Jess Lebow: Obsidian Ridge

At long last, the chamber was silent.

The black beasts stopped dead in their tracks-even those in the middle of chewing a soldier to pieces. They closed their fanged mouths. They retracted their scything claws. They stopped moving, and all of them, every single one, sat down on their haunches and hung their heads, right in the middle of the battlefield. They were like obedient dogs, all of which had seemingly been told to lie down.

Silence settled over the blood-strewn grounds surrounding Klarsamryn. The ring of metal and cries of dying men slowly faded It was calm in the heart of Llorbauth for a brief moment.

Then a shout went up across the line of soldiers. Hope had returned.

"Cut them down!" shouted King Korox from behind the battle. He hobbled back toward the fighting, returning from the edge of the courtyard and the now-lifeless body of Arch Magus Xeries.

Every soldier within earshot hacked down upon their stationary foes. Not a one of Xeries's beasts moved, not a muscle, as King Korox, Lord Purdun, Captain Kaden, and all their men fell upon the enemy.

The beasts that had terrorized Erlkazar only moments before died by the dozens. They did not whimper. They did not cower. They simply waited their turn to be slaughtered.

Their blood ran in rivers across the parched earth.

The Matron could hardly believe her eyes. One moment the end was near for the ruler of Erlkazar. The next he had taken the field. His troops had not suffered as many casualties as she had predicted, and they now outnumbered her assassins more than twenty to one.

"Assassins of Waukeen!" shouted King Korox, as his men surrounded them. "Your treachery here today will not go unpunished. Throw down your weapons, and you will be tried justly. If you resist, you will be killed."

The Matron's face burned with anger and frustration. "Do not listen to him! The throne is ours! Take the king! Take Llorbauth by force!"

Quinn stared up at the three huge floating gemstones. A line had been chiseled into the ground, connecting the base of each to the others. The space in between the rubies described a triangle, large enough to fit nearly fifty men, if they were standing shoulder to shoulder.

Coming a little closer, Quinn reached out to touch the nearest stone. A narrow thread of magical energy lifted away from the ruby and connected with his hand. When it touched him, he could feel every hair on his body stand on end. It was like being too close to a bolt of lightning, yet at the same time, the power coursing through his body was somehow invigorating.

He placed his entire palm on the humming ruby. A hundred other strands of magic reached out to him, creating a thin barrier of energy between his skin and the surface of the stone. As he pulled his hand away, the narrow threads stretched and combined, reaching across the distance to keep contact with his skin. The farther away he got, the fewer, thicker strands connected him to the ruby, until finally he broke the connection and the energy receded back into the floating stone.

Stepping inside the inscribed triangle, he made a connection with the first ruby then reached out his other hand to the second of the three stones. Another stream of energy lifted off its surface and attached itself to his hand.

This time though, as soon as it touched him, his feet were lifted from the ground, and he began to float in the air. He wobbled a bit, his balance a little shaky, as he was sucked in deeper toward the center of the triangle. The third ruby reached out to him as well, lifting him higher into the air as it added its energy to that of the other two. More and more of the magical threads touched his skin, like hands holding him aloft.

It was an extraordinary experience-hanging in midair, suspended between the humming rubies, weightless and free to move as he pleased. By lifting his hands over his head, he could rise toward the ceiling. By lowering them to his sides, he would drop back toward the floor A shift to his right or left would move him around the triangle.

The closer he was to the center, the more control he had. At the edges, he would lose the connection to one of the rubies, and he'd drop a few feet. If he lost the connection to more than one, then he'd fall back to the floor altogether.

His feet touched the ground, and he stepped out of the triangle. Being inside was rather exhilarating, but it was also quite tiring. His heart was beating very quickly, and he sat down, a rest to catch his breath.

"I think this belongs to you."

Quinn spun to see a man watching him from the other side of the triangle. His face was warped and cast in an orange glow from the humming rubies and their magic. In one hand he held Quinn's bladed gauntlet.

It took him a moment, but Quinn eventually recognized him. "Jallal."

"Put this on," Jallal demanded. "Perhaps it'll prolong your inevitable death. I'll enjoy it more that way."

He threw the weapon at Quinn, tossing it into the triangle.

Tiny threads of energy shot from the gemstones. The magical strands wrapped themselves around the blades, slowing the gauntlet and lifting it high in the air. Reaching the ceiling, it came to a stop, suspended between the rubies at the highest point in the room.

Taking two large steps, Quinn leaped into the triangle, his arms held high over his head. He could feel the gemstones' magic take hold of him and shoot him into the sky. As he reached the ceiling and his weapon, he kicked his legs out and spun his body around in a somersault. Grabbing his gauntlet as he passed, he flipped over, landing feet first on the ceiling.

Standing upside down, he strapped the gauntlet to his wrist and motioned at Jallal. "I don't know how you got here," he said. "But if you want a fight, then I'm happy to oblige. Come and get me." "

Jallal stated up through the orange light, a look of confusion on his face. Then his eyes narrowed, and he stepped across the inscribed line on the floor. The moment he made contact with two of the rubies, he was lifted into the air. He hovered not far off the ground, his arms and legs flailing while he got used to the weightlessness.

Quinn didn't wait for him to find his balance. Diving down on Jallal, he slashed the man across the back of his neck, tumbled over, touched the floor with his feet, then shot back up to the ceiling.

Drops of blood glistened bright red in the strange light of the rubies. They fell from the fresh wounds but did not hit the floor. Instead, they remained floating in midair. Tiny threads of magic reached out to each one.

Jallal growled at the pain of four keen-edged blades ripping his flesh. "I suppose I owe you my thanks. If you hadn't killed me that night in the slaughterhouse, I never would have been given the gifts I have now." He straightened, admiring his powerful limbs. Then he turned his glowering gaze up at Quinn. "But you owe me for killing my brother. And I have come to collect on that debt."

Lifting his arms as he had seen Quinn do, Jallal rose through the air, aided by the magic of the rubies. He brought his wicked-looking sword to beat, holding it out and turning himself into a human javelin as he flew toward the ceiling.

"You and your brother were plotting to kill the king," said Quinn. "You kidnapped the princess. Both of you deserved to die."

Quinn watched the man come, waiting for the right moment. When Jallal was almost upon him, he dodged hard to his left, losing his connection with one of the rubies and falling quickly to a spot just a few feet off the floor. Jallal's outstretched blade missed Quinn by several feet, clanging loudly as it bit into the black stone of the ceiling, sending chips of obsidian showering toward the floor only to be caught up by the magic of the gemstones and suspended in midair.