Then he was in the air. He clutched at the woman, and as sense and memory came flooding back, he recognized Lakashtai. He almost let go of her, but they were ten feet off the ground and rising quickly, and reflex made him tighten his grip.
Within seconds they had risen to the level of the glass catwalk. Though the pain was no worse, Daine’s neck was still in agony; the cracked skin ached with every motion, but he couldn’t afford to give into the pain. The guard had seen them, and she was already raising her crossbow.
Summoning all his strength, Daine let go of Lakashtai and shoved her, using the force to fling himself backward onto the catwalk. Even as the dark elf leveled her weapon, Daine was tumbling toward her. He felt a flash of pain as the quarrel grazed his back, tearing a furrow across a shoulder-blade, but then he was upon her. The elf was small and quick, her black skin crisscrossed with spiraling flame tattoos, and she dropped her crossbow and grabbed at her sword as Daine rose up before her, but she wasn’t fast enough. Daine slammed into her, throwing all his rage and pain into one mighty blow. She fell back, struggled to find her balance-and failed. She spun off the edge of the catwalk, and disappeared into the massive wall of flame that stretched out below.
“That’s what you get when you play with fire,” Daine muttered, as the scream faded.
Daine, quickly! Toward me! Lakashtai’s thought forced its way through his mind. We don’t have long!
She was right. The wall of flame had been a deadly threat-but it had also served to shield their actions from view. The battle had drawn the attention of Gerrion and the others, and if Gerrion’s archery wasn’t threat enough, Daine was certain the old priest could bring magic to bear.
The thought proved all too prophetic. Even as Daine turned toward Lakashtai, he heard the old elf calling out to the powers of flame. Daine threw himself forward as a pillar of fire struck the platform behind him, melting the space he had been standing on.
Quickly! Lakashtai was standing thirty feet further down the bridge, her neck swathed in a halo of golden light. A drow soldier was charging at her with his spear lowered, but the kalashtar raised her hand and stood her ground. A cone of sparkling green light blazed forth from her palm, and the elf staggered back and fell; as Daine drew closer, he saw that each sparkling light had been a shard of crystal, and this storm of glass had shredded the flesh of the unfortunate elf.
“Hold tight,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him once more.
This time Daine could see clearly, and for a moment he found it strangely difficult to obey the command, but she was holding on to him, and as she began to rise into the air reflex took over and locked her in his arms.
Lakashtai had brought them beneath one of the gaping holes in the ceiling, and now they rose up and out of the chamber. The roof was surprisingly thick, but a moment later they were out in open air, gazing out across the orange and red canopy of the jungle. From this perspective, the castle was a ruin. The battlements were uneven, the towers were shattered, and there were a dozen holes in the roof, but as old and damaged as it was, there was one thing that truly stood out: it was on fire.
The entire fortress was built from obsidian, and the outermost walls were brilliant orange. The heat was even worse that the wall of flame. The roof around them looked like it might actually be molten; Daine couldn’t see what was keeping it from flowing down into the chambers below.
For a moment they hung there, just above the burning castle.
“What are you waiting for?” Daine whispered. His neck ached, and he was all too aware of the pit below them. “Let’s go!”
“It is not that simple,” Lakashtai replied, studying the molten glass. “It is a trivial matter to move across the vertical axis, but horizontal motion is-”
“Just do something!”
“Lift up your feet.”
“What?”
Do it! The thought was a command, and the next thing he knew, Daine’s feet were wrapped tightly around Lakashtai’s waist. To his utter surprise, she actually closed her eyes … and charged forward into the glass.
The roof was just as hot as it appeared, and her feet sunk deep into the molten surface. She should have been burnt to ash, but instead, there was a flash of light.
The shield!
It seemed that the mental field she had created to protect against the collar extended across her entire body. As Daine watched, she pulled her foot free and took another step forward. Her feet were surrounded by a blinding radiance, as the heat of the molten glass was transformed into pure light. Step by step, Lakashtai pulled them across the boiling roof, until they finally reached the edge of the wall.
“One moment more,” Lakashtai said, her voice barely a whisper.
She had opened her eyes, and for the moment the serene mask of the kalashtar had fallen; her face was filled with pain and pure determination. She stepped off the edge of the shattered battlement, and they fell toward the earth.
Seconds later they hit the ground. Lakashtai’s powers held to the last second, but as soon as they touched soil she released Daine and fell forward. She would have collapsed if he hadn’t caught her by the shoulders to steady her.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Let me carry you.”
He swept her off her feet and ran for the cover of the foliage. Behind him, he could hear sentries calling out in the musical tongue of the elves, but he didn’t stop to try to decipher the meaning, and a moment later he was hidden in the cool darkness of the jungle.
The next hour was a blur as they forced their way deeper into the jungle. Daine didn’t even try to find a path; he just tumbled recklessly forward, trying to put as much distance as he could between them and the burning castle. He plunged on, struggling to ignore his aching muscles and the collar of seared flesh around his neck, but he could only stay ahead of the pain for so long. Eventually he stumbled and collapsed to the ground, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Relax. Lakashtai was fighting to catch her breath, but she had at least regained her mental composure. We can afford a moment’s rest. She reached up and touched the leather collar. Daine saw a flash of emerald light around her fingers, and a new bolt of agony shot through his nerves. When his vision cleared again, Lakashtai was holding the collar in one hand. The leather had been cleanly severed.
I’m sorry, she thought. I needed to cut it loose before my shield failed.
Beneath the collar, Lakashtai’s neck was a mass of charred skin and burnt muscle; it looked every bit as bad as Daine felt. He touched his own skin and winced in pain-but as bad as it felt, he didn’t seem to have the physical injuries he saw on Lakashtai … just the pain. As he watched, Lakashtai raised her hands and wrapped them around her neck; she closed her eyes for a moment, and when she removed her hands, the wounds were gone, her skin fresh and unblemished, but he felt exactly the same, his skin throbbing with the imagined burns.
“I wish I could take the pain back from you,” she said, opening her eyes, “but I can only perform such adjustments on my own flesh. We would not have escaped without your courage and strength, and I hope you can bear this torture a little longer.”
“I’m fine,” Daine said, trying to keep his voice steady.
She took his hand, and for that moment, at least, the pain seemed to fade. “You saved my life, Daine. I will not forget that.”
Her gaze was intense, and Daine forced himself to look away. “I’d say that we both did our share of saving.”
She placed her hand on his cheek, slowly turning his face back toward hers. Her hair was disheveled, and there was blood and ash on her face, but her eyes were brilliant jewels. “Daine-”