But Marga would not be denied. She fought like a wild thing, for she knew that she could not bear the shame and guilt of allowing her treachery to the Matrells to be continued. She had to stop the wretched creature before it got out of her chambers. She had to stop it! She began to shout, to scream at the top of her lungs, hoping someone, a servant, would hear and expose the plot.
"Bartimus, if you please," Marga heard Grozier say, raising his voice to be heard over her screams. "She's going to bring the entire household down on us, making this noise."
Marga kicked and punched at Grozier, and from his winces, she could see that she was having an effect. He released her then, and she lunged forward, trying to grab her imposter and strangle it, but she never made it across the floor. In the blink of an eye, she felt herself lose mobility, felt her body stiffen and freeze in place, caught in mid-step as she had been dashing across the room.
Marga's horror was complete then, for she found that she could still breathe, and could see-though only in the direction she had been staring, which had been right at her imposter-but she could not move a muscle otherwise. The woman could also hear, and Grozier was laughing. It made her blood run cold.
"Very nice, Bartimus, I must say," her brother said, chuckling, as he moved in front of Marga. "She looks quite humorous." Then he turned his attention away from his sister and toward her duplicate. "You know what to do," he said to the thing as he handed it something Marga could not see.
The creature nodded. "Yes," it replied. "She will die in her sleep, and no one will be the wiser."
"And you're certain you can get to her?" Grozier asked. "There is only one chance at this."
"Do not worry," Marga's double replied, altering its voice until it became the perfect likeness of her own. "I will reach the old woman without trouble or incident."
Grozier chuckled again. "Of course, I should never have doubted. Then off with you," he said.
The false Marga turned and departed.
Marga, frozen in place, wanted so desperately to scream.
Vambran felt an exposed bit of root jab him in the ribs as he tumbled across the ground, desperately dodging the gout of liquid vomited forth by the snake before him. The mercenary officer grunted in pain but refused to stop rolling, jumping to his feet several paces away from where he had originally been standing. The ground where he had been a moment before sizzled and hissed where the foul secretion landed, and he shuddered, imagining what it would have done if it had struck him.
Though he was intensely wary of the giant snake turning to pursue him, Vambran also had a thought in the back of his mind for the men coming behind him, the professional hunters who were tracking both him and his soldiers through the forest. His agitation that the trackers could catch up to the seven members of the Sapphire Crescent only made it more difficult to concentrate on the battle at hand
The snake lunged at Vambran, and he shifted his stance to one side and sliced with his sword at the creature's neck. The blow landed true, but the gouge he created was only a narrow furrow, the blade inhibited by the thick scales covering the reptile. Still, the snake did not like that one bit and hissed malevolently as it recoiled from him, swaying and watching its quarry with beady, frightening eyes that glowed in the dusk.
Vambran considered launching a spell that would blind the creature, one of his magical flares aimed right at the snake's eyes, but he dismissed the idea almost immediately, for he did not want to aid the men hunting the Crescents. Instead, he decided to conjure his magical swarm of coins. Reaching into his shirt as he backed away from the advancing snake, he produced his holy medallion and began to utter the words of a familiar prayer. Finishing the petition, he kissed the coin and felt the manifestation of magic form in front of him.
The clump of coins materialized in a low humming swarm, and with a thought, Vambran sent the buzzing cloud right at the snake's head. In the gathering darkness, it was growing more difficult to see clearly, but Vambran knew the cloud of coins struck true when the snake jerked and retreated, hissing and biting at nothing in particular. Maintaining his concentration on the holy weapon and driving it repeatedly at the snake's head, Vambran used the distraction to circle around to a better vantage point. The snake seemed to sense what the soldier was trying to do, though, because it turned several times to keep its foe in front of itself, but each time, Vambran was able to maneuver the swarm of stinging coins in for another round of vicious blows.
The snake lost interest in attacking the man and settled to the ground with the intention of fleeing. It slithered through the dried leaves, rushing away from the repeated stinging bites that it could not see nor retaliate against. Vambran maintained his magic for a few moments more, desiring to make certain that the snake truly fled, but once it was clear the beast was not going to return, he recalled the swarm and turned to see how his companions were faring.
Several snakes were down and lifeless, and the two remaining were badly bleeding. At least one of the mercenaries was also down, unmoving, and two others were writhing in agony, out of range of the battle. Vambran rushed to aid the soldiers, sending his cloud of coins toward the nearest snake.
As the holy weapon struck the serpent across one side of its head, the snake jerked and shifted its attention sideways, snapping at the air. The distraction gave Grolo the opportunity to leap close to the snake and swing his axe with both hands. The dwarf's aim was true, and he lopped the reptile's head completely off with that single blow, sending it bouncing away into the darkness. The snake's body began to buck and writhe haphazardly across the ground, leaking blood and other fluids as it did. Grolo jumped clear of the corpse as Vambran directed his magic at the last remaining snake.
That single opponent was clearly already in its death throes as Vambran's swarm of coins smacked it across the snout. The strike was enough to send it reeling to one side, toppling over into the leaves. Horial and Adyan closed in and finished off the creature.
Vambran turned to the three downed mercenaries. They all had suffered burns from the acid spit by the snakes, he realized. Filana and Burtis were alive but in terrible pain, but Elebrio did not move.
"Help them!" the lieutenant ordered his three sergeants as he bent down to check the youngest Crescent for signs of life. The acid had done its work too well, though, for most of Elebrio's face was nothing but raw, red flesh, his features scoured by the burning acid. As Vambran suspected, the youthful soldier did not breathe.
No pain for you, at least, Vambran thought sorrowfully.
The mercenary officer knew he could not waste a moment grieving for the young man, though, and went over to see what aid he could give the other two wounded soldiers. Both Filana and Burtis were sitting up by then, while the sergeants applied a healing salve to the worst of their burns.
"Elebrio's dead," Vambran said. "Acid got him squarely in the face, it appears."
"Aye," Grolo grumbled as he handed a waterskin over to Filana. "The boy jumped right into the middle of the fight, though," the dwarf said. "Never backed down from the snake for a moment. He would have made a fine soldier."
"We have to get moving," Vambran said, changing the subject. "There are trackers on our trail, hunting us down even as we speak. It won't take them long to find us, with the kind of noise we just made.
"Adyan, strip Elebrio's body of anything useful and bury him in leaves. We can't dig a grave, but we can at least make it a little harder for the bloodhounds to figure out what happened."