The bats abruptly spun away from him as if a whirlwind had caught them. In fact, they were suffering the effects of the same charm that had repelled the enormous fleas. It was supposed to work on any sort of vermin, and apparently even creatures like these were susceptible.
The bats swirled together and became Tammith once more. Her fangs shortened into normal-looking teeth, and her face twisted in anguish. 'I'm sorry!' she whispered. 'I'm sorry.'
He inferred that his magic had done what his punch could not: Shock her out of her predatory frenzy and restore her to something approximating sanity. He sheathed his blade, put his cloak back on, extended his hand, and stepped toward her.
'It's all right,' he said.
She recoiled. 'Stay away! I don't want to hurt you.'
'Then you won't.'
'I will. Even though I… fed on poor Yuldra already. Something about who you are, what we are to each other, makes it worse. Don't you understand what's happened to me?'
He realized he was reluctant to say the word 'vampire,' as if speaking it aloud would seal the curse for eternity. 'I have some idea, but what magic can do, it can undo. People say the holiest priests even know rituals to… restore the dead to life. We just have to get you away from here, and then we'll find the help you need.'
She shook her head. 'No one can help me, and even if somebody could, I'm not able to go to him. I'm more of a slave now than I was before Xingax changed me. He chained my mind, bound me to serve the wizards and their cause.'
'Maybe I can at least do something about that. It wouldn't be the first enchantment I've broken with a song.'
'You can't break this one. Get away from here while you still can.'
'No. I won't leave without you.'
She glared at him. 'Why not? You abandoned me before.'
Her sudden anger shocked him. 'That's not true. I left Bezantur to make us a future.'
'Well, this is the one you made for me.'
'That isn't so. I'm going to save you. Just trust-'
A voice sounded from overhead: 'What are you doing in here?'
Bareris looked up to behold the most grotesque creature he'd ever seen. Riding on the back of what appeared to be a zombie hill giant, the thing looked like a man-sized, festering, and grossly malformed infant or fetus. He surmised that it could only be Xingax, 'the whelp.'
Bareris reminded himself that he was still wearing a red robe and still cloaked in an enchantment devised to quell suspicion and inspire good will in others. In addition to that, Xingax was squinting down at him as if the mismatched eyes in his lopsided face didn't see particularly well. Perhaps this encounter needn't be disastrous.
The bard lowered his gaze once more. He hoped Xingax would take it for a gesture of respect, or a natural human response to profound ugliness, and not an attempt to keep the creature from getting a better look at an unfamiliar face.
'I was just curious to see what you'd made of the slave.'
'Do I know you?'
A bead of sweat oozed down Bareris's brow. He wished he knew the proper attitude to assume. Was Xingax a servant, something a supposed Red Wizard should treat with the same arrogance he showed to most creatures, or did the abomination expect a degree of deference?
'I'm new. So far, I'm just performing routine tasks. Creating zombies and the like.'
'I see. What's your name?'
'Toriak Kakanos.'
'Well, Toriak, let's have a decent look at your face, so I'll know you in the future.'
Bareris reluctantly complied. When his eyes met Xingax's, a malignant power stabbed into the core of him, searing and shaking him with spasms of debilitating pain. He crumpled to the floor.
'It was a good try,' Xingax said, 'but I meet all the wizards as soon as they come through the portal. Is it possible this is… what was the name?… never mind. The bard who tried to rescue you before.'
'Yes,' Tammith groaned.
'Drink from him and try to change him as the ritual changed you. It's another good test of your new abilities.'
Bareris fought to control his breathing then started singing under his breath.
'Please,' Tammith said, 'don't make me do it.'
'Why not?' Xingax replied. 'Don't you love him? Wouldn't you rather he continue on still able to think, feel, and remember? Isn't that better than making him a mindless husk?'
'No!'
The whelp snorted. 'I'll never understand the human perspective. It's so perverse. Even so, it grieves me to deny my daughter's request, but the truth of the matter is, if this fellow wields bardic magic, survived a battle with Muthoth, So-Kehur, and their guards, and found his way to our secret home, then, like yours, his courage and talents are too valuable to waste. I must insist you transform him. You'll thank me later.'
Haltingly, as though still struggling against the compulsion, Tammith advanced on Bareris.
Her resistance gave him time to complete his song, and its power washed the pain and weakness from his body. The question was, what to do next?
He was sure he had no hope of defending himself against Tammith and Xingax simultaneously. He had to neutralize one of them fast, before either realized he'd shaken off the effect of the fetus-thing's poison gaze, and unfortunately, Tammith was both the more immediate threat and the one within reach of his sword.
Despite what she'd become, striking the blow was the hardest thing he'd ever done, but he wanted to survive and do so as a living man, not an undead monstrosity, so he leaped to his feet and drove his sword into her stomach.
The stroke would have killed any ordinary human, if not instantly, then after a period of crippling agony, but if the tales he'd heard were true, a vampire would survive it. He prayed it was so, and he prayed too that the wound would incapacitate her long enough to make a difference.
He yanked his sword free of her flesh, and she doubled over clutching at the gash. Making sure he didn't look up and meet Xingax's gaze again, he dashed for the doorway. The catwalk banged as the giant zombie lumbered after him.
The huge corpse had longer legs than he did. Aware that he was running short of spells, he nonetheless sang a charm to quicken his stride. It might be the only hope he had of keeping ahead of his pursuers.
Of course, it likely wouldn't be long before he blundered into some of Xingax's allies, at which point the fetus-thing would yell for them to stop him. Then, with new foes in front of him and his current ones pounding up behind, it would make no difference how fast he could run.
He halted, lifted his head, and shouted. The blast of sound jolted and splintered the section of catwalk immediately in front of the huge zombie. Its next heavy stride stamped a hole in the weakened planks, and then it crashed through altogether, carrying its rider along with it.
The two creatures slammed down hard in a clattering shower of broken wood. Bareris didn't expect the fall to destroy the zombie outright, but he dared to hope he'd damaged it and maybe slain the feeble-looking Xingax.
The zombie tried to rise and the whelp slipped from its shoulders. Evidently he couldn't hold on anymore. The undead giant fell back on top of him when one of its legs buckled beneath it.
Bareris could scarcely believe how well the trick had worked. How lucky he'd been. He sprinted on, found a staircase, climbed to the catwalks, and headed for the portal. He'd just promised Tammith he wouldn't leave her here, but the plain truth was now he had to get away or die, quite possibly when she murdered him herself. He vowed to himself that he'd return and next time rescue her. Somehow. Somehow.
His guts churned, his vision blurred, and a pang of headache jabbed through his skull. Something was making him ill. He cast about for the source of his distress and saw nothing.
He recalled his orc informant warning him that a person needed protection merely to come into proximity with Xingax. Could that possibly be what ailed him? If so, where was the whelp? A sudden blast of cold coated the right side of his body with frost and chilled him to the core. He'd seen battle mages conjure such attacks. Shaking,
