Diran saw Leontis shift into his hybrid wolf form and bounded toward the wereshark. The sea-based lycanthrope had slain the tomb spider-something Diran supposed they all should be grateful for-and was engaged in devouring the mutilated remains. Diran had been born and raised in the Principalities, and thus knew that sharks would eat virtually anything, but he had a difficult time believing anyone with even a shred of humanity in them would eat a tomb spider, let alone do so with such enthusiastic delight. In addition, tomb spiders were creatures suffused with negative energy, and Diran couldn't see how even a lycanthrope could ingest the horrid thing's meat without being affected somehow by that energy.
Diran shouted Leontis's name, in a vain attempt to call him back, but it was too late. The man was gone and only the werewolf remained. Leontis snarled as he threw himself upon the wereshark, and the lycanthropes began trying to kill each other, two predators that instinctively sensed and loathed a competitor.
Diran wished he could go to his friend's aid, but there was nothing he could do for Leontis right now. He spared a second to wonder where Makala was-he'd seen her transform into mist and attack the tomb spider, but he hadn't witnessed the outcome of her action. Either the spider had wounded her somehow or, more likely, Makala was still close by, either in mist or bat form. He'd vowed to free his former lover from the curse of undeath and undo the mistake he'd made by not slaying her the moment she awoke as a vampire. Hopefully, he'd get the chance to redeem himself soon… after Nathifa was stopped. The lich had to be dealt with before she could absorb even more of the magic in Paganus's hoard.
Diran turned to Tresslar and Solus. "Ready?"
The psiforged and the artificer nodded. Both held daggers given them by the priest, one in each hand. Diran held the same number.
"Throw!" Diran commanded, and the three companions tossed the daggers straight up into the air, without even attempting to aim them anywhere in particular. When the daggers reached the apex of their less-than-graceful flight, Solus grabbed hold of the blades telekinetically and sent them streaking toward the oversized eyeball hovering above Nathifa's head.
The guardian eye released a blast of necromantic energy at the six oncoming daggers, but the blades fanned out, and the ebon beam managed to deflect only one. The remaining five encircled the eye and began rotating rapidly around the living orb, moving with such blinding speed that Diran had a difficult time keeping track of the knives. The eye, moving just as swiftly as the blades, oriented on one after the other, blasting them out of the air with dark beams of mystic force. One blade, two… three… four…
At Solus's mental command, the last dagger curved away in the opposite direction from where the three companions stood. The eye tracked the blade, turning away from them as it prepared to deal with this final threat. As soon as the guardian eye faced the other direction and couldn't see them, Diran slipped another dagger out of its cloak sheath, aimed, and hurled the blade at the back of eye. As the eye blasted the last of the rotating blades, the new dagger plunged into it from behind, and the guardian orb exploded in a spray of blood and viscous fluid.
Nathifa cried out in pain and frustration, but she didn't allow her concentration to slacken. The lich continued absorbing magic into the Amahau, but now she had no guardian to protect her. Solus released control of the levitating daggers and the blades fell to the floor. There was no point in the psiforged driving them into the lich. The only way she could be killed was if the phylactery containing her lifeforce was discovered and destroyed. But if Diran could get close enough, he could use the power of the Silver Flame to repel her, giving Tresslar a chance to regain possession of his dragonwand.
The priest drew a silver dagger from his cloak and removed his arrowhead symbol from his vest pocket. He then turned to Solus and Tresslar.
"Be careful," he warned his companions. "Even diminished as Nathifa is by the loss of her arm and eye, she is still most powerful-all the more so because she possesses the dragonwand."
"I shall remember," Solus said.
"You take care of the lich," Tresslar said, a determined look on his face. "You let me worry about the Amahau."
Diran nodded, and together the three started toward the lich.
Nathifa was no stranger to mystic power, but she'd never experienced anything like the Amahau before. The sheer amount of magical energy that it could hold was astonishing. It had already drained a good portion of Paganus's hoard, and Nathifa could sense that it wasn't near to being full. How much magic could the dragonhead contain? With its power hers to command, she would be like unto a god herself. She could keep the artifact for herself, continue traveling throughout the Principalities and absorbing magic wherever she went. And when she finally had enough, she could travel to the Fingerbone Mountains and challenge Vol. With the power of the Amahau, she could defeat the Lich Queen, cast her down, and take her place on the throne of bones.
But Nathifa knew it was a foolish dream. She'd made a bargain with Prince Moren to get the supplies to repair the Zephyr, and the bill would come due soon-long before she could ever hope to acquire enough power to challenge Vol. Nathifa wondered if perhaps this wasn't how her Queen had planned it all along. Vol might well have sent the Ragestorm, and Prince Moren had answered her summons rather quickly. Perhaps he'd been waiting close by at Vol's command.
No matter, Nathifa decided. The die was cast, and events would play themselves out as they would. Let Vol's reign continue. As long as Nathifa finally had her vengeance on Kolbyr, she would be satisfied.
Though the bulk of her concentration was focused on controlling the Amahau, she was able to spare a fraction of her awareness to monitor the progress of the battle around her. Skarm writhed on the crypt floor, his barghest physiology doing its best to fight off the web spider's venom. Nathifa knew he was fighting a losing battle, though. The venom was simply too strong. Nathifa was pleased that Haaken had killed the web spider, but she was surprised to see the wereshark now fought with another lycanthrope. The lich had been aware that a werewolf numbered among Bastiaan's companions, and she couldn't conceive of a priest-especially one devoted to the Silver Flame-associating with such a monster. There was obviously more to that story than met the eye.
Nathifa saw no sign of Makala, and she wondered if the vampire had betrayed her and fled. Most likely not, Nathifa decided. Makala had many annoying qualities, but cowardice wasn't among them. Makala was probably lurking about somewhere, alert for an opportunity to turn the tide of battle in her favor.
She was pleased that the web mummies and her dark-eye were proving effective at keeping Bastiaan and his friends busy. If the priest and his companions could be held off for a few more moments, she'd be able to-
Pain blossomed in the empty socket where Nathifa's left eye had been, and the lich cried out, more in anger than in hurt. She didn't know how, since she was only subconsciously connected to the dark-eye, but she knew Bastiaan had somehow managed to destroy it. This knowledge was confirmed a split-second later when warm viscous fluid pattered down onto her head and shoulders.
Not now! I'm so close…
But Nathifa knew her time was up. Weakened as she was by the sacrifices of her arm and eye, she couldn't hope to stand against Bastiaan, especially not without the aid of her servants. Whatever power she had managed to drain into the Amahau would have to serve.