Tantaerra looked back again. Yes, the pursuing Molthuni were much closer, and the dweomercats were darting excitedly up to the hooves of the rearmost Telcanors, falling back, then bounding up again.
They want to be where the magic is strongest. The Whispering Blade and the wizard wielding it are stronger than this gauntlet and Tarram's mask. We're doomed.
"Tarram Armistrade," she called, amid the pounding hooves, "it's time."
The mask-always, one mask or another-turned toward her. "Time?"
"You know a lot more about this Fearsome Gauntlet than you've told me," she said grimly. "When I open my mind to it, I just about get fried; there's no way I can stay in this saddle if I try now! If there's anything that can help us against Mahalagris-and that's him back there, in the wizard's body, I'm sure of it-you have to tell me! Our only hope is if he dismisses me as a know-nothing and goes for you …and by then, it'll be too damned late to tell me anything! Now's the time to say all!"
Before The Masked could reply, the night behind them erupted in roaring flames.
Horses screamed and faltered, a wave of heat rolled over them, and …they were still alive, still galloping raggedly on.
Tantaerra looked back. Flames from the fireball were racing away in all directions through the grass, the dew clinging to it going up in smoke, and behind her horse's tail was nothing but blackened earth. The back of the Telcanor ring-including its capable leader-was simply gone. Blown to burning, tumbling ashes.
There was nothing now but whirling embers and cinders, grass, and moonlit air between Tantaerra and her partner, and their pursuers.
"Imagine you're holding up a shield in front of you," Tarram blurted, "and looking over its curved top edge, in this moonlight, so you see a silvery curve. Yes? Hold that image in your mind, and open to the gauntlet. Ignore all its chaos, and hold that image."
Tantaerra did that. The magic tugged at her thoughts, at her very head, but she clung to the image of a silver arc. "Done," she gasped.
"Picture the silver turning glowing white," The Masked said swiftly, "and hold that new bright white light in your mind."
Luraumadar, his mask said excitedly, in a hiss the gauntlet let Tantaerra hear-the same hiss as the Whispering Blade. Luraumadar.
Tantaerra clung to that image, aware that the knuckles of the Fearsome Gauntlet were now glowing that same hue. Tarram reached out and closed his hand firmly around her leg.
Mahalagris stood up in his stirrups and hurled another spell. She could feel it rushing toward them, feel it looming up to crash over-
There was an eerie green flash of light, and the air shattered.
All around them it cracked, in a great blast that took the legs out from under every horse in the hard-galloping ring, hurling every last Telcanor out of his saddle.
Leaving Tantaerra, her partner, and their horses untouched amid a tight shroud of snarling air, as magic warred with magic-and then was gone, racing back to smash into the legs of the pursuing horses like a glowing green fist, bowling them over as it had the Telcanors.
Tantaerra looked at The Masked as he released his grip. The gauntlet had gone dark.
"We can only use that protection the once," Tarram told her, fighting to control his frightened horse. "It's done until tomorrow."
Tantaerra rolled her eyes. "Which means the next…"
He didn't even have time to nod before the next spell came.
Not at them, this time, but at the ground right in front of them, blasting it into the air in a geyser of lofted dirt and stones to carve out a huge pit floored with a heap of suddenly exposed boulders.
Their horses plunged helplessly into the earthen gulf, shrieking-and Tantaerra was flung through the air, Tarram cartwheeling along beside her.
He slammed into deep, loose earth with a grunt. She bounced off his shoulder, skidded on her behind a long way through crackling grass, fell into a roll, and came to a halt with dirt raining down on her head out of the night sky.
Fury choked her. "Gods-cursed wizards!" she spat. "Spells, spells, spells! Smash this corner of Golarion, then that one! Let's see how you like it!"
Ignoring the dweomercats, she lifted her arm toward the gleaming line of armored Molthuni soldiers now coming at her on foot and gave them lightning. A crackling line of searing blue-white sprang from one armored soldier to the next, sending them into spasmodic jerkings and stiff staggerings. Then the lightning was done, and armored warriors lay sprawled and fallen, with smoke curling up from their motionless bodies.
One horse and rider loomed untouched among the dweomercats. Mahalagris's new host grinned, eyes glowing blue, and raised the Whispering Blade.
Tantaerra faced him, panting. She could punch him with the gauntlet, but he'd probably be magically protected against its blows. If she concentrated on his hands and his mouth, just maybe …
He laughed coldly, and spurred his mount into a gallop. Right at her.
"Tarram?" Tantaerra called, not daring to try to sort through the gauntlet's powers with a charging warrior thundering at her.
There came no reply. Well, time to do what halflings did best.
Tantaerra ran, heading for horses that were down but struggling, dodging wildly kicking hooves. A horse could be shelter enough to keep the wizard from riding her down or easily slicing her apart as he galloped past.
He tried, with a brutal disregard for good horses, but a leaping, rolling, and ducking halfling was a far smaller target than a human, and he missed.
Why doesn't he just blast me? Oh, of course-the gauntlet. He wants it undamaged.
Tantaerra didn't stand still to ponder this or watch Mahalagris wheel around in a sweeping turn to come back at her. She rushed to the heap of exposed boulders, kicking at her partner as she ran past. "Up! Up, damn you, Armistrade! This is no time to-"
Then the wizard was on her again, the thunder of racing hooves almost deafening, the Whispering Blade lashing out.
Come kiss me, little one!
Its entreaties hissed past her ear as she ducked low behind a large boulder, just getting clear. Mahalagris wheeled his horse around hard, trying to deny her time to find better cover.
Heart pounding, Tantaerra didn't try. She had to do this just right, or …
A lashing hoof almost drove her chin up through the crown of her head, but she flung herself sideways and it laid open her ear instead. Rebounding bruisingly off a rock she'd just inadvertently hurled herself against, Tantaerra sprinted up a rising stair of boulders and launched herself from the highest one in a desperate leap.
Thank the General Lords for putting so many bad riders on horseback, giving Molthuni saddles such high backs. She caught hold of the one Mahalagris was sitting in and swarmed up him.
Mahalagris worked a swift magic that wove a halo of spitting sparks around her daggers and buckles and all else metal, leaving her hand numbed and spasming.
To keep from falling off, she wrapped herself around the wizard's neck and shoulders from behind, entwining her legs around his shoulder, watching the Whispering Blade rising to slice at her.
He doesn't care what happens to this body he's using. It won't let go in pain, or go wild if I blind it, or-
We meet at last, the Whispering Blade greeted her triumphantly, as its edge came at her face.