Return of the Sorceress (12 page)

“Any sign of hounds?” Davyn called to Sindri.

The kender, who looked as if he were enjoying his centaur ride immensely, took a quick glance around.

“Not yet!” he answered.

A howl echoed through the air, sounding uncomfortably close despite Sindri’s words.

Before fleeing the forest, the companions had all rolled in the dust to wipe off as much blood as they could and to cover the scent of what remained. But from the sound of it, Davyn feared their precautions had been wasted. The hounds already had the scent. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Kuruk and Shiriki had left blood trails all over the keep grounds to stir up the hounds and lead them to the companions.

They ran straight for the rock, weapons drawn. Though Ayanti could run much faster than the rest of them and could’ve reached the stone first, she matched her pace to theirs. They’d decided they all would have a better chance against the hounds if they remained together.

“Over there!” Sindri pointed northward. “I see three, no, four of them!”

Blast! Davyn had hoped they’d only have to deal with one or two at the most.

“Ayanti, Catriona! Keep going! Elidor and I will stay back and try to hold them off!”

“We will?” Elidor said, sounding skeptical. But the elf stopped running and instantly fell into a fighting stance. Davyn stood by his side and together they faced north.

Four large black dogs bounded across the grassy plain, tongues lolling, jaws flecked with foam. These beasts weren’t just eager to close in for the kill, Davyn realized, They lusted for it.

The ranger drew an arrow from his quiver and nocked it.

“Uh, remember what I said back at Ravenscar, about all this being your fault?” Davyn began. “I just want you to know that I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I was just upset about Nearra.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Elidor said. “You were right. I should’ve behaved more responsibly.” The elf twirled his knives in his hands. “Do you think I should use my bow instead?”

“Not if you want to hit anything,” Davyn said. Despite being an elf—and half Kagonesti at that—Elidor had yet to gain skill with a bow, which was something of a sore point with him.

The largest of the four hounds came running at Davyn. The young ranger took aim at the beast and fired. The arrow struck the dog in its left shoulder, and although it yelped in pain and stumbled, it did not go down.

“Blast!” Davyn swore. “Maddoc’s hounds are bred and trained to resist pain, but even so, I’m amazed it can take such a wound and keep coming.” He readied another arrow and released it at the same animal. This time the dog dodged to the right at the last instant, and the arrow thunked into the ground.

“I understand the dogs are well trained,” Elidor muttered, “but I can’t believe they’re
that
well trained.”

The hounds were closing fast and would be upon them in moments. They hadn’t managed to disable a single one.

Elidor nervously juggled his throwing knives. “Perhaps once they get close enough, they’ll be so intimidated that they’ll turn tail and slink back to their kennel.”

“I wouldn’t count on it.” Davyn fired a third arrow. The shaft caught another hound on the flank, but it caused only a grazing blow and the point didn’t stick. The dog didn’t slow down, didn’t so much as yelp. Davyn doubted the beast even knew it had been hit.

“Perhaps you need to spend a little more time at archery practice,” Elidor said.

“I hope I live long enough to take your advice.” Davyn didn’t think he could get another arrow off in time. He dropped his bow to the ground and drew his hunting knife.

As the four hounds came near, two of them suddenly broke away and angled off to the right. At first, Davyn thought the pair intended to attack from two different sides. But as the gap between the two pairs of hounds widened, Davyn realized with horror that the hounds had split into separate attack groups. One pair continued toward Elidor and him, while the other pair ran toward Ayanti, Catriona, and Sindri.

Davyn risked a glance over his shoulder and saw that the others had reached the stone. Sindri had dismounted and now stood before the boulder, hands raised in a mystic gesture. Catriona gripped her dragon claws and stood ready to defend Sindri. Ayanti stood at the warrior’s side, holding Catriona’s sword. Davyn knew that Ayanti wasn’t trained to wield the weapon, but it was better than trying to face the hounds armed with only a dagger and her hooves.

Davyn turned forward again just in time to see the hound with the arrow jutting out of its shoulder leap for his throat.

He raised his blade, intending to gut the animal, but the dog was too fast and Davyn too slow. The hound crashed into the ranger and they fell to the ground in a tangled mass of arms, legs, fur, and gnashing teeth.

Sindri really wanted to turn around and watch the hounds attack—not only because he’d never seen a pack of hounds in action (especially a
wizard’s
hounds!) but because he wanted to know if his friends needed his help. But he restrained himself. He had a job to do, and his friends were counting on him.

Sindri stretched his hands toward the rock and concentrated on shutting out the barking and growling of the approaching hounds. He extended his awareness toward the mass of stone before him, and he pictured it rising into the air. At first nothing
happened and Sindri became aware of a great heaviness pressing down upon him as if he were trying to physically lift the rock instead of levitate it with his magic. But then his hands began to grow cool, as if they were immersed in cold water, and he felt the sensation of heaviness begin to diminish.

As Sindri watched in amazement, tendrils of multicolored mist curled from his fingers and drifted toward the stone.

“Well, this is something new!” he said in delight. Strands of red, blue, green, violet, orange, and yellow wrapped around the rock and suddenly the feeling of heaviness was completely gone. Sindri felt so full of power, it was as if he could not only levitate the rock, but he could send it soaring up into the heavens if he wished.

It seemed that he had reached a new level in his development as a wizard, though he had no idea how or why.

Time enough to sort it out later, he told himself. Right now you’ve got a great big rock to move!

Sindri concentrated harder. He felt energy pouring out of him, as if he were a dam that had just sprung a leak. The boulder began to shudder and then rise upward. Only a few inches at first, but then a few more, and a few more, until the great stone hovered three feet above a dark opening in the ground—the tunnel entrance Davyn and Ayanti had discovered years ago.

Sindri could hear fighting behind him, dogs snarling and snapping, his friends yelling and grunting with effort as they defended themselves.

Don’t turn around, Sindri warned himself. Your friends can take care of themselves. It’s your job to move the rock off to the side so that we can get into…

The kender’s thoughts trailed off. Now that the rock hovered above the ground, he could see two pairs of deerskin-booted feet on the other side. And he knew exactly whom those feet they belonged to.

He turned and shouted over his shoulder. “It’s an ambush! Kuruk and Shiriki are hiding behind the rock!”

Sindri was so surprised by the two elves, and too intent on warning his friends to maintain his concentration. The misty tendrils began to fade, and the stone wobbled in the air. It listed right, then left, and then the tendrils vanished and the boulder came crashing back down to the ground. The impact of the boulder slamming into the tunnel entrance knocked Sindri off his feet. He landed on his back and felt the air whoosh out of his lungs. But that wasn’t all he felt. The ground shuddered and bucked, and then he felt it begin to subside beneath him. And though kender don’t experience the emotion of fear, he came very close to something like it as he realized the stone’s impact had weakened the earth above the tunnels. There was a phrase for what was about to happen. A terrible, awful phrase.

Cave-in.

Sindri scrambled to his feet and turned to run. He felt tired, drained of energy, and the dirt was slipping from beneath his feet as he struggled to get away. The ground began to shake more violently, and a low moaning sound issued from deep within the tunnel depths, as if the earth itself were in pain.

Unable to resist, Sindri glanced back and saw that the boulder was sinking as the ground around it collapsed.

Kuruk and Shiriki had been coming at him, swords drawn, but realizing that something was horribly wrong, they turned and began to run in the opposite direction.

Sindri looked forward and saw his friends doing their best to remain on their feet. Two of the four hounds lay wounded or dead upon the ground, while the remaining two were bounding away, their instinct for survival overriding their training.

Sindri wished he knew a spell to stop a cave-in, but he didn’t. Maybe he could try to levitate his friends so that when the ground
collapsed beneath them, they wouldn’t fall. Of course, he’d never attempted to levitate so many objects at once—and never when the earth was falling out from under his feet—but maybe he could do it using his newfound power. Provided he could maintain his concentration this time.

So as he ran, he focused his thoughts on summoning the strange new magic that dwelled within him. Once again he felt the cool sensation of the multicolored mist coalescing around his fingers. Good. Now all he needed to do was picture—

A loud roaring filled his ears, and he felt the world fall away beneath him. As Sindri tumbled down into darkness, his last thought was for his friends. He wished there was some way he could protect them. And as he fell, tendrils of mist snaked from his fingers.

    M
y lord!”

The voice was muffled, distant, as if the speaker had a mouth full of cotton.

“Be silent,” Maddoc mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter. “Or I’ll turn you into … I don’t know what. Something nasty.” He put his pillow over his head and tried to return to sleep. He was so weary. But then he always was these days. Not for the first time he wondered if power truly was worth the price that it demanded from those who sought it, and as always, he decided that it was.

“I apologize for disturbing you, but you must wake up!”

Maddoc recognized the voice then. It was Oddvar. The normally calm, composed dwarf sounded almost panic-stricken.

Maddoc pushed the pillow off his head and sat up. He scooted to the edge of the bed, threw aside the bed curtains, and saw the dim outline of Oddvar in the gloom of his bedchamber. The Theiwar never used a candle or a lantern if he could avoid it.

“What is it?” Maddoc demanded. “Is something wrong with Nearra?” Excitement surged through him. “Has Asvoria fully emerged at last?”

“No, my lord. The girl remains locked in the chamber where I took her. Drefan, Fyren, and Gifre are standing guard outside her door.”

“Wait a moment.” Maddoc glanced around the room. “Where’s Kaz’un? He’s normally the only being I will permit in my bed chamber.”

“He and I had a bit of a disagreement. And I—” A vicious grin spread across Oddvar’s face. “Well, you could say I sent him home.”

“What have you done with him, you bloodthirsty fool?” The wizard lunged for Oddvar’s throat, but Oddvar threw up his hands.

“Stop! Don’t you want to know what has happened? The ground outside the keep walls has collapsed!”

Maddoc sat back down on the bed. “What? Has one of the tunnels given way?”

“More than one from the extent of the destruction, I’d say.”

Theiwar lived underground, and the dark dwarves understood the ways of stone and the movements of rock and soil as no other race did. If Oddvar said several tunnels had collapsed, Maddoc believed him.

“This seeming disaster might end up working for our benefit. Once we’ve cleared away the debris, we might be able to gain access to sections of the cave system that we’ve never been able to explore.”

“There’s more,” Oddvar said. “Just before the cave-in the hounds went berserk and ran toward that area as if they had caught the scent of trespassers.”