The globe of darkness had disappeared, and now the area where it had been was an open brawl. Kelle was in the middle of it, still swinging and blocking masterfully, though there were a number of bleeding cuts and grazes on her. A score of raiders lay dead on the ground, most from arrow wounds. But at least ten still remained, and Kelle and the others were tiring quickly. Now, at this late stage in the battle, neither side seemed willing to retreat. They all knew that whoever won now would get to live, and whoever surrendered or ran would be chased down and executed.
Ash spotted Elva near the bottom of one of the cliffs, bow in hand. He loosed, and an arrow buried itself in the leg of a man across the gorge. The man stumbled and dropped his sword, injured but not dead. And now that Ash was paying attention, she saw that there were a number of bandits who had been incapacitated with non-lethal arrow wounds in arms or legs. Ash raised an eyebrow at Elva. He'd been intentionally missing vital organs.
Suddenly someone was running at Elva. A woman had spotted him peering out from behind a tree, and was trying to get to him before he could line up another shot. Seeing the approaching figure, Elva's face went pale and he fumbled with his quiver. Dropping several arrows in the process. He carried no other weapons-he wouldn't be able to defend himself in close combat.
"Hey!" Ash shouted, running toward them, and both of them paused to look up at her. She raised her sword and swung wildly at the woman, who deflected the blow easily. The woman, scowling, raised her own sword, and would probably have run Ash through if Elva hadn't taken the opportunity to kick her hard in the back.
With a grunt, the woman went sprawling to the ground, but she rolled and was on her feet again before Ash could finish her off. Ash held her sword in front of her, like she'd seen Drizzt do, but she had no idea what to do with it after that. Maybe she was not holding it quite right, or maybe her fear had just shown on her face, because then the woman smirked. She knew perfectly well that Ash had no idea what she was doing.
The woman lunged, and Ash flinched, holding the sword in front of her and hoping it would hit something.
There was a strangled sound. Ash's sword hadn't hit anything, nor had she been hit herself. She looked up, and found Kelle standing behind the woman, having driven a sword into her back. The woman folded and fell, dead. Kelle looked up at Ash, her shoulders rising and falling visibly as she panted with effort.
"It's time to end this," she said, with more confidence than any of them should have rightly had. "Are you ready?"
She wasn't. But they didn't have much choice. They were still outnumbered, and they were not going to survive if they didn't do something drastic soon.
"What do you need me to do?" Ash said.
Kelle gave a nod of approval. "Come with me." She turned to Elva and held out her sword. "You-take this, and follow."
Elva's eyes widened in fear, but he took the sword.
Kelle led them to an area in the dim away from the center of the gorge. Ash didn't realize that Erith was perched on a branch above them until she heard the soft thunk of his bowstring as he loosed. She glanced at his quiver. He had only two arrows left.
"Better get a move on," he commented grimly.
"We're working on it," Kelle said. She took Ash's hand again, and turned to Elva. "Make sure no one gets to us before we finish the spell."
Elva paled even more, if possible, but nodded quickly. He moved to stand between them and the raiders. Already, some of the raiders had spotted them and were splitting off from the group to approach them. Kelle raised her hands in the air as if to accompany a chant, then hesitated.
Ash peered up at her. "Which spell?"
Kelle pursed her lips, watching the mob of raiders which were slowly beginning to turn toward them, and Ash realized that she hadn't decided on a spell yet. She didn't have a plan.
"I cannot manage very much more magic," Kelle admitted. Her eyes darted from target to target, as if trying to decide which ones to hit with her limited remaining power.
"The last spell in the book you gave me," Ash said suddenly, with desperation now that they had only seconds left. Kelle looked down at her quizzically. "A sleep spell," Ash clarified.
"You've learned the sleep spell?" Kelle said, surprised.
"Not exactly," Ash said. "But it's 'surprisingly simple'. That's what you wrote in the book."
"Simple to cast on one person, not many," Kelle argued, but then she shook her head in resignation. There was no more time to decide. "Follow my lead," she said.
Elva tensed, holding his sword out in front of him, as several raiders approached. His shoulders slumped with relief when one of Erith's arrows took down one and the others hurriedly ducked behind cover.
Kelle chanted quietly, calmly, and rapidly. Ash listened, trying to pick out words, but it was too fast to follow. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the oncoming people with swords and focus on lending her power to Kelle. Through Kelle, she could sense the spell forming. Though she had never cast this spell before, she could begin to make sense of it. It was like a physical, living thing in front of them, and the shape of it felt almost tangible-suddenly no more abstract than the grass and trees around them, and no more difficult to understand.
And then, everything began to fall apart. Ash felt the spell wavering, like a flame that had run out of wood to burn. She looked up at Kelle. Her free hand was still moving, slowly, as she struggled to weave the spell into place. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She looked...afraid.
Ash took her hand away from Kelle's, and began copying her movements. Kelle glanced down at her, distracted for only a moment, before continuing. They moved in unison, building the spell together, and Ash felt the spell strengthening again.
She was only half aware of the fight going on in front of them, but she spotted Reyna take a hit and go down. Her opponent raised his sword and brought it down hard into her chest. Reyna's limbs tensed and contorted in pain before going slack. Ash's throat constricted, and her hands paused in shock.
"Focus!" Kelle said sharply. Ash could tell that the spell was almost finished, but something was holding it back. They needed more power, and they simply didn't have any. They held the spell in place, preventing it from dissolving but unable to push it to completion.
An arrow shot over their heads, and there was a cry from above them, and a heavy thump as Erith fell from the tree and onto the ground behind them. This time it was Kelle who faltered. She glanced over her shoulder, eyes wide.
"Gods damn it," she muttered, her voice strained. Her hands were shaking, as were Ash's. "We can do this," she said, shuddering slightly. "Just-just-"
She raised her hands high, and squeezed her eyes shut, and there was a swell of magic energy. The spell began to slide into place-the raiders could feel it too, Ash could tell. Their movements slowed. An insubstantial haze fell over the gorge, and everything seemed slower, as if they were all underwater. Ash's heart fluttered. It was going to work.
And then Kelle collapsed on the ground beside Ash.
It had been too much, and she'd lost consciousness under the effort of forcing the spell. All the weight that she had been carrying fell suddenly onto Ash's shoulders, and she nearly caved under it. Her vision swam and her blood pounded in her ears as she struggled to hold the spell on her own. The haze was still there. It was so close.
Through the haze and the spots in her vision, she saw Elva looking back at her. His face was frightened but resigned. He knew he was about to die. He turned to face the raiders again, in time to inexpertly deflect a blow from one of them. He slowly backed away as he tried to fight them off-prolonging the inevitable.
And then she saw Drizzt. He had emerged from his cover behind the tree and was coming toward her. He held only one sword. His other hand was occupied-pressed tight against his side in a futile attempt to stem the flow of blood. Ash met his eyes, and gently shook her head. He did not look apologetic for what he was doing. He'd realized that the spell was not going to work, and had decided to die fighting beside her, whether she wanted him to or not.
Grimacing, Ash raised her arms high, as Kelle had, and directed the spell outward. She searched herself for more power. She reached deep inside herself, all the way to her toes and to the ends of her hair.
As she directed the spell, a jolt of pain ripped through her, like a muscle being torn. She'd done too much-overreached her bounds-and it still wasn't enough.
Through her hazy vision she saw Elva run by her. Sword-bearing figures approached her, now only a few steps away. Someone was saying her name. It all seemed very far away.
She pushed, and she felt the spell explode from her hands. She heard someone scream, and then realized it was herself. Pain struck through every part of her body and took her breath away. She felt herself falling, felt her knees digging into the damp, cold ground. Ahead of her, a figure staggered and fell to one knee.
She felt someone take hold of her arm as she fell. The world spun. Then, nothing.
Drizzt sat at the base of a tree, one hand pressed tightly, painfully, against his bleeding side. Ash was lying on the ground beside him, unconscious. He watched her closely to make sure she was still breathing. He knew she was, but it made him feel better to be sure. He held onto her hand. He wanted to pick her up and hold her. But this would have to be enough.
The blade had gone straight through his crumbling mail armor. The metal links had been deteriorating and breaking off for some time by then, just as his piwafwi had been gradually shredding into pieces. It looked more like cobwebs than real fabric now. He suspected that the sunlight was burning both items apart. He wondered if the same thing would have happened to his body, if he'd stayed on the surface long enough.
There was a shuffling of movement behind the tree, and then the surface elf, Erith, paused to look down at him as he walked by. There was a hole in the leather armor on his chest, near his collar bone, from the arrow he'd been hit with. It had probably still hit flesh, but the leather had kept it from going too deep.
He didn't try to help. They both knew there was nothing to be done. They exchanged a brief, knowing look. The surface elf gave him a small nod, then went to check on his wizard.
All of the raiders had dropped at the same time that Ash did. For a terrifying and awe-inspiring moment, he'd thought she'd instantly killed them all. He was only slightly less awestruck when he realized they were merely asleep.
The villager who Drizzt had privately named 'Nervous' was still sitting nearby, staring into space in some kind of shock. He watched as the surface elf drove his sword through the chests of the sleeping raiders, one by one. Nervous gave a small flinch every single time, as if the impact were new again each time. Drizzt had decided that Nervous was one of the humans he liked.
Nervous seemed reluctant to move too far from Drizzt, as if he might still offer some protection even in this state. The boy looked over at him. His fearful expression broke into a shaky smile, and he said something in common that Drizzt couldn't decipher.
Drizzt started to shake his head slowly, and immediately stopped. Even that small movement hurt. "I can't understand," he murmured in drow, apologetically. Nervous stiffened at hearing the strange language, as if it had reminded him again of what Drizzt was-something alien and frightening.
Drizzt looked down at Ash again, squeezing her limp hand. Her skin was warm. His own body felt uncomfortably cold. He would have given anything for her to wake up now. He knew she would not have had the strength to heal him again, even if she were conscious. He just wanted her to be with him.
He thought of the spell she'd cast on him earlier that night, and frowned to himself, irritated. It was a difficult spell. He'd known it was, and he'd asked her for it anyway. If he hadn't panicked-if he'd been a little stronger-she wouldn't have had to do it, and she could have conserved more of her strength. Perhaps she would still be awake now.
There was activity at the end of the gorge. A burst of fire shot into the air, and then another. Someone was dragging a sword through the remaining enchanted ashes along the mouth of the gorge so that they couldn't be triggered accidentally. By the time they finished, the end of the sword was glowing hot orange.
More humans from the village were arriving. They surveyed the area with looks of dismay and horror. A few of their number lay dead along with the raiders, and they were already mourning. Ash was right-they were not warriors. They were not accustomed to violence and death on this scale. There was something heart-warmingly innocent about their reactions, and he almost smiled. And then he frowned at himself again, guilty for finding comfort in their distress.
They wandered closer, their eyes occasionally landing on him, and he watched them back warily, trying to remember which of them were ones he liked and which were ones he didn't. A lot of humans looked quite similar.
He wouldn't be able to fight back if anyone felt like taking out some of their anger on him before he died-and it would not surprise him if they did. He squeezed Ash's hand again. She would have kept them away from him if she were awake.
He spotted someone nearby wearing Ash's cloak. It was the red-haired woman from before, with the small children. He'd nicknamed her 'Quiet'. She turned toward him. Her eyes swept down to Ash, then back up to him. She started toward them. Drizzt stiffened a little against his tree.
She stopped in front of them, and looked down at Ash. Her expression was one of loss and regret. She looked up at Drizzt, but lived up to the name he'd given her and didn't say anything.
It took him some time to remember the word. "Alive," he said in common. His mouth felt dry. He coughed, and another gush of blood pushed over his fingers. It was a horrible sensation. Dread washed over him. He allowed himself some self-pity. He may as well mourn himself. No one else would, except for Ash.
Quiet looked relieved at his revelation, but worry clouded her eyes again as she looked down at him. She fumbled with her pocket, and hurriedly pulled out a tiny bottle of something. She held it out to him. Drizzt stared at it, then at her. When he hesitated, she made a motion like drinking something, as if he wouldn't know what it was.
He took the bottle from her, and let go of Ash's hand to uncork it. He downed the small gulp of liquid all at once.
An odd tingling sensation rose in his belly and went through him in waves of prickling energy. There was an uncomfortable feeling like something moving inside him as flesh began to heal rapidly. It was not so dissimilar from when Ash healed him with a spell. It was faster, and perhaps less thorough, since there was no living being guiding the magic. There was none of the pleasant intimacy of being healed by another person's hands, but it did what it was supposed to. The wound still throbbed with pain, but it seemed to have sealed itself well enough to stop bleeding.
As the strange tingling began to fade away, he looked up at Quiet, a little disbelieving. She smiled at him.