Alias knelt down and managed to get hold of Olive’s invisible shoulders. “Olive, try to keep calm,” the swordswoman said, though her own voice rose alarmingly. “What have they done to him? Is Dragonbait all right?”
“Dragonbait is fine,” Olive hissed. “It’s Finder. He’s been possessed. He’s one of the minions!”
“No!” Alias whispered in shock.
“Yes,” Olive sniffed. “He’s got a flower coming out of his ear, and he’s sitting in Coral’s tent right now. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“No,” Akabar said. “Finder doesn’t know our plans, and if we carry them out quickly, he won’t have time to prepare them for our attack.”
“No, Akabar!” Olive said. “You don’t understand. Your blood is the seed! I heard Finder say so. If they catch you, it’s all over.”
“Akabar’s blood can’t be the seed,” Alias said. “Coral told Dragonbait they were going to resurrect Moander tonight. How could Coral say that if she didn’t even know where Akabar was?”
“Alias, she’s the Mouth of Moander,” Olive said. “She says whatever Moander wants her to say. She lied to upset Dragonbait, just as Moander lied to you when you were its prisoner.”
Alias nodded thoughtfully. Moander took great delight in causing people grief and fear. The god would say anything to achieve that goal.
“I am not the seed,” Akabar snarled.
“Akabar,” Alias argued, “Moander had plenty of opportunity to put its power inside you and taint your blood, All its minions have been looking for you, trying to capture you. Olive must be right.”
Akabar’s eyes narrowed into slits and his head shook with anger. It had taken him a long time to forget his shame and fury at the way Moander had used his body to harm his friends. He couldn’t deny that he’d been powerless in the god’s control, and there had been times when he’d been unconscious and could have been violated with some foul magic. “Then it’s the god’s justice that I have been sent to destroy Moander,” the mage said, his voice like steel. “I must stay.”
“Akabar, be reasonable. We can’t risk having you get captured. We have to get you out of here!” Alias insisted.
“No!” Akabar said stubbornly, “I am not fleeing.”
“Akabar, suppose Moander’s enchanted you to come here. By staying, you’re simply doing its bidding,” the swordswoman pointed out.
“It’s too late to cancel our plans now,” Akabar said “There’s no way to alert Grypht. He’s relying on us to do our parts.”
“All right,” Alias sighed. As unwise as she felt it to be, she had no choice but to give in to the mage’s logic.
“What are you going to do about Finder?” Olive asked anxiously. “You can’t hit him with a cone of cold. It could kill him.”
Akabar knelt beside Alias and laid his hand beside the swordswoman’s on the halfling’s shoulder. He gave Olive an encouraging squeeze. “Dragonbait is a paladin. He can cast a cure disease spell on Finder.”
Olive nodded, though since she was invisible, the others couldn’t see it. She pulled Dragonbait’s sword out of the invisible sack and held the weapon out so Alias could see it.
Alias took the sword and whispered “Toast” in saurial. The sword glowed, then burst into flame. Olive drew a torch out of her knapsack and ignited it over the saurial’s magical weapon.
“Good luck,” Alias whispered to the halfling as the light from the torch, held by the halfling’s invisible hand, bounced around the edge of the clearing.
“The light stone’s gone out,” Akabar whispered.
Alias heard a twittering noise coming from the inner huts. “There’s the alarm.”
From the center of the camp came a shout in saurial. “There’s Dragonbait!” Alias said, spying the paladin running toward them, weaving his way through the huts of the saurial camp. “Get ready.”
Akabar pulled out a feather from one of his robe pockets and began chanting a spell that would enable him to fly.
Alias gasped suddenly as the vines that fastened the pine boughs to the huts lashed out from the huts and tangled themselves around the paladin’s legs. Dragonbait fell to the ground, trying desperately to pull the vines from his legs, but more vines began tangling around his arms and waist. Between the huts, a white saurial in white robes gestured in Dragonbait’s direction. Vines began wrapping around the paladin’s throat.
“No!” Alias shouted, rushing forward. Before she could reach the paladin’s side, however, other vines lashed out at her from huts at the edge of the clearing. Alias hacked through the vines with Dragonbait’s flaming blade, but more vines kept coming at her.
As suddenly as they had appeared, the vines dropped to the ground, motionless. Akabar must have dispelled the magic that animated them, Alias thought. The swordswoman looked toward where Coral had stood to see if she was casting another spell at her, but the white saurial was nowhere in sight. Alias ran to help Dragonbait, only to find the vines surrounding him had also lost their enchantment and the saurial paladin was already pulling himself free.
“Are you all right?” she asked her companion in saurial.
“Yes,” The paladin replied. With a remorseful scent of mint, he added, “I was stupid to get captured. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll yell at you later,” Alias said, handing him his flaming sword. She grabbed the lizard’s hand and pulled him back to the edge of the clearing, where Akabar was waiting.
“You might have been captured out there. What were you thinking, woman?” Akabar demanded.
“Sorry,” Alias said. “Thanks for dispelling those tangle vines.”
“I didn’t do it,” Akabar said. “It must have been Grypht.”
“But he should be on the other side of the camp by now,” Alias said.
“Alias, we haven’t got time for discussions. Hold still so I can cast a flying spell on you,” Akabar ordered.
Akabar repeated the chant for the spell he’d already cast on himself, brushing Alias’s arms with a second feather. Instantly the feather burst into flame and disappeared.
“That’s it?” she asked. “What do I do, flap my arms?”
“If you want to. However, it’s not necessary,” Akabar said. He turned to Dragonbait and explained hastily. “Olive is starting fires in the brush to the south of the clearing. Grypht will cast a wall of fire on the west side. You must use your sword to start igniting the forest on this side while Alias and I begin burning the huts. We’re trying to drive the saurials out of the vale into the mountains to the east. Once the fires are all lit, Grypht and I will fly to the east to cast cones of cold at the saurials as they flee from the vale; Alias will be our lookout. You’ll have to deal with any saurials who aren’t panicked by the fires and are still acting on Moander’s behalf.”
Dragonbait nodded. He ran his finger down Alias’s sword arm, whispering “Good luck” in saurial. As Alias and Akabar soared upward and off toward the huts, the paladin hurried to begin setting fires along the north edge of the vale.
Grypht paused a moment in midflight to look down into the camp. The sight of all the tribe’s spell-casters bursting out of their huts, catching their toes on the halfling’s trip wires, and sprawling on the ground might have been amusing in other circumstances. The wizard tried not to dwell on the thought that if his plan worked, most of these people would be dead before morning. He reminded himself of all the other lives at stake. He thought, too, of the desperate cry for release Coral had made in Alias’s soul song. Even if it meant Coral’s death, Grypht knew the priestess would accept anything rather than serve the Darkbringer.
He could see Coral’s white hide standing out in the dusk. A dark figure stood beside her. The wizard squinted, but he had trouble making out much detail in the gathering darkness. He couldn’t discern which of their tribe it was. Then the dark figure disappeared in a flash of light. The sight unsettled the old wizard. Who was the spell-caster, and where had he gone? Grypht wondered.