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.Canthus was caught in the bushes as well, but the moorhound squirmed his way upward as Robyn reached down for the king.Newt continued to buzz overhead until a whiff of gas swirled around him.The dragon turned instantly from green to orange, sneezing loudly.With a sudden bolt, he darted to the side of the pit and landed, coughing and gasping.Tristan's face was blue.Though the gas had thinned out somewhat, Robyn suspected that he had breathed it heavily.Had it already killed him? She banished the thought, somewhere finding the energy to heave upward on his limp body.It wouldn't budge."I've got you, honey.Let's pull!" She heard Tavish's voice as she felt the bard grab her waist, but even pulling together, the two could not free the king.Horrified, Robyn watched Tristan's lips grow black."Glorus, desitor ehahyl" cried the druid, once again summoning a spell.She felt herself grow dizzy, but she forced herself to retain her grip on the king.All around her, she could feel the plant growth recoiling, twisting free and pulling away from her.And from Tristan.The king fell free from the plants, with Robyn barely managing to keep a grip on his arms.Then Tavish heaved mightily and they pulled Tristan's limp form onto the lip of the fissure.Weakly she pressed her mouth to his, forcing air from her lungs into the king's.She pressed downward against his chest to force out the bad air, then blew inward again.Over and over she repeated the process, with Tavish taking over when the druid collapsed from exhaustion.Desperately she watched the king's face, begging for a sign of life, but his color remained that awful blue."It – it's the p-poison!" stammered Yazilliclick, slumping mournfully beside the druid."He gets the air – the air, but the poison takes his l-life."Robyn sat up weakly.Of course… the poison of the gas! Why hadn't she realized that? She leaned over the limp form and pushed Tavish aside."Banlie, venali!" she gasped frantically, pressing her hands firmly to his lips.Once more she felt the magic flow from her body as she called upon a potent spell of druidic healing.It would work only to relieve the effects of venom.Devoutly she prayed that the poison was the real menace to Tristan's life.And then the dizziness rose within her again, as once more the power of her spell was drawn directly from her soul.The void between herself and her goddess remained vast, so she could only draw upon her own, suddenly depleted, reserves of magic.Her vision blurred, but she saw Tristan's eyes flicker open and heard his lungs gasp great, sweet breaths of air before she lost consciousness and slumped motionless across him.Tavish lifted the druid gently and laid her beside the king, checking to see that her heart still beat and her breathing remained regular.Pawldo had galloped to the fissure and dismounted.Now he knelt beside Tristan, taking the king's large hand in both of his own.Tristan coughed and gagged, drawing deep and raspy breaths.The halfling's eyes, however, never ceased darting about the woods as he watched for an attack from that quarter at any moment.But the scene remained, for the moment, quiet.A great oval had been ripped in the earth beside them.The bottom lurked in the invisible depths, where seethed a riotous mixture of yellow, green, and orange gases.A powerful odor, sulphurous in nature, with a stinging bite of even more sinister and unnatural substances, rose from the pit and filled the air around them.Tristan sat up, still groggy, and his eyes widened with alarm at the sight of Robyn's motionless body."She'll be all right," said the bard softly."She used her magic to save you.It seemed to take a lot out of her.""I'm getting lightheaded," said Pawldo suddenly."Let's get away from this hole.""Good idea," said Tavish, lifting Robyn easily in her broad arms.Tristan climbed awkwardly to his feet, while Newt and Yazilliclick darted into the air, ready to look for a suitable resting place.Pawldo, aided by Canthus, gathered the mounts that had drifted away from the noxious site."The cloud drifted toward the fen in the lowlands," observed the bard."Let's make our way upslope."By the time they reached the crest of a low hill beside the trail, Robyn had regained enough strength to walk slowly, aided by Tavish.They collapsed on the first level patch of ground they could find, and Robyn looked at them all with a tentative, fearful gaze."What is it?" asked Tristan, reaching for the druid's hand.She let him take it, but she looked past him as she replied."They're gone, she whispered, frightened."The spells I cast… they come to me through prayer [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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