Dark Sun: Prism Pentad 5 - The Cerulean Storm (28 page)

From across the narrow silt channel, Rikus yelled, “Of all the rotten luck!”

Caelum looked over and saw the mul-at least, he saw the upper half of the mul. Rikus had
plunged through the sun-baked crust and was stuck up to his breast in the soft mud
beneath. To make matters worse, all four of the spirit lords were rushing toward him.
Already the one with the smoking horns was diving at Rikus.

Caelum pointed at the spirit and spoke a mystic command word. A brilliant ray of crimson
shot from his finger, bursting into a dazzling spray of light right before the thing's
eyes.

The corpse roared in anger, and beams of golden energy shot from his smoking horns. The
spirit lord landed at the mul's side, shaking his head in a mad effort to clear the spots
from his eyes. The rays from his horns washed over Rikus. The mul screamed in pain and
brought the Scourge down across the spirit's neck, sending his ugly head skittering across
the sun-baked ground.

Rikus looked back to the other three spirit lords, who were only a dozen steps away. “I
can't get out of this mess.” The mul drew his arm back to throw the Scourge. “Take this.”

“No! Keep it!” Caelum yelled.

Not giving Rikus a chance to argue, the dwarf stepped over to the mast and tried to shove
it toward the mul. The shaft was lodged more securely than it appeared and would not tip
easily. Caelum continued to push. The pole slipped a little, but did not fall.

Across the channel, the three remaining spirit lords had reached the mul. They spread out
around him. The one with the chitinous armor positioned himself directly in front of
Rikus, while the corpse with the beak approached from the side on which the mul was
holding the Scourge. The last lord, a female with fingernails as long as needles, circled
around behind Rikus.

Caelum continued to push against the mast, for he could feel it slowly tipping. At the
same time, he glanced up the silt channel to see if he could summon help. Sadira and Neeva
were several hundred paces away, flying low over the silt passage, their backs to him and
Rikus. From what the dwarf could see of their heads, their gazes were fixed on the channel
below, searching for some sign of the Dark Lens.

Caelum started to call out, but from across the passage one of the spirit lords said,
“Now, Lord Warrior!”

The dwarf looked back to see the corpse with the chitinous armor, apparently the Lord
Warrior, dart in and level a vicious kick at Rikus's head. There was a loud crack as the
mul deflected the assault with his free arm, then he swung the Scourge at the spirit's
legs.

The Lord Warrior jumped the slash. He landed on one foot, kicking Rikus's sword arm away
with the other. “Now you, Lord Vizier!”

The other male spirit leaped forward, clamping his beak-shaped mouth around Rikus's wrist.
With one hand, the Lord Vizier grabbed the fist holding the Scourge and slammed the palm
of the other into the mul's elbow. Rikus screamed but did not release his weapon, so the
corpse tried to force it free by wrenching the mul's arm.

Caelum heard the mud crust crackle and felt the mast tip. Growling with determination, he
slammed his shoulder into the pole and pumped his legs madly. It tilted farther, leaning
across the channel. The glowing sphere on top cast rosy light over Rikus and the area
around him.

The Lord Warrior shrieked and retreated, as did the female corpse. The Lord Vizier tried
one last time to wrench the Scourge free. It proved a terrible mistake, for Rikus reached
over and grabbed him by the back of the neck, then held him in place. The spirit lord
opened his beak and screeched in pain. Wisps of black, foul-smelling smoke rose from his
body. The corpse flailed his arms about wildly in a mad effort to escape.

Rikus pulled his sword across the corpse's stomach. The Lord Vizier gave a harrowing wail
and clawed madly at the dry mud in an effort to drag himself away. The mul struck again,
and the spirit went limp. The body smoldered for a moment, then a wave of shimmering
flames reduced it to ashes.

The last two spirit lords, standing on opposite sides of Rikus, looked toward Caelum. “Can
you take care of him, Lady Bliss?” asked the Lord Warrior.

“Gladly,” answered the female spirit, spreading her needlelike fingers and stepping away
from Rikus.

Caelum circled around to the other side of the mast, as if trying to hide. He could hear
the mud crust crackling beneath its weight and knew it would fall at any moment.

Lady Bliss circled the area lit by Caelum's spell, then stopped at the edge of the silt
channel. She used one finger to motion for him to come closer, and the dwarf could see
droplets of murky yellow fluid dripping from the claw.

“There's nothing to fear, little man,” she said, gathering herself up to jump the channel.
“This won't hurt.”

“This will!” Caelum countered.

Using all his dwarven strength, Caelum shoved the mast. The mud crust gave way with a
sharp crack, and the top of the pole swung around. The shaft dropped straight toward Lady
Bliss, catching her as she tried to leap into the air. The red globe crashed down on her
shoulder. The spirit lord did not even have time to scream before her body erupted into a
pillar of crimson flame.

Caelum heard the Lord Warrior curse, then say, “The sword! Give it to me!”

The dwarf did not even take the time to look across the channel. His end of the mast had
sunk into the dust, but other end still lay propped on top of the opposite shoal's mud
crust. He took a running start and jumped, spreading his arms wide.

Caelum dropped about halfway across. He hit the dust face first, sinking only a short
distance before his chest touched the solid shaft of the mast. The dwarf closed his arms
around it and pulled himself up, coughing and choking as he came out of the silt. Not even
waiting until he could breathe clearly again, he crawled up onto the opposite shoal and
turned toward Rikus.

Caelum found himself behind both his friend and the Lord Warrior. Having landed a glancing
kick on the back of the mul's skull, the corpse was just leaping away as Rikus tried to
twist around and slash at him with the Scourge.

The Lord Warrior slipped a step to the side, positioning himself for his next attack. The
dwarf charged, timing his assault to arrive as the corpse stepped forward again. The
spirit lord stopped directly behind Rikus. The Lord Warrior raised his leg, preparing to
level a vicious thrust-kick at the base of Rikus's skull.

Certain that the blow would be fatal if it landed, Caelum yelled a warning. At the same
time, he hurled himself at the Lord Warrior, taking the corpse high in the shoulder
blades. The dwarf hit with a bone-jarring impact, his face pressing into the cold, hard
scales that covered the corpse's back.

The Lord Warrior cried out in surprise, and the momentum of Caelum's charge carried them
both over the top of Rikus's head. The corpse crashed down right in front of the mul, then
the dwarf rolled away.

Rikus brought the Scourge down half a dozen times before the Lord Warrior had a chance to
react. By the time Caelum returned to his feet, all that remained of the spirit were slabs
of putrid flesh.

“Many thanks,” Rikus said. “You just saved my life-four times over.”

The mul had suffered more during his struggle against the spirit lords than Caelum had
realized. His body was covered with lumps, huge purple bruises, and a dozen gashes that
were starting to soften the mud around him with blood.

“I haven't saved your life yet,” Caelum said. He raised a hand toward the sun and walked
over to the mul's side. “The Lord Warrior's beating could take you yet.”

Rikus's eyes widened. He stared up at the dwarf's glowing hand with a pained expression.
“I'm too sore for that,” he growled. “You don't have to heal me right now.”

“Of course he does,” snarled Tithian's voice.

Caelum looked over and saw the king-or rather, a creature with the king's head-crawling
out of the silt channel. Tithian's body no longer looked even remotely human. It was
shaped like that of a lizard, with a knobby green hide and squat, powerful legs so broad
they looked more like paddles. As the strange beast emerged the rest of the way onto the
shoal, the dwarf saw that it had wrapped its long tail around the considerable bulk of the
Dark Lens.

The creature crawled over to them and deposited the lens at Rikus's side.

“Now be quiet and let Caelum save your miserable hide-again,” Tithian said, looking toward
the cutters. I'll go make arrangements for us to continue. Perhaps we can finish our
journey in a style more befitting my station."

The ravine was a scar upon the blackened face of the plain, an ugly slash choked with
jagged boulders and thick with brown vapor. Its sheer walls were capped with long mounds
of loose stone, as if some immense plow had scratched a furrow from a field of solid
basalt. The floor was littered with pulsing heaps of yellow stones, while tiny fissures in
the cliff faces spat beads of steaming white sludge across the canyon. There was not a
plant, living or dead, in the whole valley.

The ravine spilled into a vast, fiery abyss filled with molten rock. At this brink loomed
a massive arch of black granite, engraved with squirming yellow runes and twice as tall as
the cliffs flanking it. In the shadows beneath the arch stood the Dragon, eclipsed by the
edifice and silhouetted against the orange glow rising from the chasm at his back. The
claws of one hand were closed around a small, limp figure.

Though Sadira could not see it clearly from this distance, she assumed the figure to be
Rkard. The sorceress had been watching for quite some time and still had not seen the boy
move.

Sadira felt a hand grasp her shoulder. “It's time,” Neeva whispered. “Caelum just received
Tithian's thought-message. They're in position.”

Sadira looked at the ravine's south wall. The cliff was only about half the height of the
great arch itself, but easily tall enough so that Rikus and Tithian would be able to
attack the Dragon from above. She saw no sign of the mul or the king, of course, for they
would not show themselves until the battle began. Until then, they would remain hidden
behind the mound of loose stones that capped the wall.

According to the plan, Neeva and Caelum would make the first move. Protected by Sadira's
magic, they would go straight down the ravine. They would try to hold the Dragon's
attention on themselves, so that the sorceress would have a better chance of using her
powers to sneak up on him.

Sadira's task was to deprive the Dragon of his most dangerous magic. Like the
sorcerer-kings, Borys could draw the life-force from men and animals. Also like the
sorcerer-kings, he required the aid of obsidian globes to convert it into magical energy.
But the Dragon's mighty spells required more of the dark orbs than his hands could hold,
so he swallowed his globes and carried them inside his body. If Sadira could get close
enough, she could shatter the obsidian in Borys's stomach, thus robbing him of his
mightiest weapon.

The loss of the globes would probably also stun Borys, so Sadira would move quickly to
rescue Rkard. Then, if necessary, she would return and lure the Dragon from beneath his
arch by taunting him, pretending to suffer an injury, or-as a last resort-leaving herself
vulnerable to a physical attack. When Borys stepped out of his cover, Rikus and Tithian
would attack from above. Hopefully, the ambush would prove fatal. If it did not, the
assault would lapse into an unpredictable melee and their strategy would become, of
necessity, a simple one: attack as fast and as hard as possible.

“Sadira?” asked Neeva. “Is something wrong?”

The sorceress shook her head, then followed her friend back behind the ridge they were
using as a hiding place. She was sad to see that Neeva did not go to Caelum's side. Sadira
had hoped that her friend would make amends with her husband before the fighting started.

The sorceress went to Neeva's side and took the warrior's axe. “Don't you think it's time
to forgive your husband?” she whispered. “This will be a hard-fought battle.”

“I didn't see you kiss Rikus before sending
him
off,” countered the warrior, also whispering.

“That's different. Caelum did all he could to protect your son,” Sadira said. “Rikus was
glad to see Agis gone.”

“That's not true,” Neeva replied.

“He thought he'd have me to himself. I saw it in his eyes,” Sadira insisted. “He's always
been jealous of Agis.”

“Rikus?” Neeva scoffed, shaking her head. She lowered her voice even further. “Neither of
you are ones to be jealous. That's why you have him and I don't.”

“As I recall, you ended that romance-for Caelum.” Sadira glanced over her friend's
shoulder at the dwarf. He was deep in concentration, one hand pressed to his sun-mark.
“And I think you'll find you still love him, if you ask yourself how you would have
stopped Borys.”

Neeva bit her lip and looked away. “Maybe, after this is over,” she said. “But all I can
think of now is getting Rkard back. Fix my axe so we can get on with it.”

Sadira sighed. She rubbed her ebony fingers over the weapon's steel head, speaking several
incantations in a row. A dark stain spread outward from beneath her fingertips, coating
the double-edged weapon with an ebony sheen as smooth and lustrous as a mirror. Tiny
whirlpools of dusky light poured into one blade, while sable starbursts sparkled from the
other. Even the handle turned as black as pitch.

“Remember, use the flat of the blade to deflect anything flying at you.” Sadira handed the
weapon back to Neeva. “When Borys tries to use his magic, point the handle at him. And
above all, if you get close enough to hit him, leave the blade buried in his flesh as long
as possible-”

“Unless you've changed any of the enchantments, there's no need to go over it again,”
interrupted Neeva. She cast a nervous glance skyward. “Night could come at any moment.”