Braedrin's fate, Meisha thought. A choker, by all the gods, and it had a decent grip.

Talal's eyes bulged as his throat disappeared under layers of spongy flesh. The choker flexed muscles that had no clear definition, trying to yank the boy off his feet, but Talal dug in, the sticky substance keeping him rooted in place.

Looping one arm around the tentacle, Meisha prepared to cast another spell. If she could heat the thing's flesh sufficiently, the pain would make it release the boy. She'd used the same spell to try to escape from Kall, long ago. Somehow, she didn't believe the choker would be as tenacious as the merchant's son.

Her hands began to glow with the weight of the spell. Heat rose to bathe her face and she heard Talal's choked whimpering.

She looked to the boy, afraid she might be too late. Talal's panic-stricken eyes met her own, and Meisha realized he was afraid of the heat. He was choking to death, but he feared her magic more.

Meisha hesitated, then released the spell on a muttered curse. She drew a dagger from her boot. The ropey tentacle was too thick to slice in half, so she brought the steel down overhand into its soft flesh. The choker writhed, releasing its prey and scuttling back.

Talal collapsed on the ground, clutching his throat, and bats poured from a hollow in the upper corner of the chamber.

The light from the flame rope faltered as bats—not as large as the first two, but still impressive—filled the room. Meisha sank to her knees, her back throbbing from wielding the dagger. She felt warm moisture that was not sweat soaking through her jerkin.

Stupid, Meisha thought. She'd reopened her wound. The bats would love her now. Talal was still on the floor, half-hidden by a cloud of dark bodies. Meisha felt the rush of air from leathery wings stir her hair and clothing. Bites stabbed her flesh, a few at first, but gradually increasing as the bats narrowed their attacks. By some luck, the choker faired no better. The bats did not discriminate in their frenzied biting, and choker screams rang out, echoing Talal's frantic cries.

A bat hit Meisha from behind, pinning her on her stomach to get at the source of the blood. Frantically, she rolled, but her vision was all leather and claws. Meisha stabbed with the dagger, making a slit in the creature's wing. Slashing diagonally, she split the leather curtain in half and scrambled free.

She crawled to Talal and rolled the boy onto his stomach. Slapping the bats away, she lay flush against his back. Blood from a dozen bites soaked her as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Close your eyes and don't move," Meisha said against his ear. Without waiting for him to comply, she chanted a spell and prayed the pain wouldn't make her lose consciousness.

The flame column wavered and dropped, falling into itself like a water spike in a dying fountain. Plunging straight down, the fire emptied into Meisha's spine.

The Harper came up with a howl, her back arching. Flames burst from her wound, her eyes, and her mouth, smothering the bats in a blanket of charnel heat. She hoped her body was enough to protect Talal from the upward blast of flame. The oily scent of burning meat filled the air as bats rained around her.

Meisha came down on her back, gulping air that tasted foul but felt sweet on her lungs. Dizziness caused the cavern's ceiling to waver and bend, but at least there were no more bats.

She looked around for the choker and found it huddling out of range of the fire cloud, dangling from the stalactite where Braedrin's body had been. Lambent eyes watched them in the flickering light from the burning corpses.

It was weighing how much of a fight they had left to offer, Meisha thought.

Angrily, she flung out an arm, focusing on her tingling fingertips, gathering power until.. . there, just enough. A tongue of flame sparked from her finger, illuminating her nail with a purple glow. She followed that glow with her eyes as she traced a circle above her head and around Talal's shoulder, past their feet and back up, encasing them in a ring of power only Meisha could see.

"Trothliese!" she cried, and fire sprang up where her finger had traced. The ward would last, even if she lost consciousness, but if the choker got brave and crossed the flames or dropped down on top of them, they'd be dead. Meisha hoped the fire and the deep dagger wound would be enough to convince the creature not to risk it.

She lay back, letting the flames from the circle wash over her. Her eyes slid closed. She had no strength left.

She awoke sometime later as if from a fever dream. Sweat poured off her skin, yet she shivered with cold. The ward fire still burned.

"Are you spent?" asked Talal. He was sitting up, his knees drawn under his chin. He looked like a small, terrified boy.

Meisha angled her head to look at him. She smiled crookedly. "Hardly," she replied.

She looked beyond the ward, but the choker was gone. Braedrin's body lay outside the circle, nipped and chewed by the deep bats. His eyelids were gone, making the whites appear huge in his ravaged face.