Ascendancy of the Last - By Lisa Smedman Page 0,76

hacked at the limb coiled around the other priestŹess. As the blade sliced through it, another limb bulged out to grab her; she sliced that one off too.

The creature spat acid. The stream struck the magical shield she’d just sung into being and deflected to the side. Again she slashed at the monster, but as her sword descended, her right foot sank into something soft, throwing her off balŹance. She glanced down. The stone floor was quivering, like quicksand. As her left foot also plunged downward, she stagŹgered and fell. She threw out a hand to halt herself, but her arm sunk into the floor, up to the elbow.

The creature rested lightly upon the vibrating floor, as if floating gently atop it.

That gave Leliana an idea. Instead of trying to rise, she dived into the quicksand. With her eyes tightly closed, she waited for the monster to pass her. When the quivering above her subsided, she twisted and found a solid surface with her feet. She shoved hard, and shot out of the quicksand behind the monster. Her sword flashed down in a deadly arc. Eyeballs exploded and teeth shattered as her sword sliced through the monster, cutting it in two.

The quicksand began to congeal. Before it could trap her, Leliana scrambled out.

The priestesses she’d led here all lay on the floor moaning, their skin burned by acid and covered in bloody bites. Leliana ached to heal them, yet there was no time. Not if the Promenade was to be saved. As she ran on to the Hall of Empty Arches, flakes of hardening stone fell from her body like dried mud.

At last she reached the hall. As she entered it, she heard a slurping sound: an ooze, departing, by the sound of it, through the exit on the far side of the chamber. She squinted against the bright sparkle of Faerzress that filled the room. She ran along the wall, her feet slipping on the slime that fouled the floor. She peered down each of the spaces between the partiŹtions in turn.

“Naxil!” she shouted. “Are you here?”

Up ahead, she spotted a misshapen lump of flesh, in front of the portal that led here from the abandoned mine tunnels. Her throat caught—until she realized, by the partially disŹsolved chunks of chain mail armor the body had been wearing, that this wasn’t Naxil. It must have been the priestess Chizra had left behind. Soggy fragments of curled paper lay next to the body: the scrolls the priestess had held. They were rapidly turning to mush as the acid dissolved them. One scroll, howŹever, had landed just beyond the spray of acid that glistened on the walls and floor.

Breathing in shallow gulps—the smell was nauseating—Leliana ran to the spot where it lay. A mottled purple eyestalk bulged out of the arch as she passed. She twisted aside to avoid it and scooped up the scroll, hoping it was one she could use. She whirled, shaking it open one-handed. She didn’t dare let go of the singing sword, as it was the only thing that would cut through another sound-based attack.

To her infinite relief, the scroll held a portal-sealing spell. She began to sing the hymn inscribed on it.

A second eyestalk bulged out of the portal, followed by the head of the creature: a purple slug the size of a horse, its mottled flesh studded with twisted chunks of rusted metal. One of these scraped against the side of the arch with a sound like a sword being dragged across a whetstone. Its rump slid through just as Leliana finished the hymn. A ripple of magical energy filled the archway, sealing the portal behind the monster.

Leliana dropped the scroll—now blank—and lifted her sword. She braced herself as the slug slid toward her. She’d take off the eyestalks first.

The slug halted. A loud humming filled the air. The acid-pitted remains of the dead priestess’s chain mail vest flew at the monster. So did the clasp on Leliana’s borrowed piwafwi. She felt a yank on her sword, and though she clung to it with all her strength, it flew from her hands. Last to go was her holy symbol. The mithral chain around her neck snapped and flew at the slug, the miniature sword trailing after it. All stuck to the creature’s slimy body—except the silver holy symbol, which by Eilistraee’s infinite grace dangled from its chain, refusing to adhere.

The slug reared up, exposing a puckered mouth. It yawned open, revealing rows of needle-pointed teeth.

Leliana