The half-elf cast a quick glance in his direction and nodded. All traces of levity and humor were gone from the Rashemi's normally good-natured face, and Taen found himself thankful that Borovazk was an ally and not an enemy, for in the grim cast of the ranger's jaws and the man's iron-hard stare, he could see clearly see the warrior who had killed an ice bear with his bare hands.
"Yes, Borovazk," Taen said, drawing his sword as he did so, "it is indeed time." The half-elf waited for half a heartbeat as the Song rose in him once more before he leaped into the fray.
Marissa froze when she heard the harsh tones of the old woman's voice, and her heart pounded violently within her chest. Memories swam before her eyes, visions of an ugly hag bending over her shackled body. Sweat beaded on her face, and she nearly dropped the Staff of the Red Tree from a hand that went suddenly slack from fear. It was as if she were back in the hag's vile chamber of tortures without any hope of rescue. An unpleasant echo of pain seared her flesh as the crone's voice rose to shriek defiantly at her companions.
She would have been caught in the backlash of Taenaran's spell as it collapsed before the witch's arcane onslaught, but the Staff of the Red Tree buzzed angrily in her mind, dispelling the paralysis that had gripped her spirit. Quickly she stepped away from the conflagration and gripped the Rashemi artifact tightly, eyeing the newly joined battle. Roberc's armor burned a dull yellowish-orange in the torchlit cavern as he and Cavan met the snow tiger's charge. The halfling brought his sword up to meet the beast's raking claw and cursed mightily as its incandescent flesh passed right through the metal, reached beneath his armor, and entered the fighter's body.
Marissa watched as Roberc stumbled slightly from the pain of the attack, forcing Cavan to throw himself to the side at the last possible moment to avoid biting down on his master's flesh. The war-dog recovered quickly, however, and lunged forward, deftly dodging a powerful slash of the tiger's razored claws. Cavan opened his jaws wide, prepared to bite deeply into his enemy's neck-and nearly fell in a tangle of fur and barding as his momentum carried him right through the creature. Saliva sprayed wildly as his jaws snapped together on empty air.
"Taenaran," Marissa shouted to the half-elf as she observed the battle, "the beast is incorporeal. They'll need help."
Taenaran nodded and quickly moved behind his companions. The druid heard his voice call out the words to a spell moments before twin green auras sprang to life around the half-elf's hands. Careful not to interfere with his companion's attacks, Taenaran touched both Roberc and Cavan. Immediately, the auras flared brightly then disappeared.
Marissa knew that whatever spell he had cast would help her friends-but would it be enough? Already the crone had used the distraction of the snow tiger's attack to begin a spell of her own. The druid could see black and purple energy coalescing around the crone's upraised hands as she chanted and called out in a harsh, guttural language that sounded to Marissa like the screams of a thousand banshees.
Two shimmering arrows hissed out of the shadows, streaking toward the chanting crone from Borovazk's heavy bow. Marissa hoped that the gleaming arrows would have an effect, somehow interrupting the witch's dark incantation, but the druid's hopes were dashed like an old boat slammed against the rocks in a heavy tide. Ebon power flashed forth from the witch's baleful eye socket, striking the missiles as they sped toward their intended target and instantly vaporizing them.
Marissa knew that they would all be in serious trouble if they didn't deal with the witch soon. Moving deftly around Borovazk's bulky form, the druid opened her spirit to Rillifane's power. Gratefully, she accepted the surge of divine energy and shaped it with the words of a familiar prayer. The air grew warmer in the cavern for just a moment as she reached out and pressed her palm briefly against Cavan's powerful flank. The war-dog paid her little attention, focusing instead on his enemy. He charged forward once again, but this time, the war-dog's form shifted slightly. Surrounded by a golden nimbus of energy, Cavan's muscles rippled and swelled, its body elongated and thickened-until at last it stood even larger than his snow tiger opponent.
"Roberc," Marissa shouted over the incensed roar of the incorporeal beast, "help Borovazk and Taenaran take down the witch. I'll stay with Cavan."
The halfling glanced over at his spell-enhanced mount and flashed Marissa a wicked grin. "I. Live. To. Serve," he said, sucking in great lungfuls of air between each word. He lunged forward with his sword one more time, drawing blood from the tiger with a wicked thrust of his blade then shifted to his left, allowing Cavan to take on the full brunt of the snow tiger's attack. Without another word, the diminutive fighter joined the others as they advanced on the witch.
Judging by the rippling black mass of energy that pulsated before the ancient crone, Marissa wondered whether it was too late.
Taen could sense the arcane power building in the cavern. It hung in the air, pressing down on his inner vision, threatening to envelop him like a thick funereal pall. To his left, Cavan and the ghostly snow tiger were engaged in a grisly dance. Tooth and claw shredded fur and tore through skin as the two beasts raged and spat in a tangle of violence. For now, the spell-enlarged war-dog was holding his own against the fearsome tiger. With Marissa standing a few feet behind to administer divine aid and healing, the half-elf knew he could focus on their true enemy.
He advanced slowly, with Borovazk and Roberc slightly behind and to either side. Taen's sword pulsed dully in time to the Song that beat within his own breast. He shifted his grip on it slightly as he opened himself more fully to the melody that rose within him. The crone who ruled Citadel Rashemar disguised as a hag still held her gnarled hands above her head, pouring vile energy into a growing web of darkness that pulsated before her. Now that he could concentrate completely upon the ancient witch, it took the half-elf only a moment to realize the true danger they now faced. The blasphemous syllables vomited forth by the spellcasting witch were disturbingly familiar, echoes of an infernal tongue Taen had studied years before.
The half-elf cursed himself for a fool as he broke rank and charged the crone, hoping to reach her before the portal fully opened. "Hurry," he shouted to his companions, "she summons a demon!"
Jagged stalagmites and sloping stone slowed down Taen's hasty advance. Several times, he nearly lost his balance as he stumbled across the cavern floor. He was within striking distance of the renegade hathran when the mass of roiling darkness snapped open, like the lidless eye of a crazed giant awakened suddenly from a nightmare. A blast of pure hellfire spewed forth from the open portal, nearly knocking Taen off his feet. He struggled to keep his balance as a wicked claw as long as a scythe tore through the air to strike the ground where he would have fallen.
A second blast of hellfire shook the cavern before the portal disappeared with a sudden hiss of air, like the great rushing sound of a dragon inhaling before it unleashes its breath. Taen blanched as he saw the demonic being fully revealed by the light of the cavern's flickering torches.
The creature stood nearly eight feet tall, its grotesque body resembling an amalgam of bird and demon. Thick-feathered wings, extending out into the cavern from its broad back, beat listlessly as the demon cast around the room with its twisted eaglelike head. Twin circles of fire burned from behind the beast's large eyes. As Taen and the others drew nearer, it gestured once with a clawed hand. The air rippled for a moment as a wicked sword, complete with twin serrated edges, appeared in one of its hands.