He stared at her, jaw open in disbelief, blood welling up in his mouth, so Targrael blew him a kiss and said with a sneer, "The gods be with you, little failure of a man. Fare you well in the Hells."
By the last word, he was probably beyond hearing, his stare now fixed. Targrael straightened, pulling her sword back, and let him fall.
He fell heavily, as wet and solid as an oversized pumpkin dropped on a cobbled street-and as messily. Blood splashed long fingers in all directions. Targrael took a swift step back, eyes narrowing as she saw golden, glowing smoke rise from that gore-for all the Realms as if the man's blood were a flow of molten fire in a forge.
Then she retreated farther, casting swift glances behind herself and bringing her sword up to slash the air in a menacing circle around her.
Liches were drifting and striding toward those flames from all directions, their eyes glowing the same golden hue.
"Keep back," she warned them, paling as they gave her gap-toothed grins and closed in.
"I am the Highknight Lady Ismra Targrael. In the name of the Dragon Throne I serve, I command, you begone!"
The Highknight brandished the warding token she'd plucked from one of the Sembians she'd slain, but bony hands struck it aside as many other bony hands tightened like chillingly cold claws around her arms.
She hadn't even time to struggle ere bony fingers throttled her. Almost leisurely.
Bellowing wordless rage into the Princess Alusair's face to make her shrink back out of his way, the Royal Magician of Cormyr rushed out of his armory and along the passage, seeking the nearest spellcasting chamber.
Dalonder Ree was right behind him. "If I find Dauntless, I'll send him back to you!" he said to the princess as he raced past.
Laspeera, trailing belts and wand sheaths and a sculpted hand festooned with glowing rings, panted behind them both. Some six running strides down the passage, she slowed, whirled, and told Alusair, "Get Tathanter Doarmund or Alaphondar to assemble all Wizards of War they swiftly can to teleporr a dozen Dragons to me. They know how to key on me!"
"Purple Dragons?" Alusair cried. "Not more war wizards?"
Laspeera was already running on down the passage. Without turning her head she called back, "We'll be needing someone with common sense!"
The third panel spilled the familiar blue-green radiance as it shattered.
"There!" Pennae cried as she espied the next panel.
Doust staggered, almost falling. His stagger took him into Jhessail and almost bore her to the ground. She struggled to keep them both upright, planting herself until Islif reached out a long arm, took the priest by the shoulder, and hauled him upright.
He reeled, knees briefly as limp as greens steaming in a kitchen. "Numbed me, that one did," he muttered. Looking at Jhessail, he added, "Keep back from the panels. I think doing this'll kill any mage outright." He gave Vangerdahast's back a suspicious glare, then clung to Islif for support as all of the Knights hurried down rhe passage to the fourrh panel.
"How many of these panels will we have to break?" Islif called to the Royal Magician.
Ahead, they saw his shoulders lift in a shrug. "I know not. More than a dozen. We tried to trace the magics once, and I saw ten-and-three nodes before the trying overwhelmed me."
Pennae lifted an eyebrow. "Overwhelmed you?"
"Struck me senseless," Vangey replied curtly, giving Florin a nod.
The ranger set his teeth, swung the mace, and dashed another panel to glowing ruin.
"A glow!" Semoor called from behind them. "Through that doorway!"
They all turned to see his pointing arm, and Florin reeled just as Doust had done.
"Help him, someone!" Vangerdahast snapped, heading for the glowing door. "Pennae, run ahead. We need to see which panel in yon room is the right one, before it fades!"
As they hastened, the Royal Magician muttered some sort of incantation.
"That's the second time you've done that, right after Florin struck a panel," Islif said suspiciously. "Just what magic are you working?"
"I'm garhering the wardings before they collapse, to shield us all with them. Against the liches and against any wild magics breaking a node might release."
"What wardings?" Semoor asked, as they entered the room, finding it cold and bare.
"The ancient spells that protect the walls, floors, ceilings, and all against magic unleashed by the liches here," Vangerdahast explained, hastening over to the panel Pennae was standing beside. It was no longer glowing.
"They'll be lost if I don't gather them," the Royal Magician said. "Do you want to be torn apart by a lich?"
A lich near Semoor's elbow chuckled coldly, and he shrank back from it, shuddering. "Why are all these liches here, anyhail?"
"Bound here by the Royal Magicians before him," Doust said. "Wizards who went mad, that is. They did not come here as liches. I think this place makes them liches."
Vangerdahast turned, gave them the grimmest of smiles, and said gently, "And I think you're righr about that. And before any of you ask, no, I haven't bound anyone here."
"No need," Semoor said, stepping quickly behind Islif. "You just take all the mad mages and make them war wizards."
"Thank you, Light of Lathander," Vangerdahast replied sarcastically. "Your observations are so helpful, in our present situation. Boosts the morale of your fellow Knights to no end."
Florin started forward, but the Royal Magician flung out an arm to bar his way. Vangerdahast nodded when Islif plucked the mace from the ranger's grasp from behind.
"Enough heroics for you," Vangerdahast said and looked at Islif. "Will you break this one, Lady Knight?"
She nodded, stepping forward, and Vangerdahast looked at the other Knights. "Face outward, everyone," he said. "Pennae and… you, Wolftooth, go back to the door and watch for glows. I'll thrust out the wards to keep liches away from you."
Pennae started for the door, but Semoor didn't move. He was frowning at Doust.
"What're you staring at, Clumsum?"
"That," Doust said quietly, pointing across the room into its darkest corner. His finger was leveled at the largest floating, disembodied skull among the liches. It grinned at them, eyes twinkling. Around its brows was a slender-spired crown, still silver-hued in places but mostly black and in a few spots green with age.
"So that was a king, or prince, or something," Semoor said slowly, giving Vangerdahast a look. "Is this some dark state secret?"
The wizard shook his head, putting out his hand again to keep Islif from striking the panel.
But Doust spoke again.."No, not the crown. Look above the spires."
The Knights peered. It was hard to see the crown's spires and the space above them clearly in the gloom, but from the doot Pennae said, "The end spire doesn't have a gem on top. The gemstone is floating in the air above the spire. So, Doust?"
"It wasn't there at all-the gem, that is-before we entered this room," Doust said. "I happened to look right at that skull with the crown."
"You're sure you haven't mistaken it for another?" Florin asked. "None of the other floating skulls are wearing crowns. Not even a circlet."
"I am haunted, truly haunted…," Semoor started to sing a well-known tavern song.
Islif gave his stomach a solid poke with the mace, and he stopped with a startled gasp.
"So we watch it to see if anything else happens," she said firmly. "Nothing else we can do, aye?"
"To the door, Wolftooth," Vangerdahast reminded Semoor. "Sulwood, why don't you keep a close eye on yon skull, now and henceforth?"
"I'll do that," Doust said, as Islif stepped forward ro menace the panel with the mace again. This time the Royal Magician stepped back and nodded to her.
She swung, connecting with a crash, and the panel split apart in blue-green fire-and that glow spat out bright arcs of lightning, hurling Islif away and making all the Knights scream as the wardings flared up bright blue-green around them.