heels through the air, and he landed in the icy streambed and struck his head on stone. Bright white lights flared in his vision, and a great roaring sound filled his ears.
I have to get up, he told himself.
He seized on that simple thought with all the desperation of a drowning man and slowly rolled over onto his belly, pushing himself upright with arms that felt as weak and empty as burned-out cinders. He wiped away the blood streaming down his face and looked up, even though the cavern tilted crazily from side to side.
Grayth, sword in hand, fended off Grimlight's snapping jaws, slashing its snout and face with quick thrusts and cuts. Ilsevele danced back away from the monster, sinking arrow after arrow into its thrashing body while Maresa riddled its other flank with her own magic. Araevin groped about in the icy water for his holster of wands, and finally found it. He fumbled with a simple wand for conjuring magic bolts, and took aim at the long, deep wound his disintegration spell had carved from the monster's side.
'Take that,' he gasped, and fired four glowing darts into the gaping hole already scored in Grimlight's body.
Grimlight shuddered and groaned, coiling up its great serpentine body into a squirming ball. It threw up its head to the ceiling, hissing and bubbling deep in its throat, and Grayth staggered forward. One hand cupped on the pommel, the human drove his sword up through the soft white underside of the neck, the jaw, and into the monster's brain. The creature shuddered once and lay still.
Grayth collapsed across the monster he'd just killed, leaning on his sword.
'Thank Lathander that's done,' he groaned. 'I think I'm getting too old for this.'
Ilsevele straightened, lowering her bow. She looked around and caught sight of Araevin.
'Araevin! You're hurt!' she cried, and ran over to take his arm.
Araevin tried to shrug off her help, but his legs felt rubbery and weak.
Til survive,' he managed. 'Let's find the telkiira before we do anything else. And keep an eye open for the daemonfey. The last time we were near a telkiira, they appeared.'
Ilsevele looked closely into his face and frowned.
'Are you trying to break my heart?' she asked. 'First that insane flight of yours against the whole fey'ri army, and now this. Are you trying to make a widow of me before we even marry?'
'You're taking every chance I am,' he replied. 'I'll stop when you do.'
He moved over to Grimlight's hoard. Several of the rotten old chests had been smashed into splinters by the creature's thrashings, and coins and jewels lay scattered all over the cavern floor.
'So what was that, anyway?' Maresa asked. 'Some kind of legless dragon?'
'A behir,' Grayth replied. 'A little like a dragon.' He straightened up and sheathed his sword, turning to join the search. 'So, will this stone look like-'
From the shadows by the steep cleft of the cavern stream, a bright blue ray shot out and struck Araevin in the middle of his torso. Araevin staggered back in surprise, but he was no more wounded than he had been a moment before. Instead, a shimmering blue field of dancing light clung to his body, sparkling in the darkness of the cave.
A dimension lock! he realized.
'Watch out! The daemonfey!' he cried.
Six demons appeared in the behir's cavern, wreathed in foul-smelling smoke. From the cleft more of the fey'ri poured into the room, their eyes glowing red with hate. Behind the demonic warriors came Araevin's enemy, the fierce sorcerer with the armor of golden scales and the jeweled eye patch.
He gestured at Araevin and his comrades and shouted, 'Take them alive! The mage is anchored to this plane and cannot escape us this time!'
Araevin heard Ilsevele's bow thrum, while Maresa swore a vile oath and Grayth drew his sword with a shrill ring of steel. Araevin snapped out the words of terrible ice blast he'd learned from the second telkiira, directing a great white fountain of unendurable frigidity at the fey'ri clambering up into the chamber. The first fey'ri paled into translucent scarlet ice and shattered, and two more staggered under the weight of the magical rime that covered them, stumbling to the cavern floor with the creaking of frost and cracking of ice.
The fey'ri countered with spells of their own. Araevin tried to leap aside from a shimmering hoop of magic that formed in the air and settled down over him, pinning his arms to his side. He managed to gasp out a counter and dismiss the binding spell, only to be knocked senseless by a word of power spoken by the fey'ri captain. He reeled drunkenly across the floor, and a pair of vrocks seized his arms and bore him to the ground.
Distantly, he saw Ilsevele immobilized by a pair of webs that glued her in place with thick, ropy strands of white. Another fey'ri sorcerer captured Maresa with a will-sapping enchantment that bereft her of the volition to move and fight. Her chin sank down to her chest, the point of her rapier drooped to the ground, and the fey'ri warriors hurled her to the ground and began binding her with strong cords.
Stinking of blood and filth, the vulture-demons pinning him wrenched Araevin around and jerked up his head by his hair, laying their talons at his throat. Grayth, fighting with his back to the cave wall, reluctantly stopped and threw down his sword. He, too, was seized and bound with cords.
The spell that had struck Araevin senseless began to fade, and he could hear and comprehend again. The vrocks gripping his arms croaked and chuckled with evil glee, clacking their beaks.
'Let us kill just-t one,' they begged. 'We'll make it slow and delicious-s. Elf tastes so good-d.'
'They are not to be killed until I tell you to kill them,' said the fey'ri captain.
He approached Araevin, his one eye gleaming with malice. He held up his hand the third telkiira pinched between his thumb and forefinger.
'I suppose I should thank you, paleblood,' the demon-elf sneered. 'Not only did you lead us to this stone, you dispatched quite a formidable guardian for us. After all the trouble you've caused me, it is only fitting.'
Araevin rallied enough to raise his head and meet the sinister demonspawn's gaze.
'You've… got your prize,' he gasped. 'What do you need us for, hellspawn?'
'I need you to find me one more gemstone, paleblood,' the fey'ri said, grinning. 'As for your companions, well, I have no use for them at all-unless you prove uncooperative, in which case you'll get to watch them beg for death before we're done. I suppose it's up to you.'
CHAPTER 15
7 Tarsakh, the Year of Lightning Storms
The ruined city of Myth Glaurach seemed empty indeed, without the fey'ri legion encamped among its broken walls and shattered domes. Sarya Dlardrageth prowled the palace she had claimed as her own, restlessly stalking the halls where less than a month before she had held her council of war with the leaders of the fey'ri Houses.
For the past five days her army had retreated north through the desolate vales leading away from Evereska. The vengeance she intended for Evereska would have to wait until she replaced her losses from the failed assault on the Sunset Gate. Of course, she had no shortage of demons and yugoloths. Given a tenday or two to summon more, she might even be able to field an army stronger than that with which she had initially attacked, whereas the Evereskans had no such source of replacements available.
Time, she thought. After five thousand years of imprisonment, now I have so little of it.
She looked up at her son Xhalph, who stood watching her, and said, 'I don't like the idea of leaving my army without supervision, and I must return soon. So, quickly, how are you faring in the High Forest? Be honest.'
Xhalph bared his fangs and folded his four arms in a double row.
'I have driven the wood elves to the foot of the Lost Peaks,' he said. 'I destroyed a dozen of their villages and slaughtered hundreds in each place, but they have finally assembled in strength in the mountains. Now that they have been driven together, I am gathering my wolves into one pack. We will fall on them soon.'
'Have you seen any soldiers from Evermeet?'
'No, but there is an expedition from Silverymoon on its way to reinforce the wood elves: humans, dwarves, and paleblooded race traitors, a little more than a thousand strong.'
