beard, steel-blue eyes. Voice that could command gods. He sounds worried
.
Focus and concern, worry and decision, lightning clashes of emotions and drives
Lancing light stabbing behind … through … beneath … into eyes, mind, soul
A child dances through a puddle, laughing at the spray and smiling at the rainbow overhead, then the violet drips off the bow’s bottom and floods over the street. Hands reach from the slough and teeth grow in the puddles
.
Surprise and shock, then a stray thought of gems
“Concentrate, girl. Use your mind, Tsarra. Come back to us.”
I know him. Master Arunsun. Help me, master!
A delicate elf’s face, ragged with mummification and a veil of webs, a purple gem glistening on the bridge of her nose …
decay mixed with dust and the sharp tang of recent spellwork
“Tsarra, they’re only memories. Ignore them and join us.”
the whisper of time’s touch, the tug of the spider’s cloak, the chill of time gone by and death interred
Lightning bolts flashing—one, two, three; wait for the crashing—deafening to me
The sewer’s darkness suddenly swells, an eyeless face pushing itself through the grate, and its teeth are not hampered as its head reforms and lunges …
Pain brings focus and terror as its teeth gnaw through my arm, gnashing, grinding, and my arm falls away, its protection gone and the teeth geyser toward my eyes …
“Child, awaken!”
Her scream launched her upright, the two archmages around her rearing back in surprise. Her dress clung to her sweat-covered body, and Tsarra could do nothing but gasp for air, her lungs fighting to breathe. Khelben and Laeralhelped her lie back down onto the bed, their faces filled with concern. Above them, Nameless settled back down onto the wide headboard above her, his green and blue eyes wide with surprise and his tail and wings twitching nervously. She felt as well as heard his low growl reverberating through the wooden headboard and silently willed him to calm himself.
“Nameless has been reluctant to let us near you, dear. I’ve never known a familiar to be quite so protective.” Laeral dabbed Tsarra’s brow with a cold cloth, and smiled at her.
A malevolent cackle—“Do you still wish to bed me, Blackstaff? Do you wish to know
this
Laeral whose petty morals lie in ashes?” Blood ran freely across hate-twisted features as the horns continued to push their way out through her skin
.
Tsarra’s eyes widened, and she recoiled from Laeral’s touch. She didn’t even realize she’d begun a spell until Khelben grabbed both her hands and held them still.
“Enough, Tsarra! Close your eyes and breathe.” Khelben’s stern whisper thundered through her aching head. “Get back into yourself so we may both shoulder our burdens.” His voice sounded heavy as he placed her hands back in her lap and rose along with Laeral to the far side of the room.
Tsarra closed her eyes. Her sides were taut with fear, and it took time before she relaxed and her breath came easily. The feel of her own room and bed and the comforting scents helped, though how she got there she didn’t know. It was highsun when the ritual began, but the night sky hung black outside her window.
How long was I unconscious? she wondered.
Flapping wings whipped by her head, and a weight landed on her lap. He uttered a series of meows and yowls, which Tsarra understood as,
“Happynow mistresssafe. Longnapgood? Washsickscent you must. Scratchtweenwingsnow.”
He rubbed his scent markers against her palm and nestled into her lap. Tsarra happily obliged him by scratching him just between his wings at the shoulders. Across theroom, she could hear Khelben and Laeral talking, though they kept their voices low. Tsarra lets the tressym’s deep purr help her relax, but she suddenly tensed and her eyes snapped open.
“Danthra—is she all right?”
Lord and Lady Arunsun looked at her with sad eyes, and Tsarra’s heart sank. She wanted to mourn her
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