The speck exploded into a brilliant wave of light that washed over the camp, a thousand times brighter than the midday sun, before it dissolved back into the dark of night. In that horrid instant Vell saw the night vanish, and watched as many of the Uthgardt closest to the impact collapsed unconscious. Most of the barbarians were too late to protect their eyes and now screamed, unable to see. Behind him, Vell could hear the cries of children. Torches fell to the ground and burned the grass, leaping and raging toward some of the tents.
But Vell's eyes had looked into the flash and withstood it.
Kellin uncovered her eyes and turned to join him, just in time to see a winged beast swoop down from above. The warriors stumbled and groped, blind or dazed, and did not notice as the creature closed its talons around the unconscious form of Sungar and lifted him into the air. The hippogriff bore two riders—a honey-haired young woman and an older man. It lifted off with Sungar firmly in its grip.
Kellin extended one hand. A bolt of silver-blue energy burst forth, rocketing across the camp and striking the woman just as the hippogriff rose. It blew her from her place and she fell to the ground, landing amid a group of semiconscious barbarians. The woman dazedly propped herself up and shot Kellin a dirty look. Then she drew her sword and sank it into a defenseless Uthgardt's heart, twisting his body to place it between herself and Kellin.
The revelation that Kellin was a spellcaster was lost on Vell as he watched the hippogriff rise into the night, Sungar in its talons. In perfect fury, Vell called upon all that he had previously held back and fought against. He bid the scales to come, and with them, whatever powers that so terrified him. Like a dammed river bursting free, they came in a torrent.
* * * * *
This was supposed to be easy, thought Valkin as he tugged on the reins. He turned his mount to circle back to the camp that he would be so happy to leave behind.
It hadn't taken much for Geildarr to talk Valkin into this scheme. Everybody who'd visited Llorkh in the past two years had heard about Ardeth. She was Geildarr's protegee and some said something more—an uncomfortable thought. At the very least, Valkin thought that a few days alone with her would be good for much discussion over ales at the Wet Wizard.
He could hardly leave her to be murdered by barbarians.
But when the hippogriff came about, Valkin found himself staring into the black, slitted eyes of a great lizard. Indistinct in the dim light, it seemed to him that a new hill had grown up beneath him, its serpentine neck reaching up so high it was almost at his level.
"What in all the Hells!" shouted Valkin. His hippogriff shrieked and stared, closing its claws more tightly around Sungar. Valkin did nothing to discourage the hippogriff as it wheeled about and flew. He looked back, and the behemoth was running after him, the sound of each step rolling off the Crags and crashing like a waterfall. It was gaining on him.
Valkin yanked the reins, taking his mount higher and higher to escape the colossal beast's reach. When he looked back, the barbarian camp was visible only from the fires burning in the distance. He led the hippogriff into a dive to the left, and as he passed alongside the rampaging behemoth, he lit up the night with a lightning bolt that danced between his fingers before streaking to the behemoth's bulky middle.
Letting out a dull but deafening moan of pain, the lizard's legs collapsed beneath it. It fell to the ground with force that rumbled the entire vale. But it was not dead—far from it—and Valkin could already see the creature straining to rise again. He had, however, slowed the monster, and that gave him his chance.
"I must be mad," he muttered as he tugged the reins, directing his hippogriff back to the camp.
* * * * *
Distant rumbles roiled in the distance. Like a thunderstorm crashing all around them, the ground rolled and shook in the Thunderbeast camp. A great mountain of scales rose among the barbarians and was gone and away in a flash, some of the dazed and fallen crushed under its huge feet. Kellin and Ardeth ignored the distraction as they illuminated the night with colorful spells—red and gold shimmers and bursts of magic flying from their fingertips and coursing through the chaotic camp. Kellin did not know what was happening out in the darkness, but she feared for Vell as a lightning blast crackled through the sky in the periphery of her vision.
The dazed barbarians were beginning to recover around Ardeth, and she tried to finish them with a quick flash of her sword or by sinking her foot into their exposed necks, crushing windpipes. But there were too many, and as her human shield rocked under each new magical assault, the corpse weakened and collapsed into pulp. Cursing, Ardeth pushed free of the barbarian hands that grasped at her slender legs and arms. She made quick leaps in Kellin's direction, her sword at her side. Through the darkness she bounded and wove past the barbarians with strange grace, reaching Kellin too quickly for her opponent to react. Kellin tried to dodge her, but cried out as Ardeth's sword caught her shoulder.
Kellin stumbled backward, blood spilling down her sword arm. She drew her father's blade from its sheath but could not hold onto it, and it fell to the ground. In the flickering light of the fire, she could see her opponent's pale oval face twisting into a wicked smile, her sword held at the ready, but before Ardeth could finish off her opponent, a strong hand gripped Ardeth's forearm and twisted her around.
The distant rumbles became closer again, somewhere off in the night.
Keirkrad's blue eyes bore through Ardeth, staring at her from beneath a layer of scales, the sour stink of his breath washing over her. Silently, he released her forearm and instead clamped onto her shoulders with both hands, squeezing with all the magical strength of his altered shape. But Ardeth twisted and slithered within his embrace, freeing her hands just enough to drive her sword into the shaman's magical hide. It sliced deep and embedded. Keirkrad gulped back the pain, but he did not release her. His fingers dug down to her bones, and she let out a high-pitched yelp.
So intense was Keirkrad's blood fury that he did not feel the breeze of wings beating just above him. He was unprepared for the bolt of magic that struck him from above, battering him into unconsciousness in an instant. Keirkrad's form remained stiff as he collapsed, Ardeth still locked within his embrace.
As Kellin prepared a spell, Valkin shot a purplish bolt in her direction that exploded as she dived frantically. The blast hurled her backward by more than half a dozen sword lengths. As a number of Uthgardt warriors charged, Ardeth wriggled free of Keirkrad's unconscious grip and grasped Valkin's outstretched hand above her.
In a single motion he pulled the woman up. She settled behind him on the hippogriff, and it lifted into the night sky just as Uthgardt arrows and hammers sailed in their direction. But with Sungar still in the creature's talons, the warriors dared not strike the hippogriff. The battered tribe could do nothing to stop the beast from flying away, their chief caught in its grip.
"Do you know anything about this?" Valkin demanded of Ardeth. The ground rumbled again, but he couldn't see the creature that had attacked him as he peered through the darkness. "There's something out there. It's huge, and it almost knocked me out of the sky. What is it?"
"I think it's what some call a dinosaur," said Ardeth. "Or what that tribe calls a thunderbeast."
"What's it doing here?" Valkin asked. "We're a long way from Chult."
"I don't know," said Ardeth, peering over the side of the hippogriff into the darkness beneath them. "Perhaps our captive knows. The whip will tell."
As the thunder of heavy steps approached behind them, Valkin tugged on the reins. The hippogriff, tired and overburdened, angled upward but gained elevation only gradually.