Vhok shook his head as he tried to gain control of his magical levitation. "I would, but I can't!" he called, shouting to be heard above the whistling air. "I go up or down, that's all!" He managed to arrest their fall again, slowing them to a less deadly pace. "And right now, with your extra weight, it's only down," he added, straining to hold on to the priest. "Can you save yourself?" he asked. "Any magic left for flying or whatnot?"
Zasian shook his head. "Nothing. We cast it all at the mine. But I might get Myshik with something before he cleaves us both in half."
Vhok watched the half-dragon approaching again. The draconic hobgoblin held his axe drawn back and was swooping in for another slice at them. "Do it," the cambion said. "Hurry, because I'm dropping us the moment you're done."
Zasian nodded and released one of Vhok's hands. The half-fiend moved his free hand to hold onto the priest's other arm with a double grip.
Zasian grabbed at his pendant and muttered something Vhok couldn't hear. He gestured toward the approaching half-dragon as he finished the spell.
A blinding column of fire roared downward from the heavens. Vhok flinched at the sight of it. It bored down right atop Myshik and engulfed the Clan Morueme whelp.
Vhok didn't wait to see Myshik's condition. The moment the casting was complete, he released his levitation magic and once more, the duo fell from the sky.
Something blue tumbled past Vhok as he and Zasian fell, but he didn't get a clear view of it, for at that moment, a second object slammed into the priest, sending them both spinning. The blow wrenched Vhok and Zasian apart. The cambion felt the priest's hand slip away.
Vhok flailed in the air, still falling. Then his mind cleared and he slowed himself with his magic. He watched as his companion, who had caught the brunt of the blow, arced sideways.
The priest fell against the side of a dome atop the sultan's palace. It was a glancing blow, and Zasian skidded for a bit before sliding down the curved, steep side. He spread his arms and legs, attempting to halt his advance, but his momentum was too great, and he slipped over the side of the onion-shaped top.
Supreme luck was with the priest. The drop dumped him near a railed balcony just below the dome, and Zasian grabbed hold of the banister with one hand as he tumbled past. He jerked to a sudden stop and hung there for a moment, sagging.
Vhok wondered if his counterpart had the strength to hoist himself up, but he had other things to worry about. Upright and floating once more, he scanned the air for any sign of Myshik. He spotted the half-dragon gliding through the air below. The draconic hobgoblin no longer rode his magical mount, nor did he have his axe. He was using his wings to control his fall, descending at an angle and steering himself to avoid the buildings in his path.
Myshik landed, rather roughly, in a street near the purple fountain of flame in front of the palace. Vhok saw several of the efreeti palace guards move to confront the half-hobgoblin. The cambion was certain they would attack Myshik, try to capture him, but instead, it appeared that they treated him deferentially. They helped him to his feet and escorted him through the gates and into the palace.
Terrific, Vhok thought. They're on his side. All the more reason to hurry, he decided.
The cambion turned his attention back to Zasian.
The priest had climbed onto the balcony, and he leaned against the wall, panting. No one had come to the doorway from within, but Vhok knew his companion had little time. Zasian stood upright and made a familiar motion. The half-fiend recognized the gesture as the workings of healing magic.
"What now?" Vhok shouted to the priest when the spell was finished.
Zasian looked at him and shrugged. "We have to get down into that courtyard," he said, pointing. Vhok could see that the semicircular enclosure was directly below the priest. But the cambion was nowhere near his destination. Were he to levitate down, he would place himself on the wrong side of a massive defensive wall.
The two of them were separated by only ten paces or so, but it might as well have been the world right then. Vhok had no magic left to reach his companion.
"Your rope!" Vhok said, inspired. "Hold it up!"
Zasian nodded, understanding Vhok's intentions. He pulled a coil of rope from his belongings and held it up.
Vhok mouthed a spell and pointed at the coil. He felt a magical connection take hold, and he could control the rope.
"Hold one end!" Vhok said, and when the priest grasped the tip of it, Vhok began to magically reel the other end toward himself.
The coil was more than enough to stretch between them, and as soon as Vhok took hold of his end, he and Zasian started pulling.
A thin beam of scorching heat slashed near Vhok. The ray had emanated from the ground below. A second one blasted past the cambion, and a third struck him. He jerked in pain and nearly lost his grip on his lifeline to Zasian.
The half-fiend peered down and saw numerous palace guards gathered around the base of the tower. The efreet stood in a clump, launching the fiery rays at will. Other guards swarmed the palace grounds, moving to join them.
Vhok saw a trio of efreet dematerialize, turning to puffs of ghostly vapor. The gaseous creatures ascended, heading toward the balcony where Zasian pulled on the rope.
Vhok redoubled his efforts.
The priest cried out, struck by a pair of molten beams. Vhok felt a second one strike him, too, and the searing pain was almost too much. He felt himself growing faint, and he had to fight to maintain his grip on the rope.
"Don't slow down!" Zasian shouted. "When you get here, just drop! No levitation! Otherwise, they'll pick us out of the sky!"
Vhok raised his eyebrows at the priest's suggestion, but he didn't stop pulling. Zasian swung one leg over the top of the railing as the cambion drew near. A scorching blast nicked the priest, and another hit the rope, severing it.
Vhok was still a good two paces from Zasian. They both gauged the distance and mutely agreed that it was enough. Simultaneously, they jumped toward each other. Vhok released his magic as he and the priest crashed together. They wrapped their arms around each other as they fell once more.
The efreet's magical rays continued to arc through the sky, but the blasts missed the rapidly descending duo. Vhok fought the urge to slow them down. He knew that the speed of their fall made it difficult for the palace guards to aim, but it went against every fiber of his being to willingly plummet to the flagstones of the courtyard.
The drop seemed to last forever, yet the ground rushed up at them at a terrifying rate. Just when Vhok didn't think he could hold off any longer, Zasian yelled.
"Now!" the priest barked. "Slow us down!"
Vhok willed the magic to take hold, but their momentum and the extra weight strained him to his limits. The cambion felt as if he were being crushed from below, but he managed to arrest most of their downward motion.
They hit the courtyard hard enough to send them sprawling.
Vhok felt the breath driven from his lungs, and he lay for a moment, struggling to regain it. White light marred his vision, and his left shoulder ached where he had landed on it. He would have stayed there longer, but the heat of a fiery ray hit the stones near his cheek, and he jumped up to look for cover.
The expansive courtyard lay well below the rest of the palace grounds. It was more of a natural rock garden than a courtyard, a veritable jungle of stone outcroppings, spindly trees, and tall grasses. The walls surrounding the garden rose thirty feet or more and curved inward near the top; climbing them was near impossible. Vhok was relieved to see that there was no evidence of the endless jets of fire and acrid, stinging smoke so prevalent elsewhere on the plane.