" I can resist," Lan said forcefully. " My skills are improving. I might need to hone them a bit before taking on Claybore, but I can prevent him from fooling me with those nightmare creatures."
Even as he spoke, a man- headed python slithered forward. Lan laughed and concentrated on seeing only " reality." The python creature kept coming.
" Krek!" cried Lan in panic.
" I see nothing," came the slow words from the spider. " Claybore attacks only you. You are his worst enemy now. Fight him, Lan Martak, fight him!"
No matter how Lan concentrated, the python- man refused to vanish back into the nothingness from which he came. The best Lan did was cause the image to waver slightly, as if a wall of heated air danced between them. Lan couldn' t deny the creature' s existence and make it vanish, so he changed tactics. He tried to project an image of his own.
For the span of a heartbeat, a giant condor flapped above the python, talons seeking out a grip on a potential dinner. Lan shuddered and dropped to his knees, weakened by the effort. The python creature remained; his condor had vanished.
" If it' s not there, it can' t hurt me," he said. The python struck- through him.
" Lan Martak, what is happening? You appear pale and drawn."
" This is a battle of wits, and I' m almost out of ammunition," he told his friend. " Let' s hurry and catch up with Abasi- Abi. I hope he can help me."
" I shall gather up Ehznoll. He still prays to his gods of the earth."
The tattered pilgrim knelt some distance away from the silent battlefield, praying, chanting, going through rituals that made no sense to either human or spider. Lan watched and marvelled. For Ehznoll life was simple. Pray, be answered or not, have faith. No matter that experience put the lie to what he claimed. Belief triumphed continually.
Lan Martak had to put the faith in himself and his own abilities if he wanted to survive. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore a giant spinning turtle with fire leaping from its shell.
" At last," he panted. The breathing device aided him greatlywithout it Lan wouldn' t have lasted ten minutes- but it didn' t provide all the oxygen he needed.
" It is indeed Abasi- Abi and the others," confirmed the spider.
" Praise be!" cried Ehznoll. " Just in time to join them for vespers." The pilgrim raced forward to be with Melira and the others of his group. He had harangued all day long about converting Lan to his earth religion, then shifted in the last minutes to telling how he intended to proselytize those men with Abasi- Abi.
" I certainly agree. Praise be- that he' s out of my hearing."
Lan had scant chance for quiet. Abasi- Abi stalked over and stood before him, hands on hips and face like a mountain storm.
" Where have you been?"
" That' s an interesting question from someone who tried to strand Ehznoll and me at the bottom of a crevasse. You deserted us!" Lan took a step forward and felt a blow to the chest, the twin of the one Abasi- Abi had given him before. This time his rage alone nullified the burning impact. He grabbed the sorcerer by the collar and lifted until the old man' s toes barely touched the ground. He shook him hard.
" Put me down!"
" I ought to throw you over the cliff!"
" Put me down!"
Lan did, but not because Abasi- Abi commanded it. Behind, he saw a giant snow leopard. The creature made no sound. Its smoothly flowing muscles brought it closer, ever closer. The tiny red eyes poured out nothing but pure hatred. It reared, pawed the air with claws fully six inches long, then padded closer.
The sorcerer turned and looked, then faced Lan.
" He' s doing this. Why didn' t you tell me he was doing this to you?" The mage' s fury washed over Lan like an avalanche. He felt cold and buried and cut off from the world. When hot winds slashed at his face, he cowered back. Abasi- Abi' s rage mounted. No longer did Lan worry about the puny visions sent by Claybore. Abasi- Abi held his full attention, presented immediate danger. Krek had been right about Claybore; that sorcerer' s power was stunted.
Abasi- Abi was near, mad, powerful.
Lan fell to his knees under the flame winds charring his flesh. The snow evaporated around him, became fog, then boiled away. Squinting at the sorcerer, all the man saw was a ball of incandescent gas. He tried to call out, to beg Krek for aid; then something snapped inside his head.
Krek wasn' t the one to ask for aid. The firestorm raging would ignite his furry legs and incinerate the spider in a second. Lan had to fight this battle himself.
He fought. He fought as hard as he could, with the few tools at his disposal. His own pyromancy spell was pathetic in comparison with the ones used by Abasi- Abi, yet it was all he had. Healing chants worked too slowly, and there wasn' t any obvious way of using them to combat the tide of magic sweeping over him.
Lan lifted thumb and forefinger, set up the bright blue flame leaping from one to the other. Enough for starting campfires, but not enough to counter the flames devouring him. He closed his eyes and imagined the tiny flame high overhead, working against the leading edge of a snowbank, melting the underpinnings of half a mountain of snow.
A deep rumbling sound shocked Lan out of his trance. His minuscule flame died.
Both he and Abasi- Abi were caught under an avalanche of snow brought down from the side of the mountain. The wash of snow extinguished the sorcerer' s spell even as it buried him. Lan turned and arched his back, trapping a small amount of air even as more snow thundered down off the mountain. When the rumblings stopped, Lan was trapped in his tiny snow prison.
" What now?" he asked himself. The air came stale and choking, even with the magical breathing aid.
As he spoke, the answer presented itself. He' d used his pyromancy to bring down the snow, he could also use it to remove the snow. With a snap of his fingers, flame jumped from finger to finger. Like a knife slicing through water, he cored out a tunnel to daylight.
The last rays of the setting sun caught him fully in the face as he emerged.
Abasi- Abi had already burned his way out of the snowbank, but the brief snow bath had cooled his ire.
" We need to speak," was all the sorcerer said.
Lan helped the others free of the snow, glad that none had been hurt as a result of his tentative magics.
" You do more than sense magic," accused the sorcerer. Abasi- Abi sat beside the small campfire across from Lan, peering at him as if he had sprouted wings and horns.
" A few minor spells, that' s all."
" Minor," scoffed the mage. " Hardly. The first blast of flame should have cindered you."
" I was lucky."
" No one is lucky against me. More powerful, yes, but not lucky. From the first I sensed in you a power, a different sort of power. Inexplicably, it continues to grow. You are maturing into a mage of considerable power; such a transformation normally takes years." In a more wistful tone, he added, " With me it took even longer."
" All I can do is the single pyromancy spell and some small healing spells."
" You ward off magics too well for those to be your only power."
Lan considered this. He had been able to break free of Nashira' s spell in Melitarsus, while Krek had failed. And he' d done well enough against Claybore' s army of visions; they hadn' t harmed him even if they did frighten him with their apparent reality.
" Still, you helped me," Lan said.
" What? When?"
" Back when we' d first met. Claybore came to me in that vision. The ruby beams from his eye sockets reached out for me and you turned them aside."
" What!"
The sorcerer' s shriek brought the entire camp awake. Seeing nothing menacing, they slowly turned over and went back to sleep, mumbling about the unwonted disturbance.