Dark Sun: Prism Pentad 5 - The Cerulean Storm (8 page)

“I've got nothing!” the mul roared. “It's got me.”

In spite of his shock, Rikus managed to steady his hand. A huge scorpion had damped its
pincers onto his middle finger, cutting him dear to the bone. The barb of the tail was
buried deep into the back of his hand, with a great cone of red flesh already swelling up
around the puncture.

“That scorpion's huge!” Caelum observed. “It couldn't have been in the hole when the
buttress was there.”

“Who cares?” Rikus growled. “Just get it off!” The mul pushed his hand toward the road,
but could not quite reach because he had to cross his arm in front of his body.

Neeva laid down on her belly and stretched out to cut the pincers. The scorpion pulled its
tail from Rikus's hand and struck at her. It moved with such blinding speed that she
barely managed to twist her blade flat and deflect the venom-dripping barb. She changed
targets and sliced at the thing's body, but the creature was every bit as quick as she
was. Its tail lashed again, this time arcing at her wrist.

Neeva pulled back to avoid being stung. “I've seen lightning strike slower!”

“I could've told you that!” Rikus growled.

Pulling his hand back toward his body, the mul lowered his head and opened his mouth.
There was a crunch of splintering carapace, then Rikus turned toward her and spit the
scorpion's severed tail from between his sharp teeth. The mul extended his arm toward her.
Already, his hand was so swollen that it looked more like a bear's paw.

“Get the damn thing off-now!”

As Neeva reached for the scorpion, its carapace suddenly changed from pearly gray to
yellow. The color did not fade so much as it slipped off the arachnid's body like a
passing shadow. For an instant, the formless apparition hovered in the air, then it
floated down to the hole into which Rikus had been sticking his hand when he was stung.

The scorpion itself turned gold and began to shrink, until it was so small that its
pincers would no longer fit around the mul's thick fingers. It fell free and tumbled away,
its tiny body vanishing from sight long before it hit the ground. “By the sun!” cursed
Caelum. Neeva tossed her dagger on to the road, then grabbed Rikus's arm with both hands.
She felt her husband's powerful arms slip around her waist, then the dwarf pulled both her
and the mul back onto the road. Caelum kneeled in the dust and grabbed Rikus's wrist with
both hands, his stubby fingers pressing down on the veins to shut off the blood flow.
Neeva did not need to ask why the sun-cleric was so concerned. Of all the poisonous beasts
in the Athasian desert, gold scorpions were among the worst, with venom powerful enough to
drop an adult mekillot in five steps. Of course, such creatures did not normally change
sizes or disguise their color beneath silver shadows, but Neeva was too concerned with
Rikus's welfare to dwell on the matter right now. “Hold his wrist, tight!” Caelum ordered.
Neeva did as commanded, and her husband raised his own hand to the sky. “The sun's heat
will boil the poison away.”

Rikus grimaced. “This is going to hurt, isn't it?” The mul's eyes were glassy and his
words slurred.

Caelum lowered his hand, fiery red and smoking from the fingertips. It glowed so brightly
that it was translucent, save for the dark bones beneath the skin. The dwarf laid his palm
over the scorpion puncture and squeezed Rikus's hand as hard as he could. There was a soft
sizzle, and streamers of greasy black smoke rose between his fingers.

Rkard slipped over to watch, placing his back to the cliffs. His face paled at the sight
of Rikus's scorched skin, but he did not look away. Neeva considered sending him
elsewhere, but decided against it. Her son was as much a sun-cleric as he was a warrior.
If she attempted to shield him from the unpleasant sight of a wound, he would never learn
his father's art.

When an involuntary hiss slipped through Rikus's clenched teeth, Rkard stepped closer and
laid his hand on the warrior's shoulder. “Don't worry.” he said. “The sun demands pain in
exchange for its magic.”

“I know.” The mul winced, then added, “Your father's done this to me before.”

Caelum continued to hold his hands over the wound for many moments, until Neeva could no
longer see the bones outlined beneath his flesh and the fiery glow had completely faded.
By then, Rikus was only half-conscious and hardly seemed to realize where he was.

“What happened?” asked Sadira's voice.

Neeva looked up to see the sorceress coming toward the small group, trailing black wisps
of the shadow spell that she had used to answer Magnus's summons.

“A gold scorpion stung him,” Neeva explained.

The sorceress kneeled at her husband's side and took his injured hand between hers.
Although the swelling had gone down, the flesh remained black and scaly.

“Is he going to die?” Sadira asked.

“No. Father won't allow it!” said Rkard, his hairless brow furrowed in determination.

“That's right,” said Caelum. “He'll be a little sick for a few hours, but he'll live.”

The sorceress's blue eyes seemed to glow a little brighter. “Thank you.”

Sadira rose, cradling her husband's limp form in her arms. Although the mul probably
weighed half-again as much as a normal man, the sorceress showed no sign of strain at
lifting his heavy body.

She passed Rikus to Magnus. “If you'll bear Rikus for a while, I'll get us across this
gap.”

The sorceress took the rope from around Rikus's waist and lay down at the end of the road.
She leaned over the

(brink and tied one end to the last buttress, then returned to her feet and tossed the
coil toward the merchant standing on the other side of the gap.

At first, Neeva thought the rope would fall short of its target, but Sadira uttered a
quiet incantation that sent the line drifting straight into the merchant's hands. “If
you'll tie that off, I'll bring you and your wagon across,” she called.

For a moment, the man seemed too astonished to reply. Then he dropped down and fastened
the line to a buttress beneath the road. Sadira smiled and yelled for him to stand back,
then took the rope in her hand and spoke the words to another spell. A sheet of crimson
light spread outward from both sides of the cord. Within moments, a red, flickering ribbon
of luminescence spanned the gap, connecting the two severed ends of the Cloud Road.

“Come on ahead,” Sadira called. She continued to kneel, holding one hand on the rope. “My
spell is more than strong enough to hold both you and your beasts.”

The merchant stared at the scintillating patch and did not move.

“I'll go across and show him it's safe,” Caelum volunteered.

“No, I'll go,” said Neeva. She checked her harness to make sure both of her steel short
swords were readily accessible. “With buttresses slipping from their joining holes and
gold scorpions disguising themselves as something else, there's something strange here.
The merchant might be part of it.”

The warrior stepped onto the bridge and started across. With each footfall, the road
swayed slightly under her weight. Through the soles of her sandals, she felt a strange,
pulsing heat rising off its shimmering surface, and she understood the merchant's
reluctance to lead his inixes onto the unstable road. Even if it would support the weight
of his huge wagon, coaxing the skittish draft lizards over a hot, vibrating surface would
not be easy.

After Neeva had taken a dozen paces, the merchant stepped onto his end of the shimmering
bridge. The inixes kept their gazes focused straight ahead and pulled the heavy wagon with
no sign of spooking. As each set of wheels settled onto the road, the pathway swayed and
undulated beneath Neeva's feet, making her feel as though she were standing on water. She
continued forward, thinking it wiser to meet the stranger in the middle of the link.

The man kept his eyes on the road, hiding his face beneath the broad brim of his hat. He
wore a striped robe of many bright colors, though its vibrance was dulled by a gray
coating of road dust. His gloves were worn and black, as were his belt and boots. The
inixes behind him had silver-gray hides, which served to reinforce Neeva's fear that this
was a trap. Usually, the beasts were covered with a mottled assortment of scales ranging
from rusty red to murky brown, hues that camouflaged the beasts in the rocky wastelands of
Athas.

Neeva stopped at the halfway point. “Hail, trader,” she called. “Have you waited long?”

The man did not look up.

“Before you come farther, I'll know the name of the man who wishes to pass over this
bridge.” She rested her hands on the pommels of her twin swords.

The merchant continued forward, his hat shielding his eyes. Neeva drew her swords and
stood ready to defend herself.

“Speak,” she ordered.

The man was now so close that she could see that his
'
clothes were not covered with road dust, as she had j thought earlier. They seemed
immersed in a pale shadow, j as if he were lurking in some back alley in the Elven Market.
The same was true of the inixes, for Neeva could now see dim blotches of much-faded color
on! their hides.

“Stop and show yourself!” she demanded.

The merchant raised his arms to about chest height. Though he carried no weapon, Neeva
took the gesture as a hostile one. She waited for the man to close within two steps, then
raised both her short swords. The merchant threw his arms up to ward off the expected
blows. She slipped one blade over his guard and slapped the hat away, baring his head.

The warrior gasped at what she saw. The man was a corpse, with a swollen tongue protruding
from between his cracked lips and the hollow expression of death in his eyes. A gray pall
covered his flesh, not in the fashion of his inherent color, but like a silken shroud
dinging to his lifeless features.

“It's a wraith!” Neeva yelled.

Having fought similar creatures during the war with Urik, the warrior knew instantly that
she was in trouble. Wraiths had no bodies of their own. Instead, they took control of
other beings, such as the corpse before her or the gold scorpion that had stung Rikus. She
had even seen them animate marble statues.

The wraith launched itself at her, the corpse's arms outstretched and its filthy fingers
slashing at her eyes. Neeva swung her second sword, twisting her whole body to increase
the force of the blow. Her blade sank deep into the neck. There was a pop as the head came
free, but the corpse's momentum carried it forward. She caught the brunt of its charge on
her shoulder, then dove away and rolled.

Neeva came up facing her companions. Sadira continued to kneel at the edge of the road,
holding onto the rope to keep her spell activated. Caelum was just charging past the
sorceress with a raised mace, while Rkard followed a few steps behind with Rikus's sword
clutched in both hands.

“Rkard, no!” she yelled.

Caelum's crimson eyes went wide, and he spun around instantly, almost impaling himself on
the Scourge as his son crashed into him. He swept Rkard off the ground and started back up
the road.

A shiver rolled down Neeva's spine as a pair of cold hands touched her neck. She raised a
hand above her head and spun. As she came around, she brought her arm down and trapped her
assailant's wrists between her elbow and body.

Neeva found herself staring into a pair of sapphire eyes, set into a face of ghostly gray
shadow that sat upon the stump of the corpse's severed neck. The wavering visage was that
of a sneering man with a sharp chin, an arrowlike nose, and hollow cheeks.

The boy!
it commanded. Although the wraith's lips moved when it spoke, no sound came from them and
Neeva heard the words inside her head.
Borys commands it!

Neeva's mouth went dry as she realized that not only did her attacker resemble the
creatures she had encountered during the war with Urik, it was one of them. Before their
deaths a thousand years ago, the wraiths had served as knights in Borys's campaign to
eradicate the dwarven race. They had even fought at his side when he had used the Scourge
to mortally wound the last king of the dwarves, Rkard. Now, having returned to their
master's service, they had come to destroy Rkard's namesake and heir, her young son.

“This time, Rkard shall not fall!” Neeva yelled.

Still holding the corpse's forearms trapped beneath her elbow, the warrior plunged the
sword in her free hand into its stomach. The weapon sank deep and true, the tip driving up
into the heart. Blood, cold and dark with death, oozed from the wound.

The dead thing simply raised its arms and clasped its hands around Neeva's throat. The
cold fingers sank deep into her flesh. Her temples began to pound, and she felt dizzy. Her
vision narrowed to a tunnel, a hissing roar filled her ears, and her knees grew weak.

Leaving her second sword buried in her attacker, Neeva snaked her hand over one of his
arms and under the other. She clasped her hands together around the pommel of her other
weapon and pivoted. The motion sent the dead merchant swinging toward the side of the
road, and the warrior used all her strength to pry the thing's arms from her throat.

The corpse's grip broke, and it soared away, tumbling over the edge of the road toward the
red sands below. After the body hit, a gray shadow drifted away and began a slow rise back
toward the road. The warrior watched the wraith long enough to be sure the thing would
take many moments to reach her again, then turned her attention to a more immediate
danger: the inixes.

The gray-mantled beasts were only a dozen steps away, scrambling forward as fast as they
could pull the heavy wagon. Their eyes sparkled with gemlike light, one's red and the
other's yellow, leaving little doubt in the warrior's mind that the beasts were also
controlled by wraiths.

Neeva turned and ran. Had the things been normal inixes, it would have been a simple
matter for her to find a vulnerable spot and kill them both, even with her small sword.
But, animated as they were by wraiths, the only way to stop them was by cutting their huge
bodies to shreds or pushing them off the bridge, and she would need help to do either.