was an unwieldy weapon, but the Legions drilled constantly with the things. The javelin’s heavy iron point landed against an Immortal’s neck, crunching through the chain mail. The Immortal managed to keep his feetdespite the grievous wound, at least until Laertes smashed his shield against the javelin. The Immortal went down, and Laertes ran to assist Nasser, catching a scimitar blow upon his heavy shield.
Nerina finished reloading her crossbow, and Caina gestured to Malcolm. As promised, the blacksmith knew how to wield the chain whip. He spun it over his head, the chain a dark blur, and thrust his arm. The whip coiled around the legs of a nearby Immortal, and Malcolm yanked. The Immortal went off his feet with a clang of armor, and Caina stabbed her ghostsilver dagger into his neck. She ripped the weapon free, the blade shining with blood, and ducked as Malcolm swung the whip over her head. This time the chain lash coiled around the neck of an Immortal with so much force that Caina heard bones snap. Another Immortal ran at Malcolm, only for one of Nerina’s crossbow quarrels to sprout from his chest.
Caina looked around for another target, but saw the surviving Immortals retreating to the Hall of Flames. Nearly a score of black-armored forms lay dead or dying upon the floor, their blood spilling across the gleaming marble. None of her companions had been slain, but more Immortals were gathering in the Hall of Flames, preparing for another charge.
“They’re falling back,” said Laertes.
Kylon grunted, shaking blood from the valikon’s shining blade. “Most likely to flank us. Rolukhan is a scoundrel, but he’s not a fool. He’ll send Immortals through the Hall of Flames to attack us head-on, but he’ll also dispatch another group to sneak quietly through the Hall of Forges and attack us from the back.
“Let’s fall back ourselves, then,” said Caina. “But quietly. If Rolukhan realizes that we know what he’s doing, he might spring his trap early. Or use a more powerful spell that sleeping mist. If we can get to the Halls of the Dead, he won’t be able to follow us.”
Nasser nodded, and they backed away from the Hall of Flames, towards the arch that led to the fiery glow from the Hall of Forges. The Immortals remained motionless in the Hall of Flames, their blue-glowing eyes shining behind their masks of black steel.
Caina risked a glance into the Hall of Forges. She saw nothing moving there. Perhaps the Immortals had not yet gotten into position. Caina and the others could make a run for it, reach the stairs to the Halls of the Dead, and retreat to the lower levels before the Immortals followed.
“Balarigar!”
The voice boomed from the ceiling overhead, carried on the power of a spell. It was Malik Rolukhan’s voice, deep and sonorous and confident. Kylon stiffened at its sound.
“He is in the Hall of Flames,” murmured Annarah, her pyrikon shifting back to the form of a staff. “I can sense the currents of his spell.”
“Come out, Balarigar!” said Rolukhan, mockery entering his tone. “Come out! Surely the great bane of the Brotherhood should not fear one old man.”
“I can make it so he can hear you,” said Kylon, “if you wish.”
“Do it,” said Caina. “If we can distract him, maybe I can throw him off his guard.”
Kylon nodded and lifted his hand, a faint flicker of arcane power causing Caina’s skin to tingle. The air before her head seemed to go out of focus a little.
“Rolukhan!” she said, and her voice thundered through the Hall of Torments. Gods, but that was loud. “What do you wish of me?”
“Come to me, Balarigar, and surrender yourself,” said Rolukhan, the smooth mockery never leaving his amplified voice. “Surrender to me, and I shall permit your companions to live.”
“Will you?” said Caina. “I rather doubt that. The Master Alchemists are known for many things, but clemency is not one of them.”
Rolukhan’s answering chuckle rumbled off the walls. “True. So our clemency is all the more valuable for its rarity.”
“Tell me,” said Caina. “If you want me alive, why don’t you come and claim me yourself? Surely that would be little challenge for a man with the powers of a Master Alchemist.”
Rolukhan’s chuckle turned to open laughter. “Because I am not foolish enough to put myself into your grasp! I know your reputation. I know the things you have done, and heard more tales of your exploits from the Empire. Every assassin, bounty hunter, and Teskilati informant