The twins quickly picked their helpers and made for the door.
'This we could do without,' Coilla grumbled.
Spurral nodded. 'It does spread us a bit thin.'
'So let's get on with it,' Pepperdyne urged.
The Vixens set to trashing the room. Files were torn from the shelves and papers scattered. Furniture was smashed and strewn around. They splattered oil over the debris.
'Right,' Coilla said. 'As soon as the others get back — '
There was movement farther along the room. A door they hadn't seen, set flush to the wall, sprang open. Three robed men came through it. Coilla recognised the trident-shaped weapons they clutched.
She exclaimed, ' Shit.'
One of the robed figures pointed his trident.
Pepperdyne yelled, ' Get down! '
The Vixens hit the deck.
A violet beam cut the air. They felt its heat above their heads. Its glow was so intense it pained their eyes. The bolt struck the shelving behind them, splintering wood and liberating a cloud of fluttering paper. Another blast came instantly. It glanced off a pillar, showering marble chips. A pungent, sulphurous odour perfumed the room.
The Vixens scuttled for shelter. Coilla and Spurral crouched behind an overturned table. Pepperdyne used a nearby heap of wrecked furniture.
As one, the robed humans advanced, tridents raised. A further purple energy shaft crackled past. It punched a wall, exploding plaster and fragments of stone.
'We have to take them out, Coilla,' Spurral said. 'Fast.'
'Tell me about it.'
'Why the hell didn't we bring a couple of bows?'
'I've got these.' Coilla pushed up the baggy sleeve of her shirt, revealing an arm sheath of throwing knives. She plucked one and handed it to her. 'Don't use this 'til I tell you.' Coilla turned and attracted Pepperdyne's attention. She tossed him a knife. He caught it deftly. Then she mimed an order, holding up one, two, then three fingers, and indicated the approaching sorcerers. ' Together,' she mouthed. He understood and nodded.
The robed figures kept coming, unleashing beams of dazzling vigour, ravaging wood, stone and glass.
As the trio passed a tangle of wreckage, one of the Vixens popped up from her hiding place brandishing a sword.
Coilla shouted, 'No!'
The Vixen made to swipe at the nearest sorcerer. He swung, aiming his trident at her. There was a blinding flash. The Vixen's blade took the brunt and instantly turned as red as a heated poker. She squealed and dropped the searing weapon. The sorcerer made to finish her.
' Now! ' Coilla bellowed.
She, Spurral and Pepperdyne leapt up and tossed their knives. Coilla's throw was true. The sorcerer who blasted the Vixen's sword took it directly in the chest. Spurral's pitch was good too, though it incapacitated rather than killed her target. The blade struck his face and put him out of the running. Pepperdyne's shot was an honourable miss, but a miss nonetheless. It flew past his mark's left ear and embedded itself in the spine of a tome.
The sorcerer left standing reacted with a wild spray of energy bolts. Grabbed by her comrades, the Vixen who tried attacking was pulled out of sight as the rays demolished desks and gouged walls. The orcs resumed hugging the floor.
'To hell with this,' Coilla muttered. She gathered up her rough peasant skirt, revealing the hatchet in a scabbard strapped to her thigh. Tugging it free, she rose from her hiding place, arm back, ready to throw.
The remaining sorcerer was a dozen paces away. He saw her, and levelled his trident. There was a kind of stasis. It lasted no more than a split second, but seemed to stretch to eternity. His eyes narrowed as he took aim. Her arm came up and over, muscles straining. The axe left her hand.
It tumbled as it flew, end over end, its blade glinting reflected light. The sorcerer followed its path, his head going back, puzzled at the hatchet's unexpected trajectory. Not towards him, but upwards.
Above the sorcerer, and a little ahead of him, hung one of the massive chandeliers.
The hatchet's razor sharp edge sliced through the rope supporting it.
With a tremendous crash the whole affair plunged to the floor, smashing to pieces on impact. Lit candles bounced in all directions. The scattered oil ignited instantly.
A sheet of yellow-white flame sprang up. It engulfed the sorcerer. His wounded companion, on hands and knees, the throwing knife protruding from his gory cheek, was caught too. Their robes blazing, the shrieking men blundered about, spreading the flames.
The fire swiftly followed the trails of oil, probing the length and breadth of the room. It streaked to the shelved walls and began to climb. Where strewn candles came to rest, fresh gouts of flame broke out. Red tendrils snaked to heaps of furniture, setting them ablaze. A pall of smoke rapidly filled the room.
' Get out! ' Coilla yelled. 'All of you! Out now!'
Coughing and wheezing, sleeves pressed to their mouths, the Vixens groped for the door.
' Come on, come on! ' Coilla urged, and with Pepperdyne's help shepherded the group out.
In the smoky corridor she undertook a quick head count and judged all present.
'Shouldn't we shut these doors?' Spurral asked, indicating the inferno raging in the chamber behind them.
'No,' Coilla said, 'let it spread.'
There was movement at the other end of the corridor. The Vixens went for their weapons.
'Easy,' Pepperdyne cautioned. 'They're ours.'
The unit Coilla sent to search for the chancellery were returning, along with the three who took away the prisoners. They were carrying four or five wooden chests.
The Vixen in the lead, a pleasingly muscular example of orc femininity, nodded at the fire. 'Thought you weren't going to set that off yet.'
'Change of plan,' Coilla told her. 'Any trouble?'
'Nothing we couldn't handle.'
'What'd you get?'
They lifted the lid on one of the chests. Gold and silver coins shone in the fire's glow.
'Good.' Coilla turned to another of the females. 'What about the prisoners?'
'We found a courtyard back there. Shoved 'em into it, barred the door.'
'All right. Now let's find Brelan and Chillder and get out of here.'
She took the lead, with Pepperdyne close behind.
The corridors grew hazy with smoke as they retraced their steps to the room where the looted art was stored. There seemed to be nobody about. That changed when Coilla, jogging ahead, passed a half-open door.
It was thrown wide, and a sword-wielding human leapt out. Alerted by cries from the Vixens, Coilla spun round while fumbling for her sheathed blade. The man lunged at her, sword raised.
He stopped dead in his tracks. The centre of his chest burst in a shower of blood, the tip of a blade protruding. The stunned human looked down at the flowing wound. Then his eyes rolled to white and he toppled, landing at Coilla's feet.
Pepperdyne stooped and wiped his gory blade on the dead man's tunic.
'Owe you again,' Coilla said.
'Forget it.'
They carried on, their mood warier, but met no one else until they reached their destination.
Bodies of several humans littered the storeroom floor. Chillder, Brelan and their helpers were placing artefacts in crates.
'Come on,' Coilla insisted, 'we've got to move!'
'Nearly there,' Chillder replied. She was ramming a figurine into a box.
'We can't take it all.'
'We know,' Brelan said. 'More's the pity. We've picked the best pieces.'
