Are you ready to surrender?
Which do you prefer? The Arch-Rike will treat with you.
You could surrender.
Come closer and we will discuss it.
Come closer and—
One of the lizards writhed with pain and flopped on its back, twitching violently in spasms, its mind-shriek nearly knocking Annon down.
A slit opened up from its underside and Lukias crawled out, dripping with ooze and steaming in the cold air.
The other lizard-thing hissed with fury, rushing Annon viciously. As it lunged, Khiara’s staff came down on top of its bulging eye, smashing it. Again, another mind-shriek of pain that nearly bowled Annon over with its intensity.
Erasmus appeared at its tail and grabbed a strange metal object bound around it and tugged it off. It was a metal band, as thick as an iron collar but fastened to its tail.
“Annon, now!” Erasmus yelled.
He realized that the band around its tail was its protection against the elements. Annon raised his hands, spoke the words again in his mind, and unleashed a plume of fire into the lizard’s contorting bulk. This time the flames ripped into it, charring the scales and overwhelming it with pain. The creature thrashed recklessly, shrieking at the torture it was experiencing. It scuttled away from the plumes of flame, hissing in fury at him. It charged Annon, mouth gaping.
Scrambling backward, Annon unleashed the fireblood inside its widening maw. The flames wreathed around it, coursing and hissing, causing the beast to explode in a shower of ash. The flames consumed it entirely.
Annon retreated still, trembling, clutching the talisman around his neck. He knew he had almost died. He knew the Arch-Rike was expecting them and had prepared the creatures with protection against fire. He had nearly failed the others and doomed them to be ingested by giant lizards.
Lukias staggered toward him, his face pink with acid burns. He trembled as well, his eyes full of emotion and disgust at the ordeal he had survived.
“Khiara,” Annon said hoarsely. “Can you heal his injuries?”
She floated down gracefully, tossing aside her elegant staff. When her feet reached the ground, she rushed to Lukias who bent double and began to vomit. She gripped him by his shoulders, murmured soft words in the Vaettir tongue that Annon did not comprehend. But the effects of her prayer-like utterance were immediate. The acid burns on his cheeks, arms, and hands began to heal, fresh skin replacing the blisters. He continued to tremble as her power surged through him, calming him until he was resting in her embrace. Annon recalled the pleasure of being healed by a Shaliah and was grateful she had chosen to join them.
“Thank you,” Lukias said, bowing his head respectfully to Khiara. “The sensation of being healed so quickly is quite unnerving. I do not understand the power you possess, but I am in your debt.”
“It was freely given,” Khiara replied, rising and fetching her staff.
“What were those creatures?” Annon asked, staring at the gaping corpse of the one Lukias had slit his way out of. Erasmus knelt by it, studying it with obvious fascination. Nizeera prowled nearby, stalking back and forth and sensing the air for danger.
“I don’t know,” Lukias muttered. “I was not expecting them to be here. The protections I know of are inside the temple. They are equally dangerous, I assure you. This presages difficulties ahead. You recognize that, don’t you, Annon?”
The young Druidecht stared at the flat lake, dreading to go any nearer to Basilides.
“I do,” Annon answered softly, searching for a spark of courage in his heart to keep going.
“I heard this phrase once by a Vaettir, who are by nature very superstitious and believe in the existence of gods and spirit beings. It is wise nonetheless: Beauty is indeed a good gift of the gods; but that the good may not think it a great good, the gods dispense it even to the wicked. The same can be said for wisdom.”
—Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos