Disclaimer. Filariid: mine. Notice dreadful name.
Plot: mine. Such as it is.
Spells: mine. But I hope they'd be possible with Tortallan magic.
Everything else: Ms Pierce's. I think.
Slowly, the door was opened. Alanna bit back a gasp as she looked at the opener - she could never get used to seeing creatures from visions in the flesh! Emir Filariid's face was dark and swarthy, his lips thin and tight. Olive-green flame glimmered around his strong, clenched hands.
"Well?" he snapped, muddy-green eyes flicking from her full mail to her sword and uncovered shield. "What is it, Lady Knight?"
"Adept Filariid, you hid your tracks absolutely beautifully. But not quite well enough, I'm afraid."
The mage's eyes widened enough to tell her that her shot had hit home, but he soon recovered himself. He shook his head and said quickly, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Really not? Oh, what a pity. I thought a man of your intelligence might spare me that line. Will I really have to tell you all about your plot to weaken the Queen? To kill her, the King's trust in Numair and the strength of Tortall in one spell? Yes, it was a brilliant plan, beautifully conceived and executed. But it's found out, now."
He screamed something in Old Thak - the first language of the Carthaki Empire - and threw khaki flames at her. She twisted her hand and the fire vanished. The unwritten truce broken, the Lioness drew her sword and attacked, executing a complex pass that snicked off his ear. He cried out and slapped her around the face. She cut off his other earlobe - a trick she'd learnt from her husband when he was the Rogue and she a squire - then reversed her blade to sever his head... except the sorcerer ducked, hurtled into his main chamber, grabbed a dagger and whipped it up her leg, leaving a shallow, bleeding gash. At that, the knight lost her temper. Advancing further into the chamber she hit low and hard, then threw a bolt of purple lightning as Filariid doubled over. Instantly olive flame appeared around him, a shield as if it were a reflex, and slowly he straightened.
"You cheat!"
Alanna's fury had passed. Burning with shame, she privately agreed with the Carthaki but kept still and silent. She was waiting for Filariid's next move.
It soon came. He threw a spell at her, moving so quickly that even her lightning-fast reflexes couldn't save her. She was enveloped in burning blazebalm, the deadly jelly used in combat. The Champion's burning mouth moved as, with an effort, she lifted a burning hand to sketch a burning rune in the air. The jelly disappeared with a pop and reappeared around Emir Filariid, but he was ready. The burning stuff melted away and he emerged, less singed than Alanna but far more angry. Blazing with fury and bleeding heavily from the sides of his head, he stepped slightly further forward.
"Nobody gets the better of me!" he hissed, pointing at the Lioness. Instinctively she ducked as he threw fire - but a flame hit her right hand and numbed it. Cursing fluently, she swapped her sword to the left and swept it in the first stroke of the Crescent Moon. She would have had his arm if he hadn't slashed viciously along her numb arm and hand with his dagger. She lowered her sword, shocked at the extent of the wound. It twisted from the back of her hand along her forearm to her shoulder. She waited, rubbing feeling back into her numb fingers, wanting him to think her beaten.
Obviously he didn't. A spell hit her in the chest and quickly sprouted thorns to engulf her. With an impatient gesture she melted them and sent a swift return to Filariid. He cried out as invisible hands battered his head from side to side. A line of blood ran from his mouth and his eyes grew dull.
Under cover of her attack, Alanna hurled her sword at him. The weakness in her arm was terrifying and, even more frightening, her aim was very off - but it hit him, at least. The mage cried out loudly as the blade that should have pierced his heart buried itself deeply in his upper arm.
Alanna was on him like a flash, tugging the sword from the wound and putting it to his throat. But his feet were working all right - he kicked her in the stomach, winding her, and then slashed with his dagger at her legs and arms. When the knight recovered herself, she was bleeding from two dozen cuts, some shallow but most deep and serious. Not that she much noticed the pain, in the heat of battle - but she knew even more clearly that she'd have to bring this thing to a speedy close, for more of her lifeblood was ebbing away with each beat of her too-hasty heart.
Emir Filariid, thinking that she had given up, set the shaman's outer clothes on fire. Boiling mad, the Champion tore them off. She ignored the second burns to her hands and body as she advanced towards the coward. This Carthaki barbarian had broken the laws of chivalry, the love of which years in the field had not managed to extinguish from her heart.
"You fiend!" she cried. "You utter cowardly fiend!"
He ignored the first time that she had spoken during the fight - an unwise choice, as Alanna's friends could have told him. Instead, he pointed at her and drew himself back to fire...
The Lioness said a word that made the very air scream. All that was left of Emir Filariid was a greenish stone.
The Bazhir shaman was all used up. But there was no time to rest! She had to stop Filariid's spell. Leaving the main chamber, she went into a workroom where there were seeing-crystals scattered about. She looked for the olive-coloured crystal she had Seen in the fire. Ah, there it was! It was covered in runes etched into the glass - runes to cause slow death. And in it was the image of the Queen.
Alanna shuddered. This was no time for finesse, or finicking spells to remove the danger! This was a time for action. She reversed her sword and brought the hilt down with all the strength she had on the crystal, smiling as it shattered into a thousand pieces. Only then did she realise that her many deep wounds were still bleeding heavily and that she felt dangerously light-headed.
No time to rest, she reminded herself again, biting the inside of her cheek to wake herself up. Then she set out for Thayet's chamber.
Kneeling by the Queen's bed, Alanna reached for the fire of her Gift... and stopped, feeling sick. The flame was burning horribly, dangerously low. She nearly gave in to the circumstances and stopped to rest...
NO! Thayet's more important. It's my destiny. Maybe it's the one thing I'm in the world for. But I didn't come this far to stop! There's no time to rest!
The Lioness reached past her Gift and into the strong white cylinder of her life-force. Slowly, realising all the implications of what she was doing, she drew up a long strand of white and fed it into the amethyst flame, creating a bridge between the two. Instantly her Gift flared up and she went deep into Thayet.
There was the life-force, burning - terrifyingly - lower than the Lioness' own Gift had done. Alanna began to push at her friend's white pillar, building it up with her own life-force through her Gift. As she worked, Alanna's life ebbed away. Often she had to stop, to pant and recover her concentration. Often she had to convince herself again to carry on.
The King's Champion stopped, looking at the tall, strong white pillar of Thayet's life force and comparing it with her own, burning itself out with every nudge of her parasitic Gift. She left Thayet and laid a healing to build up the sick woman's wasted strength. Then she came out of her healing trance. Her eyes saw dimly and very vaguely, as if through a veil, but she saw the Queen sit up in bed, stretch and yawn.
"Alanna!" she cried. "Was... was it you?"
Alanna nodded, losing her strength to do even that. Then she passed out.