T Lain - Plague of Ice

At that, Hennet tossed his short spear straight at the door. The mephits instinctively dodged away from the weapon. When it struck the hard basalt, the way to the door was clear. With a lunge, Hennet plucked the falling spear before it could clatter to the floor. Swinging their weapons to hold back the mephits, Hennet, Sonja, and Lidda rushed the door and forced it open. A sudden blast of cold assaulted their faces. Outside and in natural light once again, they immediately swung round to face the door, ready to slam it shut in the mephits’ faces.

Before they could do that, a half dozen or more mephits swarmed the doorway and loosed their icy breath, pelting their enemies with stinging shards of ice that gushed from their mouths and shattered against the backs of Sonja, Lidda and Hennet. The pain and the cold were dulled by their heavy coats, so that the shock of the attack was the worst of it. That was sufficient, however, to knock them sprawling to the ground, unable even to keep their grips on their weapons.

The mephits swept through the doorway, ready to mercilessly slaughter the nearly helpless trio as they scrambled for their weapons. Before the first blow could fall, another voice rang out from across the stark, snow-covered field.

“Halt!”

Regdar stood almost precisely in front of the rift, that point toward which flew all of the snow swirling above them. He hadn’t drawn his greatsword, but rather he held his right fist high above his head.

“Observe your precious trinket!” Regdar shouted. He opened his fist and out fell the Ilskynarawin, glowing like a tiny sun, dangling on the gold chain tightly wrapped around his fingers. The mephits ceased their assault on Hennet, Sonja, and Lidda entirely, giving them time to reclaim their weapons and pull themselves to their feet.

Those mephits that were in the air drifted to the ground. All of them stared at the precious artifact they coveted so completely. A reverent silence fell over the nameless city, broken only by the ever-present rush of wind.

“What is he doing?” whispered Hennet to the others. Lidda shook her head in puzzlement, but a wide smile crossed Sonja’s features.

Regdar turned around, the Frozen Pendant still clutched firmly in his fist, until he almost faced the rift itself but could still keep his eyes on the mephits. A look of hard resolve covered his face, mixed improbably with the expression of a schoolboy about to do something altogether naughty.

“If you want it…” he yelled as he began swinging the pendant. The mephits let out a collective shriek as they realized what was happening.

“… come and get it!”

Regdar released the pendant. It flew directly into the portal, traveling only a few feet before it vanished in thin air before him. The mephits’ collective screeching increased in pitch as they saw their prize disappear and realized how terribly they’d been cheated.

Then they raged.

The Frozen Pendant’s principal power was to open a hole into the para-elemental Plane of Ice from the Prime Material Plane, allowing a torrent of ice and cold to blast through. The mephits understood that there was perhaps only one place in all the multiverse where this power was wholly and utterly neutralized.

That was precisely where Regdar had sent it—the Plane of Ice.

Regdar pulled his greatsword from its scabbard and readied himself for the expected onslaught of mephits. After their shriek faded, however, they stood eerily still, all staring at Regdar with their tiny j aws hanging open in shock and disbelief. A new imperative rang through their collective mind. They needed to go back through the rift. They needed to find the artifact and bring it back through to this plane.

That meant getting past Regdar. Only getting past him wasn’t good enough. He needed to be slain for what he’d done. In blind anger, just as Regdar had hoped, they emptied the strongest weapon in their collective arsenal directly at him.

The missiles that streaked from their breasts toward Regdar weren’t green like Hennet’s but shades of orange and red, the colors of fire that the mephits so despised. Their blasts rocketed across the white field, and for a brief moment Regdar contemplated letting himself fall backward through the rift to escape them. Fortunately, he decided it was best to stay in the plane he knew. The missiles slammed weakly against his breastplate. The flurry of impacts pushed him backward, but he knew that if he kept his footing he would be safe.

One of the mephits nearest him tried to take advantage of Regdar’s brief distraction to slip right past him into the rift, swooping down from above. It was a good plan with one lethal flaw. However it approached, the mephit needed to dive to Regdar’s level to get through the rift itself. When it drew close, Regdar swung his heavy weapon upward, catching its wings and sending it tumbling to the ground. It opened its mouth to cry for help, but no sound came out before Regdar struck the tiny blue head from the body.

At this spectacle, the other mephits took to the air, too, flying through the swirling snow on straining wings, screeching as loudly as they could. Lidda fired her crossbow into the sky, hoping that she might strike one in the mass, while Hennet and Sonja rushed to aid Regdar in defending the rift.

With a reptilian roar and rush of cold air that altered the flow of the wind momentarily, Glaze swooped past and alighted on the side of his tower lair. Quickly he scrambled about, pointing his head down the tower in preparation for launching himself into another pass. In their earlier encounter, the dragon had nearly collided with the ground when forced to perform this maneuver unexpectedly. He knew better this time, and he understood that even his mighty wings were no match for the zephyrs howling toward the rift. This time he scuttled almost to the ground, below the wind, before launching himself from the tower toward Regdar. The warrior faced him with sword raised, ready for the dragon to burst across the far side of the rift like a juggernaut.

“I know what he’s doing,” Sonja mumbled.

The dragon intended to chase, or if necessary carry, Regdar from his place guarding the rift. This would give the mephits a chance to slip through to the other side and reclaim the Ilskynarawin.

“Stand guard here,” she said to the others when they were assembled before the rift. Even as she spoke, the dragon was dropping from the tower. “Hold this position no matter what. I’ll take care of Glaze. By the way,” she added, “you may want to shield your ears.”

“Why?” asked Regdar.

Sonja had no time to answer. Her robes clung to her form, her hair rose and crackled, and the sharp smell of a brewing storm filled the air as electricity arced over the cold ocean of blue in Sonja’s eyes. A second later, a blinding zigzag of light flashed down from the clouds above, simultaneously with a deafening thunderclap that resonated against the far towers and echoed down the valley. The perfectly aimed lightning bolt blasted the young dragon out of the air. Glaze plummeted to the snowy plaza like a side of beef. Mephits scattered in all directions, cowering away from the noise and the brightness of Sonja’s heartstopping spell.

Regdar and Hennet, too, almost lost control of their instincts and dived for cover, but Lidda smiled calmly at the display, which put all powderworks she’d witnessed to shame. Lightning from a snowstorm was possible after all. Sonja had proved it.

The air was curiously calm after the burst, and so was Sonja. Her hair and clothes hung limp, yet she seemed energized. Eyes blazing, fingertips glowing, she appeared every inch a witch of nature as she turned her stare on Glaze.

The dragon was not dead. From a crumpled tangle of wings and tail and neck, he sprang into a catlike crouch, tattered wings folded sleekly against his flanks. He would not fly again without months of rest and recuperation to his damaged wings. Pale, purple eyes flared at Sonja, matching the druid’s gaze in intensity and anger.