Fury roared through her like a firestorm, and she vowed that whatever else happened, she would not die this day, absorbed into a disgusting mass of flesh. If nothing else, she’d survive to make certain that Rhedyn paid for his betrayal of the Outguard-and for betraying her.
The thing the white-eyes had merged into had continued pulling Lirra and the others toward it while Elidyr, Sinnoch, and Rhedyn rode off, and they were within three yards of the main mass. At this rate, Lirra judged they had a minute at most before they were pulled into the pile of flesh, and what would happen then? Would their own flesh and bones liquefy as they became part of the creature? Or would they merely suffocate as their air was cut off? The warforged would likely survive in either event, but the rest of them would not. Lirra thought furiously, determined not to die before she could have her vengeance. She found herself remembering a lesson her father had taught her long ago, when she was a child learning to spar with a wooden practice sword.
“Every opponent has a weakness,” he’d told her. “The trick is figuring out what it is in time to do you any good.”
Assuming this creature had a weakness, what could it possibly be? And how could they exploit it in the few seconds remaining to them? Lirra rapidly went over what she knew about the monstrous conglomerate. It was comprised of the bodies of people whom Elidyr had reshaped into mindless, supernaturally strong servants. He’d transformed them using powers granted to him by a daelkyr lord, powers that originated in Xoriat, the Realm of Madness. She didn’t know if those powers were, strickly speaking, evil, at least in a metaphysical sense, but they seemed close enough to her. And if they were based in evil, that meant …
“Ksana!” she called out.
Though Lirra couldn’t see every member of the Outguard, for the fleshy mass of the creature stood before her and some of the others, she could still see the cleric. The woman was off to her left, and Lirra was glad to see she’d managed to retain hold of her halberd.
The half-elf’s face was scrunched in concentration as she hacked at the tentacle encircling her waist with her halberd, but whatever damage she inflicted healed before she could strike again.
“What?” Ksana called back, not pausing in her attack on the tentacle that gripped her.
“Do you remember what you did at the Battle of Corran Ridge?”
At first Ksana looked at Lirra without comprehension, but then awareness slowly filtered into her gaze. “But that was an entirely different situation! The creature they sent at us was a battalion of Karrnathi zombies that had been abducted and merged into a single massive creature! This thing isn’t undead! I don’t know if I can-”
“It’s evil, isn’t it? Besides, whatever the damned thing is, it’s going to be the death of us in less than a minute if someone doesn’t do something!”
Lirra thought the cleric was going to protest further, but instead she nodded and then turned to face the conglomerate creature. Her expression grew placid, almost serene, and Lirra knew she was preparing her spirit for what was to come. And then Ksana gripped her halberd tight and stopped resisting the pull of the fleshy mass that had been the white-eyes. Instead she ran toward it, her halberd blazing with bright light as the cleric channeled the power of her goddess-the power of the sun-into her weapon. When the half-elf reached the main mass of the creature, she raised her halberd high and cried out, “In the name of Dol Arrah, I command you to begone, foul thing!”
And Ksana brought the halberd down upon the creature with all of her might, burying the axe head into its pulpy flesh.
Dazzling light burst forth from the wound Ksana made, and though the creature possessed no mouth, Lirra heard its death cry in her mind, accompanied by a pain like someone had jammed a white-hot dagger blade into one ear and out the other. But there was another voice within her mind. Voices, actually. Men, women, and children, all of them saying the same thing: Thank you.
And then the conglomerate creature exploded like an overripe melon, and a putrid, viscous slime gushed onto the street. The tentacles gripping Lirra and the others fell limp and collapsed to the ground, releasing them. The Outguard soldiers didn’t stand around once they were free though. They rushed forward and began hacking away at the creature’s remains with their swords, just to make sure the damned thing was dead. Lirra wasn’t concerned about the creature anymore. She was worried about Ksana. The cleric, now that her work was done, staggered back from the remains of the creature, dragging her halberd because she was too weak to lift it. Her face was pale, her eyes unfocused, and Lirra knew Ksana was on the verge of collapse. The same thing had happened at Corran’s Ridge, and Lirra remembered how Ksana had explained it to her afterward.
“I don’t perform miracles, child. Dol Arrah does. I’m just the tool she uses to work her will in the world. But while my goddess has no limitations, the same can’t be said about her servants. We are a vessel for Dol Arrah’s holy might, but a mortal body can only channel so much divine power without sustaining damage. Stopping that undead monstrosity was nearly the death of me. I hope the goddess never calls on me to do anything like that again-at least, not anytime soon!”
Lirra saw her father heading for Ksana as well. No doubt he remembered what had happened at Corran’s Ridge as well as Lirra did. After all, the general had been in command that day.
Ksana’s legs began to buckle. Lirra flicked her left arm, and the tentacle whip sailed toward Ksana and wrapped around the cleric’s midsection just in time to prevent her falling. Ksana’s body went limp as she lost consciousness, but the symbiont held her upright. Shock showed on Vaddon’s face, only to be quickly replaced by outrage.
Lirra and her father made it to Ksana at the same time. The general started to reach toward the cleric, but then he fixed his gaze upon the tentacle whip and withdrew his hands. He then looked at his daughter, fury blazing in his eyes.
“How dare you touch a holy woman with that unclean thing!” Vaddon said. “Remove it at once!”
Lirra was hurt by her father’s tone and the expression of loathing on his face.
“I’ll withdraw the symbiont,” she said. “Just make sure you’re ready to catch Ksana when I do.”
Vaddon nodded. Lirra commanded the tentacle whip to release the cleric, and the symbiont slowly unwrapped itself from around the half-elf’s waist. Vaddon was ready, and he easily caught the cleric’s slight frame with his armored hands. He cradled her in his arms as if she were a child as the tentacle whip coiled around Lirra’s left arm once more and lay still. Evidently the symbiont’s lust for violence had been sated, at least for the time being.
Vaddon looked at her, his expression difficult to read. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again, as if thinking better of it, and turned his attention away from Lirra to check on Ksana.
Lirra looked away from her father to examine the aftermath of the battle. The people of Geirrid, who’d wisely remained hidden during the struggle with the conglomerate beast, poked their heads out of doorways and windows to see if it was safe to go back outside. The Outguard soldiers had finished carving up the creature’s remains, and they were using its tentacles to haul the larger chunks into the gutter so they’d be out of the way. Garrison soldiers would be dispatched later to clear away the mess, although Lirra didn’t know if there would be anything for them to clean up. The creature’s flesh was beginning to liquefy at a fairly rapid rate, and Lirra wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t anything left before long. Ranja had assumed her fully human form once more, and she grumbled to herself as she scraped her boots against the street curb to get the viscous muck off them.