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蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第50章

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fcooled magma。
Four bolts left; then three。 She pulled the trigger; the dart struck the demon in the middle of its horned; triangular head; and it winked out of existence。
She could still hear its voice; but knew that was just because it had shrieked so long and loudly。 She gave her head a shake; trying to quell the phantom sound; then glimpsed yet another shadow watching her from some distance away。
〃You〃
The other dark elf bolted。 Quenthel gave chase; but she was still a little winded from the struggle with the demon; and her quarry outdistanced her and disappeared。
The Baenre stalked on through the labyrinthine chambers and corridors until she rounded a bend and came face to face with three of her minions。 The goddess only knew what their true sentiments were; but confronted with her leveled arbalest and the obvious fact that; while her gear was much the worse for wear; she herself was unscathed; they hastily saluted。
〃I killed tonight's intruder;〃 she said; 〃and a homegrown enemy as well。 What do you know of our situation? Is anyone else dead?〃
〃No; Mistress;〃 said a priestess。 The lowered visor of her spidercrested helmet pletely concealed her features; but from her voice; Quenthel recognized Quave; one of the senior instructors。 〃Most of those who ate and drank the tainted meal are waking。 I think the poisoner only wanted to render us unconscious; not kill us。〃
〃Apparently;〃 said Quenthel; 〃she was willing to let the demon administer the coup de grace to me。 What of those who encountered the entity before I did?〃
Quave hesitated; then said; 〃When they tried to hinder it; it hurt them; but not to the point of death。 They should recover as well。〃
〃Good;〃 Quenthel said; though she took no joy in knowing she was the unknown enemy's sole target。
〃What are your orders; Mistress?〃 asked Quave。
〃We'll have to sort out the living from the dead; and deal with each accordingly。 We'll also look for the place where the demon got in; and seal it。〃
These were tasks that would doubtless keep her occupied for the rest of the night; but she knew she had to find a way to stop the intrusions; and pull the fangs of another crisis as well。
It would all for make an arduous day's labor; with the oute uncertain enough to depress even a high priestess。 Still; her mood lifted slightly when her vipers began to stir。
* * *
〃I have a healing potion;〃 said Ryld。 He took a small pewter vial from his pouch; unstoppered it; and held it to Pharaun's lips。 The wizard drank the liquid down。
〃That might be a little better;〃 Pharaun said after a moment。 〃But it's still bad。 I'm still bleeding。 On the inside; too; I think。 Do you have any more?〃
〃No。〃
〃Pity。 A wretched little goblin did this。 I can't believe it。〃
〃Can you walk?〃 asked Ryld。
Pharaun would have to move or be moved; somehow。 He couldn't just lie in the street; not in the Braeryn; not on a night when the hunt was out。 It was far too dangerous。
〃Possibly。〃 The mage strained to lift himself up with his hands; then slumped back down。 〃But apparently not。〃
〃I'll carry you;〃 said Ryld。
He gathered the mage in his arms; and bidding Pharaun do the same; called upon the magic of his House insignia。 They floated slowly upward; and swung onto a rooftop。
The view from that vantage point was far from encouraging。 Screaming undercreatures ran through the streets and alleys of the Braeryn with whooping riders in pursuit。 The dark elves killed the goblins with the thrust of a lance; the slash of a sword; or simply by trampling them under the clawed feet of their lizards。 They tended to find intimate mayhem more amusing。 Some; however; had no qualms about loosing a quarrel or conjuring a blast of magic。
Still other drow wheeled above the scene on foulwings; wyverns; and other winged mounts。 Ryld saw danger on every side。
He hauled Pharaun up against a sort of gable in the hope that it would provide cover against the scrutiny of the flyers。
〃It's bad;〃 the swordsman said。 〃A lot of drow are hunting。 There's no clear path out of the district。〃
The wizard didn't reply。
〃Pharaun〃
〃Yes;〃 sighed his friend; 〃I'm still conscious。 Barely。〃
〃We'll hide here until the hunt ends。 I'll cover us with a patch of darkness。〃
〃That might w—〃
Pharaun gasped and thrashed。 Ryld held on to him for fear that he'd roll off the roof。
When the seizure ended; the Mizzrym's face seemed gaunt and drawn in a way it hadn't been before。 More blood seeped from his wounded stomach。
〃This isn't going to work;〃 said Ryld; 〃not by itself。 Unless you have some more healing; you're going to die。〃
〃That would be 。。。 a profound tragedy 。 。 。 but 。 。 。〃
〃We have plenty of dark elves in the Braeryn tonight。 One of them surely brought some restorative magic along。 I'll just have to take it from him; or her。 Here's that darkness。〃
Ryld touched the roof and conjured a shadow that covered the Master of Sorcere and not much else。 With luck; the effect was localized enough that no one would notice the obscuration itself。
The weapons master rose and raced away。 Whenever possible; he ran along the rooftops; bounding from one to the next。 Often enough; however; the houses were far enough apart that he had to jump down to the ground and skulk his way through the slaughter。
It was at such a time that he saw another hunting party。 Unfortunately; the group was too large to tackle。 He had to hide from it instead。 Crouched low; he watched a mage on lizardback lob a yellow spark through the window of one of the houses。 Booming; yellow flame exploded through the room beyond。 A moment after it died; the screaming began。 Ryld winced。 As a child of six; he'd survived precisely such a massacre; and; severely blistered; lain trapped for hours beneath a weight of charred; stinking bodies; the luckier ones dead; the live ones whimpering and twitching in their helpless agony。
But it wasn't him burned nor buried tonight; and he spat the unpleasant memory away。 He glanced about; checking to see if anyone was looking at him; then broke from cover and floated upward。
He dashed on along a steeply sloping roof engraved with web patterns and defaced; he noticed; with another slave race emblem。 He sensed something above and behind him; and pivoted。 His boots slipped; and he levitated for an instant while he found his footing amid the carvings。
He looked up and spied a huge black horse galloping through the air as easily as the mon equines of the World Above could run across a field。 Fire crackled around its hooves and pulsed from its nostrils。 The dark elf male on its back held a scimitar; but wasn't making any extraordinary effort to lift it into position for a cut。 Apparently he was counting on his demonic steed to make the kill; and why not? What goblinoid could withstand a nightmare?
Ryld froze as if he were such a hapless undercreature paralyzed with fear。 Meanwhile; he timed the speed of the nightmare's approach。 At the last possible moment; hoping to take the phantom horse and its master by surprise; he whipped Splitter out of its scabbard and cut。
And missed。 Somehow the demon arrested its charge; and the blade fell short。
Its fiery hooves churning eighteen inches above the rooftop; the nightmare snorted。 Thick; hot; sulfurous smoke st
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