Instead, Kamahl borrowed the spell that had kept him in Emerald's saddle even when upside down. Directing the spell at his feet, Kamahl made the soles of his boots as sticky as if they were covered in thick tree sap, then began moving across the bridge slowly as his boots stuck fast to the planks and had to be pulled free for each step.
As expected, Kamahl came under attack halfway across the chasm. From out of the sun, a huge hawk, easily the size of wolf, dived at the barbarian's face. Slamming his raised boot down to cement his footing on the bridge, Kamahl pulled out his sword and shot a burst of flame at the summoned bird, which dropped out of site, a blackened mass of feathers.
Two steps later, two more hawks dived at the barbarian. Although he blasted one, the second flew through the fire, past the charred remains of its brother, and opened up a long gash on Kamahl's shoulder before flying back up into the glare of the sun. Struggling to move as fast as possible before any more monstrous hawks could attack, Kamahl pulled hard on his sticky boots and made five more steps on his trek toward the chasm wall before the next attack.
This time, three more hawks joined the one that still had Kamahl's blood dripping from its claws.
"Fiers's blood!" raged the barbarian. "They're coming in too fast! I need to even the odds."
With that, Kamahl swept his sword in a circle over his head while muttering a few magical words. A moment later, red-hot coals began spewing from the tip of his sword, flying up into the air and falling like rain all around the frustrated barbarian, burning everything they touched.
Kamahl was happy to see the smoldering hulks of four birds plummet beneath the bridge. He was less happy to see the bridge ropes smoking and bursting into flames in several places from the heat of the coals that had fallen on them. Dispelling the enchantment on his boots, Kamahl sprinted toward the other side of the chasm, hoping to reach the end of the bridge before the ropes burned through.
Still several long strides from the edge of the cliff, Kamahl felt the bridge lurch under his feet as the ropes snapped behind him. As he dived forward toward safety, the final rope snapped and the bridge gave way beneath the barbarian. Coming up short on his final lunge, Kamahl's hands missed the edge of the cliff, and he began to fall. He jammed his sword into the cliff face, stopping his plunge, and hung there for a moment swinging underneath the lip of the chasm.
Using his momentum, Kamahl swung himself up and over the edge of the cliff landing roughly on his knees. Pulling his sword free, he popped to his feet, and whirled around to face his opponent.
"Your minions are vanquished!" he yelled at the mountain. "Do you dare face my blade?"
"As always," came the lilting, yet stern reply from the female warrior who stepped out from behind a rocky outcropping. When Kamahl saw the tall, lanky barbarian, her thick red hair tied into a bun around two ornate, iron hair pins, he dropped his sword tip down to the ground and stared. "As always."
Fortunately, the tension of the moment was broken by the unmistakable shouts of a very angry dwarf.
"That's enough!" yelled Balthor as he came down the path behind the female mage. "This Judgment is over. You've destroyed three whole sections of me course, ye daft barbarian. Ye call that control? Tomorrow we try meditation."
As Balthor stepped in between the two barbarians, he looked up at their faces and said, "What are you two staring at?"
"Well met, Jeska," said Kamahl.
"Well met, Brother," said Jeska.
"I have much to tell you," they said together.
CHAPTER 5
Even Treal's constant doting could not ease the tension Laquatas felt over having to once again deal with the foul dementia summoner, Braids. In fact, the stress was causing the mer's control over the simple Order soldier to slip, so he sent the sergeant out to guard the door to his quarters for the day. The problem was that Braids was so out of touch with the world from living in her own visions that he could not magically control or deceive her. But she had once held the Mirari-stolen it from Laquatas as Aboshan's palace fell into ruin in the northern seas-and that could be the key to controlling her now.
As the sun rose to its pinnacle in the sky, Laquatas's mirror began to buzz.
"Right on time," said the mer. "Is everything ready?" asked the ambassador into the mirror.
"Yes sire," came Talbot's response.
"Then show me the room, so that I may make my entrance." Laquatas watched as the scene in the mirror slowly spun around the small, dark room. A table with three chairs, walls lined with bookshelves, a couple braziers giving off precious little light but a great deal of smoke. Braids not yet in the room.
"Perfect. Now, hold the mirror, so I can see the chair beside you."
Laquatas sat in his own chair and placed the mirror on the table in front of him. He then raised both hands over his head, palms toward the ceiling. As he slowly lowered his arms, Laquatas turned his palms over to face the floor, closed his eyes, and concentrated.
When the ambassador opened his eyes, he was sitting next to Talbot in the dark, smoky room. He looked at Talbot who was about to put his mirror away.
"Keep the link open, Talbot. I need it to maintain this projection. Now, what is keeping that infernal dementia summoner?"
"She should be here momentarily, my lord," reassured Talbot. "I was told we would meet precisely at noon."
"1 doubt the crazy witch even knows whether it's day or night, let alone what time it is," replied the testy mer. We could be in for a long wait. Still, my body should be safe with Burke nearby and that idiot guard at the door."
Leaning his projection in toward Talbot, Laquatas whispered through his simulacrum at his assistant. "When she does arrive, let me speak. This will be delicate. Do not allow any hint of disbelief to cross your features. I may not be entirely truthful with her today, and I don't want her reading my lies in your reactions."
"Why do we whisper, my lord?" asked Talbot.
"I do not trust any of these Cabal mages," replied Laquatas, "least of all Braids or the First. They say he can scry anywhere on Otaria, and right now, if I were the First,
I would be scrying this room. Just because he doesn't want to speak to us doesn't mean he doesn't want to hear what we have to say."
At that moment, the door opened, and in walked Braids, backward. "Stay there, all of you!" she yelled through the door. "No, you can't come in with me, you'll scare the poor merfolk. No. Stay. Good boys."
Laquatas, who had a fine view through the door, could see nothing on the other side except a bare hallway.
"To whom do you speak, my fine friend?" he asked as Braids finally closed the door, continuing to back into the room until she reached the table.
"Just my pets," she replied as she spun around and sat down, all in one fluid movement.
"Dementia pets?" asked the mer.
"But of course," said Braids, smiling. "What other kind are there? They provide me with such fun, just as your pet did when we first met at that party so long ago. But I forgot, you lost that pet, didn't you. I'm so terribly sorry to bring up such a sad memory."
"Not to worry, dear lady," said Laquatas smiling through bared teeth. "Your friend Chainer provided me with a new pet, and I am quite happy with it."
"Wonderful! Perhaps our pets could play together some time."
"I would like that," replied Laquatas, glancing at Talbot and shrugging. "Now, perhaps we could get down to business."
"Yes," said Braids, suddenly staring at a point in space somewhere in between Talbot and Laquatas's image. "Your associate here said you had a proposition for the First."
Laquatas turned his head, trying to determine what Braids was staring at, and then turned back to the crazy dementia summoner, smiled broadly, and began his well-rehearsed presentation.