Томас Рейд - Insurrection

Something caught Ryld's eye, and he had his crossbow up and was sighting down the shaft in an instant. A winged figure, bobbing and weaving haphazardly, emerged from the smoke, coming for their position. It was a drow, possibly, though it had wings, and it bore a rather large bundle. The warrior could tell something was wrong by the erratic way it was flying. Suddenly, he recognized it—the demon from Ammarindar!

He had his finger on the trigger, ready to fire a bolt through her heart, before he realized she was carrying Pharaun.

As the demon closed in on the edge of the building, she seemed to lose her balance, and Ryld literally had to reach out and grab her as she went by. All three of them tumbled to the stone in a heap at Jeggred's feet. The draegloth stepped between the beautiful creature and the rest of the team.

«You!» Quenthel hissed, her scourge raised, ready to strike. «What are you doing here?»

The fiend, whom Pharaun referred to as Aliisza, Ryld remembered, eyed both Jeggred and the high priestess warily as she panted where she'd fallen. She made no move to defend herself.

«Bringing your precious wizard back to you, drow,» she muttered. «I know how fond you are of him.»

«He's hurt,» Ryld said, turning the mage over.

Everyone but Jeggred gathered around as the weapons master began to examine Pharaun. It didn't take him long to find the puncture wound in the wizard's shoulder, a portion of a crossbow bolt still lodged in it. Most of the shaft had snapped off during his crash landing.

«The bolt is poisoned,» Quenthel said, standing over Pharaun's prone body. «Healing him won't do a bit of good unless we get the poison out of his blood first. If we don't, he'll die.»

«I could have told you that,» Aliisza said, sitting up, though she was still breathing heavily from her ordeal. «Here … he insisted we bring these.»

She tossed two backpacks at Quenthel's feet.

«So, how do we remove the poison?» Ryld asked Quenthel, looking up from where he was tending to the Master of Sorcere. «Do any of you have the magic to do so?»

Quenthel shook her head.

«Yngoth can sense it in his body,» she said, patting the whip that was once again hanging from her hip, «but my spells are, of course, lost.»

Ryld looked at both Halisstra and Danifae.

«How about either of you?»

Both females shook their heads.

«I dabble in a bit of arcane magic,» Halisstra confessed, «but I am not yet powerful enough to eliminate poison.»

Jeggred continued his vigil over Aliisza but said, «Perhaps our good friend the ambassador had some means of aiding him.»

The draegloth nudged the satchel at his feet.

«You'd better hope she did,» Ryld muttered at the unconscious Pharaun, sliding the pack over toward Quenthel. «There's nothing else we can do for you, my friend.»

Pharaun was sweating profusely. Ryld knew the wizard might be their single best chance to escape the city. If they lost him, they might very well be trapped, unless Valas could find a way out.

Quenthel began rummaging through Faeryl's things, flinging clothing and personal items to the side. As she dug her way toward the bottom, Ryld thought he heard the high priestess mutter something disparaging about the ambassador and a comment about her being a waste of space then her face brightened as she pulled a thick tube free.

«Ah ha!» she said triumphantly. «Let's hope these are spells.»

She opened the tube, slid out a handful of parchment pages and unfurled them, scanning their contents quickly.

«Oh, how delightful,» she said. «Faeryl, you clever girl, where in the Underdark did you steal these from?»

Both Halisstra and Danifae crowded around the Mistress of Arach-Tinilith, each of them trying to get a glimpse of what was on the pages. The weapons master could see looks of elation on their faces.

«Is there anything helpful?» Ryld demanded. «Something to neutralize the poison?»

«I don't know, yet,» Quenthel snapped. «Give me a moment.»

She continued to scan the pages, leafing through them rapidly.

«Several of these could prove quite helpful,» she said, «but I don't see—oh, wait. Yes! Pharaun Mizzrym, you are in luck. Give me some room,» she said, motioning for Ryld to move out of the way

The weapons master did so, sliding off to the side as Quenthel knelt beside the wizard. Laying one hand atop the wound, the high priestess began chanting, reading through the words on the scroll in her hand. There was a tiny flash of light as the handwritten text vanished from the page, and a soft glow passed through Pharauns body, emanating from the point where Quenthel's hand touched him.

Almost immediately, the Master of Sorcere's breathing slowed, and he seemed more relaxed. His eyes were still closed, but he was smiling.

«My thanks, Mistress Quenthel,» he said, and he sounded about as sincere as Ryld had ever heard him. «I ran into a spot of trouble at the inn, you see. A couple of fellows in the employ of Matron Mother Zauvirr were decidedly unhappy that I paid the place a visit. They caught me off guard.»

«I find that terribly difficult to believe,» Ryld said, eyeing Aliisza, who was still sitting on the opposite side of Jeggred.

«Yes, well, I'm sure you could have given them a lesson or two on how to more accurately find the most vulnerable point in a wizard's defenses.»

«All right,» the high priestess said, standing again. «Get that out of his shoulder, and I can heal him.»

She went over to her own pack, where she tucked the scrolls, back in their protective tube, into a pocket. She began fishing around in another section of the container and produced a wand, which Ryld recognized from before.

The weapons master turned his attention back to the broken end of the bolt. He checked to see if it was lodged against any bone, and when he was satisfied that it was not, he gave a fierce shove, pushing the head through Pharauns shoulder and out the back side.

Pharaun arched his back and cried out in pain.

«Damn it, Master Argith,» he muttered finally, breathing fast. «You certainly know how to welcome a friend back.»

The wizard closed his eyes, still grimacing.

«I think the greeting was entirely appropriate for someone who managed to get himself shot,» Ryld replied, once more making room for Quenthel to work her own magic.

The high priestess waved her wand over the freshly bleeding puncture and muttered a trigger word. The flesh that was exposed began to knit itself together, closing the hole and forming a pale gray scar on his jet black flesh, Pharaun sighed as Quenthel stood up once more.

«There,» she said, returning the wand to her pack. «Now, try to avoid crossbow bolts. There's only so much of that to go around.»

Ryld threw a glance at Halisstra and saw the drow priestess looking jealous as she watched Quenthel store away the wand.

To the victor goes the spoils, he thought grimly. You bowed your head to her and named her your mistress. . don't expect any generosity in return.

Pharaun was sitting up, helped by Danifae. He looked around. When he spotted Aliisza, still being guarded by the draegloth, he grimaced and pulled his hand free from the battle captive's. Ryld glanced over and saw that the dark-haired beauty was frowning severely.

Uh oh, Ryld thought. This smacks of a jealous lover. Surely the wizard isn't that big a fool, to lie with a demon. .

Pharaun managed to get to his feet and move over to where the demon sat.

«It's all right,» he said to Jeggred as he passed. «You can stand down. She's not going to bite.»

Jeggred studiously ignored the wizard and maintained his position.

«Look, I owe you for this,» he said, speaking low but not so quietly that Ryld couldn't hear the conversation.