The Fallen Fortress - By R. A. Salvatore Page 0,108

expressions brightened at Cad-derly's approach, and they motioned for him to go to Ivan, lying, pale as death, on a nearby cot.

Cadderiy knelt beside the yellow-bearded dwarf, amazed that Ivan still drew breath, given the sheer number of garish wounds he had suffered. The young priest realized that Ivan, for all his toughness, didn't have much time, and knew that he had to somehow find the strength to follow the song to the sphere of healing and bring forth powerful magics.

Quietly, Cadderiy began to chant, and he heard the music, but it was distant, so distant. Cadderiy mentally reached for it, felt the pressure in his temples, and closed his eyes as he fell into its flow, guiding it along. He swam past the notes of the minor spells of healing, knowing they would be of little use in tending the dwarf's most serious wounds. The song built to a thrumming crescendo in his thoughts, moved at Cadderly's demand into the realm of the greatest spells of healing.

The next thing the young priest knew, he was lying on the floor, looking up into Danica's concerned expression. She helped him back to a sitting position and he looked upon Ivan hopelessly.

"Cadderiy?" Danica asked, and the young priest could think of several questions reflected in that one word.

"He is too tired," Dorigen answered, coming to kneel beside them both. The wizard looked into Cadderly's hollowed gray eyes and nodded, and understood.

"I must access the magic," the young priest said determinedly, and he fell right back into the song, fought hard, for now it seemed to him even more distant

Twenty minutes passed before he woke up the next time, and Cadderiy knew then that he would need several more hours of rest before he could even attempt to get into the greatest levels of healing magic again. He knew, too, in looking at the dwarf, that Ivan would not live that Icrtig.

"Why do you do this to me?" Cadderiy asked aloud, asked his god, and all those about him regarded him curiously.

"Deneir," he explained privately to Danica. "He has abandoned me in my time of desperation. I cannot believe that he will let Ivan die."

"Your god does not control the minor fetes of minor players," Dorigen said, again moving close to the two.

Cadderiy shot her a derisive glance that plainly asked what the wizard might know of it

"I understand the properties of magic," Dorigen replied squarely against that arrogant expression. "The magic remains to be accessed, but you have not the strength. The failing is not Deneir's."

Danica moved as if to strike out at the woman, but Cadderiy grabbed the monk immediately and held her back, nodding his head in agreement with Dorigen.

"And so your magic is held," Dorigen remarked. "Is that all that you have to offer the dying dwarf?"

At first, Cadderiy took her unexpected words to mean that he should bid Ivan farewell, as a friend would do, but after a moment's thinking, the young priest came to interpret the words in a different way. He motioned Danica away, spent a long minute in contemplation, searching for some possible answers.

"Your ring," he remarked to Vander suddenly.

The firbolg glanced quickly at his hand, but the initial excitement of the group died away immediately. "It will not work," Vander explained. "The ring must be worn while the wounds are received."

"Give it to me, I beg," Cadderiy said, not letting down a bit in light of the grim explanation. He took the ring from the willing firbolg and slipped it over his own finger.

"There are two types of healing magic," Cadderiy explained to Vander and the others. "Two types, though I have called only upon the method that begs the blessing of the gods to mend torn skin and broken bones."

Danica started to inquire further, but Cadderiy had closed his eyes and was already beginning to sing once more. It took him some time to catch up to the flow of the song. Again he felt the pressure in his temples as he followed its tiring current, but he kept heart, knowing that this time, he would not have to go so far.

The four friends and Dorigen gathered around the cot, and gasped in unison as Ivan's severe throat wound simply disappeared, then gasped again as it reappeared on Cad-derly's neck!

Blood bubbled from the young priest's opened throat as he continued to force the words from his mouth. Another of Ivan's wounds was erased from the dwarf's body, to appear in a similar position