To his astonishment, Agis saw that the voices came from a pair of heads sitting on a shadowy shelf. He grabbed a steel sword and started to approach the abominations, but Tithian laid a hand on the noble’s shoulder and restrained him.
“What are they?” Agis asked.
“Kalak’s friends,” the high templar answered. “The last time I was here, they called me a snake-faced runt.”
“That was Sacha!” objected Wyan. “I wouldn’t blame you if you left him to starve.”
“Ignore them. They’re harmless, as long as you don’t get too close.” Tithian used his toe to nudge the desiccated body of a half-giant. It fell apart like a wasp’s nest. “What caused this?”
Sadira motioned to one of the obsidian globes. “Kalak drained their life away,” she said.
Tithian’s eyes lit up, and he retrieved one of the ebony balls. “Show me how to use it, and I’ll-”
“Not in a hundred years-even if that were the way dragon magic worked,” Sadira said.
The templar frowned. “Dragon magic?”
“Obsidian isn’t magical, it’s just a tool. Like any tool, it’s only as powerful as the person using it,” the sorceress explained, echoing the words Nok had used to explain the properties of the glassy rock. “To a hunter, it’s just a knife or an arrowhead. To a dragon, it’s a lens that converts life-force into magic-but you’ll never use it for that.”
“Why not?” Tithian demanded, motioning at Sadira’s cane. “You are.”
The half-elf shook her head. “The spells are in the cane. It draws the energy through the pommel, not me,” she said, her tone somewhat regretful. “Dragon magic relies on psionics and sorcery together. To use it you must be a master of pulling energy from your body and a genius at shaping it into spells. It’s the most difficult kind of sorcery, but it’s also the most powerful.”
“And the more time we spend here, the more powerful Kalak becomes,” Agis said, unsheathing the ancient sword he had taken from the shelf. “I suggest we get on with it.”
Neeva selected a great steel-bladed axe from the vault’s shelves. “I’m ready.”
Pointing at the hole in the floor, Tithian noted, “That leads to an obsidian-lined tunnel. The tunnel opens into the lower chamber of the ziggurat. I suspect that’s where you’ll find Kalak.”
“You mean we,” Rikus said flatly. He took a curved sword from the shelf and handed it to Tithian. “If you’re going to be a king, start acting the part.”
“Kings don’t risk their lives-”
“You’ll be a new kind of king,” Agis said, prodding the high templar forward.
Rikus gripped the Heartwood Spear; they had found the weapon lying on the King’s Balcony, where the-half giants had left it in their hurry to move Kalak into his palace. “I’ll take the lead. Nok said the spear would protect me against magic and the Way. Hide behind me, and I’ll be your shield.”
Neeva went next, followed by Tithian, then Agis, with Sadira behind him. As he dropped into the hole, the senator gasped at the eerily beautiful sight ahead of the group. They stood in a gloomy tunnel lined by bricks of obsidian. A half-dozen paces ahead, a sparkling stream of golden energy poured from an overhead shaft and flowed down the passage with a hiss. At the far end, the light passed upward through another trap door. From that opening shone a vermilion glow threaded with thin wisps of scarlet mist. A horrid, deep-throated growl came from the room above and throbbed down the tunnel.
Holding the Heartwood Spear in both hands, Rikus led the way toward the other end of the passage. He did not even pause before stepping into the golden stream of radiance, an act Agis thought to be a little foolhardy.
As Agis and the others followed Rikus into the light, their skin crawled with a ticklish, pleasant feeling. Tithian’s long braid of auburn hair rose into the air and began to writhe in a sort of macabre dance. The noble sensed his own unbound locks doing the same. Otherwise, the companions suffered no ill effects. Agis even felt somewhat invigorated.
They had moved most of the way through the tunnel when Rikus cried, “Look out!” He shifted his grip on the Heartwood Spear, holding it diagonally across his body.
At the far end of the passage, a clawed hand as large as a half giant’s dangled from the open trap door. The gnarled fingers made a series of gestures and pointed at the companions. Without warning, a ball of green flame crackled down the passageway. Neeva and Tithian hid behind Rikus, and Agis huddled as close to them as he could. Sadira pressed her body against his back.
As the fireball washed over him, everything in Agis’s vision turned green and warped as if underwater. For a moment it seemed as though they were all trapped in a molten emerald. Then the air itself rushed from Agis’s chest, and he could not breathe. Where another person’s body did not protect him, he felt as if his skin were being seared over a bed of coals. At last, almost against his will, he drew a long, deep breath. His lungs exploded with scalding pain, making him gag. The fiery air contained a horrible, caustic fume that made his eyes water and burned his stomach as badly as it scorched his lungs.
An instant later, the fireball passed. The hand still dangled from the opening, gesturing in preparation for another spell. Rikus lifted the spear to throw, but stopped when Sadira cried Nok’s name and activated her cane.
Agis ducked and pulled Tithian down beside him. Everyone else had sense enough to crouch on their own.
“Mountainbolt!” Sadira cried.
A deafening boom shook the tunnel, and a sapphire flash streaked over Agis’s head. It struck the hand and exploded into a dazzling spray of blue-white sparks. Shreds of flesh and bone flew in all directions. An inhuman howl reverberated down the tunnel.
Rikus took off at a sprint, leaving the others standing behind him, astonished at his boldness. As the mul reached the end of the passageway, Kalak reached down with his other hand to grasp the trap door. The hand glowed with bright crimson light, and wet, soft scales covered it.
Before the king could pull the door closed, Rikus thrust the spear through the hand. Another howl, not quite as pained as the last, rolled down the passageway. The hand withdrew, dripping black blood. Kalak sent a cloud of yellow gas billowing through the door. The mul stumbled back to his companions, coughing and gasping for breath. Before the cloud reached the others it was carried back toward the king by the golden stream of energy coming from the shaft behind Sadira and the others.
“Quick thinking, Rikus,” Agis said, still wheezing from the effects of the green fireball. “I don’t know what we’d have done if Kalak had closed the door.”
The mul acknowledged the compliment with a grunt, then asked, “Anyone hurt? You all look pretty rough.”
Agis noticed that the fireball had burned away the robe on his arms and legs. The exposed skin was red, with white blisters forming in several places. Tithian was in much the same condition, as were the two women.
“We’re fine, Rikus,” Neeva said. “Get on with it.”
The mul led the way to the end of the corridor, then looked up at the narrow opening. “We can’t all go up at once.”
“I’ll lead the way,” Agis offered, stepping past Tithian and Neeva. “With both hands injured, Kalak won’t be casting many spells or fighting with weapons. That leaves the Way, my area of expertise.”
Rikus nodded. “You’re right,” he said, holding the spear out.
Agis shook his head. “We can’t afford the risk that I’ll lose it,” he said. “I can hold him long enough for the next person, even without the spear.”
“That makes sense, but-”
“I can do this, Rikus,” insisted Agis.
The mul regarded him for a moment, then nodded. “If you say so.” He leaned the spear against his shoulder and formed a stirrup with his hands.
Before Agis stepped into it, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. “Be careful,” Sadira said.
Smiling, the nobleman handed Sadira the sword he had taken from Kalak’s treasure vault. Rikus gave Agis a boost, and he shot up into the secret chamber.