"To our right," Cale said to Riven.
Riven crouched, whirled his blades once, and said, "Do it."
With a mental command, Cale dispelled the darkness. For a fraction of a heartbeat, the gnoll pack stood confused. Cale and Riven leaped the stones and sped past them at Gez.
The woman in Gez's form saw them coming and her lips curled back from her teeth. Surreptitiously, she made a pass with her hand and began an incantation.
From behind, Jak's voice rose in answer, chanting a counter spell, and when the impostor finished whatever spell she intended to cast, nothing happened.
Just a pace or two away from Gez, Riven's voice rose and he shouted a word of power in the dire tongue Cale sometimes heard him utter in his sleep. The pronouncement caused vomit to rush up Cale's throat, slowing him, but he swallowed it down. Gez recoiled as though struck, grimacing.
Following up on the opening, Riven bounded forward. Sabers whirled, stabbing and slashing. Gez, still partially stunned, could not parry them all and the assassin opened a gash in the false gnoll's side and forearm. Cale lunged forward to attack from the other side, a low stab, a reverse slash, and an overhand chop. The impostor took wounds in her thigh, chest, and shoulder. She careened backward.
"Show yourself, bitch," Cale taunted.
The wounds they had inflicted began to close. The false Gez recovered herself, grinned, and winked.
From behind them, Jak shouted, "Look at his wounds, Dreeve! See how they heal? Look! That's not one of yours, but a shapeshifting demon from the lake!"
With surprising quickness, the impostor pounced forward and went on the attack. Spinning and ducking, she slammed her axe haft into Riven's ribs and forced Cale backward with a flurry of vicious swings. When the false gnoll had a moment to catch her breath, she shouted something in the gnoll tongue and gestured at Cale and Riven, no doubt an attempt to convince her packmates to assist her.
The rest of the gnolls hesitated, pointed, muttered. Cale didn't need to understand their tongue to know what they said. Gez didn't fight like a gnoll, and his wounds healed too fast.
More muttering. Still the gnolls did nothing. Cale could sense their fear.
Seeing the hesitation in the eyes of his packmates, the false Gez no longer tried to hide her true nature. She held up a hand, pointed it at Cale, and began to mouth arcane words.
Again Jak's voice rose in answer, a counter to whatever the creature had intended. The shapeshifter's spell fizzled in a stream of impotent black energy that leaked from her fingertips.
That was enough for the gnolls. Seeing one of their own casting spells told them all they needed to know. They backed farther away from the combat, looking to Dreeve for guidance. The gnoll leader seemed too surprised to act.
Hoping to catch the impostor off-guard, Cale lunged forward, blade low. Preternaturally quick, the shapeshifter danced backward, knocked Cale's long sword out of position with her axe, and punched Cale in the nose. Warm blood washed down his face. Eyes watering, he stumbled backward, keeping his long sword in a defensive position as best he could.
The creature might have finished him then, but Riven bounded forward and stabbed the false gnoll through the side with both sabers, halfway to the hilts.
"Let's see you heal that," the assassin hissed.
The impostor's legs buckled, and she growled in pain, but still she managed to smash the base of her axe haft into Riven's jaw. Blood flew from the assassin's mouth. He staggered backward and fell, leaving both blades buried in his enemy's flesh.
The shapeshifter roared, jerked Riven's blades free, and began to change form.
Gez's body contorted and twisted, growing broader, more muscular. Fur shrank and vanished into leathery green skin. The head expanded while the muzzle shortened, finally exploding into a huge mouth filled with teeth. Clawed fingers and splayed feet sprouted from the elongated arms and thick legs.
That was too much for the gnolls, who had been watching the combat from a distance. As one, the pack barked its terror and began to flee back the way they had come. Even Dreeve ran.
Moments later, more shouting and the sound of metal ringing on metal sounded from the woods in the direction the gnolls had fled.
Cale and Riven, both bleeding, shared a look. What new foe was this?
They had no way to know. Cale gripped his holy symbol tightly.
The creature didn't appear surprised by the combat happening in the woods behind her. She looked at Cale with dark eyes.
"You wished to see me, Erevis Cale," she said. "See me now."
With that, she leaped at him, quick as a viper, and knocked him to the ground. Her weight pushed the air from Cale's lungs and cracked several ribs. He tried to bring his long sword to bear but she pinned his arm in a vise grip. Her other claw raked his throat—only the stiff leather collar of his armor kept him alive. He punched at her with his offhand.
With an almost casual bite, she snapped off Cale's hand just above the wrist and devoured it whole.
Pain exploded in his brain. He screamed in agony, and thumped at her with a stump spraying blood. She tore at his chest, his arm, his throat.
From behind, Cale heard Jak exclaim in a rage, "Bitch!"
And the halfling was upon her, trying to get her off of Cale. He stabbed with his dagger and his short sword. Twice, three times he punctured her skin.
Cale was losing consciousness. He couldn't breathe. Blood poured from his arm with each beat of his heart. Through eyes gone blurry, he watched her rake Jak across his face. The power of the blow sent the halfling sprawling to the ground.
Cale tried to speak but nothing came out.
Riven was there, shouting something, his sabers whirring. He must have retrieved them. Still she remained on top of Cale, holding Jak and the assassin at bay with claw and tooth. Cale, helpless and dying, could do nothing.
It occurred to him then: she had devoured his holy symbol. He had failed his friends—was Riven his friend?—and his god. His vision began to go dark. He gasped for breath. He tried to shift his chest free of her weight but was too weak.
Then, somehow, Jak was on her back, straddling her the way he might a horse. He was shouting, his face flushed and contorted with rage. Tears poured down his face.
As though from a great distance, Cale heard him screaming, "Die! Die!" and with each word, he stabbed her—in the side, in the throat, in the back. Again and again.
The creature roared, showing Cale a mouthful of teeth, and reared up.
Strangely, when she got off of Cale, he felt no relief. His chest still felt as though a hundredweight sat atop it. He knew then that he would die. A rib had pierced a lung. He was breathing through blood.
The creature drove Riven back, plucked Jak off of her back by the scruff of his neck, and brought him around to her face. One, twice, she cuffed him about the face. He went limp, and she opened wide her mouth.
A sabre blade burst from her chest, spraying blood. She looked at it in surprise, dropped Jak, and whirled—
—to receive a cross cut from Riven's other sabre, clean through her throat. Her head flew from her body and her huge frame crashed to the ground, missing Cale by a handspan.
The assassin wasted no time. He spared Cale only a glance before he went to Jak and kneeled at his side. He tapped the halfling's cheeks.
"Fleet! Godsdamnit, Fleet!"
Jak's eyes fluttered open. Riven pulled him roughly to his feet and dragged him over to Cale. Cale tried to speak but couldn't manage it.
"He's dying, Fleet," Riven said. "Heal him. Now."
The assassin looked over his shoulder at the forest. The combat there had ceased. Or at least Cale could no longer hear it.