Robillard was deep into spellcasting. He summoned a wave right behind the small craft and the rowboat was lifted up and sent speeding toward shore. The jolt of the sudden wave knocked Catti-brie to the deck and nearly sent Drizzt right over.
Harkle, entranced by the candles, wasn't so fortunate. As the wave crested, coming right over the tide line, he tumbled out.
The rowboat shot ahead, sliding hard onto the beach.
In the surf, ten yards offshore, a drenched Harkle stood up.
A dozen grotesque and bloated forms stood up around him.
'Oh, hello. .' the friendly Harpell started, and then his eyes bulged and nearly rolled from their sockets.
'Eeyah!' Harkle screamed, plowing through the undertow and toward the shore.
Catti-brie was already up and in position, lifting Taulmaril and fitting an arrow. She took quick aim and let fly.
Harkle screamed again as the arrow streaked right past him. Then he heard the sickening thump and splash as an animated corpse hit the water, and understood that he was not the woman's target.
Another arrow followed closely, taking out the next nearest zombie. Harkle, as he came to more shallow water, tore himself free of grabbing weeds and quickly outdistanced the other monsters. He had just cleared the water, putting a few feet of moist sand behind him, when he heard the roar of flames and glanced back to see a curtain of fire separating him from the water, and from the zombies.
He ran the rest of the way up the beach to join the other six by the rowboat and expressed his thanks to Robillard, shaking the wizard so hard that he broke the man's concentration.
The curtain of blocking fire fell away. Where there had been ten zombies, there were now a score, and more were rising from the water and the weeds.
'Well done,' Robillard said dryly.
Catti-brie fired again, blasting away another zombie.
Robillard waggled the fingers of one hand and a bolt of green energy erupted from each of them, soaring down the beach. Three hit one zombie in rapid succession, dropping it to the water. Two sped past, burning into the next monster in line and likewise sending it down.
'Not very creative,' Harkle remarked.
Robillard scowled at him. 'You can do better?'
Harkle snapped his fingers indignantly, and so the challenge was on.
Drizzt and the others stood back, weapons ready, but knowing better than to charge down at their foes in the face of wizardly magic. Even Catti-brie, after a couple of more shots, lowered her bow, giving the competing spellcasters center stage.
'A Calimshan snake charmer taught me this one,' Harkle proclaimed. He tossed a bit of twine into the air and chanted in a cracking, high-pitched voice. A line of seaweed came alive to his call, rose up like a serpent and immediately wrapped itself about the nearest zombie, yanking the thing down under the surf.
Harkle smiled broadly.
Robillard snorted derisively. 'Only one?' he asked, and he launched himself into the throes of another spell, spinning and dancing and tossing flakes of metal into the air. Then he stopped and pivoted powerfully, hurling one hand out toward the shore. Shards of shining, burning metal flew out, gained a momentum all their own, and sent a barrage into the zombies' midst. Several were hit, the ignited metals clinging to them stubbornly, searing through the weeds and the remnants of clothing, through rotted skin and bone alike.
A moment later, a handful of the gruesome zombies tumbled down.
'Oh, simple evocation,' Harkle chided and he answered Robillard's spell by pulling out a small metal rod and pointing it toward the water.
Seconds later, a lightning bolt blasted forth. Harkle aimed it at the water and the bolt blasted in, spreading wide in a circular pattern, engulfing many monsters.
How weird, even funny, that sight appeared! Zombie hair popped up straight and the stiff-moving things began a strange, hopping dance, turning complete circles, rolling this way and that before spinning down under the waves.
When it was over, the zombie ranks had been cut in half, though more were rising stubbornly all along the beach.
Harkle smiled widely and snapped his fingers again. 'Simple evocation,' he remarked.
'Indeed,' muttered Robillard.
Catti-brie had eased her bowstring by this point, and was smiling, sincerely amused, as she regarded her companions. Even Dunkin, so terrified a moment before, seemed ready to laugh aloud at the spectacle of the battling wizards. In looking at the pair, Deudermont was glad, for he feared that the sight of such horrid enemies had defeated his team's heart for this search.
It was Robillard's turn and he focused on a single zombie that had cleared the water and was ambling up the beach. He used no material components this time, just chanted softly and waved his arms in specific movements. A line of fire rushed out from his pointing finger, reaching out to the unfortunate target monster and then shrouding it in flames, an impressive display that fully consumed the creature in but a few moments. Robillard, concentrating deeply, then shifted the line of fire, burning away a second monster.
'The scorcher,' he said when the spell was done. 'A remnant from the works of Agannazar.'
Harkle snorted. 'Agannazar was a minor trickster!' he declared, and Robillard scowled.
Harkle reached into a pocket, pulling forth several components. 'Dart,' he explained, lifting the item. 'Powdered rhubarb and the stomach of an adder.'
'Melf!' Robillard cried happily.
'Melf indeed!' echoed Harpell. 'Now there was a wizard!'
'I know Melf,' said Robillard.
Harkle stuttered and stopped his casting. 'How old are you?' he asked.
'I know Melf's work,' Robillard clarified.
'Oh,' said Harkle and he went back to casting.
To prove his point, Robillard reached into his own pocket and produced a handful of beads that smelled of pine tar. Harkle caught the aroma, but paid it little heed as he was in the throes of the final runes of his own spell by then.
The dart zipped out from Harkle's hand, rocketing into the belly of the closest zombie. Immediately it began to pump forth acid, boring an ever-widening hole right through the creature. The zombie grasped futilely at the wound, even bent low as if it meant to peer right through itself.
Then it fell over.
'Melf!' Harkle proclaimed, but he quieted when he looked back to Robillard and saw tiny meteors erupting from the wizard's hand, shooting out to blast mini-fireballs among the zombie ranks.
'Better Melf,' Harkle admitted.
'Enough of this foolishness,' Captain Deudermont put in. 'We can simply run up off the beach. I doubt they will pursue.' Deudermont's voice trailed away as he realized that neither wizard was paying him much heed.
'We are not on the ship,' was all that indignant Robillard would reply. Then to Harkle, he said, 'Do you admit defeat?'
'I have not yet begun to boom!' declared the obstinate Harpell.
Both launched themselves into spells, among the most powerful of their considerable repertoires. Robillard pulled out a tiny bucket and shovel, while Harkle produced a snakeskin glove and a long, painted fingernail.
Robillard cast first, his spell causing a sudden and violent excavation right at the feet of the closest zombies. Beach sand flew wildly. The monsters walked right into the pit, falling from sight. Robillard shifted his angle and muttered a single word, and another pit began, not far to the side of the first.
'Dig,' he muttered to Harkle, between chants.
'Bigby,' Harkle countered. 'You know of Bigby?'
Robillard blanched despite his own impressive display. Of course he knew of Bigby! He was one of the most powerful and impressive wizards of all time, on any world.
Harkle's spell began as a gigantic disembodied hand. It was transparent and hovered over the beach, in the area near Robillard's first pit. Robillard looked hard at the hand. Three of the fingers were extended, pointing
