Then there was only Sosfane. Ember knew that her friends still fought all around her, but it was the cult leader who represented the real threat.
She called out, "Are you afraid to face me, witch?"
The silver-haired woman smiled as she said, "You are a prodigy of my old Order and Kairoth's student. I'll enjoy killing you."
The sentence was barely complete when Sosfane leaped a dozen feet through the air like a bolt launched from a crossbow. A lethal high kick was aimed directly at Ember's chest. It would have struck her down if not for Loku's Bracers, which of their own accord, lifted Ember's arm and deflected the attack! Ember looked into her foe's eyes from a distance of barely a pace.
"Your order? The Enabled Hand never trained a foul creature like you!"
Ember kicked twice; both attacks were met by the woman's flashing wrists.
Sosfane lauughed and said, "I was a star pupil! Kairoth himself taught me the Order's most guarded techniques. The old fool didn't know I was also learning the secrets of the death god, Nerull! I reopened this temple years ago. Since then, I've been bending members of the Hand to Nerull's will, a few at a time. Some had to be forced, but not all. You would be surprised at how many were keen to join."
As she spoke, her hand crept into her sash. It lashed forth holding a small kama, its daggerlike blade tipped with a reddish liquid.
She jabbed at Ember, but the monk flipped back and kicked the kama from the tattooed woman's hand. It clattered to the ground, far out of reach.
Breathing hard, Ember exclaimed, "No one by the name of Sosfane was ever trained in the Order!"
"Adeva Silverhair was the name I used," said the woman, raining a flurry of blows on Ember. "But I am Sosfane, a disciple of the death god. "And when I've killed you," she gloated, "I shall feast on your flesh, in Nerull's name!"
They were upon each other again, trading blows, kicks, blocks, and throws too swiftly for any eye to follow. Training and instinct guided their hands and feet.
Ember stood toe to toe with her nemesis, and she knew Sosfane was beating her. Despite all her skill and noble purpose, Sosfane was simply more excellent. She was not really hurting Ember, yet.
Both knew the forms, the attacks, and the defenses. When Ember struck with shi kune, the stunning fist, Sosfane countered with makee, the blocking fist. Ember's yup ju mok, the hammer fist, was defeated by Sosfane's pal moke makeei, the outer forearm block. Ember could find no way past Sosfane's defenses, and her own were likewise impenetrable. But Ember was growing tired. She had already fought seven men before facing Sosfane.
Again they drew apart for a heartbeat.
Sosfane said, "You are a high student of the Order, but your skills are stagnant. Nerull could teach you more…as he taught me."
Sosfane seemed to levitate into the air for a moment. Ember gasped-it was soo jik so gee, the vertical stance! This was far beyond her own skill-maybe even beyond Elder Kairoth's.
Sosfane unfolded from her superior aerial position, striking out with the side of her foot like a tornado brushing the ground. Unable to block, Ember took the full force of the blow. She tumbled and fell, feeling crippling pain shoot through her.
If there was ever a time for a hero, she thought, that time was now. Ember slipped a hand into her tunic and pulled out the vial she purchased at the Wizard's Hoard. She pulled the stopper with her teeth and gulped down the magical elixir.
At the liquid's first touch on her tongue, confidence coursed through her limbs and renewed strength pulsed in her hands. The sensation of power exceeded anything she could have imagined! She noticed that even Loku's Bracers pulsed with white light, in tune to her heartbeat. Somehow, the bracers were enhancing the effect of the elixir, and vice versa.
She slowly stood, and said, "Let's begin again."
Sosfane obliged.
Aganon was faster than Hennet. A blast of jagged light issued from the tip of his wand, searing toward Hennet with electrical fingers. Hennet held forth the Golden Wand. Its yellow glow intensified. With a clap like thunder, the golden light absorbed Aganon's electrical bolt. The wand sizzled and sparked in Hennet's hand, filled to capacity with its meal-tiny jolts of electricity discharged, stinging the sorcerer's hand. Hennet was thrilled.
He bore the pain from the sparks with a smile. After all, without his trophy, Aganon's first bolt might have simply killed him. Hennet could feel the force of the lightning bolt trapped within his wand. It raged like a caged beast, straining to break free.
Hennet mentally grasped that energy, molding and shaping it. This was not something he could normally do, he knew, but a power granted by the wand. When it was ready seconds later, he flicked it back at Aganon. This time, a golden beam of energy flowed between the two mages. Aganon tried to dodge, but a splash of golden fire enveloped him. He cried out in pain. Smoke rose from his clothing and his skin was charred, but he stood.
Hennet said, "Yield, or I'll burn you to a cinder!"
Brek looked wildly around for the abyssal child. Had it fled? He couldn't find it. Then his eyes fell on Nebin's body. When his attention was focused on the monk, the creature had decided to indulge its hunger on Nebin's defenseless form. Brek could easily see the slug's trail of slime on the floor. It pulled itself upright over Nebin and prepared to douse him with its digestive slime.
That's when Brek Gorunn threw himself bodily on the fiend, screaming, "Back to the Abyss with you, demon!"
The weight of the dwarf's body slammed the slug down and immediately dislodged it from the gnome. Brek grappled the rubbery flesh that burned his skin wherever they touched. The pair rolled away from the gnome, over and over. The creature screamed and spat its acid, but not a drop touched Nebin.
Brek Gorunn had saved Nebin's life. The dwarf took consolation in that knowledge as he rolled the demon farther from the gnome, as its acid burned away one of his hands, leaving a smoldering stump of liquid agony. With the one hand that remained to him, Brek strangled the horrid life from the demon's retching, shrieking, child's face-a life for a life, he grimaced.
Let Moradin be merciful when we meet.
Like all disciples of Sosfane, Aganon was accustomed to pain, but the blast from the Golden Wand hurt! He brought up his wand once more with shaking hands, then thought better of it. Up to that point he'd imagined the Golden Wand to be little more than a trinket. The realization that it was an item of real power unnerved him and left him badly hurt in the bargain.
He looked to Sosfane-she hammered Ember to the floor with an incredible aerial kick. It was only a matter of time before Sosfane crushed the Enabled Hand monk. If he ran from the conflict, Sosfane would find him and he would pay for his cowardice. That thought decided him; death here would be easier to endure.
Again Aganon discharged his wand. Searing lightning struck at Hennet. The sorcerer stood unflinching, as a mountain's summit weathers an electrical storm. This time, however, Hennet swung his wand like a club. When the wand struck Aganon's sizzling bolt, it reversed and streaked back at its caster.
This isn't fair, Aganon thought as the electricity tore into him.
His teeth sparked and his eyes burst. Through the pain, a vision of a skeletal hand appeared in his mind, reaching for him. He would have screamed, but the Reaper had his soul.