“This is my castle, these are my people. What, did you think I’d been idle all this while?” Little by little, Volmar felt self-confidence stealing back into him. Of course it had been illusion. “Once the boy and his misguided comrades are actually here, I have a few surprises of my own to spring on them. And I don’t believe,” the count added with dark humor, “that they will enjoy them.”
“Naitachal!”
Eliathanis raced to the fallen elf’s side, closely followed by the others. Kevin got there an instant before Lydia and the fluttering Tich’ki, dropping to his knees beside Naitachal’s still form. The White Elf glanced across at the bardling, green eyes wide. “I d-don’t think he’s breathing.”
“Oh no, that can’t be right, he has to be!”
Kevin hastily snatched up a dark wrist. For a panic-stricken, seemingly endless while, he couldn’t find any pulse at all.
Come on, come on, you can’t he dead, not now.
All at once the bardling felt ... yes. Kevin released Naitachal’s wrist with a sigh of relief. “He’s alive. I... think he’s just asleep. Deeply asleep. That sorcerous duel must really have worn him out.”
Eliathanis shuddered faintly. “Yes.” He straightened slowly, fussing with the set of his now sadly tattered cloak, plainly struggling to regain his composure. “Of course it did. I should have realized that.”
Well, what do you, know? Kevin stared at the White Elf in surprise. You really were worried about him!
Not that such revelations mattered right now. Kevin glanced doubtfully down at Naitachal. Sleeping like this on bare ground couldn’t be doing the Dark Elf any good. Particularly not on this ground. Everybody else seemed to be too battle-dazed to suggest anything, so the bardling said as firmly as he could:
“Eliathanis, why don’t you see if you can coax our mules back here?”
“Ah. Yes.”
“And, Lydia, can you help me lift Naitachal? The sooner we get him—and us—away from here, the better.”
“Right.”
For all his worry and ever-growing weariness, the bardling couldn’t help but feel a little thrill of wonder at the way they were obeying him without question.
Maybe I am o leader after all. Sort of, anyway, he added wryly. For now, anyhow.
Naitachal slept without stirring all during Eliathanis’ finally successful efforts to persuade the snorting, still-trembling mules to return. He slept during that entire day’s ride through field and forest, alternately supported in the saddle by Kevin, Lydia and Eliathanis—He continued to sleep while they set up camp for the night, lost in so deep and still a slumber that Kevin began to worry.
He’ll wake up soon enough. Of course he will.
But Naitachal continued to sleep. And at last Kevin’s worry grew to the point where the bardling couldn’t stand it any longer. Glancing uneasily at the others, he burst out with the question he suspected they were all thinking:
“What are we going to do if Naitachal doesn’t wake up?”
“He’ll wake.” Eliathanis, tending the campfire, didn’t sound quite sure about that.
“But what if he doesn’t?”
“He will,” Tich’ki said firmly. “Look, I’m the only other one of us who has any real magic, and believe me, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a magician overtax himself to-the point of collapse. There’s only so much strength in a body, you know.”
“Yes, but—”
“Very true.”
It was little more than a whisper, so unexpected a sound that they all started.
“Naitachal!”
“So I am.”
The Dark Elf sat up, very slowly and carefully, as though he wasn’t quite sure his body would obey him. Lydia made an abortive little move towards him, then stopped with a cautious, “How do you feel?”
“Like something dragged up by one of my own spells,” Naitachal admitted wryly.
“But you’ll be all right?” Eliathanis’ eyes were oddly wary.
“Indeed.”
This is ridiculous! This is Naitachal, the comrade who’s been riding with us all along. He hasn’t turned into a monster.
But even as he thought that, Kevin knew they were all a little leery of Naitachal now, this Dark Elf who had suddenly revealed himself as a fearful necromancer who could destroy a foe with one blast of sorcerous flame—
I will not be afraid of him!
After all, how could he forget how the Dark Elf had comforted him after he’d killed that bandit? Whatever else Naitachal might be, that hadn’t been the act of a cruel being, or an evil one.
The bardling deliberately moved to the Dark Elf’s side, and received a faint smile in return.
“That was a marvelously clever thing you did, Kevin, hurling the rock at the sorcerer to break his concentration.”
“Oh, well. It was the only thing I could think to do.” The bardling couldn’t stop himself from adding in a rush, “Even if I didn’t expect what was going to happen after that.”
“Don’t shed any tears for him.” Naitachal’s voice was suddenly cold. “I touched his mind during our battle, and it was ... foul. The man had deliberately killed all goodness within himself, all hope of joy, deliberately turned himself into a being almost as empty as those poor dead ones he conjured. So it can be,” he added, almost reluctantly, “with many necromancers.”
“Not with you! Anyone who could enjoy being silly with those guards the way you did hasn’t given up on life!”
That earned him a chuckle. “No. I haven’t. Nor will I, Powers willing.” The Dark Elf paused, eyes glinting. “He was strong, though, that stupid, evil man. So strong, with nothing but hatred left within him to drive him, with that hellish staff of his to aid him. Without your help, Kevin, I... don’t think I would have survived.”
He glanced at the bardling. “But the memory of that fire is still shocking you, isn’t it? Ha, yes, you others, it shocks you all.”
“Well, hell, yes!” Lydia exclaimed after a moment “I never thought you could—”
“1 didn’t. Not deliberately.”
“What do you mean? I saw what I saw!”
“You don’t understand.” Naitachal hesitated, then sighed. “I don’t know if I can put this so easily into human terms. Look you, our Power was trapped, his and mine, stalemated, each against each. What happens when a dam breaks?”
Lydia shrugged. “The water bursts free and—Oh.”
“Exactly. When his sorcery all at once gave way, mine —yes—burst free. Even I didn’t expect it to explode quite so fiercely, though. A pity it did,” Naitachal added grimly. “I meant only to stun the man.”
“In the name of all the Powers, why?”
The Dark Elf’s eyes glinted in the gloom. “Why do you think?”
Kevin straightened. “You don’t believe he was working on his own, do you?”
“Hardly. Even a necromancer such as that isn’t chaotic enough to attack at random.”
“Then ... do you think he was in Carlotta’s pay?”
“Something like that.” The Dark Elf stretched wearily. “But we seem to have drawn the lady’s fangs.”
At least for now, Kevin thought, and fought down a shudder. “I bet you’re hungry.”
A hint of returning humor danced in the Dark Elf’s eyes. “Ravenous. As, 1 would think, we all are. It’s been a ... shall we say ... rather strenuous day.”