Still defending himself against the sword of light, the blaspheme started to do precisely that, and its troops with it. It occurred to Aoth that a prudent man might be glad to let it go. But he was certain that the blaspheme was a leader maybe the leader of the undead conspiracy threatening Rashemen. He set about stabbing and burning the ice troll out of his way as quickly as he could.
Unfortunately, it took a few heartbeats, and after that, he found himself facing clanking, steaming boarlike constructs of articulated steel and brass products of Raumathari sorcery, probably that the enemy had deployed to recover their retreat. Once he and his allies destroyed those, the vault was theirs, but the blaspheme had long gone.
THIRTEEN
As previously planned, the surviving leaders of the defense assembled in a vault two levels deeper than the one they d just conceded to the attackers. A number of their weary followers had crowded into the chamber with its intricate bas-reliefs of demons and damned souls crawling over and over one another, and more were stumbling in by the moment. But Nyevarra and her peers had claimed a little side crypt for their exclusive use, so they could talk privately.
As she d so often seen him, Uramar stood staring at nothing and occasionally whispered to himself. Dark blood, or something akin to it, oozed from the slash in his torso; and despite the gravity of the current situation, she found herself wondering how that gelid ichor tasted. Would it poison her or exalt her in ways the blood of the living never could? Of late, sleeping away the time when the sun shone in the sky, she d been having ecstatic dreams and terrifying nightmares sometimes it was hard to tell which were which about what might happen if he d allow her to drink her fill of ekolid blood
She realized Pevkalondra was staring at her. I m sorry, she said.
I asked, said the ghoul with an edge in her voice, if you were absolutely certain we were beaten. The pearl in her eye socket glimmered in a manner suggestive of a tic, and the tiny silver scorpions crawling in the folds of her robe made a tiny rustling. No living person would have been able to hear them, but a vampire could.
The Raumviran s question, and the implication of cowardice it carried, drove thoughts of exotic blood from Nyevarra s mind. Of course! she snapped. Once I was out of the thick of it, I could see the whole battle in a way others couldn t. And yes, we killed the Stag King or rather, she had, she and the trap she d set, so how dare anyone doubt her courage or her judgment, either? But nothing else was going as we had hoped. The enemy had destroyed Falconer and the glabrezu, too.
And the blonde witch had seemed on the verge of burning her and her sister durthans to ash. Although in retrospect, Nyevarra realized, there was reason to question whether the bitch truly had possessed the power. Maybe Nyevarra had given up on that particular part of the struggle too quickly. But she would rather have jammed a hawthorn stake into her own heart than admit it.
Pevkalondra spat charcoal-colored sludge. If I had thought the battle hinged on filthy Nars and their pets, she said, I wouldn t have agreed to help fight it in the first place.
Nyevarra sneered and felt her fangs lengthening. If I were you, I d keep my voice down, she said. There are Nars just outside. Many more than there are Raumvirans.
I don t fear them or barbarian witches, either, the ghoul said.
Nyevarra took a firmer grip on her new antler weapon. But before it could come to a fight, Uramar roused with a jerk, and his mismatched eyes widened at the display of burgeoning hostility.
Enough! he said.
Pevkalondra scowled to the extent that her shriveled, flaking face was capable of expression. I don t care if your Nars and durthans outnumber me a thousand to one, she said.
I will have respect.
Uramar hesitated before replying, almost as if someone was whispering the proper response in his ear. You do have it, he said. If it seemed otherwise, it s simply because we undead have a fierceness in us. And when things aren t going well, it can even make us lash out at one another.
Well, it s too bad your leman here wasn t feeling a little more fierce upstairs, the ghoul said. Then perhaps things would be going better.
I was in the midst of the fighting, Nyevarra said. Where were you? Directing your constructs from a safe distance, I believe.
Because that s an effective way to kill the enemy, Pevkalondra replied. As opposed to giving the order to run away.
Please, Uramar said through gritted teeth.
No more bickering. Lady Pevkalondra, I understand your frustration. I thought we were going to win, too. We should have. But luck wasn t with us, and I m satisfied that Nyevarra made the right decision. I promise you that when the time is right, we ll take revenge for this defeat.
Pevkalondra spat again. But for now, we set our puppets dancing and disappear, she said.
Yes, the blaspheme said. So let s get to it, and deploy those who are staying behind in such a way that the enemy will pay a price for the privilege of hunting us. For if their counterfeits went down too easily, it could give the game away.
Aoth turned back to Cera just in time to see blood flow from under the stained linen bandages wrapped around her brow. Cursing, she pressed her hand against the dressing.
Do you need help? he asked.
She snorted. What kind of a healer would I be if I didn t know how to apply pressure to a cut? she said, cocking her head. She studied him, and her expression softened.
It s nothing, I promise.
But you almost lost your eyes, he thought, and, maybe partly because he himself had once been blind, the thought appalled him. She was right, though, there was no point fussing about it, especially when so many of their allies had fared far worse.
Fair enough, he said. Is your magic coming back?
Trickling back, she said. I ll start helping those who are hurt the worst as soon as I can.
Good. And I need to do my own work, he said as he hugged her, and their armor clinked together.
Aoth made his way across the vault. Corpses most conspicuously, the gigantic, burned-smelling carcass of the glabrezu littered the floor. Berserkers sat huddled and shivering, waiting for the sickness that followed their fury to run its course. Meanwhile, stag warriors guarded the arches leading to the tunnels. Jhesrhi had attended to that. Apparently the degenerate fey were taking their orders from her.
Aoth wondered what they thought they recognized in her, and what the durthans she d put to flight imagined they d perceived. He told himself they were merely overreacting to the fire flowing inside her. With his spellscarred eyes, he could see it, too, but it didn t mean anything beyond the obvious. Although, of course, the obvious was strange enough.
When she saw him coming, Jhesrhi gave him a nod. Is your magic coming back? she asked.
The question of the moment, he said, smiling.
Yes, and what about yours?
Yes, she said, returning his question with a quick smile. I take it we re going to need it.
I hope you are, Vandar said.
Aoth turned to face the man who d come up behind him. Though he looked as spent and as shaky as any of his lodge brothers he was leaning on the red spear like an old man leaning on a staff Vandar s eyes glared, and his lips were twisted in a sneer.
What does that mean? asked Aoth.
I thought the glabrezu had killed both of you, the Rashemi said. But now I see that you just gave up on trying to kill it.
Aoth felt a stab of anger and took a long breath to quell it.