Troy Denning - Faces of Deception

"Careful, Yago!" Atreus called, pushing himself up on his good leg. "Don't let him touch-"

Even as Atreus spoke, Yago launched himself into the air and landed on top of Tarch. They tumbled down the slope locked in a death clench. The devil was all but invisible inside the ogre's grasp, and Atreus could well imagine those hairy arms crushing the slave master's battered ribs.

The pair bounced off a serac and slid toward a smile-shaped crevasse lying across the slope below. Atreus started after them, then howled in pain as he put weight on his injured leg. He managed two hopping steps before he fell on his back and started to slide. Instead of trying to stop, he steered himself in the general direction of the combat.

Whether Yago saw the crevasse below him was impossible to say, but Tarch managed to free a scaly arm and start scratching at the ice. Slowly, the sharp claws arrested the pair's descent, bringing them to a halt only five paces above the icy chasm. Yago rolled on top of his foe and sank his jagged yellow teeth into the devil's neck.

Atreus's heart leaped into his throat. Among ogres, this particular trick always brought the fight to a quick end.

Unable to free himself without ripping open his own neck, the victim either submitted or died. Atreus wanted to shout a reminder about not killing, but held his tongue. It would be too much of an advantage to let Tarch know they did not mean to slay him.

Atreus hit a shady spot and picked up speed. He rolled back into the sun, causing his leg no end of agony, and began to claw at the slush trying to slow his descent before he smashed into the brawl and sent both combatants over the edge of the crevasse.

A muffled bellow sounded from the battle. Yago released his death hold and raised his head. His eyes were wide with panic, his mouth was smeared with scales and blood, and Atreus knew instantly that Tarch had used his fear touch. The ogre slammed a huge palm into the devil's chest, then jumped up and began to back away, oblivious to the danger of losing his footing or stepping into a crevasse.

"Yago, stop!" Atreus shouted, steering himself toward Tarch. "Look behind you!"

The ogre stopped, but could not bring himself to glance away from his scaly enemy. Tarch rolled to his knees. Atreus brought his good leg up, aiming a soggy boot at his enemy's face. The devil scowled; then Atreus was there, feeling the satisfying jolt of his heel smashing into the slave master's arrow-shaped nose.

The impact stopped Atreus dead and launched Tarch over backward. The devil landed on his back and slid headlong toward the crevasse below. As he was about to plummet into its grinning mouth, he whipped his legs over his head and somersaulted in the air and landed on his belly, his legs dangling over the brink of the icy chasm and his talons dug deep into its rim.

"Hurry Yago!" cried Rishi's voice. "Go and finish him!"

Atreus glanced over to see Rishi rushing up behind Yago, having done exactly the opposite of what Atreus instructed. The little Mar tried to shove the terrified ogre into battle and succeeded only in convincing him to retreat farther up the hill. Atreus cocked his knee back and pushed off, launching himself at Tarch.

The devil pulled one set of claws from the ice and pointed up the slope. A roiling orange cloud erupted from his fingers Atreus smelled brimstone and scorched flesh and heard someone screaming.

He remained fully alert, gagging on the stench of his own burning flesh, watching the fire lick across his body, feeling his skin melt in the heat He saw Rishi dash across the slope to Tarch and start kicking at the claws still fastened in the ice. He heard Yago bellow, heard him come crashing across the glacier, felt the ogre's big hands rolling him through the sizzling slush, felt the icy coolness against his stinging flesh, and smelled, at last, the flames hissing into steam.

Yago pulled him into his lap and cradled him against his chest. Atreus saw Rishi at the edge of the crevasse, peering down into its blue depths. All that remained of Tarch were a few rust-colored streaks on the brink of the chasm.

"I was afraid!" Yago moaned. "You needed me, and I couldn't move."

"Not your fault."

The words echoed emptily inside Atreus's head. He could not make his lips work.

He did the same thing to me.

"I am so… sor-ry!" Yago had trouble forming this last word, which was as foreign to the ogre tongue as the term for children won in a game of knucklebones was to humans. "What happened to me?"

The ogre smashed his fist into the side of his own face. The blow struck so sharply that Rishi gave a start and nearly plummeted into the crevasse.

Yago spit an orange tooth out onto the ice, shouting, "Coward!"

Atreus fought through his pain and managed to grasp the ogre's arm. He shook his head.

Yago's eyes grew glassy. "Am so!" the ogre insisted. "You saw me… just standing there!"

"Atreus does not blame you, my friend," said Rishi. the Mar backed away from the crevasse and came up to join them, grimacing at Atreus's condition. "The same thing happened to him on the slave boat. It is the devil's touch."

"It don't matter," growled Yago. "I made the Vow. Shield-breakers aren't scared of nothing!"

"That is an impossible vow to keep. Every man fears something." Rishi grasped the ogre's elbow and urged him up the hill, saying, "And now let us go. What became of Tarch I cannot tell, but it is too much to hope that a fall of only a few hundred feet would kill him."

Yago started to rise, then caught himself and sat back down. "Let him come," he said. "I'm not running."

Atreus squeezed Yago's forearm and tried to nod. The effort sent waves of agony surging through his body, but he was terrified that the stubborn ogre would let his pride get them all killed. He could feel his own strength oozing out through his scalded pores, but just as importantly, he could tell by the nervous edge in his friend's voice that Yago was not ready to face Tarch again.

"There, do you see?" Rishi asked, motioning to Atreus's nodding head. "The good sir wants us to go. He needs Seema's help."

Yago scowled in thought, then reluctantly nodded. "Well go," he said "but not because I'm scared."

"Oh no, there has never been any question of that," agreed Rishi. "I am frightened enough for us all. You are thinking only of the good sir's welfare."

Still scowling, Yago started up the hill. Atreus's burns began to ache in earnest. He could not keep from moaning as the ogre's clothes rubbed against his raw flesh. His broken leg became a distant throbbing, and he slipped into a murky world of pain and delirium. He grew desperately thirsty and started to shiver. Yago's voice became a nightmarish roar, alternately trying to comfort Atreus and cursing himself for a coward. Amazingly enough, Rishi proved the staunch one, continually reassuring Atreus that he really looked no worse than before, perhaps even better. It was a terrible lie, of course, but exactly what Atreus needed to hear.

Sometime later — it seemed hours, but could not have been more than three or four minutes-Seema came bounding and sliding down the slope. "How bad?" she demanded, dropping the supply bundle at Yago's feet. "Put him down where I can see him. Get those rags off him. Pack him in snow. Rishi, talk to him! Keep talking _

"

Atreus's companions rushed to obey the healer's orders. His body roared with pain. When the tattered remnants of his clothes were pulled free, he could not help screaming. As much as it hurt to be touched, the cold slush had a numbing effect on his burns, and his anguish dulled to a raw ache.

Soon, he felt Seema's hands on him, rubbing his wounds with some minty-smelling potion. The sting faded completely, leaving him to a deeper anguish inside his seared muscles. Seema uttered a spell in the exotic language of her magic, then pressed her lips to Atreus's. He remembered the kiss of the day before and tried to steal another, but she only wet his lips with one of her potions, using her own tongue to dribble it into his mouth.