But she sensed nothing. Rol’s presence was gone from this mindscape.
Still, she reached out mentally, tried to find a spark, a presence-something that might have remained of Rol within.
Rol-it’s Feena. Please tell me there’s something here. Tell me that some part of you is hanging on.
“… go away …”
The voice was small, faint-Feena barely heard it. It was cloaked in agony and despair and loss.
But it was definitely Rol.
Listen to me, Rol, I can help you.
“I’m beyond help. Just let me die in peace.”
In truth, he was very close to that. His last spark of consciousness was flickering and dying. A few more moments and it would be too late.
And even the tiniest spark could be fanned into a flame.
We’re here fighting for you, Rol. Me and Komir and Karalith-Zabaj is fighting the creature you’ve turned into. And Gan’s been here all along trying to save you.
“I can’t be saved, Feena. There is no Rol Mandred anymore, there’s just the Voidharrow.” The voice grew louder, but the despair thickened.
So you’re just going to give up?
“What choice do I have?”
Feena was suddenly furious. I guess you’re right-there is no Rol Mandred. Because the Rol I know, the Rol that my brother pledged his lifelong friendship to, would never give up without a fight.
“How can I fight myself?” A glimmer of hope started to shine through.
You can take back control of your own body. I can help you.
“It’s no use, Feena. It’s not even my body anymore.” The hope started to weaken, and the voice grew faint again.
You can at least try to stop it from causing further harm. Zabaj and Gan and I are trying to fight it. You can help us.
“Gan’s here?” The hope came through more clearly then. “He’s still alive?”
Yes, and fighting for you.
A pause.
“What do you need me to do?”
Feena thought for a moment. I can give you a mental boost-it might be enough to give you physical control of at least a small part of the creature.
“All right.”
Determination pierced through the veil of despair, fanning the flames of Rol’s consciousness. Feena diverted some of her power into Rol, hoping that what she took from Drahar could be spared.
She felt Rol concentrate on his right arm, thinking about all the things he did with it: punching people, holding knives, putting it around pretty women, eating fine food, eating bad food, eating that fantastic jerky, drinking far too much ale, and throwing open doors to make dramatic entrances.
Feena found herself learning a bit more about Rol than she expected just from that …
Rol flexed his fingers-and the fingers of the creature moved.
On its right hand, at least. Its left hand smashed into Zabaj’s stomach.
The creature’s voice then came from everywhere at once. You are a fool, Rol Mandred. Are you truly so deluded that you believe you can defeat me?
“I’d say I’m exactly that deluded, yeah.” After saying that, Rol made the creature punch himself in the nose.
Zabaj chose that moment to return the creature’s favor by punching it in the stomach in the real world at the same time that Feena and Drahar both started to strangle him on the blue earthen floor.
Rol tried to expand his influence beyond that right arm, but found himself being beaten down by the creature.
Feena poured more of her own abilities into Drahar. With them hitting the creature on three different fronts-the two of them magically, Rol mentally, and Zabaj physically-they stood a chance.
At least, Feena had to hope that.
Drahar probably felt that thought, because he then said to her, “There’s only one thing we can do, and we must do it now.”
In her mind’s eye, she could see the spell he would need to cast, which Drahar shared with her through their mental link.
“It will kill him,” Feena said, “and possibly us and Zabaj as well.”
“Violence makes it more powerful. The longer this fight continues, the worse our position becomes. And Mandred’s final echo of consciousness won’t last much longer. Once it finally expires, we’ll die.”
Feena knew Drahar was right, for all that she wanted him to be wrong. Time was their biggest enemy right then.
“Let’s do it,” she said, wishing that there was some way that she could say good-bye to Zabaj and to Gan.
Komir and Barglin were pulling Gan’s broken form out from under the rocks-he was still breathing, thankfully-when suddenly there was a fierce glow that was brighter than the sun.
Komir shielded his eyes as Rol, Feena, Drahar, and Zabaj-who had joined the fracas while Komir and the dwarf were rescuing Gan-were enveloped in it.
But he couldn’t just see the light, he could feel it. The brightness seemed to actually touch his mind.
That was when Komir realized that it was probably the most powerful burst of mind-magic he’d ever encountered.
After a few seconds that seemed to take forever, the light faded, dimming into nothingness.
Three bodies were left lying on the stone floor staring up at the ceiling, and a mul who was blinking furiously.
“What just happened?” Barglin asked.
“Damned if I know,” Komir muttered. “You all right, Zabaj?”
“Feena.” Zabaj kneeled down beside her.
Barglin hefted Gan over his shoulder. “I’ll take care of him. You help the mul.”
“Thanks.”
Smiling, the dwarf said, “Gan was okay to me. And he was kinda funny, plus he cared about his friend. You don’t see that every day.”
Nodding, Komir walked over to see both Feena and Drahar lying on the floor, staring blankly up at the ceiling. They both breathed shallowly, but they showed no signs of consciousness. He waved his hands over Feena’s eyes, and she didn’t blink.
The monster was not breathing. In fact, the strange red stones that protruded from its shoulders were starting to crack and shatter and fall to the floor as powder.
“Damn,” Komir muttered.
Komir stared at the body in the hopes that it might change back to the familiar form of Rol-but it stayed as the strange monster.
Then he walked over to Zabaj, who was cradling the shell-shocked Feena in his arms, stroking her cheek with his oversized hand. “C’mon, Zabaj, we need to get out of here.”
The mul didn’t move.
Putting his hand on his friend’s wide shoulder, Komir said more forcefully, “Zabaj-we have to go.”
Zabaj looked up at Komir as if he had no idea who the half-elf was. Then he looked down at Feena again, nodded, and stood up.
Leaving Drahar’s body behind, they departed, Komir leading the way, Barglin carrying Gan, Zabaj carrying Feena.
They passed the bodies of several soldiers, as well as the pulped remains of the mind-mages who’d come with Rol.
“I can’t believe Drahar actually thought he might be able to control that thing,” Komir said with a shudder.
“He paid the price for thinking that,” Zabaj said.
“Yeah. C’mon, Karalith and Tricht’tha should be waiting for us at the carriage. We need to be out of Urik as soon as we can.”
Gan didn’t feel very good.
He woke up to find himself lying in a hammock that was rocking back and forth. Below him, several items were secured with straps, and looking over, he saw two older people asleep on another hammock.
After a second, he recognized them as Torthal and Shira Serthlara, the owners of the emporium.
It would seem he was rescued.
“You’re awake.” It was Karalith who spoke the words, and Gan looked down to see her standing in the middle of the carriage, her palm against one of the boxes of goods for balance.