James Ward - Pools of Darkness

An emerald streak erupted from Evaine's hand, encircling the monster. The energy sizzled, but then dissipated in a shower of green sparks. The abishai was wounded, but resisted the full effect of the spell.

Andoralson released a blue surge of energy. It divided into thousands of pinpoints of light, like a swarm of turquoise fireflies. The lights swirled around the beast, blinding it and disorienting it. Again, the abishai screamed in pain as each spark burned into leathery flesh. The fiend's own talons ripped into its muscle as it tried to pull out the scorching magic. An acrid, bitter smoke curled around the horrid beast as it teetered and stumbled about the clearing in a bizarre dance.

Gamaliel leaped for the creature's back, claws extended. He landed solidly on the smoking abishai and wasted no time raking and shredding the monster's flesh. Miltiades and Ren faced the green beast, swinging carefully calculated blows at its writhing form. Four hard sword strikes finally brought the wounded creature to its leathery knees, and Gamaliel dealt the final blow by pouncing full-force on the abishai's head, snapping its neck.

Each of the companions dropped into the trampled grass in the clearing, gasping for air. Even Miltiades creaked his body onto the ground. No one spoke for several minutes.

It was Miltiades who broke the silence. "I'm proud to call you my comrades! I had my doubts about this group, but you are an excellent team." The paladin stood and bowed deeply to the group.

"We couldn't have done it without you, warrior. I think I speak for all of us when I say we're proud to have you on this quest." Ren nodded respectfully to Miltiades. The others voiced their agreement.

Evaine rose and grasped the paladin's hand. "If it hadn't been for your magical ring, I might have lost Gam. I can't thank you enough for your generosity."

Andoralson sighed loudly. "I just hope this isn't an indication of what the rest of the day will be like. We haven't even had breakfast yet, and we've battled three abishai! I don't know about anyone else, but I'm starving." The druid arose and loaded wood onto the embers of the campfire. "Gamaliel, if you feel up to hunting us some breakfast, I'll cook anything you bring us."

The cat was on his feet in a flash. Evaine laughed. "I hope no one minds fish for breakfast. I know what he's in the mood for. Gamaliel, if you can sniff out a stream, come back for the rest of us. We're all a mess after that battle. Just look at your fur!"

The feline glanced down at his coat to find that he looked like a bedraggled panther. His tawny fur was all but dyed by abishai blood. Gamaliel raised his pink nose high in the air, made a prideful comment to his mistress, then turned toward the woods. Evaine laughed as she translated for the others. "He says he doesn't look like a mess-he looks like a hero!"

Marcus's red tower shook to its very core. If not for the magic holding the blood-colored stones together, the building would have crumbled.

"My abishai have been killed! Latenat!" the pit fiend hissed at Marcus. The creature circled the inner chamber at the top of the tower, half-flying, half-hopping. Its great wings pounded the walls as it paced.

"Killed? How in the world did you allow my guardians to be killed?" Marcus shrieked.

"Arrrgh! Do you think I let them die? I don't know what killed them! Their life essences were snuffed out, and since you ordered them to guard your domain, their deaths are on your hands. Latenat!"

The wizard's face flushed deep red, beads of sweat erupting on his forehead. "Are you somehow blaming me for this? It was your duty to guard this tower and build armies so I could lead them to victory, conquering Phlan! You have now failed me. We both know what happens to my servants when they fail."

The fiend still bashed about in the black chamber. If not for Marcus's control of the creature's life essence and his knowledge of its true name, the fiend could have squashed the wizard in an instant. Instead, he was forced to obey the human weakling. But he had already tolerated far more than any pit fiend should.

The fiend kept circling and thrashing as Marcus continued his diatribe. The beast was only half-listening to the wizard. He had heard all these rantings too many times before. Then the Red Wizard spoke the pit fiend's name, summoning the creature's heart from the magical dimension where he kept the beating organ.

"On your knees, beast," he said. "I will speak to you, and it will be eye to eye."

In defiance, the winged horror flapped halfway around the chamber one last time, halting in front of Marcus. The Red Wizard raised the fiend's heart and slowly squeezed until a half-dozen drops of black ichor leaked out, splashing onto the granite floor with a sizzle.

The fiend groaned as his knees dropped to the scarred floor. He glared at his tormentor. "What would you have of me… master? Latenat!"

"For a time, you and I will change roles. I will guard the tower and you will use your puny powers to force Phlan to submit to me. I will summon more clerics and wizards to help in your struggle."

"That won't be necessary," the fiend growled. It struggled to its leathery feet and stalked out of the chamber. "I'll destroy Phlan myself within two days."

Marcus snorted an arrogant laugh as the creature disappeared. "We'll see about that, braggart. Phlan may break you on its walls and teach you a good lesson in the process. Now, I have a little searching to do. I plan to have several unpleasant surprises ready for the dogs who dared to kill my abishai. And those beauties were mine, Tanetal! I don't care what you think!" Marcus shouted at the empty chamber and the closed door.

In another tower, an angry voice was also heard. But this time, it was the wizard Shal who was being scolded.

"Shal, you should never have attacked that mage in your condition. That shadow attack nearly killed you. If Cerulean hadn't had the sense to retreat and bring you back to the tower, you would have died horribly."

Shal tried to raise her head to argue, but she dropped back onto her pillow. Her face was the color of barley mush, her skin clammy. Tarl had used the healing power of the Warhammer of Tyr to restore her strength and sanity, but there were some things the hammer couldn't cure so quickly.

Shal looked pleadingly at Celie, who sat at her side, dabbing her face with a moist cloth. A covered basket loaded with poppyseed cakes was perched on the bedside table.

"Don't look at me, missy. Your husband is right to worry. You've been with child only five months, yet it looks now as if you'll be ready to deliver in a few weeks. I don't know much about magic, but I can see what this exertion is doing to you. The way this baby is kicking, he's not going to stay cooped up much longer." The bakerwoman's voice was stern, but her blue eyes were caring and soothing.

Shal realized there was no arguing with Tarl and Celie. The wizard spoke in a whisper. "I thought if I could kill the red mage who was leading the attacks against Phlan, our troubles would be over. I never dreamed he was powerful enough to cast spells like that."

Tarl caressed his wife's forehead, speaking softly to her. "That's all very noble, but you have a child to think about. A few months ago, I wouldn't have questioned you going after him like that. But you know better than anyone the way high-powered spells can age a wizard. You've already accelerated this pregnancy. What if the baby decided his-or her-time was up while you were flying around up there? I could have lost you both!"

"You're right. It was foolish to take on that crazed wizard all by myself. I'll be more careful." Then to put Tarl's mind at ease, Shal turned to Celie. "Are those poppyseed cakes I'm smelling?" She knew her husband would worry less if she ate something.