At that moment, movement caught Shanhaevel’s eye, and he jerked his head around in time to see the elf woman dropping down from high up on one wall, her sword raised and ready to plunge between Shirral’s shoulders. Shanhaevel opened his mouth to shout, but it happened too fast, and he watched the blade ram into the druid’s back.
“No!” Shanhaevel cried out as Shirral crumpled to the ground. He was running in the direction of the attacker before he even realized it, his staff raised. The elf woman, standing over Shirral, turned and smiled malevolently at Shanhaevel before winking out of sight once more.
Forgetting the woman, Shanhaevel dropped to his knees next to Shirral, who lay facedown. He gently rolled her over, even though his heart was pounding.
Shirral was still breathing, but her whole body was limp. Her eyes were glazed and stared dully at nothing in particular. Shanhaevel cradled her head in his arms, fighting back the tears. There is still time, his mind screamed at him. Don’t let her die!
“Govin!” The wizard cried out. “Shirral needs you!”
The other three men had moved in and surrounded the fallen druid. Their backs to her, they stood guard in case the invisible assassin attempted to strike again. Upon hearing his name, Govin stepped back into the circle of protection and knelt, opposite Shanhaevel.
“It’s bad,” Shanhaevel said, still holding Shirral. “We’re losing her.”
“Let me see,” the knight said, pulling Shirral in his direction and rolling her over on her stomach.
The wound between her shoulders was jagged, long, and deep. Shanhaevel shuddered as he peered down, sickened by the sight of the exposed bone visible in the gash. It looked as if the druid’s spine had been severed in the blow.
“I’ll do what I can,” Govin said, and he closed his eyes. He placed his hands upon the wound, heedless of the blood, and uttered a prayer to Saint Cuthbert.
As the knight prayed, Shanhaevel heard a door open. Looking up, he saw a man, dressed similarly to himself, step through one of the portals and into the room. The man began to gesticulate, his fingers weaving a complicated pattern in the air. Another wizard!
“Don’t stop,” Shanhaevel whispered to the knight, then he stood up, still watching the man’s motions, trying to discern the nature of the spell he was casting.
Upon seeing the man enter the hallway, Elmo and Draga took a halting step or two away from their companions, but they both seemed reluctant to leave their posts. Shanhaevel realized the wizard opposite him was taking advantage of that, standing seemingly unprotected out in the open while casting.
“Hold fast,” Shanhaevel muttered under his breath, resisting his own urge to dive out of the way of whatever magic was about to erupt in their direction. “Let Govin finish his healing, and then we can deal with the mage.”
Whatever magic the wizard was conjuring, Shanhaevel did not recognize it. When the spell was finished, a faintly shimmering globe of energy appeared around the wizard, slightly distorting his image. Immediately, the wizard began a second spell.
“What’s he doing?” Draga asked. His wide eyes darted back and forth, watching for the invisible attacker but not wanting to turn away from the wizard. He sheathed his sword, slid his bow free from his shoulder, and nocked an arrow. Drawing it back, he took aim at the wizard. “Shanhaevel? Should I?”
Shanhaevel nodded. “Yes,” he answered. “Disrupt the spell.”
He spoke a moment too late, for the other wizard completed his second casting, and suddenly there were five of him, all standing in the midst of the shimmering globe of magic. At the very same instant, the elf woman appeared next to Draga, swinging her sword at the bowman’s weapon. The sudden arrival startled Draga, who loosed his arrow a moment before the assassin’s strike snapped his bow in two. The arrow clattered harmlessly off the wall.
Elmo leaped across the distance, attacking the woman with his axe. This time, the elf woman had no chance to invoke her invisibility. All of her energy was consumed in defending herself from the blows of the huge axeman. Struggling to deflect the powerful swings aimed at her, the woman slowly fell back, desperately using her own blade to ward off the blows.
“Falrinth!” she shrieked, backpedaling. “Do something!”
Draga had tossed aside his ruined bow, drawn his sword, and was now advancing on the multiple images of the wizard. The wizard hastily cast again.
At that moment, Shirral cried out, and Shanhaevel spun around to look at the druid. Govin still knelt over her, his hands bloody, but it appeared that he had finished his prayer of healing. Shirral, still facedown, was writhing in pain, her fingers clawing at the coarse stone floor.
“By the Mother!” she howled as she rolled to her side, rocking back and forth. “It hurts so much! Oh, it hurts!”
“What’s wrong with her?” Shanhaevel demanded as he dropped down beside Govin.
“I mended her as much as I could, but all I really managed to do was keep her from dying. She’s still badly wounded.”
“I can take care of her,” Shanhaevel said. “Go help Draga and Elmo.”
Govin hesitated, looking at the wizard, then nodded and rose to his feet. He took an instant to survey both situations and then moved to join Draga.
Let’s just hope we don’t have any more invisible friends about, Shanhaevel thought as he fished through Shirral’s pack.
When he found another of the vials they had recovered, he carefully uncorked it. At his knees, Shirral was groaning softly, still sprawled on her side. Her eyes were shut, and a sheen of perspiration coated her face. Shanhaevel inhaled a whiff of the elixir and caught the scent of cinnamon and ash. He reached down and coaxed Shirral into a sitting position.
“Come on, drink this,” he said, helping the druid to rise. “I know it hurts. Easy, just drink this and you’ll feel better.”
Shirral grunted and clenched her teeth. Slowly, awkwardly, she sat up. The druid opened her mouth and, as Shanhaevel poured the contents, she drank down the entire potion. When the bottle was empty, Shanhaevel watched for the effect of the magic.
A soft blue glow began to emanate from Shirral’s body. She closed her eyes again, but this time, there seemed to be a look of peace rather than of pain on her face. When the glow subsided, Shirral opened her eyes again and looked at her companion.
“Feel better?” Shanhaevel asked.
Shirral nodded and smiled, her icy blue eyes twinkling. “Yes,” she said. “Thank you.”
The tone of her voice made Shanhaevel glow, for it resonated with heartfelt affection.
“Come on,” Shanhaevel said, rising and helping Shirral to stand, as well. “We have a mess on our hands.”
Together, they got to their feet and observed the battles taking place around them. Elmo had managed to press the elf woman down the length of the hallway, while Draga and Govin were desperately trying to attack the wizard whom the assassin had called Falrinth. Unfortunately, the elven woman had just managed to disappear again, and Draga and Govin were having little luck determining which image of the wizard was the real one, although they had succeeded in reducing the number from five down to three. Shanhaevel could tell, also, that Falrinth was casting another spell.
“Listen,” Shanhaevel said, turning to Shirral. “We can defeat that wizard if we can get rid of Miss Invisible beforehand.”
“Besides a few healing spells, I only have a couple of tricks left that might be useful,” Shirral answered, “but I have to know where she is first.”
“I have a spell that just might work,” Shanhaevel replied. “Get ready.”
He called up the magical energies easily, gesturing and waiting for the spell to take effect. When he was done, the view before his eyes changed substantially. He now saw manifestations of magic all about him, auras radiating from different places throughout the T-shaped intersection where the company fought.