While the demon unaccountably watched, but did nothing, the priest forced Kethry back against the wall. As bolts of force crashed against the shield she'd hastily thrown up, Kethry had firsthand proof that his magics had been augmented by the demon. Even so, she was the more powerful magician -- but she was being forced to divide her attentions.
Warrl solved the problem; the priest-mage was not expecting a physical attack. Warrl's charge from the side brought him down, and in moments the kyree had torn out his throat. That left Kethry free to erect a magical barrier between themselves and reinforcements for the guards they were cutting down. She breathed a prayer of thanks to whatever power might be listening as she did so -- thanks that the past few months had required so little of her talents that her arcane armaments and energy reserves were at their height.
Tarma grinned maliciously as a wall of fire sprang up at Kethry's command, cutting them off from the rest of the temple. Now there were only two acolytes, the remaining handful of guards, and the oddly inactive demon to face.
"Hold."
The voice was quiet, yet stirred uneasiness in Tarma's stomach. She tried to move -- and found that she couldn't. The guards were utterly motionless, as lifeless as statues. Only the acolytes were able to move, and all their attention was on the demon.
His gaze was bent on Kethry.
Tarma heard a rumbling snarl from behind the altar. Before she could try to prevent him, Warrl leaped from the body of the high priest in a suicidal attack on the demon.
Thalhkarsh did not even glance in the kyree's direction; he intercepted Warrl's attack with a seemingly negligent backhanded slap. The kyree yelped as the hand caught him and sent him crashing into the wall behind Tarma, limp and silent.
"Woman, I could use you." The demon's voice was low and persuasive. "Your knowledge is great, the power you command formidable, and you have infinitely more sense than that poor fool your familiar killed. I could make you a queen among magicians. I would make you my consort."
Tarma fumed in impotence as the demon reached for her oathkin.
Kethry's mind bent beneath the weight of the demon's attentions. It was incredibly difficult to think clearly; all her thoughts seemed washed out in the red glare of his gaze. Her enchantments to counter beguilement seemed as thin as silk veils, and about as protective.
"You think me cruel, evil. Yet what ever have I done save to give each of these people what he wants? The women have but to see me to desire me; the men lust for what women I do not care to take -- all my worshipers want power. All these things I have given in exchange for worship. Surely that is fair, is it not? It would be cruelty to withhold these things, not cruelty to bestow them."
His voice was reasoned and persuasive. Kethry found herself wavering from what she had until now thought to be the truth.
"Is it the bonds with that scrap of steel that trouble you? Fear not -- it would be the work of a single thought to break them. And think of the knowledge that would be yours in the place at my side! Think of the power..."
His eyes glowed yet more brightly and seductively, and they filled her vision.
"Think of the pleasure..."
Pain lancing across her thoughts woke her from the dreams called up by those eyes. She looked down at the blood trickling along her right hand -- she'd clenched it around the bare blade of her sword with enough force to cut her palm. And with the pain came the return of independent thought. Even if everything he said were true, and not the usual truth-twisting demons found so easy, she was not free to follow her own will.
There were other, older promises that bound her. There was the geas she had willingly taken with the fighting-gifts bestowed by Need, and the pledge she had made as a White Winds sorceress to use her powers for the greater good of mankind. And by no means least, there was the vow she had made before all of Liha'irden; pledging Tarma that one day she would take a mate (or mates) and raise a clutch of children to bear the banner and name of Tarma's lost Clan. Only death itself could keep her from fulfilling that vow. And it would kill Tarma should she violate it.
She stared back at the demon's inhuman eyes, defiance written in every fiber.
He flared with anger. "You are the more foolish, then!" he growled -- and backhanded her into the wall as casually as he had Warrl.
She was halfway expecting such a move, and managed to relax enough to take the blow limply. It felt rather like being hit with a battering ram, but the semiconsciousness she displayed as she slid into a heap was mostly feigned.
"You will find you have ample leisure to regret your defiance later!" he snarled in the same petulant tones as a thwarted spoiled child.
Now he turned his attentions to Tarma.
"So -- the nomad -- "
Tarma did her best to simulate a fascination with the demon that she did not in the least feel.
"It seems that I must needs petition the swordswoman. Well enough, it may be that you are even more suitable than your foolish companion."
The heat of his gaze was easily dissipated by the cool armoring of her Goddess that sheathed Tarma's heart and soul. There simply was nothing there for the demon to work on; the sensual, emotional parts of her nature had been subsumed into devotion to the Warrior when Tarma had Sworn Sword-Oath. But he couldn't know that -- or could he?
At any rate her attempt to counterfeit the same bemused rapture his brides had shown was apparently successful.
"You are no beauty; well, then -- look into my eyes, and see the face and body that might be yours as my priestess."
Tarma looked -- she dared not look away. His eyes turned mirrorlike; she saw herself reflected in them, then she saw herself change.
The lovely, lithe creature that gazed back at her was still recognizably Tarma -- but oh, the differences that a few simple changes made! This was a beauty that was a match for Thalhkarsh's own. For a scant second, Tarma allowed herself to be truly caught by that vision.
The demon felt her waver -- and in that moment of weakness, exerted his power on the bond that made her Kal'enedral.
And Tarma realized at that instant that Thalhkarsh was truly on the verge of attaining godlike powers, for she felt the bond weaken --
Thalhkarsh frowned at the unexpected resistance he encountered, then turned his full attention to breaking the stubborn strength of the bond.
And that changing of the focus of his attention in turn released Tarma from her entrapment. Not much -- but enough for her to act.
Tarma had resisted the demon with every ounce of stubbornness in her soul, augmenting the strength of the bond, but she wasn't blind to what was going on around her.
And to her horror she saw Kethry creeping up on the demon's back, a fierce and stubborn anger in her eyes.
Tarma knew that no blow the sorceress struck would do more than anger Thalhkarsh. She decided to yield the tiniest bit, timing her moment of weakness with care, waiting until the instant Need was poised to strike at the demon's unprotected back.