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.So it was as Newander called again to the heavy black cloud, directing its fury.The thunderstroke shook the mountains for many miles around, sent the surprised eagle spinning away blindly, and nearly knocked Newander from his feet.When his sight returned, the druid saw that the cliff face was clear, the aerie was safe.The su-monsters were nowhere to be seen, and the only evidence that they had ever been there was a long scorch mark, a dripping crimson stain along the mountain wall, and a small tuft of fur, a severed tail perhaps, burning on a shallow ledge.The eagle flew to its nest, squawked happily, and soared down to thank the druid."You are very welcome," the druid assured the bird.In conversing with the eagle, he felt much better about his own destructive actions.Like most druids, Newander was a gentle sort, and he was always uncomfortable when called to battle.The fact that the cloud had answered his summons, a calling power that he believed came from Silvanus, also gave him confidence that he had acted correctly, that the su-monsters were indeed monsters and no natural predators.Newander interpreted the next series of the eagle's caws as an invitation to join the bird at its aerie.The druid would have loved that, but the cliff across the way was too formidable a barrier with night fast approaching."Another day," he replied.The eagle cackled a few more thanks, then, explaining that many preparations were still needed for the coming brood, bade the druid farewell and soared off.Newander watched the bird fly away with sincere lament.He wished that he was more skilled at his religion; druids of higher rank, including both Arcite and Cleo, could actually assume the form of animals.If Newander were as skilled as either of them, he could simply shed his light robes and transform himself into an eagle, joining his new friend on the high, shallow ledge.Even more enticing, as an eagle Newander could explore these majestic mountains from a much improved viewpoint, with the wind breaking over Percival wings and eyes sharp enough to sort out the movements of a field mouse from a mile up.He shook his head and shook away, too, his laments for what could not be.It was a beautiful day, with a cleansing shower dose at hand, full of new-blossoming flowers, chattering birds, fresh air on a chill breeze, and clear and cold mountain spring water around every bend-all the things that the druid loved best.He stripped off his robes and put them under a thick bush, then sat cross-legged out on a high and open perch, awaiting the rain.It came in a torrential downpour, and Newander considered its patter on the stones the sweetest of nature's many songs.The storm broke in time for a wondrous sunset, scarlet fading to pink, and filling every break in the towering mountain peaks to the west."I fear that I am late in returning," Newander said to himself.He gave a resigned shrug and could not prevent a boyish grin from spreading over his face."The library will still be there on the morrow," he rationalized as he retrieved his robes, found a comfortable spot, and settled in for the night.*****Barjin hung the brazier pot in place on the tripod and put in the special mixture of wood chips and incense blocks.He did not light the brazier at this time, though, uncertain of how long it would take him to find a proper catalyst for the chaos curse.Denizens of lower planes could be powerful allies, but they were usually a wearisome lot, demanding more of their sum-moner's time and energy than Barjin now had to give.Similarly, Barjin kept his necromancer's stone tightly wrapped in the shielding doth.As with lower-plane creatures, some types of undead could prove difficult to control, and, like the gate created by the enchanted brazier, the necromancer's stone could summon an assortment of monsters, anything from the lowliest, unthinking skeletons and zombies to cunning ghosts.Still, for all his glyphs and wards, Barjin felt insecure about leaving the altar room, and the precious bottle, with nothing more intelligent and powerful than Mullivy to stand guard.He needed an ally, and he knew where to find it."Khalif," the evil priest muttered, retrieving the ceramic flask.He had carried it for years, even before Percival days in Vaasa and before he had turned to Talona.He had found the ash um among some ancient ruins while working as an apprentice to a now dead wizard.Barjin, by the terms of his apprenticeship, was not supposed to claim any discoveries as his own, but then, Barjin had never played by any rules but his own.He had kept the ceramic um, filled with the ashes of Prince Khalif, a noble of some ancient civilization according to the accompanying parchment, private and safe through many years.Barjin hadn't fully come to appreciate the potential value of such a find until after he began his training in clerical magic.Now he understood what he could do with the ashes; all he needed was a proper receptacle.He led Mullivy out into the passageway beyond the altar room's door, a wide corridor lined with alcoves, burial vaults of the highest-ranking founders of the Edificant Library.Unlike the other vaults Barjin had seen down here, these were not open chairs, but elaborately designed caskets, sarcophagi, gem-studded and extravagant.Barjin could only hope, as he instructed Mullivy to open the closest sarcophagus, that the early scholars had spared no expenses on the contents within the casket as well, that they had used some embalming techniques.Mullivy, for all his strength, could not begin to open the first sarcophagus, its lock and hinges rusted fast.The zombie had better luck with the second, for its cover simply fell away under Mullivy's heavy tug.As soon as the door opened, a long tentacle shot out at Mullivy, followed by a second and a third.They did no real damage, but Barjin was glad that the zombie, and not he, had opened the lid.Inside was a carrion crawler, a monstrous wormlike beast with eight tentacles tipped with paralyzing poison.Undead Mullivy could not be affected by such an attack and, beyond the tentacles, the carrion crawler was virtually defenseless."Kill it!" Barjin instructed.Mullivy waded in fearlessly, pounding away with his one good arm.The carrion crawler was no more than a lifeless lump at the bottom of the casket when Mullivy at last backed away."This one will not do," Barjin mumbled, inspecting the empty husk inside the sarcophagus.There was no dismay in his voice, though, for the body, ruined by the carrion crawler, had been carefully wrapped in thick linen, a sure sign that the ancient scholars had used some embalming techniques [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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