To bluff the werewolves into revealing themselves. But just for a talk, not to kill them.
Wandering back and forth, one of the two-legged werewolves came prowling straight at Cera. With the utmost care, fighting the urge to hurry, she eased herself out of the creature s path.
The lycanthrope stopped in the same spot she d just vacated, a single step away from the place where she was crouching now. It pivoted on the spot, sniffing, then dropped to all fours to put its nose right next to the ground. After that, it raised its head and cast about some more.
Whispering, Jhesrhi repeated the charm of concealment. Cera s lips moved in silent prayer.
Jhesrhi wasn t the target of the sunlady s magic. But perhaps because she was so intent on the creature that was, she felt a bit of the effect even so. Time stretched. A single moment lasted twenty heartbeats.
The wolf-man apparently succumbed to the illusion completely. Seemingly convinced that it had searched for a sufficient time, it sprang to its clawed, gray-furred feet and stalked on.
Cera sighed a long sigh, and Jhesrhi felt some of the tension quiver out of her muscles. She looked around and saw that none of the other werewolves appeared on the verge of penetrating anybody s veil of invisibility. Remaining vigilant, she tried to pick up the thread of Aoth s and Choschax s conversation. is it, exactly? asked Aoth.
The cyclops grinned. You seem like a clever fellow, he said. What do you think it is?
I think some durthans survived the Witch War, Aoth replied. Now they re reanimating their fallen sisters, and reaching out to their old allies among the dark fey and such like you for another run at the hathrans and the lodges.
And what if they are? Choschax asked.
Then I offer my personal compliments, and those of Thay, on the harm you folk have done to the Wychlaran and their followers, Aoth replied. But I also have to say that your actions have not truly weakened them, and if that s all you can manage, a second Witch War will end just like the first. But it doesn t have to.
The cyclops snorted. How so? he asked.
You folk want to get rid of the old order, and so does Thay, said Aoth. Working separately, we ve failed to accomplish that goal. But by joining forces, we can succeed.
But then what happens? asked the cyclops.
The durthans intend to rule the humans of this land, and, the way I hear it, so does Szass Tam.
I admit, said Aoth, there was a time when he did. But he s come to recognize that no expansion is possible while Thay s enemies surround us on every side. But if Rashemen becomes an ally, it changes the strategic picture considerably. Working together, we could conquer Thesk and Aglarond, too, and divvy them up between us.
Choschax grunted. And you have the authority to speak on Szass Tam s behalf and negotiate this grand alliance? the cyclops asked.
Aoth grinned. Abyss, no, he said. I m what I appear to be. An agent charged with the task of investigating accounts of strange occurrences in Rashemen. But I at least have the authority to begin such a negotiation. If I report that the durthans have returned and are willing to discuss an alliance, you ll have a tharchion, zulkir, or someone similar sneaking north for a parley soon enough. So my question is this: Who can tell me whether such an envoy would be welcome? No offense, but I doubt it s you.
No, Choschax said, stepping closer, it isn t. But I can take you to them, and I He thrust his axe into Aoth s face.
The cyclops struck with the blunt top surface of the blade, and it clanked into the rim of the war mage s open-faced helmet. Otherwise, the blow likely would have dashed Aoth s brains out instead of simply knocking him down to sprawl motionless in the snow.
Jhesrhi had believed the conversation was going well, and so Choschax s sudden violence caught her by surprise, too. Fortunately, she d experienced enough battles to shake off surprise quickly. She sprang up, stepped out into the open, discarded her veil of concealment with a word, and cloaked herself in fire to deter her foes from coming close to her.
Nor did they. But Choschax and two of the other cyclopes stared at her, and pain stabbed into her eyes and through her chest. She fell down with her heart pounding out a spastic, stuttering beat. It felt like it was tearing itself apart.
She struggled to recite a charm of protection, but it wasn t easy when she couldn t catch her breath. A cyclops warrior sneered as though to mock her desperate efforts.
Suddenly Jet plunged earthward in a rain of broken twigs. The branches overhead were thick enough that he d no doubt scraped and battered himself in his precipitous descent, but maybe he felt desperate, too.
The griffon slammed down on top of the cyclops who d sneered at Jhesrhi. As big and as strong as the giant was, Jet s momentum smashed him to the ground, although it didn t finish him. The cyclops strained to drag himself out from underneath his assailant and to shift his grip on his spear until he could use it to stab at close quarters. Meanwhile, Jet raked at him in an effort to tear away armor and reach the flesh beneath. His claws rasped metal.
Pure startled reflexes made the other cyclopes scramble away from the beast that had plummeted among them. But they soon poised their weapons to threaten him. Snarling werewolves came slinking to surround and menace him as well.
With the cyclopes gazes diverted elsewhere, Jhesrhi managed to suck in a breath and wheeze her incantation. Her heartbeat steadied, and the juddering pain subsided. Using her staff for support, she heaved herself to her feet. Swaying, she regarded the circle of foes who, by the looks of it, were only a moment away from swarming Jet and overwhelming him.
She couldn t hit them all without striking the familiar as well, so she settled for extending her blazing hand and snapping a word of command. Darts of red light leaped from her fingertips and stabbed into the broad backs of Choschax and another cyclops. The brutes cried out and staggered.
At that same moment, Vandar charged out of the darkness. With his face twisted in a snarl that made him look as feral as any of the wolf-men, he cut at a cyclops s neck. The giant jumped back and raised his shield just in time to keep the blade from opening his throat. Metal clanked on metal.
Cera chanted and swung her mace over her head. A circle of golden light flared into existence beneath her feet, and lines shot out from it through the snow, so that she appeared to be standing atop a shining symbol of the sun. The rays reached far enough to stab under some of the werewolves and Jet, too. The lycanthropes jerked, yelped, and snarled. The griffon struck at a shapeshifter and nipped off a forearm.
For a heartbeat or two, the enemy floundered in confusion, and Jhesrhi thought the fight might already be as good as won. But then Choschax bellowed, Parothor, the sun priestess! Wolves, the griffon and the berserker! I ll kill the wizard! And his underlings, cyclopes and lycanthropes alike, oriented on the targets he d chosen for them.
Choschax s crimson gaze jabbed at Jhesrhi once again. To her relief, it wasn t as devastating that time. It didn t have the power of three other cyclopes eyes reinforcing it, she d warded herself, and she knew better than to meet it squarely. But even so, it rocked her backward and made her head throb.
She was still off balance when Choschax produced a javelin that seemed to simply appear in his hand, and threw it. She jerked up her staff and gasped a word of command. A disk of red light blinked into existence between them. The javelin banged into the shield and fell to the ground.
Choschax charged. His lumbering strides ate up the distance, and his axe was upraised. Jhesrhi realized that her corona of flame hadn t dissuaded him from fighting at close quarters. Maybe he thought that with his long arms, leathery hide, and gauntlets, he could strike her down and come away with nothing worse than blistered hands.