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"Bring her back!" Jathelle shrilled.
Tyrus leaned against the buffeting gale and drew conjury up from his inner
being. Time was hurrying too swiftly. And he felt Vraduir's sorcery mixed with
a far more deadly power, one past any countering magic to prevent. The Death
God's minions! As Vraduir had once bargained and stolen, seizing the lesser
demons and imps from Bogotana, now he must have won the Death God's favor. The
skeletons were not illusions nor a sorkra's creations. Tyrus probed their
surfaces and shrank in momentary terror at the icy contact. They went on
Vraduir's mission, but the skeletons belonged to Nidil Who Steals All Breath.
Could Tyrus find any enchantment that could defeat them?
Erejzan was veering to Tyrus' right, lunging directly into the path of the
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oncoming skeleton chieftain. No ordinary human could have moved so quickly.
But thanks to the curse Vraduir had laid upon Erejzan, he had special arts and
skills. Erejzan scrambled up until he was balanced atop his saddle while the
horse rushed along maddeningly, its course about to cross below that of the
ascending skeleton warrior.
The skeleton horse and rider were a length above him when Erejzan made an
incredible leap, calling on all his acrobat's strength. He found purchase
about the dead horse's neck and clung to it and the tattered caparison.
Tyrus abandoned attempts to break through the spell Vraduir had thrown around
Nidil's skeleton warriors. He bent all his efforts to help
Erejzan. The shape-changer's daring attack could be nothing Vraduir had
protected against. Maybe there would be a chink in the evil sorcerer's wall of
magic!
Erejzan had broken through! He hung on frantically, the caparison tearing as
he transferred his hold to the ancient saddle. Jathelle was running along
beneath him, yelling encouragement, thrusting at the horse's remaining hindleg
with her pike.
Tyrus, too, was running, hurling spells to guard Erejzan, hoping they could
penetrate the charm woven about the skeleton warrior and Dissa.
"Help me!" Ilissa screamed, her arms stretched down to Erejzan and
Jathelle. The acrobat was sorely bedeviled by the skeleton rider, for that
traitor from the past was swatting at Erejzan, trying to slay him with a
bloodstained sword. Barely maintaining his grip, Erejzan dodged and swung
wildly in mid-air, still attempting to reach Ilissa.
"A bit more, LaSirin," Tyrus heard Erejzan roaring. "I will save you! A
bit more& "
Ilissa's beautiful hair was a flag against the black sky, her silvery habit
streaked with ice. The evil cloud and the riders were a stark contrast to her
pale loveliness and innocence.
Time ended, and Erejzan lost.
The skeleton chieftain crashed an age-encrusted boot into the acrobat's belly
precisely at the moment leather trappings and cloth ripped asunder.
Erejzan had touched Ilissa's hands in his final desperate effort. But she
could not bear his weight for even the slightest instant. With a wail of grief
and defeat, Erejzan dropped, tumbling toward the Meadows, now two lengths
down. He was turning reflexively and curving his lithe body to absorb the
inevitable impact.
"You cannot have her!" Jathelle exclaimed, tears streaming down her cheeks.
The cloud enclosed Hissa and the riders. Ilissa twisted helplessly in the
skeleton warrior's arms, looking back at her sister and Erejzan and Tyrus.
"Help me!
Help me&
!"
It was the terrified plea of a child, cutting into their hearts.
Jathelle raised her pike again, intending to risk hurling it, if nothing else
would serve. The skeleton chieftain looked down and pointed at
LaRenya. Tyrus sensed a crackling pressure, new and malevolent sorcery
building. He seemed to see Vraduir in the clouds with the Death God's warriors
and felt Vraduir's murderous anger as he had when they beheld him in the
vision-glass. Anger aimed at Jathelle!
The skeleton warriors were Nidil's property, but Vraduir was going to use them
to strike his foes. Vraduir had promised that if Jathelle got in his way, he
would slay her!
Tyrus sucked in air so violently his lungs were afire with pain. And from his
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