The gorthling began to edge warily into the temple, his cruel eyes fastened on Gabria and her mount.
The sorceress stared at him implacably and made no move to attack. She had only one idea for what she would do with the lightning. If that did not work, she would not have a chance to try anything else. She sat still on Nara, feeling the powerful heat of the Hunnuli warm her legs; her fingers touched the jagged white mark on Nara’s shoulder.
As it had in Pra Desh when Gabria had fought the fire consuming the palace, the magic around the sorceress was intensifying with the power of the storm. She knew the enhanced power would help her, but it could also aid the gorthling. Quickly and precisely she began to form her spell in her mind, waiting for the right moment to strike.
The gorthling stepped between two stone pillars. “Valorian was wrong, Sorceress,” he hissed. “Nothing can send me back. Get ready to die!”
Gabria did not reply. Lightning flashed overhead, and she felt the split-second surge of power in the air. Lightning happened so fast, she would have to act instinctively. Branth took another step forward and raised his hands to the sky.
Gabria! Nara cried in the woman’s mind and leaped sideways not a moment too soon. A sizzling bolt of Trymian Force slammed down on the spot where they had been standing.
The gorthling was using the intensified magic to his full advantage.
Gabria threw herself to the right as another of the gorthling’s bolts seared past her. Another blast and another. They were so fast, hot, and deadly that Gabria could not concentrate on her own spell; it took her full attention to dodge the wicked bolts. The sorceress did not dare form a defense shield for fear of using too much of her depleted strength. She could only rely on the agility and protection of her mount.
Big drops of rain spattered on the warm rocks nearby. A lightning streak exploded on a tree across the river near the Jehanan camp, followed instantly by a deafening clap of thunder. The storm was moving, and Gabria knew she only had a brief time before the lightning was too far away. Yet the moment to attack was still not right.
The gorthling fired another bolt at her. It struck the ground at Nara’s feet, shattering the rocks and sending gravel and splinters flying. The mare reared away, her motion nearly unseating Gabria.
The gorthling began to laugh, a rude, wicked sound that reflected his arrogance. The sorceress would never destroy him, for in a moment she would be dead.
Frantically Gabria struggled to regain her balance. She saw the gorthling draw his hands back. At the same time, a tingling skittered across her skin and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. She felt more than saw the power that surged around her, concentrating its energy on the tallest stone pillar near the altar to her right. This was even better than she had hoped for. The woman closed her mind to all but her spell and let her instincts guide her.
Lightning struck the top of the great stone monolith, its incredible energy searing the very air. The gorthling flinched away, but Gabria put her trust in the natural protective powers of the Hunnuli and reached out for the streaking energy.
In one fluid movement, she snared the lightning bolt and wrenched it from its natural path into her hand. She felt the incredible power surge through every fiber, bone, and hair of both her body and Nara’s, and she saw the mare glimmer with a greenish white glow. Surprisingly the bolt felt warm and soft in Gabria’s hand. She swung around and threw the lightning like a javelin, using every bit of strength she had left.
The blue-white bolt split the air to the gorthling and struck his body in a blinding explosion of light, sparks, and heat.
Gabria’s vision went black and red with pain. She heard the gorthling’s high-pitched screech of despair and hatred, followed by a tremendous crash of thunder. At that same instant, the backlash of the lightning’s energy slammed into her and Nara. The Hunnuli staggered under the explosive force, and Gabria was flung to the wet, cold ground.
20
The sound of thunder faded from Gabria’s ears, and she became aware of a persistent, needle-sharp pain behind her eyes. It brought her out of her state of shock and back to reality. She opened her eyes for just a moment and saw nothing but blackness and red shooting streaks. A tremor fluttered in her chest. She was blind!
She forced down her terror and concentrated instead on a small, calm voice that was speaking softly near her ear. The voice was unfamiliar, but something about its gentle tone was soothing.
“Tam?” she whispered out of the dark. She tried to sit up, but every bone and muscle in her body sent up a painful protest.
The quiet voice replied with intense relief. “Yes, Lady, I am here. No! Don’t move yet. Help is coming.”
Gabria obeyed willingly. She lay still on the cold, hard ground and felt the rain pounding on her body. Tam had to be shielding her face, but Gabria could not see.
The sorceress reached out for the girl’s hand. “Tam, where is the gorthling?”
“He’s gone,” Tam answered excitedly. “The lightning you threw disintegrated him! There isn’t even a finger left.”
Gabria could not help but smile. Tam had certainly found her tongue in the midst of all the chaos.
Another person joined them, and a familiar voice said, “Gabria, let me help you.” The clan priestess of Amara wrapped a warm cloak around the sorceress and very carefully eased her to a sitting position. “Can you stand?” the priestess asked.
Gabria swallowed hard and shook her head. Pain and nausea coursed through her head and her stomach. Every muscle she had was trembling. She felt as weak and blind as a newborn kitten.
“Never mind. Sit here a moment,” the priestess told her. “I will tend to the others.”
Gabria heard her walk toward the place where Athlone had fallen. Nara came to stand upwind of the sorceress to block some of the wild wind and rain that lashed across the island. Tam still held her cloak over Gabria’s head.
“Nara, are Athlone and Sayyed badly hurt?”
They are exhausted, but will recover, I believe.
Gabria turned her sightless eyes toward the mare. “Your thoughts are strained. You sound weary. Are you all right?”
I am very weak. The strength needed to protect us from the lightning was almost more than I had.
The woman reached out and felt the mare’s strong foreleg. “Thank you, Nara.”
The mare nickered like a gentle laugh. It was a good battle. The gorthling is gone, and we are still here.
Gabria sighed. “What is going on out there? Is a healer coming to help Athlone and Sayyed? Afer’s leg is broken. Is anyone coming to help him?”
Tam answered, her young voice high with anger. “The priests and priestesses will not allow any more uninitiated onto the island, but they won’t cross the river themselves to help. Only the priestess of Amara from your clan had the courage to come.”
Gabria’s anger stirred sluggishly in her thoughts. She and her companions had faced death to save the clans, but now that they needed help, the people would not even come to their aid. Her nausea faded a little, and she sat up straighter, stirred by resentment.
Before she could think of a suitable angry response, an image of what she had done came to her mind. Her anger retreated while she considered how the entire arcane battle must have looked from the clans’ point of view. They were probably terrified out of their wits.
Gabria realized she had an excellent opportunity to make a positive impression on her stubborn, skeptical, suspicious people. They had seen the horror of the gorthling’s cruelty and the terror of his magic. Now she could show them the other side of magic: the pleasure of victory and the comfort of healing.