Diffraction

Interlude - Lisbett

Despite their best efforts, Lisbett "the Swiftspear" Thornton and her companions were about to die.

Her mind raced through dwindling options, and her hands whirled a spear in a blur before her. Short frog-like figures surrounded her with mouths far too wide, jaws bristling with rows of sharp teeth. Kem'Tamin the citizens of the ancient empire dubbed them—Cursed Earth, a twisted cousin of the rocky Duns.

But Lisbett and her companions called them Biters, a name that now seemed all too apt. They snapped and bit at her, but her lithe form stayed out of reach and her spear kept them at bay.

For now. Resolve fought despair in her heart, the conflict as desperate as the physical battle she now fought. Twenty-three Midsummers is too short a life.

Blood from a deep scratch ran down her freckle-dusted cheek. She kept her long hair—the color of burnt autumn—pulled back in a tight bun to deny foes an easy advantage. Dirt caked on her leather hauberk and trousers, a sign of the distance the companions covered over the last three days.

Lisbett felt an unnatural shift to the wind in the crowded tunnel. Time to get down. The light underground breeze changed to strong gusts. She jabbed her spear to threaten the nearest few Kem'Tamin with its glimmering point, forcing them to step back. Then she threw herself to the ground, shielding her face with her leather gauntlets. The wind rushed past, whistling in an ever-rising shrill note, swirling in a tight sphere above and in front of her vulnerable form. She covered her ears and opened her mouth.

One brave creature leapt forward past the wind, its claws extended, yellow eyes hungry.

The tunnel shook with a blast of fire and superheated air. Ears ringing, Lisbett looked up through her gloved fingers. Several pale green legs littered the ground, smoke curling up where they had been seared above their kneecaps. Lisbett's nose turned in disgust as she sprung back to her feet.

Nothing worse than burnt Biter. She glared at Saril.

His pale lips split into a grin and his translucent face glowed with laughter. Long pointed ears poked out from an unruly spray of white hair. Flowing emerald robes with gold embroidery marked his rank among Arcanists. Their Hall was one of a few places where an Aeramental could achieve high social standing.

His mouth moved, but she couldn't make out anything he said. Then she saw the Arcanist's eyes widen. She whipped her spear back around, raising her shield instinctively. Several small objects rattled against the wood—rocks slung at her by the next wave of Kem'Tamin. How many more can there be down here?

The lightorb on her forehead revealed a dozen or so yellow-eyed Biters. They charged with reckless abandon, a furious crowd of small filthy humanoids swinging weapons carelessly, sometimes hitting each other in their mad assault on the invaders. The tallest of them stood chest-high compared to Lisbett. It snapped at her as it swung a crude blade, vile breath washing past its many brown fangs.

Her ears still rang from the explosion. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Saril's hands moving rapidly, presumably Refocusing more energy.

He won't have another spell ready in time, Lisbett decided. She shifted her stance and focused on defense.

The swarm leapt at her. Blades and clubs slashed out from every direction, but Lisbett danced around the haphazard assault. A hammer blow shook her shield-arm, and she drove her spear deep into the stomach of the attacker. But another dove under her defenses to sink its teeth into her boots. The thick leather protected her, though she felt the terrible pressure and sudden shift of weight as it struck. She stumbled, nearly thrown off balance.