“No!” Geth yelled. He managed a stumbling step forward even as Ashi wrenched on the cord and hauled Dandra into her grasp. Dandra tried to strain away-
— and the cord around her neck snapped. The psicrystal flew free.
Geth stretched out his right hand and snatched the crystal out of the air, clenching the steel-cased fingers of his gauntlet tight to keep it from slipping through. He spun back to Ashi and Dandra. The Bonetree hunter had her arms wrapped around Dandra, lifting her off her feet and squeezing her in a crushing grip.
“Let her go!” Geth roared. He stuffed the psicrystal hastily into his pouch without looking and started to let Natrac slide to the ground.
“No,” called a deep, oil-smooth voice, “hold her. Give up your struggle, shifter-there’s nothing more for you to fight for.”
Geth spun around.
He had seen and heard Dah’mir in Dandra’s memories, but even memory paled in comparison to the majesty of the man himself. Robed in black leather set with priceless dragonshards, just as Dandra had first seen him, the tall, pale-skinned man stood at the bottom of the steps. The gloom of the chamber made his acid-green eyes seem to shimmer. His presence was almost overwhelming-Geth gasped as it washed over him. His gut clenched. Dah’mir was right. There was nothing more to fight for! His grasp on Natrac tightened …
Then he gasped again as the stones of Adolan’s collar grew shockingly cold. A new clarity burst inside his mind, driving back Dah’mir’s power. Geth shook his head, blinked, and looked at Dah’mir again.
The green-eyed man’s presence was strong, but not so overwhelming as it had seemed a moment ago. There were cultists crowded onto the stairs behind him, peering down like a gang of children. A woman in dirty green robes stood at Dah’mir’s side. Her face was sharp and almost feral, though it had the look of having once been plump and joyful. Her tall body was hunched and crooked. Beneath smudges of dirt, her skin was dusky; her hair, clumped and matted, was shot through with gray.
It took a moment for him to recognize Medalashana-the kalashtar bore only a distant resemblance to Dandra’s memories. Geth drew a sharp breath.
Dah’mir’s eyes narrowed. Geth’s heart skipped. He glanced quickly at Dandra and Singe. The wizard was still down. Dandra was still folded in Ashi’s arms-but she was no longer struggling. She had frozen, staring at Dah’mir as if he was the center of her world.
“Shifter-” said Dah’mir.
Geth whirled, bared his teeth, and snarled.
Medalashana howled in outrage. “Dah’mir! Let me take him! I’ll shred his mind and lay his thoughts out before you!”
Geth flinched at the venom in the kalashtar’s voice, but Dah’mir held up a hand to her. “Hush, Medala. We have the one we came for. He’s nothing. If he wants to defy me, let him.”
His raised hand made a pass in the air. A flash of light seemed to grow out of that gesture and arc across the chamber. It took on a shape as it moved: a spectral claw, gnarled and inhuman.
Geth froze, then dodged to one side. The claw drifted after him. Geth growled and swatted at it with his gauntlet, but his fist passed right through it, leaving a chill on the metal.
On the ground by Ashi’s feet, Singe raised his head. His lip was swelling where Ashi had hit him. “Get out, Geth!” he slurred. “Run-”
Ashi kicked him hard and he collapsed once again. Geth swallowed. His eyes darted from Dah’mir to the open square in the floor and the water beneath. If their mysterious orc ally was down there …
Dah’mir’s other hand made another gesture and a soft, ugly word passed between his lips. The claw swooped around abruptly and slid through Geth’s chest.
The shifter gasped and staggered as a terrible ache seized his joints and nausea worse than he’d felt even on Vennet’s ship wracked his guts. His skin burned with a sudden fever heat. His vision blurred-he could only just make out the spectral claw as it drifted away from him, then faded into nothingness. He blinked, straining against a growing brightness in the air.
Medalashana was watching him with naked glee, Dah’mir with distant interest. Ashi seemed to wear an expression of anger and disgust.
The room spun around him. Geth stumbled under Natrac’s weight, then reeled sideways, blinded by the light and disoriented by fever. He tried to focus his thoughts. The hole in the floor. Escape. The water under Zarash’ak was horrible, but the idea of dropping dead from whatever plague-curse Dah’mir had placed on him was worse. He staggered forward, one step after the next.
The ache in his joints seemed to penetrate all the way into his bones. A mewling whine crawled out of his throat as he stumbled again and a horrible thought wrapped around him. He wasn’t going to make it …
He pitched forward and fell-fell until he splashed into darkness and water’s cool embrace.
Ashi looked away as the shifter plunged into the foul waters below Zarash’ak. She heard a splash and then silence. Both the shifter and the half-orc would sink and drown. Her gut clenched and she fought to keep anger and disgust from her face. It was wrong for such a strong and powerful warrior to be struck down without a chance to defend himself. To die as Ner had died …
The raw strength of her hidden emotions drew the attention of Medala. The woman stiffened and wheeled toward her. “Dah’mir!” she seethed. “Your savage disapproves!”
Dah’mir lifted his handsome face and raised an eyebrow. “Do you, Ashi?”
The hunter ground her teeth together, trying to guess what best to say, then simply spoke what was in her mind. “He was a good enemy, Revered,” she said. “For an outclanner, he showed bravery and commitment to his friends, too. He deserved to die fighting.”
Medala’s face twisted in a vile grin and she barked out a coarse laugh. Dah’mir’s lips pulled into a shallow smile as well. “He was fighting me, Ashi,” he said. “Is that less of a challenge than facing you over steel?”
Ashi’s fist tightened. She said nothing for a moment, then bowed her head. “No, Revered,” she admitted.
Dah’mir’s smile grew deeper.
“Ashi, haven’t I always said you are as bright as you are strong?” He folded his hands and paced across the room to her, Medala stalking along at his heels. Ashi felt her captive stiffen in her grasp as he approached. By her feet, the blond wizard stirred again. The hunter quickly put a foot down hard on the small of his back.
Dah’mir ignored him to examine the woman, taking her chin in one hand and forcing her head up. Her breath quickened as she met Dah’mir’s green gaze. “Ah,” the pale man murmured softly, “you just can’t help yourself, can you?” Dah’mir’s hand fell away. “You can let her go, Ashi. She won’t go anywhere.”
Dandra released her hold cautiously, but the woman did nothing more than turn to stare at Dah’mir with doe-eyed fascination.
Beneath Ashi’s foot, the wizard shifted and struggled to climb to his feet. He twisted around to glare at Dah’mir. “Twelve bloody moons!” he cursed, outrage on his face. “What have you done to her, fiend?”
Dah’mir stepped back sharply, gesturing for Ashi to let him rise. She reached down and dragged the squirming man to his feet, but kept a tight grip on him. Dah’mir moved back in front of him. Unlike the woman, the wizard didn’t succumb to Dah’mir’s mere presence-but Dah’mir didn’t seem surprised or bothered by that. He simply gave the wizard a level look. “This is how it will be,” he said. “You will come with us. If you attempt to use magic, I will know and I will give you to Medala.”
He lifted one finger and Medala’s eyes blazed. The sound of a chime seemed to ring in Ashi’s mind. In her hands, the wizard’s body tensed as tight as a bowstring and he screamed. Dah’mir’s finger fell, but the chime and the wizard’s screams both continued to ring in Ashi’s ears. Medala stared at the man like a dolgrim stared at a wounded rabbit. “Medala!” Dah’mir spat.