war of the spider queen 4 extinction-第8部分

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　of　it；　so　the　person　he'd　just　heard　wouldn't　spot　the　movement　of　shadowed　gray　against　shadowed　gray…then　he　halted　the　equivalent　of　a　dozen　paces　above　the　opening。　He　hung　there；　carefully　controlling　his　breathing　so　that　not　even　a　whisper　of　sound　escaped　his　lips。　He　waited。
　　　A　moment　later；　a　dark　face　appeared　in　the　tunnel　mouth。　The　strange　drow's　ebony　skin　blended　with　the　darkness　of　the　tunnel　behind　it；　as　did　the　black　mask　that　hid　his　lower　face…the　symbol　of　a　cleric　of　Vhaeraun…but　his　white　hair　and　faintly　glowing　red　eyes　stood　out　in　sharp　relief。　He　peered　up　at　where　Ryld　floated。　A　chimney　was　a　natural　place　to　expect　an　ambush。
　　　Slowly；　Ryld　slid　his　finger　into　the　trigger　of　the　crossbow　that　was　strapped　to　his　wrist；　but　the　cleric　didn't　appear　to　have　spotted　him。
　　　After　a　quick　scan　of　the　chimney　above；　the　cleric　turned　his　attention　downward。　Pulling　a　forked　bit　of　bone　out　of　a　pocket　of　his　piwafwi；　he　grasped　it　with　the　thumb　and　forefinger　of　each　hand　and　held　it　over　the　chimney；　then　spoke　the　words　of　a　spell。　The　bone　glowed　with　a　soft　purple　light。　A　moment　later；　the　light　coalesced　at　the　point　of　the　V…shaped　bone；　then　erupted　into　a　sizzling　purple　spark。　The　spark　began　to　drift　up；　then　hesitated　and　drifted　slowly　and　steadily　downward。　It　came　to　a　halt　in　front　of　the　tunnel　Ryld　had　just　climbed　out　of　before　it　winked　out。
　　　The　priest　turned　and　signed　to　someone　in　the　tunnel　behind　him；　They　went　this　way。
　　　That　seen；　Ryld's　suspicions　were　confirmed。　The　cleric　was　from　House　Jaelre　and　was　seeking　vengeance　for　the　death　of　his　high　priest。
　　　Ryld　watched　in　silence　as　the　cleric　and　two　well…armed　males　descended　toward　the　tunnel。　The　cleric　and　one　of　the　warriors　simply　stepped　out　of　the　tunnel　and　drifted　magically　downward；　but　the　second　warrior　was　forced　to　climb　down　the　narrow　corner　of　the　chimney；　his　back　braced　against　one　wall；　hands　and　feet　against　the　other。　Tactically；　that　was　the　moment　for　Ryld　to　strike…or　to　flee；　since　the　grunts　and　scuffing　noises　the　climbing　male　was　making　would　cover　the　sound　of　him　entering　the　tunnel　they'd　just　left。
　　　Ryld　didn't　care　about　Quenthel　Baenre。　He　had　acpanied　her　because　he'd　been　ordered　to。　Valas　could　take　care　of　himself　in　a　fight；　and　Danifae　was　from　another　city；　and　no　concern　of　Ryld's。　But　Pharaun；　even　though　he　was　a　powerful　mage；　had　just　been　in　a　fight　with　a　demon。　He　would　be　easy　pickings　for　those　three。　。　。　。
　　　Flipping　back　his　piwafwi；　Ryld　shot　his　crossbow　at　the　cleric。　The　tiny　bolt　struck　the　drow's　cheek；　plowing　a　furrow　of　red　across　it。　As　the　powerful　poison　on　the　barb　entered　his　bloodstream；　the　cleric　sagged　in　mid…air　and　was　forced　to　grab　at　the　mouth　of　one　of　the　tunnels　as　his　levitation　magic　failed　him。　Crawling　into　it；　he　lay　trembling　on　its　stone　floor；　his　lips　moving　in　whispered　prayer。
　　　Ryld　touched　his　brooch　and　dropped　like　a　stone。　He　twisted　as　he　fell；　simultaneously　drawing　his　short　sword　and　lashing　out　with　a　foot　as　he　passed　the　climbing　drow。　Braced　against　the　rock　as　he　was；　the　man　could　do　nothing　but　close　his　eyes　against　the　kick　Ryld　aimed　at　his　face。　The　blow　rocked　his　head　back；　smashing　it　into　the　wall　with　a　loud　crack。　An　instant　later；　his　unconscious　body　tumbled　after　Ryld。
　　　Pushing　off　from　a　wall；　Ryld　activated　the　magic　of　his　brooch　a　second　time；　checking　his　fall。　The　unconscious　drow　tumbled　past；　landing　with　a　bone…snapping　thud　against　the　floor　far　below。　In　the　meantime；　the　levitating　warrior　had　drawn　his　weapon：　a　spiked　mace。
　　　Ryld　floated　down　toward　him；　short　sword　at　the　ready。　His　opponent　shouted　something…a　mand　word…and　the　head　of　his　mace　burst　into　bright；　magical　light。　Blinded　by　the　sudden　brilliance；　Ryld　instinctively　twisted　aside…and　heard　the　mace　strike　a　shattering　blow　against　the　wall　beside　his　head。　His　foot　lashed　out　a　second　time　but　missed　its　target。　The　warrior　was　used　to　fighting　in　sunlight　and　had　easily　avoided　the　kick。
　　　Cursing；　Ryld　summoned　a　magical　darkness　that　filled　the　chimney。　Neither　of　them　could　see；　so　both　had　to　listen　carefully　over　the　sound　of　the　cleric's　prayers　for　the　faint　shifts　of　fabric　and　armor　in　order　to　locate　his　opponent。
　　　A　rush　of　air　warned　Ryld　of　a　second　mace　blow。　He　twisted　violently　back；　inadvertently　falling　a　little　as　his　levitation　magic　was　interrupted。　His　sword　arm　brushed　the　chimney　wall…and　an　instant　later　the　mace　smashed　into　his　elbow；　numbing　his　arm　to　the　fingertips。　He　tried　to　swing；　but　the　sword　slipped　from　his　fingers。
　　　The　mace　smashed　in　a　second　time；　catching　him　in　the　stomach。　Ryld's　breastplate　stopped　the　spikes　from　penetrating；　but　even　so；　the　force　of　the　blow　made　him　grunt。　His　opponent　was　better　than　Ryld　had　expected。
　　　Ryld　heard　his　short　sword　clatter　against　the　bottom　of　the　chimney；　far　below。　Meanwhile；　the　cleric's　prayer　had　increased　in　volume　from　a　whisper　to　a　chant。　The　cleric　must　have　been　using　his　magic　to　neutralize　the　poison；　which　meant　that　Ryld　would　soon　have　two　threats　to　face。　In　the　narrow　chimney；　the　greatsword　strapped　to　his　back　was　useless。　He　wouldn't　be　able　to　bring　Splitter　to　bear。　That　meant　close　fighting。　Very　close。
　　　Kicking　off　from　a　wall；　Ryld　launched　himself　horizontally　at　the　sound　of　his　opponent's　breathing。　His　fingers　brushed　against　a　mail　tunic；　but　then　he　heard　the　rush　of　a　mace。　He　twisted；　but　the　weapon　connected　with　his　shoulder。　He　was　saved　from　injury　by　the　dragon…shaped　ring　on　his　finger…the　ring　that　marked　Ryld　as　a　Master　of　Melee…Magthere…for　its　magic　made　his　skin　and　flesh　as　tough　as　that　of　a　dragon。　The　spikes　of　the　mace　bent　as　they　struck；　and　the　weapon　glanced　off。
　　　Meanwhile；　Ryld　clawed　his　way　up　his　opponent's　body；　stabbing　fingers　into　pressure　points。　The　man　grunted；　gasped…then　made　a　loud；　choking　gurgle　as　Ryld　found　his　throat　and　crushed　his　windpipe。　His　body　went　limp；　and　he　too　tumbled　away。
　　　They　must　have　been　losing　elevation　during　the　fight。　Ryld　emerged　from　the　magical　darkness　and　could　see　again。　And　the　cleric　could　see　Ryld。
　　　Shouting　an　invocation　to　his　god；　he　tore　the　mask　from　his　face　and　hurled　it　at　Ryld。　The　weapons　master　twisted　and　dropped；　but　the　mask　followed　him　with　the　speed　of　a　swooping　bat。　It　slapped　against　his　face　and　adhered　tightly　against　his　nose　and　mouth　with　a　wet　sucking　sound。
　　　Ryld　tried　to　tear　the　mask　from　his　face；　but　it　clung　to　his　skin　like　fungus　to　a　rock。　Unable　to　breathe…a　single　indrawn　breath　would　draw　the　contagion　the　mask　carried　deep　into　his　lungs…Ryld　did　the　only　thing　he　could。　He　touched　his　brooch　and　dropped。　Somehow；　he　was　able　to　avoid　drawing　a　breath　as　he　caught　the　ledge　where　the　cleric　stood。　He　held　his　breath　still　as　he　wrenched　his　head　up　to　the　level　of　the　ledge；　then　swung　his　legs　up　in　a　graceful　leap。　The　mental　discipline　taught　to　him　by　the　masters　of　Melee…Magthere　sustained　him　as　he　sprang　toward　the　startled　cleric；　hands　poised　to　strike。　Dark　sparkles　danced　before　his　eyes　as　he　reached　the　limits　of　what　his　body　could　do　without　air　to　sustain　it…and　he　passed　those　limits；　still　rushing　forward。
　　　The　cleric；　red　eyes　wide　with　fear；　danced　backward；　avoiding　Ryld's　charge。　Then；　nerve　broken；　he　turned　and　fled；　screaming　the　words　of　a　prayer。　A　circle　of　darkness　appeared　in　the　air　just　ahead　of　him；　and　he　hurled　himself　into　it。　Then　he　was　gone。
　　　An　instant　later；　the　mask　vanished　from　Ryld's　face。　Able　to　breathe　again；　Ryld　drew　a　shuddering　breath　and　steadied　himself　against　one　wall。　For　the　moment；　all　was　well。　The　cleric　was　gone；　his　magic　having　spirited　him　away；　and　the　two　warriors　of　House　Jaelre　who　had　acpanied　him　were　dead。　Even　if　the　cleric　did　find　Pharaun　and　the　others；　Ryld　had　greatly　improved　the　odds。　In　the　meantime；　the　two　dead　bodies　would　give　his　excuse　about　going　back　to　see　who　was　following　them　the　ring　of　truth。　If　the　others　came　that　way　they　would　find　the　dead　warriors；　would　be　able　to　tell　from