| |
“Dying! Dying!” Petie screeched, landing in front of Glenn, franticly bobbing and flapping his wings.
Ron or the others might sense the blue jay’s distress, but the gnome healer could interpret it.
Glenn had been keeping in the shadows, watching Derek pound the crap out of a pair of nosy drunks. The gnome healer broke from his cover and sprinted across the street. Careless of who heard, he yelled toward Ron, “Marigold’s dying!”
He pounded his way toward Sterjin’s Glass, no clue what he’d do once he reached the magically sealed main door. Two thirds of the way there, he unslung his shield. He’d try ramming it open first. After that, his cudgel. If that didn’t work, at least he might’ve triggered the doors magical defenses, leaving Derek free to break through and save Stephi. He knew Ron and Derek would come running.
Three strides away the steel-reinforced door flung open. Glenn lowered his head and plowed forward, colliding with a man desperate to leave.
Glenn’s momentum and low center of gravity bowled the man back. Glassblower and gnome tumbled to the floor in a jumble of flailing arms and kicking legs. The gnome rolled away from the glassblower. Away from the scrapes of shuffling feet on the granite floor, along with shattering glass. The man near him frantically got to his feet. His leather apron blackened along with patches of his flesh.
Before the door swung closed, Ron slipped in. Anticipating violence, the warrior druid ended the burnt man’s life with a spear thrust to the throat.
Ron kicked the dying man back into the room, closed the door behind him and dodged right. He grabbed the gnome’s arm and yanked him back behind a fallen display case.
A raging battle filled the center of the display area. Two swift, beautiful women of glass exchanged blows with a fiery whirlwind. They slashed with their crystal daggers while dodging tentacles of flame whipping out of the spinning tornado of flame. The glass golems’ attacks appeared to weaken the enraged fire elemental spirit, like a cup of water being tossed into a raging campfire. Minor in individual effect, but enough would eventually snuff the flames.
As the room’s temperature rose, smoke began filling it.
The glass women’s swift movements avoided most of the flame attacks. When they failed, portions of their bodies melted like blue-tinted wax.
Ron gripped Glenn’s hand and began a spell. Upon its completion he said, “Minor Heat Resistance.”
Glenn nodded understanding as the effects of the room’s heat diminished.
“I shall seek Marigold out here,” Ron said. “You shall seek her within the furnace.”
Without a word Glenn moved to his right, his heavy boots stomping on broken glass. In a rush he raced toward the counter that separated the display area from the fabrication area and furnace. At the last second, the gnome healer ducked and raised his shield, barely deflecting one of the melting women’s daggers. Although she didn’t cut him, the solid strike jarred his shoulder, causing at least a hit point or two of damage.
The distraction cost her greatly, as the fire elemental got in a flank strike. Realizing the greater enemy, the glass guardian turned and attacked the fiery elemental spirit.
Glenn climbed over the counter, stepped over a body burned beyond recognition, and reached the circular opening to the furnace. Knowing it was going to be dangerously hot, beyond what Ron’s spell could counter, he discarded his shield and cudgel, reached up and pulled himself into the opening. Because the magical lotion covered his palm and fingers, he felt none of the furnace porthole’s residual heat. But, squeezing through it, his leather jerkin didn’t fare as well. Still, Ron’s spell dampened the effect on both the gnome and his attire.
Even though the gnome’s body blocked most of the flaring light through the porthole, narrow shafts revealed Stephi on the furnace’s far side. She lay sprawled on her back with wings unmoving.
She appeared unconscious but uninjured, yet dying.
“I see Marigold!” Glenn shouted, his voice nearly cracking. “She’s in here!” He hoped Ron heard.
Glenn finished squirming through the hole and tumbled to the furnace floor. On hands and knees, he frantically crawled around the broken magical circle, toward her, beginning the words of his spell before he made it there.
A welling tear evaporated before reaching his cheek. He placed a hand on Stephi’s beautiful face, completing his Minor Heal Draw Spell.
Searing pain filled the gnome healer’s chest. He collapsed onto the stone floor, unable to scream.