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.The dark-haired princess shrieked in rage, her face distorted beyond humanity.Like a deranged banshee, she raised her hands, spitting the initial commands to a destructive spell.Before the incantation was complete, the tip of a steel blade erupted from Deirdre's chest in a fountain of blood.The princess looked down, gaping without comprehension, before slumping face forward to the ground.Her sister, High Princess Alicia, stood behind her, blood still trickling down her blade while she stared at Deirdre's body in uncomprehending shock.* * * * *Exalted Inquisitor Parell Hyath stood upon the brink of pitching chaos, his hands held over his stomach in a posture of reflection and contemplation.This goddess, this Earthmother, was a deity of power beyond his calculations.Clearly it was time to summon his chariot, to return to societies more fertile to the dogma of Helm.But before he could cast that spell, another man stepped from behind a tree.Hyath recognized Keane."It was you," said the wizard, his voice level."I know that now.Once before I saw a spell cast in that pose, hands clasped over a fat belly.It was you!""What are you talking about?" demanded the priest"It's the earthquake that made me remember," Keane explained, slowly approaching the cleric.Hyath took a step backward, frightened by some vague menace in the magic-user's demeanor."I saw you during another one, another earthquake, but not so great as this.""Explain yourself!" shouted Parell Hyath."In Baldur's Gate," the wizard continued, his voice still low and calm."You cast the spell that consumed Bakar Dalsoritan.You killed him!"The inquisitor's face went pale."You're mad!" he shrieked, his voice cracking with terror, a terror that revealed beyond doubt to Keane that his memory was correctThe cleric suddenly pulled a hand from beneath his cloak, raising three fingers toward the magic-user in a desperate attempt to cast a spell, any spell that might divert the Ffolkman's righteous wrath.But the wizard was ready, and his own finger pointed, his own voice barked a word before the cleric could strike.Destructive magic whirled forth, commanded and controlled by the wizard's grim enchantment.The force ripped into the cleric's body, working in the space of a deadly instant, tearing flesh and bone and blood into insignificant fragments, scattering those pieces toward the four winds.When the violent spell expired, there was nothing left to show where the cleric had stood.This was the power—and the grim, ultimate finality—of the disintegration spell.* * * * *"You had no choice," Tristan said, numb with shock as he held his daughter in his arms."What happened to her?" demanded Alicia, her voice almost a wail."Why did she do it?""It wasn't Deirdre," Robyn said softly, her own voice numb with grief and shock."It was all the enemies of the goddess.all those jealous deities who wouldn't let her survive in peace.They were the ones who killed Deirdre, and the only thing we could do was try to stop the monster she'd become.""But why?" Alicia persisted, shaking her head in disbelief."That's not a question we can answer—but at least it's over now," Robyn said.Slowly the others came limping back.Hanrald, his face blanched with his own grief, bore a slight form in his arms.Ranthal dragged a twisted leg, while even Newt settled, unspeaking, onto Tristan's shoulder.The earl brushed Brigit's golden hair, now streaked with blood, back from her face, and when he laid the sister knight gently on the ground, it almost looked as though she slept.Even the gruff Finellen couldn't hold back her tears at the sight of her old rival's lifeless body.Brandon, too, came up to the king.The northman's battle-axe was stained with green trollish blood."Where's Alicia?" he asked Tristan, and the king looked around in surprise."I don't know—she was just here.""There she is," Brandon said, his voice falling.Following the northman's gaze, Tristan saw his daughter run into Keane's arms as the wizard slowly approached them [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]