Kassur’s, should suffice to fend the creatures off.
Then, however, wind howled. Anton could barely feel the disturbance in the air where he was, but it staggered the pirates behind the forked tree and ripped leaves spinning upward off the branches. Tu’ala’keth’s goggles jerked off her head and hurtled into the air as well.
It shouldn’t have mattered. The sunlight of the surface world couldn’t blind her in the middle of the night. But in the same instant the whirlwind died, as abruptly as it began, her face lit up like an ember fresh from a blazing fire. She pawed at her features as if she could wipe the glow away, but to no avail.
The black unicorns thundered nearer.
Help her! Anton thought. But as Kassur, brandishing his flickering spear, started to conjure, he backed away from her. No doubt he wanted to ensure that the defense he meant to create would shield only himself.
Tu’ala’keth must have mastered her panic, must have heard her attacker’s pounding approach, for at the last instant, she tried to spring out of the way. Even so, the black unicorn’s horn gored her side, spun her, and dropped her to the ground. The creature turned and reared to pulp her beneath its battering hooves.
Still Kassur made no attempt to aid her. It was Harl who rushed in, scimitar raised, interposing himself between the unicorn and its intended prey. He started to strike a blow, but the creature was faster, and the ore dropped with his head bashed to gory, lopsided ruin.
At least he’d distracted the unicorn long enough for Anton to close with it. He hoped to take the beast from behind and cut a leg out from under it before it knew he was there, but it must have heard or smelled him coming because it whirled to meet him.
He cut; gashed the equine’s flank; then twisted to the right when the pale, whorled horn drove at him. That put him in position for a chop at the unicorn’s neck, and he raised the cutlass to try. The beast’s horn suddenly glowed like crystal filled with tainted moonlight. It whipped its head sideways and bashed him in the chest with the luminous spike.
But it didn’t hit with the point, just the side of the shaft. It should have been a solid, bruising clout, but nothing worse. Alas, the supernatural force the unicorn had invoked amplified the power of the blow. It knocked Anton into the air and threw him several feet. He slammed down hard.
His chest burned, and he felt as if he couldn’t draw a breath. He had no idea how badly the attack had wounded him and had no time to worry about it either. The unicorn sprang after him and reared to hammer him with its hooves.
Anton tried to roll out of the way. For an instant that seemed to stretch out endlessly, he thought his abused body wouldn’t answer to his will, but then he broke through the paralysis that came with shock and flung himself to the side. The unicorn’s hooves slammed down mere inches away, pounding dents into the ground and flinging up bits of dirt.
He had to roll again before he could attempt to scramble to his feet. He was still straightening up when the black unicorn leaped at him, crimson eyes blazing, horn shining with another infusion of malefic power.
He needed another moment to settle into a balanced fighting stance, but he didn’t have it. He’d simply have to manage as best he could. He tried to sidestep and cut at the same time.
The unicorn crashed into him. Flung him reeling backward and down on the ground. He was sure he’d taken a mortal wound, but when he ran his hand over his torso, he couldn’t find a puncture. Some part of the beast’s body had struck him, but he’d dodged the horn.
Something screamed an inhuman scream. Anton forced himself to sit up and look around. His foe lay on its side several feet away, the cutlass buried in the base of its neck. It gave a final cry, and its head thudded down onto the ground. Blood oozed from its mouth and nostrils.
Anton smiled then glimpsed a surge of motion from the corner of his eye. He turned his head, and another black unicorn charged him.
Tu’ala’keth’s steely contralto voice cried words of power. The grass beneath the unicorn’s hooves grew long and whipped around its lower legs. The beast’s momentum kept it plunging forward anyway. Bones snapped, and it crashed to the ground to shriek until the shalarin drove her stone trident between its ribs.
She then hobbled to Anton. The blinding luminescence on her face had disappearedshe’d probably extinguished it with a counterspellbut blood poured from the rent in her side.
“Are you badly hurt?” she asked.
“I’ve been knocked around,” he said, “and taken a little jolt of magical virulence, but I can still fight.
You’re the one who’s really wounded. Fix it before you bleed to death.”
“Yes, now that I have time.” She declaimed a prayer and pressed her hand against the gaping cut. Her webbed fingers glowed blue-green, and the gash closed. Meanwhile, Anton yanked his cutlass from the first unicorn’s carcass and looked to see what else was happening.
Kassur and Chadrezzan stood near the body of the third unicorn, which burned as if someone had dipped it in oil and set a torch to it. Sour-faced, the Talassans were glaring at him and Tu’ala’keth, but they turned away as soon as they noticed him looking back.
Anton realized it hadn’t been a Red Wizard who’d blinded Tu’ala’keth. It had been Chadrezzan, hiding in the shadows.
The knowledge infuriated him, but retribution would have to wait. The attack was faltering. The pirates were game, fighting hard, but as long as the Thayans’ bastion remained unable to be breached, they held an insurmountable advantage.
He turned to Tu’ala’keth. “Are you fit to keep fighting?” he asked.
She sneered. “Of course. Umberlee’s power sustains me, just as it does you.”
“Right. How could I forget? Look, I need to get to the side of the house to try my charm of opening.”
The glimmering membrane flicked across her obsidian eyes. “Do you think it will overcome the enchantment the Red Wizards used to seal the place?”
“It untied your magic tether, didn’t it? I’m lucky with that particular spell. But maybe not lucky enough to run across the clear space without taking a few quarrels in the vitals, or a lightning bolt up the arse.”
“I will shield you.” She raised the bloody trident over her head and chanted words in her own tongue. A grayness thickened in the air. In a moment, most of the world vanished beneath a blanket of mist. The vapor smelled of the sea.
“The enemy will banish the fog quickly,” said Tu’ala’keth. “We must run.”
“Wait! I’ve lost track of where the doors and windows are.”
“I remember.” She gripped his hand. “Come on.”
They rushed the house. A quarrel whizzed down out of the fog and past his head. Evidently some of the Thayan warriors were shooting blind.
But that was the only missile that came anywhere near him, and the facade of the enemy fortress swam out of the murk. As Tu’ala’keth had promised, she’d led him straight to a door.
Just as they reached it, though, a pulse of magic that made his head throb scoured the fog from the air. They pressed themselves against the side of the house to make it awkward for anyone inside or on top to target them, and he began the spell. Knowing he had sufficient power to attempt it only a couple of times, and that the articulation needed to be perfect to overcome Thayan wizardry, he resisted the urge to hurry, even when quarrels thumped into the ground behind him.
As he reached the final word, silvery sparks danced on the surface of the heavy four-paneled door. He tried to twist the wrought-iron handle. It wouldn’t budge, nor would the door shiver even minutely in its frame. It seemed of a piece with the wall around it.
Footsteps shuffled overhead, and Tu’ala’keth rattled off a prayer. Anton glanced up just as the warriors on the roof overturned a cauldron. Boiling water poured down, but the stream divided as it dropped. It splashed, steamed, hissed all around him and the shalarin, but left them untouched.
“Next time,” said Tu’ala’keth, “they will drop something besides boiling water. I will find that more difficult to deflect.”
“Point taken.” He resumed his conjuring.
In response, the entire surface of the door glowed silver. He twisted the handle, and the latch released. He and Tu’ala’keth scrambled inside, and blazing coals rained, thumping and rattling down on the spot they’d just vacated.
Anton cast about for defenders waiting just inside the entry. Feet were pounding above his head, but as yet,
