sign of the thing at all. Had it settled once again beneath them? Did it coil there quietly in the dark and rest in order to heal the wounds inflicted upon it? That was possible, but Lanrik knew it was not the truth.
If it was not in the pit, where then could it be? With growing certainty he realized. It was before them on the ledge, hidden in the long shadows cast by Erlissa’s light. And they were running straight toward it.
Even as he grasped that thought he looked ahead beyond the jostling forms of Erlissa and Aranloth, and caught sight of it.
The black-skinned serpent lay lengthwise along the ledge, its great tail disappearing in the dark. Its whole body was flattened, pressed down low to the stone. It held its head low and still.
“Stop and duck!” he cried.
The other two obeyed instantly. At the sound of his voice the creature stirred. Thirty paces ahead of them, its head lifted. Black eyes bored into them, malice drove through the air like twin spears.
Lanrik drew his bow and prepared to shoot, though what good it would do he was not sure.
12. A Wind of Dust
Lanrik let fly the shaft.
Even as it sped from the bow, Aranloth gave a flick of his staff and a spark of white lòhrengai shot from its tip to join the arrow’s flight.
The serpent reared, fangs bared. The arrow took it below its lower jaw and stuck there. It did not penetrate deeply, driving only some six inches into the creature’s muscle-hardened flesh. It reared back, angry but unaffected.
With a sudden hiss and strike, it spat venom at them. A blue shield sprang up. Erlissa stood tall behind it. Aranloth leaned on his staff and panted. He had already spent what little strength he had on the spark, and whatever he had tried with that had failed.
Lanrik slung the bow over his shoulder and drew Conhain’s sword. It glittered in the eerie light. When the shield faltered, he would charge past the other two. If lòhrengai and arrow-shaft could not kill this thing, perhaps Halathrin steel could.
The blue shield flickered. He stepped forward, but suddenly the long arm of the lòhren reached out and gripped his arm.
“Hold!” Aranloth commanded.
Lanrik could not break free. The lòhren’s grip was surprisingly strong, yet every moment that passed was a lost opportunity, for the serpent would renew its supply of venom, and the time to attack was just after it had depleted it.
But Aranloth held him firm, and in a moment Lanrik saw why. The arrow still jutted from the creature’s flesh. It was too shallow of a strike to do any real damage, and the venom on the barbed head, if venom it was, had at best been a faint hope. Yet the spark of lòhrengai that Aranloth had sent with it caught on the shaft and grew. White streaks ran along its length, and they sought the arrowhead and the venom covering it. When they found it, sparks flew from the serpent’s flesh, spurting out of the wound. The red skin blistered, and then blackened from within.
The serpent thrashed. Its long form smashed into the wall and then much of its body swung out over the pit. There it hung and whipped around wildly while white flame erupted from its flesh. A moment later it slid into the pit, coiled and thrashing, the great tail twisting and spraying up bones.
“Run!” cried the lòhren.
Erlissa streaked ahead in the dark, the light of her staff bobbing madly. Aranloth stumbled forward. From where he drew his reserve of strength, Lanrik did not know. But he was near the end of it and would likely not reach the bottom of the ledge. Not swiftly enough anyway, for already the serpent seemed to cease its lashing and to gather itself.
Lanrik came up beside the lòhren, took him in his arms, and lifted him. In that way they sped down the ledge.
The lòhren was heavy. Though he appeared like an old man, he weighed like a warrior, dense with muscle.
Erlissa had drawn ahead, but she paused a moment and waited for them to catch up. In those moments the serpent rose again. The arrow had broken off or burnt away, and the skin of its neck hung in blackened shreds. Dark blood seeped forth and heavy drops fell onto the white bones below. The serpent hissed, a sound filled with hatred and pain. Aranloth’s lòhrengai had worked. It had reacted in some way with the