Dark Sun: Prism Pentad 2 - The Crimson Legion by Troy Denning Read Free Book Online

thick and oppressive,
     scalding Rikus's bare skin and searing his nose and lips with each cautious breath.
    Paying the heat no attention, K'kriq led the way up to the pilot's deck. As they climbed
     the ladder, Rikus heard the hiss of evaporating liquid and saw Gaanon throwing water from
     a large barrel as though it were a mere bucket. The half-giant's efforts were to little
     avail, for the fire had already burned through the back wall in numerous places, with
     yellow flames shooting between the planks in many more. Fortunately, the air on the deck
     was now clear, for any smoke drifting into the room was sucked back through the holes in
     the rear wall.
    “That's enough, Gaanon,” Rikus called. “Get your club.”
    The half-giant breathed a sigh of relief and smashed the water barrel, still half-filled,
     against the burning wall. Gaanon disappeared in the resulting cloud of steam, but his
     heavy footsteps let the mul know that the huge gladiator was moving toward the ladder.
    Rikus followed K'kriq to the pilot's chair. After pausing long enough to stomp on Phatim's
     half-charred body, the thri-kreen stood motionless and stared out over the mountainous
     shells of the mekillots. Fifty yards beyond the great reptiles was the Urikites' curtain
     of blackness.
    After the thri-kreen had concentrated for a moment, all four mekillots raised their
     shell-covered heads and started to lumber forward. The argosy lurched once, then settled
     into its familiar, swaying rhythm. The distance between the wagon and the Urikite wall
     closed quickly.
    When the black curtain showed no sign of adjusting to the advancing argosy, Rikus asked,
     “What's wrong with them? They can't just let us punch through their formation.”
    “Maybe they can't see us through the black wall,” suggested Neeva. “For all we know, there
     might not be anyone on the other side.”
    A brilliant flash of silver erupted from the wall, and Rikus decided she was wrong.
    “Magic!” the mul cried.
    K'kriq spun around, using two of his hands to grab each gladiator and pull them into the
     shelter of his carapace. In the same instant, the tintinnabulation of shattering glass
     crashed over the deck, drowning out even the thunder of the magical bolt that had
     demolished the window. Shards scraped along one of the mul's shoulders that had been left
     exposed, opening several long but shallow lacerations in his tough hide. Neeva escaped
     without injury.
    When the attack passed, Rikus stepped away from K'kriq. The mantis-warrior stood ankle
     deep in broken glass, but there was not even a scratch on his tough carapace.
    A pair of smoking red balls shot from the dark wall. Instead of streaking toward the
     pilot's deck, however, the flaming spheres sizzled straight at the lead mekillots. All
     four reptiles stopped in their tracks, retracting their beads as the crimson spheres hit.
     Great rivers of flame washed over their shells, then the earth rumbled and the argosy
     lurched to a stop as the great beasts dropped to the ground.
    The mekillots lay motionless as wisps of fire danced over their shells, but the mighty
     beasts did not seem to be either panicked or in pain. A moment later, after the flames had
     faded to smoke, they returned to their feet and jerked the argosy into motion again. This
     time, they trundled forward more rapidly, in the mekillots' equivalent of a charge.
     Without looking away from the animals, K'kriq pointed a single arm toward the back of the
     deck.
    “Go,” he said. “Bad place for soft-skins.”
    “What about you?” Rikus asked, taking Neeva and moving toward the back of the deck.
    In answer, the thri-kreen dropped to the floor and pulled his limbs beneath his carapace,
     leaving only his compound eyes visible.
    Neeva started down the ladder without another word. Behind her, Rikus took the time to
     glance out the front of the deck. The lead mekillots had reached the curtain of darkness.