glistening slime trail in Anammelech’s wake. He was reminded of a snail’s trail.
The blightlord slid to within just a few feet of Marrec and Ususi. They both stood ready, Marrec with Justlance, Ususi poised to fling a spell.
“I guess I should thank you,” continued Anammelech in a conversational tone, “You fit the description of those who slew my compatriot. I’ve always fancied Gloomgate, but the weapon was given him by the Talontyr. With Gameliel’s death, Gloomgate passed to me.” He gestured with the halberd-shaped profanity.
Despite the part of his mind warning him against striking up a conversation with the blightlord, Marrec blurted, “Our description?”
“When it appeared to me, it told me of Gameliel’s slaying, and about his slayers. It told me of all your plans, so you see, I knew you were going to Yeshelmaar. I even guessed you might come here, chasing after that poor little girl.”
Marrec glared at the dark weapon. Intelligent weapons were rare, and those aligned with evil even more so. Truly Gloomgate was an abomination.
“Imagine my surprise when our spy Fallon gifted me with this…” said the blightlord as he drew forth the dully glinting Keystone.
Marrec’s eyes widened. Ususi gasped.
“Where’s Ash?” rasped the unicorn warrior. If Anammelech had the Keystone, he must also have the girl.
“I sent Ash’ along ahead with Fallon. The Talontyr wants to see her.” Anammelech chuckled, though the sound bubbled up as if from lungs choked with fluid.
Marrec brought his own spear up, tip dancing a few feet away from unconcerned features of Anammelech. “We destroyed Gameliel and doubt not that you’ll fall just as easily. So leave us, and retreat whence you’ve come. If we find that you’re following us, we’ll be forced to destroy you. You’ve been warned.”
Anammelech’s chuckle grew into a full-throated laugh of incredulity.
“First,” added Ususi, “Hand over the Keystone. It is mine.” She held out her left hand palm up.
“You want this?” asked the blightlord, a playful note in his voice. He dangled the Keystone higher, causing it to swing back in forth before Ususi. “I’m afraid I’ve grown quite fond of it in just the short time it’s been with me. Quite an interesting little area this trinket unlocks. Once I’ve dealt with you, I intend to explore it at my leisure.”
Marrec came to the end of his patience. “You’ve had your warning.”
Anammelech sighed. He said, “Don’t you think Gloomgate has informed me of your abilities? Even now, it whispers to me of your failing spells, your needy spear with its inability to be parted from you, and your sad devotion to a diminished goddess. And you,” he turned his empty sockets on Ususi, “are completely reliant upon spells, especially fire. Good thing fire has no power over me.”
Like the head of a striking adder, the axe head of Gloomgate lashed out, slashing Ususi down the side. Black mist smoked off the halberd, tracing its deadly path through the air. The blade left a horribly long, deep gash. Blood flowed. Ususi screamed as she collapsed backward then fell prone, unmoving.
“Now, you’re dead,” concluded Anammelech.
Marrec berated himself for speaking to the blightlord. Anammelech had lulled them with his calm approach and insipid conversation. Without speaking, he drove Justlance hard into the blightlord’s body, attempting to thrust through the migrating plate armor, but the enchanted armor resisted.
The moving plates caught his thrust and held his spear fast between two segments. He grunted, attempting to push the spear through.
Anammelech was back to chuckling.
Marrec mentally grasped the remaining charge of strength left in the gauntlets given to him by the Nentyarch. In one gulp, all the remaining magic stored in the gloves was drained and instead danced in his sinews. With a truly superhuman effort granted by that strength, he broke through the resistance of the sliding armor as if it were tissue. His spear penetrated all the way through Anammelech’s body. His gauntleted hands still held to the shaft but were pressed up against Anammelech, so far had the blightlord been run through,
“I should have told you,” confided Anammelech, his face inches from Marrec, his breath as rotten as spoiled flesh, “Armor is just a shape I like to take on occasion. Really, I’m much more amorphous.” The blightlord’s ‘armor’ began to writhe where it touched Marrec’s spear. A horribly sentient surge of liquid ooze ran up the spear shaft, up Marrec’s arms, and across his face.
Marrec convulsed, attempting to throw himself back. The flowing ooze had too strong a grip on him. The blightlord’s entire body opened up like a wet glove and attempted to engulf him.
Realization flashed for Marrec. He had seconds to live, and his mind was giving him the grace of slowed perception to allow him to come to terms with his fate. Nothing he did would matter; all his options pointed to his ending. He could accept that, he decided, but not without a statement.
The flowing grip of Anammelech strengthened as he was pulled more firmly into an all-encompassing grasp of living ooze.
Marrec would die, yes, but he would expire while being true to his long-hidden nature. Maybe he could do some good and redeem both himself and the sin that still stained his heart since he had slain Thanial so long ago…
The blightlord’s voice purred, close and intimate, “I told you I knew all about you.”
The unicorn warrior whispered back, “Did your damned weapon tell you about my eyes?”
“Why would it?”
Marrec’s terrible gaze was drawn out like a sword from its scabbard.
“What’s this? What… That’s not…” Anammelech tried to heave his flowing body away from the searing gaze of the cleric. Marrec’s eyes had become a strobe of light and dark illumination, blasting into the flesh of the blightlord with a transformative grasp that Anammelech was incapable of resisting.
Laughter was gone then. As the stone tide overtook the soft-bodied blightlord, one last whimper escaped the Talontyr’s servant before his voice, too, was locked in a tomb of stone.
|flarrec can handle himself,” grunted Gunggari, not for the first time.
Elowen gritted her teeth as she slashed the length of Dymondheart through the form of yet another twigblight that had sidled too close. The creature explosively shattered with the contact. The living wood of her intelligent blade was anathema to the obscene creatures. Dymondheart’s mere touch not only robbed them of animation but violently dissembled the creatures into so much kindling. The larger ones were smart enough to stay back, but every few seconds a smaller twigblight forgot the fate of all its earlier siblings and rushed forward. Despite the dozens she had shattered, a whole herd of the constructions followed behind them down the arch- defined lane, keeping pace. Maybe that was what they were supposed to do, merely keep her and the Oslander busy.
Elowen guarded as Gunggari paused and got down on his haunches again, studying the dirt, still on the trail of Fallon, Henri, and Ash. Elowen’s training and natural abilities were sufficient to follow the trail without too much trouble, but she had to keep Dymondheart ready. Besides, Gunggari’s ability to track verged on the supernatural. He made observations about their quarry that even Elowen at her best could not deduce from simply looking at the disturbed ground.
Gunggari said, “This track is over three hours old.” He rose, continuing his swift pace. Elowen followed after, her eyes to the rear, guarding their flank.
She asked, “How did Fallon get so far ahead of us?”
The elf saw Gunggari’s shrug out of the corner of her eye. He offered, “Ususi said time was mismatched between the interior and exterior of her pathway dimension. The elf must have exited much earlier than we thought.”
Elowen checked to make sure the rustling, creaking, walking grove of dead sticks keeping pace with them moved no closer. Satisfied, she stole a glance forward along their route. The green haze was thicker, further limiting visibility ahead. The stone arches were getting farther apart, more eroded, and less able to keep out the undergrowth. Trees and other forest growth crowded into the lane from either side. Whatever property kept the lane open at the other end seemed to be failing so far into the forest. Elowen had never walked so far under the Arches of Xenosi. She was idly curious about finding the last arch.
Though the mist was thicker ahead, their passage up the lane seemed to have dispersed the haze behind,
