“Who was that?” asked Sadira.
Magnus shrugged. “Even the Sun Runners have not run afoul of every official in Raam,” he said. “It could be a high templar-or even the sorcerer-queen herself.”
Caelum pushed his son toward the Bronze Company. “Take the kanks and hide yourself behind the formation,” he ordered. “And remember what your mother said about heroics.”
Rkard took Sadira’s switch and tapped the antennae of the two cargo kanks. They clacked their mandibles in frustration but slowly turned to follow the boy toward the Bronze Company.
“Hiding won’t save you, child.” The words rolled across the salt flat as clear and distinct as the lyrics to one of Magnus’s ballads, though the voice was aloof and cold in a way that the windsinger’s could never be.
Rkard started to turn around, but Caelum yelled, “Don’t listen to her, Son. Go on!”
As the young mul slipped behind the ranks of the Bronze Company, Sadira searched the oasis hill for the speaker. At the same time, she raised her hand to her mouth and caught a wisp of her shadowy breath, then faced the yalmus of the Bronze Company.
“I know you and your warriors prefer sunlight,” she called. “But stay beneath this shield. It’ll protect you from Raamin magic.”
With that, she uttered her incantation and blew the black shadow toward the reserves. The wisp floated over to the Bronze Company, stretching into a long, dark cord as it moved. It dropped to the ground in front of the yalmus and snaked its way around the formation. When it had formed a complete square enclosing Rkard and the dwarves, a gray pall crept over the entire company.
The dwarven warriors cast nervous glances into the white sky, muttering and fidgeting. Several even stepped out of line-until their yalmus chased them back into place with a sharp command.
Again, a cruel laugh rolled across the salt flat. A chorus of Raamin voices cried out in fear, then a small section of the enemy line grasped their chests and dropped to the ground. Sadira studied the slope behind the fallen warriors carefully, looking for the cause of the men’s sudden deaths. She found only half a dozen saedra trees and several clumps of silverfan. There was not even a blue-turbaned templar standing in the vicinity.
“Did you kill those Raamins?” Magnus asked. Sadira shook her head.
“Then what-”
Before Caelum could ask his question, a seething orb of white radiance shot out from the gap in the Raamin lines. It skimmed over the legion’s flank, vaporizing four Tyrian warriors as it passed. Sadira and Magnus barely managed to duck before it blazed over their own heads, a stench like burning tar riding its wake. The ball crashed into the front rank of the Bronze Company and exploded in a blinding flash. The dwarves shouted in anger and alarm, but no one cried out in pain.
The yalmus ordered his warriors to form their ranks. As the spots cleared from her vision, Sadira saw that her gray pall remained intact and had protected the dwarven ranks from injury. Still, the Bronze Company had fallen into disarray. Most of the dwarves had dropped their axes and were blindly trying to find their weapons again, while many others were simply rubbing their eyes and shaking their heads. Rkard stood in the center of the jumble, his eyes pinched shut and his hands clutching the sword shard Rikus had given him.
“By the wind!” Magnus gasped. “That leaves no doubt that Abalach-Re is with them.”
“She is,” Sadira said. “Only a sorcerer-king-or -queen, in this case-could and would call upon the life force of her own soldiers to cast a spell.”
The sorceress turned around to study the area near the collapsed Raamins. She saw no one standing nearby. The sorcerer-queen was using magic to hide herself.
Sadira reached into her pocket and withdrew a bead of amber, crushing the golden gem between her ebony fingers. She tossed the powder toward the oasis and uttered her incantation. A huge billow of flaxen mist formed above the gap Abalach had created in her own lines. A thunderclap crashed over the hillside, and the cloud split, unleashing a deluge of yellow beads as large as melons.
As each globe landed, it exploded in a golden spray that coated anything it contacted. The Raamins cursed and yelled, trying to scrape the sticky syrup from their bodies. The stuff hardened almost immediately. Soon hundreds of saffron pillars covered the hillside, each encasing the astonished form of a suffocating warrior. None of the dark shapes trapped inside the diaphanous columns appeared to be a sorcerer-queen.
A great cheer rose from the Tyrian warriors, for Sadira’s spell had done more than a little to offset the advantage of the Raamins’ defensive position.
“Double-time advance!” called Neeva.
The dwarves broke into a steady run, their formations as tight as ever. The Tyrians began to trot, though their ranks loosened as they picked up speed.
Near the top of the oasis, a huge circle of saedras turned brown and dropped their needles. Before the needles hit the ground, the red bark darkened to black, and the barren boughs began to droop. The roots released their hold on the hillside. Tree after tree crashed to the ground, smashing Raamin warriors and raising a large cloud of dust.
The sorceress did not see anyone nearby who could have caused the destruction, though she knew it had to be the result of a defiler drawing the energy for a spell. Since she could not see any other sorcerer in the vicinity, Sadira thought it was most likely Abalach-Re herself who had destroyed the trees. Sorcerer-queens could summon spell energy from plants, as well as from men and animals.
Sadira reached into her robe, whispering, “Whoever you are, this will be the last time you defile an oasis.”
Abalach surprised the sorceress by answering. “I spoiled a thousand oases before you were ever born, girl.” Her voice was a mere whisper in Sadira’s ears. “And I’ll spoil another thousand after you die.”
At the top of the hill, a pair of blue streaks flared under the dirt. They shot down the slope, glimmers of azure light flashing up every time they passed beneath a stone. Like a pair of sapphire arrows, the bolts sped out beneath the salt flat, each racing straight toward one of the dwarven companies. When they reached the warriors leading the two wedges, a tremendous crackle echoed over the plain. The dwarves went rigid. Their helmets and breastplates erupted into showers of sparks. Dancing cords of energy leaped from their torsos to the men behind them. These warriors also stiffened, and their armor exploded into blue embers. In an instant, the crackling waves of energy fanned out over both companies of dwarves.
At the back of the Iron Company, Neeva screeched and flung the steel battle-axe from her hands. The rest of the Kledans, trapped inside their metal breastplates, were not so lucky. They remained completely rigid and motionless, blue energy cords dancing over their armor and weapons. Soon, their flesh blackened and began to smoke. One after the other, the dwarves burst into flame and disintegrated into piles of ash. An instant later, all that remained of the Kledan companies were two piles of soot-stained armor and Neeva, standing alone and dazed on the salt flat.
Caelum started to call the Bronze Company forward, but Sadira stopped him. “Leave the reserves here, or Abalach will use the same spell against them,” she said. “You and Magnus reinforce the Tyrian flanks with your magic. I’ll fight from here-and guard Rkard.”
The dwarf nodded, then he and the windsinger rushed forward. Sadira considered casting a spell to protect the Tyrian troops from Abalach but quickly decided against it. If she spent her energies shielding while the sorcerer-queen attacked, Rikus’s assault would stall against the superior force waiting on the hill. To win the battle now, she had to reduce the number of Raamins facing her husband, while also putting Abalach on the defensive or killing her outright.