"So tell me again," Thormud asked Kiril from his seat ahead of her, "how old did you say your sword instructor was? Seven hundred?
That's old even for an elf, I hear."
Perversely, she decided not to give in to the geomancer's pestering with her usual stream of invectives. She merely grunted.
"And what about the human you were working for right before I employed you-he looked like he was ninety if he was a day. For humans, that's standing with one foot in the grave."
Kiril shrugged, knowing the dwarf couldn't see her. Her silence was answer enough. Another drop of water splashed into her left eye, and she roughly wiped it out.
"And me-I'm no dwarf lad in my first hundred. In fact, I'm probably in the last fifty years of my career."
"So?" Kiril finally asked.
"It's just that I wonder if you know anyone who isn't old."
Kiril grunted again. She said, "You know how I hate most people?"
"Yes…"
"I pick all my acquaintances old so they don't live long."
Thormud paused for a moment, then, "Ho ho! I've discovered my companion has secret aspirations to entertain, after all these years!
She's bitter, no doubt about it, but witty, too."
"Why don't we pass the time with you telling me about all the different layers of sediment below us, like usual?" asked Kiril. "That way, you get to yammer on and on about something you care about, and I get a nap."
"That's more like the elf I know."
Kiril restrained herself from reaching forward and throttling the dwarf's thick neck. Instead she said, "Let's rest. You said we might reach Adama's Tooth tonight. My muscles are all cramped with the cold.
I can protect you better if I can get the blood moving in my arms and legs again. If we face any more of the creatures like we fought a few nights ago…"
Thormud made several gravelly noises as if he were gargling pebbles. He was speaking Terran, commanding the stone destrier. The great creature's pace slackened to a trot, a walk, then ceased. It squatted down, allowing its riders easy egress.
Kiril stood and nearly slipped on the rain-soaked stone of the destrier's back. Thormud, despite his graceless manner, walked sure-footed off the destrier to the ground below. Anytime the geomancer walked on stone or earth, his footing was assured. He carried an earthlamp, whose normally warm glow was rendered pale and cheerless in the sleet. Xet rode on the dwarf's shoulder, unconcerned with the endless spray.
Thormud looked around the desolate landscape-what was visible through the mist-and said, "You broach an excellent point. That which faced us earlier was potent. I think it's time I call in a few favors for additional aid."
"Favors?"
"The elemental lords of the earth may hear my entreaty, and may respond with aid."
"Calling in the big swords, eh? Good idea."
The dwarf went about his preparations, which to Kiril looked identical to the preparations Thormud made before every geomantic endeavor. In other words, utterly monotonous. But what else was there to do?
First Thormud used the butt of his selenite rod to scratch an intricate circle into the earth. Then he poured colored powders into the four outer quadrants of the circle-red, blue, white, and brown-and finally black and white at the center, in a commingled pile. He had once told her that the powders represented the elements, but she had always believed only four elements built all of reality. Fearful of an overlong explanation, Kiril never asked why he used six colors.
Next the dwarf usually began mumbling in Terran. Not this time, Kiril noticed. Instead, he reached into his robe and brought forth a small package wrapped in leather. The package looked suspiciously familiar.
Kiril stopped her pacing and cleared her throat, trying to get the dwarf's attention. No luck-or he was ignoring her.
At the center of his circle, the dwarf unwrapped the package and revealed the purple crystal within. It was the remnant of the creature they had faced down a few nights ago.
"Thormud, you phlegm-brained flea haven, what are you doing with that?"
The dwarf, accustomed to Kiril's cursing, had the grace to look somewhat guilty as he said, "If I'm going to entreat the elemental lords of the earth for aid, I need to show them exactly the sort of threat I'm anticipating. Don't worry, I'm not going to…"
The crystal in Thormud's hand suddenly blinked on, shedding a haunting purple glow over the misty ground.
"Blood!" swore Kiril. "Cover it, or break it!"
The dwarf hurled the crystal away. It flew thirty or so feet and shattered on a rock. Its light stuttered and failed.
For a few heartbeats, Kiril gazed intently at the point where the crystal had shattered, waiting for any repercussions. She already clutched her long elven dagger in one hand. Nothing. Nothing in that instant, anyway.
The swordswoman turned her head to curse Thormud. But the geomancer was already involved in a new summons-he was lying stretched out in the center of his circle, mumbling. He'd better hide! It wouldn't save him from the tongue-lashing that brewed within her. The dwarf was the one who instructed her to keep that crystal covered!
Slight tremors and groaning rock gave signals that Thormud's summoning ceremony was working. He was calling something big up from the earth, Kiril judged.
A crack and flash snagged her attention back to where the crystal had shattered.
"Stuff it!" she swore, eyes wildly scanning for the source of the noise and light. Nothing-just darkness. She didn't believe it.
Something had looked out through that crystal when the dwarf had stupidly uncovered it so close to their goal. And like last time, something had been sent back to deal with the curious geomancer.
Whatever it was, it would be dangerous.
She walked slowly forward, dagger in one hand, her other hand poised to grab Angul. The sleet continued unabated, and the hollow tightness waking in her belly intensified the cold.
Another few steps… she paused. Kiril was moving too far beyond the light of the dwarf's lamp. If something had found them, its view of her, silhouetted against the light, made her a perfect target.
Great.
"I'm going to feed that dwarf his rod," Kiril promised aloud. She wove the dagger around, keeping it moving and fluid, but felt foolish without seeing a target to intimidate with her blade work.
She wondered, again, if she should acquire an enchanted blade in addition to Angul. A capable sword with no agenda.
Her dagger seemed so insufficient these days.
Yeah, no more stinking debate. Next time the opportunity arose, she'd procure something-maybe a flaming sword, or a starblade like Nangulis wielded before he'd sacrificed himself…
Something blurred out of the darkness toward her. She stabbed the dagger wildly, hitting a greenish shoulder as it smashed into her gut.
A massive foot slammed down on the instep of her left leg, trapping her foot. She tipped over like a felled tree and lost her grip on the dagger, which still jutted from her attacker's shoulder.
Standing over her, its right foot still pinning her left, stood a massive, demonic humanoid. It was almost twice her height! Green skin glistened under black leather armor, and a pair of short ivory horns protruded from its forehead. A jagged splinter of purplish crystal protruded from its chest. Half-dried blood slicked the armor around the wound where the crystal protruded. The crystal flashed, pulsing violet light into the rain-soaked night.
It growled and ground her trapped foot painfully into the dirt with its tremendous weight.
Her right hand fumbled at Angul's sheath. The creature kicked with its other leg, connecting with her hand as she grasped at Angul's hilt.