The efreeti raised its hand, its fingers almost touching the ceiling. A huge ball of flame erupted in its palm, further illuminating the room that was already brightly lit simply by the fiery creature's presence.
Tasca sighted down his bow, taking aim at the outsider.
"This is bad," said Regdar.
Tasca released his arrow. The projectile struck the efreeti in the shoulder, and the large outsider roared. Its brow furrowed, and the flame flickered in its hand.
Tasca reached for another arrow.
You'll pay for that, elf. The efreeti's voice boomed through Tasca's head.
The flame in the floating creature's hand raged again, never having fully gone out, and the efreeti hurled the glowing glob at Tasca.
Regdar, Whitman, and Clemf all ducked as the flaming orb surged over their heads. The magical fire impacted the sturdy wooden door, splashing into a puddle of flame and dripping down onto the floor.
Clemf ended up in a heap on the ground, his hair singed. The big, tattooed human clattered around on the stone as he tried to regain his feet.
Regdar was the first to recover his wits, and he charged in, his greatsword held high. Slicing the blade down in a smooth, natural arc, Regdar leaned into the charging strike. His enchanted weapon glowed brightly as it struck the efreeti's hide. Arcane marks of power glittered as the blade bit deep into fiery flesh.
Whitman tumbled into the fray, dodging behind the large creature and taking up a position opposite Regdar. He wheeled with his hammer, crashing the head of his weapon into the outsider's flank. The dwarven metal sparked as it connected, growing red-hot against the fiery creature's flesh.
The efreeti grumbled, and its lip curled in a sneer. Tasca trained an arrow on its chest, adjusted for the magical wind, and let fly. The projectile impacted the outsider squarely in the shoulder, but the efreeti didn't even flinch. Instead it spun to face the dwarf behind it. As it turned, Tasca could see the shaft of his arrow burst into flames.
The magical fire in the efreeti's palm suddenly went out, and the creature began uttering something in a language Tasca didn't recognize. With a final, booming syllable, the towering monster clapped its hands together, and the floor before it erupted in flame. The fire filled one side of the room from wall to wall, floor to ceiling.
A sudden jolt ran up Tasca's spine. "Whitman!"
The wall of flame had appeared directly on top of where the stubborn dwarf had been standing.
The efreeti spun back around, a smug look on its face.
Clemf managed to get back to his feet and charge. His blade connected with the creature's wrist and skipped along its arm, finally sinking into the upper part of the efreeti's shoulder. An oozing, pitchlike substance seeped out of the wound. When Clemf withdrew his weapon, the goo ignited, sticking to his blade. The tattooed human stood before the efreeti, flaming sword in hand, breathing hard from the heavy strike.
Regdar, with his back turned to Tasca, lifted his greatsword for an overhead hack. The efreeti pulled a falchion from the swirling clouds below its waist and with a quick stroke, deflected Regdar's blow. Regdar shifted, and stepped forward in an unbalanced lunge. His sword struck the hilt of the outsider's blade, but its momentum slid the weapon up and in, jamming the sharp point into the monster's gut.
The creature let out a terrific roar and pulled its hand to its stomach. The swirling maelstrom that supported the monster's naked chest, arms, and head stopped spinning. The breeze in the room came to an end, and the efreeti's legs appeared. Looking down at the wound Regdar had inflicted, the outsider laughed. It removed its hand from the inconsequential scratch and gripped its falchion with both hands.
A tremendous, warbling cry arose from the fiery magic wall. It echoed off the worked stone and overtopped every sound in the room. The unnerving shout was followed by a twirling ball that shot straight out of the fire. The ball twisted and tumbled, arcing through the air.
Out of the tangle emerged a flaming, very pissed-off dwarf.
Whitman's beard was singed, and the ends were still alight. His lip curled up in a terrible sneer, and his eyes blazed with hatred. The sight sent a chill down Tasca's spine.
"You overgrown mephit," roared Whitman. "Your days of roasting dwarves are over."
Shouting out the power word for his boots, Whitman accelerated. Hammer and dwarf gained momentum as they charged the efreeti, then the head of the magical silver hammer impacted its target. A skull-rattling boom shook dust from the ceiling. It was as if Whitman were a bolt of lightning instead of an angry, mortal dwarf.
The efreeti stumbled back, obviously shaken by the blow, and the fiery wall behind it dropped away into nothingness. The room became much darker, lit only by the glowing outline of the outsider.
Tasca trained another arrow on the monster and let fly. His well-placed shot struck the efreeti in the forehead. The beast recoiled another step.
Clemf and Regdar seized the opportunity to rain stabs and slashes against the creature. More flaming pitch oozed from wounds on the efreeti's tremendous body.
The magical being shook its head as if to clear it, stepped forward, and sliced its falchion down in a flailing, two-handed strike. The weapon struck Regdar in the chest, knocking him backward.
Regdar's arms flew outward, and his legs left the ground. With a riotous clang, he landed on his seat and skidded across the floor. He remained upright for a moment more, then he crashed to his back, spread-eagle on the floor.
Regdar had watched the efreeti's falchion hit him squarely in the chest. He felt himself lifted from the ground. Now he was on his back and not sure how he'd gotten there. His chest hurt, but that was nothing new. His chest had hurt since the day he'd lost Naull in the City of Fire.
That pain had dulled a little over time, but seeing her again brought it back, stronger than he remembered it ever being. It burned with new fury as he watched Lindroos kiss and caress her. Under other circumstances, he might have enjoyed that kiss, but now, it hurt like hell.
He looked down at himself. There's blood on my armor, he thought. He looked up. The room wavered and swirled. Was that another of the efreeti's tricks? The efreeti was gone from his vision, and he could no longer focus on anything. He heard the back of his helmet hit the floor before blacking out.
Hollering with what must have been all the air in his lungs, Whitman hurled his hammer at the efreeti. The toss lifted the little man off his feet. In the dwarf's ears, the room was silent except for the whooshing sound of the hammer rotating end over end as it flew toward the monster. That sound was followed by a heart-dropping clap and grind as the hilt struck the floor, and the weapon skidded harmlessly away from its target.
The efreeti laughed and stepped toward Whitman, leering down from nearly twice the dwarf's height.
"I'll roast who I choose, little morsel," it thundered.
Tasca pulled a single, blue-tipped arrow from his quiver and nocked it to his bow. "Not today."
Sighting down the bow, the elf whispered a single word. Magical light flashed out over the arrow, forming tiny, blue crystals along its shaft, tipped in a frosty white. He released the string.
The arrow jumped across the room like a thunderbolt. The head of the projectile impacted against the efreeti's chest, and an explosion of light surrounded the monster. Bits of ice and flakes of snow swirled in a magical pool of mixed purples and blues, and the room went suddenly cold.
Fingers of crystallized ice reached out and wrapped themselves around the efreeti, squeezing it like a giant hand. The fingers grew as they cascaded over the monster's shoulders and chest. The efreeti squirmed, and dropped its blade. As the icy cold enveloped its head, it let out a terrific howl that echoed and re-echoed until the room vibrated with the intensity of it.
Tasca lowered his bow. The efreeti was entirely encased in a glistening sarcophagus of blue-white ice. Its features were frozen and distorted-the face was still fearsome, but the eyes were frozen in a terrified stare.
The room was now almost completely dark, lit only by the barely flickering flame of Regdar's discarded torch. The three men looked at the frozen giant for a moment more before Whitman-the flames in his beard now extinguished-bolted over to Regdar, lying prone on the floor. Tasca crossed over as well, while still keeping one wary eye on the efreeti.
Regdar lay motionless on his back with a large wound across his chest. Even though his arms were flung straight out to his sides, he had managed to keep a grip on his greatsword.
Whitman knelt beside him.
Clemf rubbed his hand over his face. "Is he alive?"
Whitman put his hand to Regdar's throat. The dwarf cocked his head to the side, almost as if he were listening for something.
"Well?" asked Tasca.
Whitman remained quiet for a long moment.
Tasca kicked the dwarf in the back. "Hey, you little oaf, I asked you a question. Did that fire burn out your tongue along with your beard?"
"No," replied Whitman.
Clemf's sword clattered to the ground.
For the second time since they had opened the door to this room, Tasca felt his heart miss a beat. He lowered his head.
"No," repeated Whitman, "he's not 'well'. Give me a potion."
A thrill ran down Tasca's spine. Dropping everything, the elf flung his pack from his back and dug frantically inside for a healing potion. Flasks clanked together as he fished around. Pulling out a vial, the elf shoved it at the dwarf.
Whitman uncorked the bottle, cradled up Regdar's head from the floor, and poured the magical liquid down his throat. Halfway through the bottle, the human fighter coughed and gagged. His arms came to life, flailing around like a drowning sailor's. Whitman pulled back, keeping the rest of the potion in the bottle, as Regdar gasped for air.
Clemf picked up his sword, then walked over next to Whitman. He leaned down, putting his face right next to the dwarf's.
"I don't claim to understand the little games you and the elf play," he said. "Sometimes the two of you even amuse me with your constant bickering." He leaned in even closer, his nose touching Whitman's. "But if you ever again joke like that about someone dying, I'll cut your beard off-and maybe I'll leave it attached to your face."
Whitman swallowed hard but remained silent.
Tasca held his breath, not quite sure what to make of the exchange.
"So we understand each other?" asked Clemf.
Whitman raised his eyebrows and nodded.
"Good." Clemf leaned back, slapped the dwarf on the shoulder, and broke out laughing.
Tasca sighed and chuckled. "For a quiet guy, you're pretty funny."
Clemf smiled. "You think so?"
"Yeah," interjected Whitman, "a real riot."
Regdar woke up coughing.
Whitman stood over him with an uncorked vial in his hand. Clemf stood over the dwarf, saying something into his face.
Regdar gagged and gulped for air. The other three were laughing.
"Oh," said Regdar between gasps, "so when I die, it's funny?"
Whitman shook his head and handed Regdar the half-full flask. "I'm going to poke around." The dwarf left the room, headed back down the corridor.
Regdar downed the rest of the healing potion, then fished in his pack for another one.
Tasca picked up the torch and scanned the walls. "It's possible they teleported out of here so that we'd just come to a dead end. This is the last openly accessible room on this level."
Clemf agreed. "Even if we do find a hidden stairway or a secret door, this whole thing is probably some elaborate trap." He walked up and helped Regdar get back to his feet. "Besides, pardon me for being honest, but your woman didn't exactly seem thrilled to see you."
Regdar gritted his teeth and glared at Clemf. "That wasn't Naull." His expression softened. "It looked like Naull, but it must have been an illusion or a doppelganger or… or I don't know what, but it wasn't Naull."
"Okay. All right." Clemf held up his hands in front of him, showing his palms to Regdar in a sign of nonaggression. "Just calm down and think about this for a minute. If it wasn't Naull, then what are we doing here?"
"If you hadn't noticed," replied Regdar, feeling rather indignant, "the black-armored men we fought in the entry hall were outfitted and uniformed exactly like the ones who attacked the duke's keep."
"Really?" said Clemf. "I thought black was just a fashionable color for evil minions, whatever the season." The tattooed man shook his head. "Didn't we cover this before?"
Regdar ignored the jibe. "It's likely that blackguard, Lindroos, is the person behind the attack at the keep. She's certainly in charge of the soldiers here, and if they're all on the same side, then by staying here and defeating them we're defending New Koratia." He straightened himself up. "Besides, Naull or not, that blackguard is the last person I saw alive with her, so she knows what happened." He looked Clemf right in the eye. "I intend to find out the truth."
Tasca finished searching and returned to the other two. "Personally, Regdar, you know I'm always up for a fight" He shrugged. "But in this case, I've got to side with Clemf. If the blackguard is behind the attack on the duke's keep, and if there's more to her plan, then we should go back and alert the duke." He looked Regdar in the eye. "We can come back with the rest of the army"
Regdar put his hands to his temples, massaging the wrinkles in his forehead. "We can't go back," he said.
Clemf laughed. "Of course we can go back. It's just a few days walk…"
Regdar shook his head.
Tasca narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, 'we can't go back'?"
Regdar threw his hands in the air. "We can't go back, okay!" he shouted. He turned around and began pacing. "The duke, he…"
"The duke what?" Clemf took a step forward, his fists clenched.
Regdar looked at him and shrugged. "The duke…the duke told me I couldn't leave. He never gave his permission. In fact, he said that if I came out here looking for Naull, then I could never return to New Koratia." His eyes shifted from Clemf to Tasca and back again. "I resigned my commission."
Clemf took another step forward. "You told us we had the duke's blessing." He grabbed Regdar by the collar. "We came out here with you as a favor, risked our lives for you, and you lied to us!" The tattooed human shook the big fighter, nearly lifting him off his feet. Clemf's face turned red, and spittle flew from the corners of his lips. "The duke thinks we abandoned our posts, Regdar." He shook the big fighter again, spraying saliva in his face as he talked. "Our careers as soldiers are over." Regdar's armor clattered louder as Clemf became more violent. "We left our homes, and now we can't even go back-and for what? To chase a dead woman!" Clemf's lips curled up in a sneer, and he thrust Regdar backward, pushing him hard to the ground. "You lying-" Clemf fished around for the right words. "We trusted you with our lives." He took a menacing step forward.
Tasca stepped up and put his hand on the man's tattooed arm, but Clemf pulled away, continuing to menace the fallen fighter.
Regdar just looked up from the ground, not bothering to even try to get up.
"You're right," said Regdar. "You're right."
Clemf pulled his fist back, winding up to punch Regdar in the face.
"As much as I'd like to do that myself," said Whitman, now leaning in the doorway, "there's not much we can do about it now. The only way we'll ever get back into New Koratia and clear our good names with the duke is if we stop this blackguard before she completes whatever wicked scheme she's concocted." He pushed off the door, hefting his hammer onto his shoulder. "If we bring Duke Ramas her head on a pike, he'll let us back in." The dwarf turned and headed back down the passage. "Come on," he said over his shoulder. "I found a stairway."