Its weight rode there, solid and reassuring. Again he rose, wandering in apparent aimlessness, having regained the magic item he'd hidden earlier. Netnerese, the work of the Shadow Master TelamontTanthul, able to unleash a multiple clone spell to "grow" bodies simultaneously from one body part or relic-and so whelm armies.
Elminster put those thoughts firmly away again before a cloak of silver fire and let Nergal gloat at the length and vivid depths of the memory trail he'd been following through Elminster's mind.
Ah, little human, but we must be close to something worthwhile at last. I can feel it, as if your precious silver fire is surging in your! yes! Onward-Show me more!
***
"Dread Lord Geryon," the youngest and most ambitious of his pit fiends murmured, pointing at a shimmer on a distant, rock-studded hillside, "there."
The Overduke smiled, though the dark helm he wore showed the company of devils only the tiniest curve of his lips. "Thank you,Albitur.The first assault is yours."A massive barbed tail twitched.
Some of the gathered pit fiends drew back half a stealthy pace. Geryon was excited or angry-and for those desiring to survive, it didn't really matter which.
At least the orders the Lord of Nessus had given them hadn't meant a wait of years... or an eternity. Great Asmodeus had said this Halaster would return soon, armed with power enough from his goddess to be a threat to Hell. As always, but more so this time than most, the Lord Asmodeus had been right.
Albitur took wing like a dark storm, gathering the cornugons and pit fiends of his command as he went. Across a deep cavern of poisonous smoke they flew, to sweep over a ridge where rock pinnacles stood like fangs. They glided down in a deadly dive at the lone human figure, silent but for the wind whistling through their wings.
Forty devils and more against one, but no one standing with Geryon laughed or made wagers. How many, in the measure of fiends, is the aid of a goddess?
The human saw death coming. He lifted his hands to trace gestures in the air.
Devils swept down, and bolts of lightning stabbed forth from them. On the rocks around the lone wizard, flames roared. Devils conjured walls of fire.
The air above the pit fiends was suddenly full of head-sized, plummeting rocks. The rain of stone battered the devils to crash brokenly below. A stone crushed the skull of a hapless cornugon, leaving nothing but a smudge of blood atop its neck.
Halaster swayed in the heart of the devil-hurled lightning. The spasms seemed to invigorate rather than harm him.
Devils swept down with barbed whips snapping and flailing. They flew into a cloud of little silver hands that snatched and gouged and choked and punched, searing diabolic flesh.
Blinded pit fiends fell screaming to the stones. They rolled and thrashed in agony, arousing maggots to swarm over the rocks.
' Fires leaped up all around the wizard. One eruption tumbled Halaster onto his face. Through the flames swept rippling-muscled pit fiends and cornugons, plying their whips so vigorously that more than once they entangled each other and were forced to break from the tightening fray. Punching and raking and kicking, they swarmed the wizard. Red and black flesh hiding him from view.
"They must be almost done tearing him apart "muttered a pit fiend beside Lord Geryon.
Even before the Wild Beast's hairy hand swept up in a rebuking gesture, there was a flash of blinding silver light from the struggling knot below. Those few devils who weren't hurled shrieking across the sky toppled on their backs, ashen husks silent forever.
"Qarlegon," the Overduke said calmly.
The named pit fiend bounded into the sky like a hound off its leash. His cornugons sprung up from the rocks around to follow.
More than sixty strong was this second force. It swept down on Halaster from all sides, in a slowly settling net. Its commander hovered, gesturing this way and that.
Halaster looked up at the fiends approaching so carefully-and unleashed chain lightning among them. It fizzled and died, failing before the magic-quelling nature of the fiends.
Qarlegon's hand swept down, and in unison the fiends dropped.
The human wizard frantically worked spells as the devils descended, but Geryon and all the pit fiends winced long before Halaster could have unleashed anything. The very air around them trembled momentarily. Their horns and ears and fingertips tingled.
"What was that?" a devil exclaimed, shuddering his way back onto his rocky perch.
"Truly mighty magic," an old, scarred pit fiend said unnecessarily. "Belike the hand of Lord Asmodeus himself."
Some of the more junior devils bowed their heads and made warding signs at the utterance of that name. Most stared narrowly down at the human wizard and frowned.
"Not from him," one of them muttered, and others nodded.
The pounce this time was a single, united thrust of flailing and jabbing. Then all drew back to leave Halaster bloodied and staggering. They converged again, so he could not help but be overwhelmed.
When the devils drew back again, the human swayed, one arm dangling torn and useless from its shoulder.There were chuckles at his sudden barks and capering.
The third charge provoked a burst of silver fire. It was more feeble this time. Only half a dozen devils fell headless and dead. Twice that number were hurled away or fled shrieking. The fourth charge closed over Halaster, and he did not rise again.
The fiends standing with Geryon were just beginning to relax when a sudden flood of blue-white lightning washed over the melee. Devils erupted in struggling agony. They took wing in a flurry of agonized flaps, roars, and groans- only to be transfixed by bolt after bolt of leaping lightning. In seconds, two dozen devils fell.
"Who-?"a pit fiend gasped.
"Find out "Geryon snapped. "Perstur, Agamur!"
Obediently, those pit fiends surged into the sky. They flew with swift swoops rather than a straight run toward this new, half-seen foe. A lightning cloud hid whomever it was from view. The cloud reached forth crackling fingers to lift the arching, howling, broken body of the human mage tenderly into the air. White light blossomed around Halaster Blackcloak, flaring to a brilliance that made all of them turn their heads away. When it faded, the floating wizard was gone.
"Could it be that goddess again?" one of the pit fiends y rumbled disbelievingly.
The lightning cloud retreated a little, and Qarlegon's force advanced warily to encircle it. Whoever or whatever this newcomer was, it was now cloaked in an upright oval of blue fire. It didn't seem to want to be encircled.
"That's a shape I've seen Mystra of Toril use," the old, scarred pit fiend growled.
Thrice the nimbus winked or leaped backward, out of the forming ring of devils. Thrice they inexorably moved to encircle it again, backing it up the hillside to where pinnacles swept up like blades into the blood-red sky and a little gorge ran up to a cave mouth.
"That's the lair that used to be Barbathra's, yes?" a pit fiend asked.
The old, scarred fiend and Geryon nodded in unison. It was the Wild Beast who added, "Yarsabras uses it now."
As if the Overduke's words had been a cue, the hound-headed outcast devil he'd named burst from the cave with his many claws extended. His talons formed a wall of glittering blades.
The mysterious intruder ducked suddenly, with a smooth grace that reminded the watching fiends of elven dancers.
Yarsabras sailed on helplessly into the line of advancing devils, to crash and flail and be flailed. At the best of times, loyal hornheads had little love for outcasts-and this was assuredly not the best of times.
The fire-shrouded intruder bobbed upright again to send lightning crackling and spitting among the advancing devils.