JК
The Wizardwar :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 99 из 208"Do you think the Crinti was telling the truth about Kiva? Is she still alive?"
Andris sighed. "I don't know what to think. The spells cast during the invasion were right out of Akhlaur's spell-book. Few living wizards could cast them. To my thinking, the possibility of Akhlaur's return indicated that Kiva died in the Plane of Water. But Shanair spoke of Kiva as if her survival was a fact we both knew. She had no reason to lie to me."
Another tremor shuddered through the clearing. "Another rockslide," groaned Themo, eying the distance between the jordaini and their recent shelter.
"Worse than that," Matteo pointed to the center of the clearing. Cracks splintered the hard-packed ground, revealing glimpses of several strange items that had been dislodged by the tremor-a cat-headed statue carved in jade, a sword hilt forged from crimson metal, a strangely shaped rod.
"This is a natural site of power, made stronger by those hidden artifacts. Wizards use ritual to focus magic, but this is not the only way of doing so. Sometimes magic can be triggered by other strong energies."
"Like an avalanche," Iago said.
Themo nudged the discarded crossbow with his foot, then sent a sidelong glance at Andris. "Seemed like a good idea at the time, did it?"
Andris wasn't listening. He stared at the strange circle of light dawning in the clearing. It erupted in a sudden brilliant flare, then faded.
In its place stood a monstrous creature, easily twice Themo's height. Exaggerated elven ears slashed upward, framing a hideous green-scaled face. Living eels writhed about the monster's head, their tiny, fanged jaws snapping. Four massive arms flexed, making the monster look like a mutated wrestler preparing for attack. Each of the four hands sported curved talons as deadly as daggers. Thick, greenish hide armored the monster, and slightly luminous drool dripped from its bared fangs.
The monster's black eyes settled upon the stunned jordaini, and it threw back its head and let out a shrieking howl that spanned the spectrum of sound, at the same time a thunderous grumble and a raptor's shriek.
"Holy mother of Mystra," breathed Themo.
Iago drew his weapons. "Few men are granted their wishes. You wanted to fight the laraken."
"Obviously, I lied."
Despite his jest, the big jordain was pale as death. Matteo remembered Themo's recently confessed doubts about his worthiness as a warrior. Yet Themo pulled his sword and shouldered his smaller comrades aside, rushing in to take the first slashing blow of the laraken's claws. The other jordaini followed close behind.
Andris sighed. "I don't know what to think. The spells cast during the invasion were right out of Akhlaur's spell-book. Few living wizards could cast them. To my thinking, the possibility of Akhlaur's return indicated that Kiva died in the Plane of Water. But Shanair spoke of Kiva as if her survival was a fact we both knew. She had no reason to lie to me."
Another tremor shuddered through the clearing. "Another rockslide," groaned Themo, eying the distance between the jordaini and their recent shelter.
"Worse than that," Matteo pointed to the center of the clearing. Cracks splintered the hard-packed ground, revealing glimpses of several strange items that had been dislodged by the tremor-a cat-headed statue carved in jade, a sword hilt forged from crimson metal, a strangely shaped rod.
"This is a natural site of power, made stronger by those hidden artifacts. Wizards use ritual to focus magic, but this is not the only way of doing so. Sometimes magic can be triggered by other strong energies."
"Like an avalanche," Iago said.
Themo nudged the discarded crossbow with his foot, then sent a sidelong glance at Andris. "Seemed like a good idea at the time, did it?"
Andris wasn't listening. He stared at the strange circle of light dawning in the clearing. It erupted in a sudden brilliant flare, then faded.
In its place stood a monstrous creature, easily twice Themo's height. Exaggerated elven ears slashed upward, framing a hideous green-scaled face. Living eels writhed about the monster's head, their tiny, fanged jaws snapping. Four massive arms flexed, making the monster look like a mutated wrestler preparing for attack. Each of the four hands sported curved talons as deadly as daggers. Thick, greenish hide armored the monster, and slightly luminous drool dripped from its bared fangs.
The monster's black eyes settled upon the stunned jordaini, and it threw back its head and let out a shrieking howl that spanned the spectrum of sound, at the same time a thunderous grumble and a raptor's shriek.
"Holy mother of Mystra," breathed Themo.
Iago drew his weapons. "Few men are granted their wishes. You wanted to fight the laraken."
"Obviously, I lied."
Despite his jest, the big jordain was pale as death. Matteo remembered Themo's recently confessed doubts about his worthiness as a warrior. Yet Themo pulled his sword and shouldered his smaller comrades aside, rushing in to take the first slashing blow of the laraken's claws. The other jordaini followed close behind.