Shanhaevel, upon seeing the punishing blow the high priest had put upon the druid, swore furiously. He stepped forward, ready to fling a spell at Hedrack that would hurl the man back and slam him against the wall. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the others react similarly. All of them were ready to pummel the man standing at the far end into oblivion.
Before any of them could close on the high priest, there was a swirl of wind in the vast chamber, and suddenly, four loathesome creatures swam into view, summoned from some nether plane. Shanhaevel and the others drew up short.
Hedrack grinned, turned back to the throne, and sat upon it. As the planar creatures stepped forward to attack, Hedrack held the skull aloft, and the throne slowly sank into the floor.
27
Shanhaevel stood frozen in place for a moment as the horrible realization of what was transpiring hit him. Hedrack had summoned creatures from deep in the abyssal planes to cover his departure. The foul beasts advanced as the high priest disappeared, sinking down into the floor of the dais and taking the captured druid with him. If he were allowed to go unhindered, Zuggtmoy would be freed and the lands around the temple would fall prey to her.
Trying to watch all the creatures at once, Shanhaevel backed away from the horrors, which were now advancing eagerly. The first, a tall, gaunt creature that resembled a skeleton with reddish leather stretched tightly over its frame, grinned malevolently as it darted forward, swinging both of its long, bony claws at the wizard. Shanhaevel stumbled away from the attack and nearly rolled within range of the second creature, an ebony monstrosity with the head of a slavering, fanged dog and four arms, which was threatening Govin. The beast’s eyes glowed a sickly violet, and Shanhaevel could smell the stench of rot as it lunged at the knight, swiping at him with two of its arms, both of which ended in snapping pinchers.
Another of the summoned creatures, a giant spike-backed toad with grotesquely human arms, loomed close to Shanhaevel, who rolled again, desperate to get away. It landed where he had been only a split-second before, bowling the dog-headed demon over. The two beasts tumbled to the side, snapping and hissing at one another. Govin waded in between them, swinging his sword with a well-practiced aim.
Shanhaevel scrambled to his feet and considered a spell that would harm these fiends. The two creatures Govin occupied ignored the wizard, but the tall, gaunt, skeletal monstrosity pounced forward again, causing the elf to fall back once more.
“Go!” Ahleage roared as he plowed into the red-skinned creature, slicing at it with his sword. “Save her!”
The skeletal demon swiped at Ahleage with a claw, but the man was quicker, severing its arm with a rapid strike.
Shanhaevel used the distraction to turn and run, sickened at the stench of rot, sulfur, and disease that radiated from the monsters. The last of the beings, a particularly horrid vulturelike monstrosity, also with humanlike arms, took flight and pursued him. The elf sprinted away, running past the great stairwell in the center of the temple and toward the throne in the distance. He kept running, even as he waited for the inevitable feel of claws raking across his back and a sharp beak ripping the flesh from his head and neck.
The vulture creature shot past Shanhaevel rather than attacking him, seeming to prefer to toy with him. It landed to block his path, near the huge hole in the floor where the Alliance had descended what seemed like an eternity ago. It spread its wings wide and screeched triumphantly, a sound that made the elf cringe as he drew up short, breathing heavily. Behind him, the other creatures howled, sending shivers down Shanhaevel’s spine, as they did battle with Govin and Ahleage. Shanhaevel glanced around desperately, looking for some means of escape.
He has Shirral! a part of him screamed. Hurry! There might still be enough time to save her. You must try! If you don’t reach her—
He couldn’t make himself think of what might happen to the druid if he didn’t reach her. But it won’t matter, he told himself, for Zuggtmoy will be freed, and we’ll all suffer the same fate. Panting, he wiped his sleeve across his eyes. His vision blurred with the sickening weight of the temple’s evil pressing in on him.
It’s the temple that makes you lose hope, he reminded himself. Focus! Don’t let it win!
Shanhaevel cleared his thoughts. The vulture-thing was closing with him, now, clacking its beak and screeching in delight. The wizard kept his staff in front of him, holding it in a defensive stance, waiting to see if he might get a chance to dart around the beast and reach the throne. No opportunity presented itself, though, and the wizard grew more and more frustrated as time slipped away.
There was a blur of motion in the corner of the wizards eye, and Draga slammed into the creature, driving it backward.
“Save the druid!” he roared as he stepped back, his sword in his hand. “Go, wizard! Go!”
The demon screamed at the newcomer before it, and when Shanhaevel darted forward, trying to slip past the two combatants, the fiend tried to cut the wizard off. Draga lunged again, sword up, slamming himself full force into the creature and driving his weapon into the vulture-thing’s chest. His momentum cracked the thin, hollow bones of one wing as he drove it back. The fiend stumbled, crying from the pain inflicted by the warrior and slashing at Draga with its talons and beak. It gouged Draga’s flesh in a spray of blood.
In one terrible instant, Shanhaevel realized that both friend and foe were about to tumble over the edge of the great pit. The planar beast was overbalanced. Tumbling backward, it flailed with its one good wing, trying to right itself as Draga continued to push it, drive it, oblivious to his own danger.
“Draga!” Shanhaevel cried out, taking a faltering step forward, hoping to catch his companion before both he and the abomination went over the edge. But the elf was much too far away and as his friend took that final step, the embraced combatants seemed to hang in empty space for a heartbeat before slipping down and away, lost.
Shanhaevel could only stare in horror at the dark pit. The final wail of the maimed monstrosity echoed as it fell to its death.
“Draga!” the elf shouted, devastated. Make it count! the wizard chided himself, shutting his mind off from the horror he had just witnessed. Make his sacrifice worth something! Move!
Shanhaevel shook off his despair and ran toward the dais once more. He brought into being a spell that he had never tried before, another of the potent magicks he had gleaned from studying Lanithaine’s tomes. Weaving the magical energies, the elf transformed, changing from the familiar form of an elf into the very odd and unfamiliar form of an owl. His heart pounded as he transformed, fearing he might lose his mind to the process, becoming an owl in thought as well as in body. But it did not happen. When the spell was complete, he was still Shanhaevel.
Spreading his arms wide, Shanhaevel discovered they were now feathered wings, and instinctually he took flight, rising swiftly. He soared toward the now-concealed throne. The elf prayed that some means of ingress was still available. He spotted a square hole where the throne had been and made directly for it, beating his wings furiously before the shaft could close.
Shanhaevel did not contemplate the consequences of his actions. He did not consider that he was flying straight toward a bloated, horrifying demon or the angry, vengeful high priest who was trying to free her. All he could think about was the deaths of his friends, retrieving the golden key, and rescuing Shirral. As he dived into the hole and winged his way down that black shaft, his mind burned with fury for Hedrack, and the hatred seemed to give him strength.
The shaft descended a fair distance. The bottom was faintly lit with unsettling purple, green, and sickly yellow light. Shanhaevel could see the throne resting on the floor directly below him. The seat was now empty. He wondered if Hedrack lay in wait at the bottom, ready to attack anything that appeared from above, or if, in the high priests pride, he assumed the abyssal creatures he had summoned would suffice to stave off any further interruptions. Regardless, Shanhaevel thought, Hedrack would not be expecting an owl to spring forth, and the elf hoped that would provide him with enough surprise that he could steal away the golden skull before Hedrack knew what had happened.