it should. Biting her lip gently to keep a wry smile from climbing onto her face at what she knew she was about to discover, she lifted her hands and made the simple gesture that would banish her shielding spell. The new shielding was of her own devising, subtly different from the one Vangerdahast had taught her to use.
