Drakis flipped over in midair, turning toward the rustling sound behind him. Two of the Iblisi were rising into the sky in his wake, their dark reddish robes rustling as they rushed toward him. He gripped his sword and was suddenly aware of how useless it was; there was no place in the sky where he could plant his feet and get any leverage with which to strike a blow.
The dark spirits of death flew closer to him by the moment as he watched in helpless horror.
In that instant the two figures vanished in a roaring vortex of whirling sand. Drakis felt the magical power that supported him in his flight falter for a few, staggering moments and then vanish altogether as the cyclone tossed and tumbled the robed figures in its grasp. Drakis fell, his free hand clawing at the air. He glimpsed the beach rushing up toward him just before he closed his eyes. .
Something shoved him sideways, and in the next moment he was rolling across the sand.
Drakis pushed his feet under him, dragging his sword from the sand and taking a defensive stance though what he saw astonished him. The Sondau raiders were crouched down, prepared to meet the enemy, but it was Jugar who was commanding the cyclone.
The vortex was spinning along the shore, dancing before the short, upstretched arms of the dwarf. Jugar’s face was nearly beet-red with the effort as he stood with his feet pressed hard against the sand and the Heart of Aer in his left hand shining with a purplish light that made Drakis uneasy just to look at it. Jugar glanced at Drakis, saw that he was once more on his feet, and flicked the wrist of his extended right hand.
One of the Iblisi shot from the vortex, spinning with frightening speed directly toward Drakis. The human warrior’s trained muscles reacted before the thought entered his mind; he raised the blade over his head and stepped into the onrushing target. The whirling target did most of the work against the keen edge of the blade, nearly dividing the elf in two across the abdomen. As the target fell squealing to the ground, Drakis quickly reversed the blade in his hands and plunged it down directly into the creature’s heart.
“Three,” he counted. As he turned to stand, more movement caught his eye. “Jugar! More! On the ground!”
The dwarf shifted at once. The vortex collapsus, tossing the suddenly freed Iblisi into the jungle trees. Drakis heard with satisfaction the elf slamming into a tree trunk with the sound of a smashing melon. Instantly, this was followed by an enormous wave drawn up from the bay. Its sea-foam face rose higher and higher, shimmering in the light of the burning village as it arched over and crashed down upon the advancing reddish robes. The waters flowed on into the village and over the fires, snuffing out a wide swath of the flames and filling the air with dense smoke.
Through the smoke leaped four more of the robed horrors-one of them soaring directly toward the dwarf, its Matei staff pointed at his heart.
The dwarf turned toward his attacker, but the Sondau chose that instant to rise up. Three of them intercepted the Iblisi charging Jugar, physically knocking the magic-wielding elf down as he approached the ground. The Iblisi obliged them, countering with his staff in a blur of moves, killing the three of them where they stood around him nearly at once. More of the Sondau had joined in the fray but they, too, were faring no better.
Drakis ran to the dwarf. “Jugar!”
“I’m nearly done, boy,” the dwarf said as he tried desperately to catch his breath.
“Get up! We’ve got to keep moving!”
“We can’t hold them,” the dwarf grimaced. “Back, Drakis! We’ve got to get back to the boats!”
Drakis dragged the dwarf to his feet. The Sondau line of battle was literally evaporating into a bloody mist before the power of the Iblisi magic.
They turned toward the boats that were still hovering near the shore, still struggling to load people aboard.
They ran, knowing that the Iblisi would be right on their heels. They had tried to purchase enough time for the ships to get away, and they knew they had failed.
Soen strode through the village, a circle of frost crackling around him wherever he stepped. His footfalls froze the fires beneath them, snuffing them out in a swath behind him.
As he walked he became two. . walking side by side with a duplicate of himself.
Then he became four, then eight, sixteen, thirty-two.
Each laid frost in his wake, turning the fires of the village cold, their light extinguished with each step.
They broke ranks, dozens of Soens moving through the burning paths of the village, drawing cold darkness behind them.
Occasionally one of their number would happen upon an Assesia and beckon him to follow. Twice different Soens of their number came upon Codexia, all of whom were astonished to see him but followed as well. Slowly, the members of the Quorums were being drawn into the center of what remained of the village.
It was only a matter of minutes before one of them encountered the Inquisitor who was leading the raid.
“Drakis? What is it?”
The warrior stood looking down the beach and then along the line of the still burning homes nearer the water’s edge. “They’ve stopped! They’re moving back into the village.”
“We’ve beaten them?” the dwarf said doubtfully.
“No, they
“Who here has countermanded my orders!” screamed the Inquisitor as he strode into the small village square, still burning brightly in places around what had once been a green but was now trampled and utterly spoiled. Around the square, ten red-robed Iblisi stood silently watching and listening. “The rebel Drakis is known to be harbored here. This village and everyone in it is an offense to the Imperial Will, and by decree its utter destruction is ordained! Who ordered this withdrawal? Who ordered you here?”
“I did,” a voice answered from atop the stairs that once led to the now burned-out lodge.
The Inquisitor looked up and then, through a tight smile, drew out the name as he spoke as though tasting blood in each syllable.
“Soen.”
“Yes,” Soen replied as he carefully descended the steps, his hood drawn back, his black eyes shining in the light of the fires. “I thought perhaps you and I should talk this out before you carelessly murder anyone else on your little crusade, Jukung. It
“It is,” Jukung replied, pulling back his own hood. The burn-scarred tissue drew his lips back hideously from his teeth, and one of his eyes had gone a flat gray. “Sorry, I’ve no more time for you.”
“That always was your problem,” Soen continued, pushing past the robed Iblisi around the square. “Always in such a hurry, always wanting to smash things and get it over with so you could move one more step higher in the eyes of the Keeper.”
“And your problem,” Jukung sneered, “was always one of insufferable arrogance. Some of us, however, prefer action over talk.”
Jukung raised his hand. The robed elves around the square lowered their Matei staves, leveling them directly at Soen.
“Wait! There’s something you need. .”
“Good-bye, Soen. I’ll convey your regrets to Keeper Ch’drei.”
“But you don’t know. .”
Jukung dropped his hand.
