“He does that,” Amris said. He’d paraphrased Gerant with a few words. Now he paced to the doorway of the infirmary and stood looking out, leaning one shoulder against the wooden upright.
Darya went to him. It was what she could do just then, and it wasn’t much, particularly since his armor covered his back, but she reached up a little and rubbed the back of his neck gently. The muscles were taut cords under her fingers. His skin was still hot and damp. They all needed baths, not to mention about two days of sleep. It didn’t seem like they were going to get any of that on the mortal side of a funeral pyre.
“I’m sorry for asking, Sentinel,” Olvir said, “but how long until you can repeat what you did just now?”
“At least a quarter of a day.”
“And that,” Emeth said, “is if she wants to risk killing herself.”
“It might not work even then,” said Katrine, eyes shadowed and red. “That was more power than we’ve ever handled, and it only partially destroyed that thing, and then maybe only because Thyran was distracted. He’ll be ready next time.”
“Yes,” said Amris. “Although it, or he, will likely be weaker against a ground assault than to archers or magic. Iron helps in these matters.” But the words were laborious and he didn’t sound certain. Darya knew why; on the ground, the numbers would still be very much against them, and that didn’t include all of the twistedmen’s special tricks.
Beyond him, Darya saw a shape approaching from the darkness. It came clearer and resolved into Tebengri, walking slowly and holding a large bowl in both hands. They paused in front of the doorway and nodded respectfully.
“I apologize for the interruption. We’ve put together a defense against the entrancement—and perhaps against the way the crawling-faces send pain back as well. I know it seems of little account just now.”
“No,” said Amris. “Just now we need every thread of hope that we can spin.”
“Then I’m glad to help. There’s enough here for half a dozen. Hallis sent me to find most of you, in fact, while the other mages take care of him and the soldiers at his location.”
Nicely done,Gerant said.Ask them, though, if it will impede the spell we have.
“Good news, and thanks,” said Darya, “but Amris and I have a spell on us already. Will that be a problem?”
“It shouldn’t,” Tebengri replied. “As Gizath’s power is to turn parts of a whole against one another, this anchors you to who you are and what you want.” A slightly devilish smile crossed their lips. “It shouldn’t be obvious either. If you act well, you may be able to lure them in and catch them off-balance.”
A light that Darya hadn’t seen for too long reappeared in Amris’s storm-gray eyes. He studied the mage for a second, nodding slowly. “So, indeed, we may.”
Chapter 39
It was far from a perfect plan, even by the imperfect standards of any plan in a time of war. To begin with, the townsfolk of Oakford were going to be extremely unhappy about the results, even if their forces won the day. Knowing they’d probably be paid for the damages, that not all of them would return in any case—one hasty evacuation was one too many for some—and that a far worse fate awaited them all in any case, Amris still felt a pang, thinking of his father and sisters and what their reaction would have been.
That none of the Sentinels, nor Tebengri and Gerant, nor even Olvir, objected soothed him a little, but it also said that none of them had come from peasant stock. He wondered what Hallis would say, or the soldiers.
“Well,” Emeth said, voicing a more tactical objection, “how do we know that even swords at close range will work? You saidlikely.”
“We’ll try all we’ve got,” Darya responded before Amris could speak. “Swords, fire, magic… Hell, I’m willing to stand back and throw rocks at the damned thing if that’s what’s left. But we’ve got to figure the thing’s not invulnerable, or we just lie down and let it squash us.”
“But,” said Olvir, “it might be wise to focus on the twistedmen at first, or when using weapons we knowdon’twork. The one blessing of that creature is that it’s slow, and it looks as though Thyran must be with it to control it. On the ground, clear of his soldiers, a few warriors could likely keep it on the run—so to speak—and survive.”
“There’s also Thyran’s magic to consider,” said Amris, as several unpleasant scenes crossed his memory. “He may not be able to use it and control the abattoir at the same time, but I wouldn’t wager on that.”
“Pardon,” Tebengri said, stopping in front of him. Amris knelt in front of them and lifted his head.
The mixture in the bowl was cool and gritty, and smelled like ashes from a forge. As Tebengri traced a symbol with it on Amris’s forehead, it seemed to sink into his skin, traveling through his skull and down his spine with a weight that was unnerving but comforting. He felt himself shaped around it, all the more solid for its presence.
“That,” he said, when Tebengri took the brush away, “is quite a spell, all the more so for its haste.”
“Thank you, General,” they said. “This magic of Thyran’s… What is it? Can it be defended against?”
“Yes, or dodged, but it’s difficult in both cases. He can call forth fire from his hands, and when I say ‘fire,’ that’s not quite accurate. It has the speed of flame, but it’s more vicious, and it’s…less wholesome.”
It consumes from within,said Gerant.It turns all that’s strong and good about you against itself, and you eat yourself alive. Not literally, or not with your mouth at any rate, but in essence. It’s Gizath’s power in its purest form.
“Great news,” Darya said, and repeated the information. “But we can get out of the way?”
As you can dodge a bolt of lightning. Magic can protect against it, and so can shields, for that matter, but those defenses will fail more quickly than they would against normal fire, say.
