The Howling Delve
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"How many ways are you trying to kill me!" the boy screeched, pushing her off and scrambling away.
"You're alive," Meisha said wonderingly. "The cave-in ... I thought it had killed you. It killed her—Shaera."
"Is she all right?" came Kall's voice from somewhere above her head.
"Babbling something, but I always knew her mind was addled," Talal said. The boy snorted, but his eyes were filled with concern when he looked down at her.
"How?" Meisha asked.
"Your fat bulk shielded me from the worst of it," the boy said, grinning. "Got a nasty bump, though." He touched his head and winced. "Your back's going to have some pretty scars on it."
He reached under her arms and felt for broken bones as Kall and the others approached.
Meisha caught Talal's wrist and saw the blistering burns on his palm. Her eyes filled with misery. "I burned you," she said bleakly. "I could have killed you."
"You could have killed us all," said Kall, as Garavin knelt beside her and muttered a prayer. "But you didn't."
Meisha looked at Dantane. She felt the dwarf's healing wash over her, closing the worst of her injuries. Talal was right, she thought. Some of the scars would never heal.
"I felt the power," she told the wizard. "The element. I was fire. I wanted it so badly."
Dantane nodded, understanding, but Talal scoffed. "Showing off was what she did," he said. "Boom! That's all you sorcerers are about."
Meisha touched the boy's wrist. "Thank you for telling me when to stop," she whispered. This time, moisture trailed down her cheeks rather than fire.
Talal's face scrunched up at the sight of the tears. He looked more panicked than he had when she was on fire. "Get me out of here, Lady, and we're even. Sune's teats, I swear this is the last time I'll ask."
"Can you continue?" Kall asked her.
With Talal's aid, Meisha got to her feet. "I can," she said.
He nodded. "Let's go, then. There's still a long climb, and the Shadow Thieves are waiting."
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Keczulla, Amn
5 Marpenoth, the Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR)
When Kall emerged from the Bladesmile estate and saw the black cloud hanging in the sky above the Gold Ward, he didn't realize it was alive. He'd been on guard for a Shadow Thief ambush, but the portal room, both in the Delve and the estate, was deserted, the gates active and waiting. He'd been certain it was a trap, but there was no sign of the Shadow Thieves or Varan.
When the black cloud shattered, the birds scattered throughout the city, some dropping from the sky impaled with arrows, others on fire, reeling wildly in the air like dying phoenixes. Kall knew at once where they'd come from.
"Take Garavin to Waukeen's temple," he told Morgan and Talal. The dwarf still walked in a haze, his strength depleted. Kall didn't know how long it would take for him to recover from his experience. "Meisha, Dantane. Come with me." He offered no other explanation; he simply ran toward his home.
He was almost to the line of dark hedgerows that led up to the main entrance when Meisha and Dantane caught up. With surprising strength, the Harper yanked him down behind the hedge while shadows moved in front of the burning house.
Kall grabbed her by the front of her jerkin, both in fury and to steady himself. "If you're not going to help me," he snarled, "get out of my way!"
Meisha glared at him. "Clearly you've forgotten whom you're speaking to," she said, nodding to the house. "They have Varan. I will merrily tear your home apart to find him if it pleases you, but I would rather not die until Balram is writhing safely in the deepest Hells." She leaned close. "I have held myself in check; now you will do the same. Remember your promise, Kall."
They held each other's gaze, and then, jarringly, Kall's face split in a grin. "Fine—tear the place apart. But clear a path for me first. Remember the garden?"
* * * * *
The guards stationed at the double front doors were shocked when they saw Balram and his two companions re-enter the hall, bleeding from scores of scratches and bites. At the same time, light—bright as a bonfire blaze—filled the vertical windows aside the front doors.
"What was that?" asked Balram, one hand covering his bleeding ear.
Elsis ran to the window. "The fire must have spread faster than we anticipated," he said. "The hedgerows are ablaze."
"What?"
The guard pointed to the twin lines of fire burning up to the carriageway.
"Bloody gods," Elsis murmured, flinging one of the doors open to get a better view. "What is that?"
He saw a man striding up the path. His cloak was torn apart, his armor soiled with blood, and his hair and skin were scorched by fire. Yet he walked as if the fire itself propelled him forward. A rush and roar sounded in the distance, and a woman stepped onto the path behind him. From her hands, a ball of fire bloomed and exploded down the walkway, chasing the man hungrily.
Elsis watched, his mouth agape, as the flames closed in, and still the man walked forward. He didn't even glance over his shoulder, though the heat must have been unbearable.
Just before the flames reached him, the woman made a gesture with her hands, pulling her palms apart and spreading her arms wide.
The fireball split. Each half streaked aside the man and past him, exploding in Elsis's face, driving the guard back into the doors and through. The front of the house collapsed, folding in on itself as the structure absorbed the brunt of the explosion. The rubble buried those of Balram's guards not consumed by the fireball.