Tzaryan lunged for the spot where they had stood, still roaring curses but Hruucan … Hruucan turned slowly, as if surveying the chamber and those who remained in it. Flames crawled across his body. His fiery tentacles drifted almost lazily in the air. His voice grated and crackled like flame itself. “Revenge …” he said. His gaze settled on Singe and his mouth split in a smile.
He burst into motion, tentacles snapping forward to seize Singe. The wizard, already weak, cried out, his cry dropping quickly into a horrible moan. Ekhaas, still burdened by Natrac, shrank away, but started to open her mouth in song. Without releasing Singe, Hruucan lashed out with a kick that knocked her back, sent Natrac tumbling out of her arms, and left a scorched mark on her leather armor. “You’re next!” he promised her. His eyeless face sought out Dandra. “Then you!”
Fear stabbed through Dandra-not for herself, but for Singe. For all of them. Hruucan seemed unstoppable. Whitefire didn’t affect the already burned dolgaunt. Vayhatana could throw him away, but he’d just come back. Hruucan was as fast as she was, faster than Ekhaas, and she had a terrible feeling that anyone without Singe’s ring who came into the dolgaunt’s grasp would not last as long as the wizard had. Dandra’s eyes darted around the chamber. Orshok and Natrac were still down. Ashi was struggling back to her feet. Geth, stunned by his impact with the ground, was staggering as new blood rushed down his face.
Even Tzaryan looked frightened by Hruucan’s intensity. The ogre mage met her gaze and thrust a hand at the ogre frozen by his misaimed spell. “If I hadn’t wasted that on him, I might have been able to do something!”
A desperate idea formed in Dandra’s mind. Light of il-Yannah, she thought, let me be right about this! Stepping into the air, she flung up a hand, spun out a web of vayhatana-and wrapped it around Singe’s sagging body.
Hruucan must have recognized the touch of her power. His tentacles loosened instantly, leaving only wisps of flame to be devoured by Singe’s ring, and leaped away with a frustrated shriek. He spun to face Dandra, but she already had what she wanted.
With all of her will, she wrenched on the invisible streams of vayhatana, pulling at Singe as hard as she had thrust at Hruucan earlier. Singe’s body jerked into a blur of motion that ripped a startled cry out of him. Quick as thought, Dandra skimmed backward as fast as she could, flinging herself back into the passage that had been their refuge and dragging Singe-still hurtling through the air-with her.
Out in the chamber, Hruucan screamed. “He’s mine!”
“Come get him!” Dandra shouted back. She caught a glimpse of the dolgaunt surging after her-then the floor fell away under her heels and in the instant that she tried to adjust to the uneven surface of the stairs, Singe’s body hammered into hers.
The impact knocked her over and they both went crashing down the stairs. Dandra reached out with her mind, grabbing at the walls as they rushed past-and at Singe as he tumbled with her. Stones bashed her arms and legs, bruising her to the bone. Singe yelled out once, then grunted and gasped, his limbs flailing. Solid ground hit Dandra hard in the chest. Singed slammed down beside and across her. The heel of a boot was like a fist in her back. For a second, it seemed that she couldn’t breath, but she forced her arms to move, to push against the ground, to flip her over as fire flared above, the only light in the darkness.
Hruucan was on the stairs and rushing down at her like an explosion, his face a mask of hatred. Dandra grabbed for Singe and held on tight as she pushed hard against the base of the stairs with all of her fading mental strength.
The stone was unyielding. The rough floor scrapped at Dandra’s legs as she and Singe shot backward-and into the chamber that held Taruuzh’s tomb.
The howls of the ghost, stirred back to rage by Dah’mir’s presence above, rose to a pitch. Frigid wind seized them instantly, dragging another gasp from Singe. His eyes snapped open in shock and he sucked in a choking breath. “Dandra! What-?”
He didn’t have a chance to finish and Dandra didn’t have a chance to reply. Caught up in his pursuit, Hruucan came plunging through the door and across the chamber. Dandra felt the heat of him flash across her face.
Taruuzh’s howls broke-then reformed. Words emerged from the wind, harsh and unearthly. Dandra hadn’t been able to understand what the ghost had said before and she still couldn’t, but his voice held such anger that it seemed to freeze her spirit. She clung to Singe and he clung to her, both of them watching as the ghost recognized his true enemy.
Hruucan’s voice rose in a scream as icy winds sucked the heat from his flames. It seemed to Dandra that he tried to fight back-one unliving thing struggling against another-but there was nothing for him to attack and nothing for him to burn. The fire of his tentacles swirled and streamed away. The light of his flames vanished, but a cold glow filled the air like moonlight on a winter night.
Hruucan staggered and turned like someone lost in a storm. The fluid motion of his limbs turned stiff and ungainly, until Dandra couldn’t be certain whether he was still moving himself or if he was just a burned corpse held upright by the wind. Taruuzh’s rage didn’t stop, though. The rushing air scoured at Hruucan’s charred flesh and a black blizzard of ash filled the chamber. Dandra choked and covered her mouth and eyes, pressing Singe’s face against her body to shield him. Big pieces of something brittle and light fluttered across her like a storm of moths.
Then the howling wind was calm. The chamber was silent. The air that touched her was sharp in its chill, but not biting. Dandra opened her eyes and lifted her head. In her arms, Singe did the same.
Ashes lay in the crevices of the chamber and in the lee of their bodies like drifts of dark snow. The moonlight glow of the air caught on a slowly settling haze of fine dust. Hruucan had been torn apart.
In front of Taruuzh’s tomb, a hobgoblin stood watching them, his body gray and translucent like old ice. His mouth moved and sighing words of Goblin stirred the ash. Dandra still couldn’t understand them, though there no longer seemed to be anger in them. It didn’t appear that the ghost cared whether she understood or not. His voice sighed once more, then he seemed to drift apart like warm breath on cold air.
The light faltered and faded with him. In the darkness, Singe found his voice. “Twelve moons,” he croaked. “Are we still alive?”
Dandra kissed him.
CHAPTER 21
They left the chamber of Taruuzh’s tomb and climbed back up the stairs by the glow of a light conjured by Singe, each of them leaning on the other for support. As Singe’s light finally flashed on the roof and walls of the upper passage, Ashi’s voice echoed down to them. “Rond betch! You’re alive! What happened to Hruucan?”
“Taruuzh got in another battle against the servants of Xoriat,” said Dandra.
She mounted the last few steps then gratefully reached for Ashi’s hand as the hunter extended her arm. She couldn’t hold back a gasp of surprise, though, at the sight of Ashi’s skin. What she had glimpsed as shadowy stripes in the chaos of combat were actually bold and colorful lines that patterned her arms and her face.
“Il-Yannah, Ashi! That’s a dragonmark!”
“It’s a Siberys dragonmark,” Singe said, accepting the support of Ashi’s other arm. “The Siberys mark of Sentinel. I don’t think there’s going to be any question of whether you’re part of House Deneith now, Ashi.”
Ashi looked at Dandra. “It just happened,” she said. “When Dah’mir called you to him, I tried to stop you but I couldn’t quite reach you. I wanted to protect you more than anything else-and suddenly it was like something woke up inside me. It felt like I burned my fingers where I touched you, but instead …”