A moment passed without any sign that Diran's efforts were having any effect. And then Asenka's eyes flew open wide and she drew in a gasping breath of air. Diran opened his own eyes and gazed down upon her face with tender concern.
"Asenka?" he said gently. "Can you hear me?"
Blood bubbled past her lips as she struggled to speak. "Diran? I… I…"
And then a gout of dark blood sprayed from Asenka's mouth as she screamed. Her body stiffened as if her skeleton were trying to tear free from the flesh that trapped it, and then she fell still. Her eyes remained open, but they were glassy and empty, and Ghaji knew she was dead.
Diran, still holding Asenka's hand, gazed down upon his lover's slack features and staring eyes without comprehension at first. And then he turned her hand over to reveal a purple-black welt the size of a bird's egg.
Tears flowed down Diran's face, and when he spoke his tone was detached and devoid of emotion.
"The tomb spider and its progeny are creatures of negative energy. Once injected into a victim, their venom causes healing magic to have the opposite effect. Instead of repairing injury and restoring health it…" He took in a shuddering breath before going on. "Asenka must have been bitten by a spiderling, and though the amount of venom injected into her body was slight, the rest of her injures were so severe that when my healing magic interacted with the venom…" He trailed off, but there was no need to complete the thought. It was clear enough. Asenka had been on the edge of death, and Diran's attempt to heal her had, thanks to the poison of the tomb spider, killed her.
Asenka was gone.
Ghaji wanted to say something, anything, to comfort his friend, but no words came to him. All he could do was step forward and lay a hand on the priest's shoulder. Diran didn't seem to notice. He just continued staring at Asenka's face.
No one spoke for several moments, and then a scuttling sound broke the silence. The companions turned to see that Skarm was using a single clawed hand to pull himself toward the crypt entrance. But the wounded barghest was too weak to do more than scratch his nails against the stone floor.
Diran's tears stopped as if a switch had been thrown somewhere inside him. He gently lay Asenka's hand down and rose to his feet. He walked over and briefly knelt by Leontis' side, then after a quick examination, he stood once more.
"Leontis should make a full recovery," Diran said, his voice more toneless than that of a warforged. "Even now his curse is working to repair his wounds."
Ghaji had to repress a shudder upon seeing the cold, dispassionate look in his friend's ice-blue eyes.
"The barghest knows where Nathifa and the others are bound next," Diran said. "I'll go talk to him and find out. Alone."
The priest turned and started walking toward the web-covered creature. He paused at the spot where Nathifa had been standing to gather up the daggers that had fallen when Solus stopped levitating them. Most of the blades he slipped back into their cloak sheaths. But a couple-the sharpest ones-he held onto with tight, white-knuckled fists.
Diran reached the barghest, crouched down next to him, and began speaking softly. So softly that even Ghaji's excellent hearing couldn't make out what the priest said.
Ghaji turned toward the others. "Now that the web mummies are no longer aggressive, it should be simple enough for us to destroy them. All we need to do is make a few torches and set them on fire, keeping watch for any escaping spiderlings as their hosts burn."
"I have little psionic energy remaining to me, but I believe I have enough left to start a fire," Solus said. "Unfortunately, it takes more energy to maintain control of such an ability than it does to merely wield it. If I attempt to create a flame right now, I might very well create a conflagration that will fill the entire crypt."
"Don't worry about it," Tresslar said, glancing sideways at Diran and the barghest. "We can manage by making torches the old-fashioned way."
"You can help by guarding Asenka's"-Ghaji had been about to say body-"guarding Asenka. If any spiderlings get past us, you can levitate them away from her."
The psiforged inclined his head somberly. "It will be my honor to take care of our friend."
Ghaji was about to tell the others to begin looking for material to make torches when the barghest's first scream tore through the air. It was far from the creature's last.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The first rays of dawn were just beginning to tint the eastern sky when they laid Asenka to rest. The companions stood before a funeral pyre fashioned from rocks and tree limbs, watching as flames tinted with silverburn wreathed the woman's body. Though they had burned out the infestation of spider spawn in the ancient underground crypt, Diran had insisted on cremating Asenka, just in case any more of the giant arachnids might be laired elsewhere in the vicinity. The followers of the Silver Flame usually buried their dead, but Ghaji knew Diran couldn't bear the thought of Asenka becoming a web mummy, and the half-orc didn't blame him.
As Diran prayed for the Silver Flame to accept Asenka's soul, Ghaji kept close watch for any sign of threat. They'd already lost two members of their party on this expedition, and he was determined that no one else would die, not as long as the merest scrap of strength remained to him.
Ghaji doubted Nathifa, Makala, or Haaken would return. For one thing, daylight was swiftly approaching, which meant Makala would need to seek shelter from the sun. For another, Skarm had told Diran everything about Nathifa's plans, and the companions now knew all that had transpired since the lich had stolen Tresslar's dragonwand at the psi-forge facility within Mount Luster. According to the barghest, his mistress and her servants were on their way to Regalport right now. Skarm had been vague on what Nathifa hoped to accomplish once she arrived at the port city. It seemed the undead sorceress had only shared so much information with her underlings. But Ghaji knew that whatever the lich had planned, it didn't bode well for the citizens of Regalport.
Ghaji glanced at Diran. The priest stood with his head bowed, speaking prayers in hushed, reverent tones. Leontis, in human form once more, stood next to his old friend, intoning the same prayers along with him. After Ghaji had split the werewolf's skull with his axe, the beast had remained unconscious for some time as it healed, and by the time its wounds had finally vanished, the wolf had become a man again.
Ghaji was worried about Diran. He had traveled with the priest for some time now, and they had seen each other at their best and their worst. Ghaji understood that his friend had lived the first half of his life as a killer for hire, and he'd witnessed the assassin within Diran come to the fore on a number of occasions. But the half-orc had never seen Diran do anything as cold-blooded as the methodical way he'd "questioned" Skarm. Diran had taken his time, patiently waited for the barghest's screams to die away so that he could ask the next question. And if he didn't like the answer he got-or if Skarm was too hesitant in answering-Diran used one of his blades and the screaming would start anew. When Diran had been satisfied the barghest had told them all it could, Diran had told the creature that he was going to heal it. What the priest didn't tell Skarm was that since he had a strong dose of tomb spider venom inside him, the healing magic would have the opposite effect. At least the barghest had died quickly.