Free The Rite by Richard Lee Byers

getting cold.” The wrinkled, white-bearded mage turned to Taegan and Jivex and said, “When we finish here, we can go to my study and decide on an errand for you. Since you can
    Taegan interrupted the old man by lurching forward and coughing into his napkin, and kept on hacking until Firefingers and Rilitar were peering at him with concern.
    “Are you all right?” Firefingers asked.
    “Yes,” Taegan wheezed, dabbing at his eyes. “Well, no, not entirely. When Jivex and I fought green dragons in Impiltur, I inhaled a bit of their poison. My lungs haven’t been the same since, and I fear the smoke and cinders I breathed in yesterday damaged them still further. In all candor, I doubt I’m fit enough to continue my travels at present. May I please avail myself of your hospitality for a few more days?”
    25 Mirtul. the Year of Rogue Dragons
    Lying on his belly, Will peered down at the ogres shambling along the bottom of the ravine. Some of them glanced up from time to time, but didn’t see him. The gorge was too deep, and he was too adept at hiding.
    Still, shadowing giantkin through unfamiliar territory was demanding, nerve-wracking work, and particularly unpleasant when one couldn’t see a point to it. As Will mounted his pony and rode back to the spot where Pavel waited, he could feel his patience fraying thin.
    “Did you get lost?” Pavel asked in a nasty tone. The lanky cleric stood holding his roan horse in a stand of gnarled, stunted trees. His days in Thar had given a haggard edge to his keen, handsome features. The hem of his cloak and stray strands of his hair stirred in the chilly, fitful breeze.
    “Nice,” said Will. “You loaf up here while I do the work, but naturally, it doesn’t stop you griping.”
    “I wasn’t complaining that you took your time,” said the priest. “I was honestly worried about you. The feebleminded can come to grief when they go off by themselves.”
    “You’d know, I suppose,” Will replied. “Your ogres are headed down a gully. We can parallel their track by keeping to the high ground. if you, in your idiocy, still think it’s worth doing.”
    “That rat pellet you call a brain hasn’t squeezed out any better ideas.” As if he’d suddenly glimpsed something from the corner of his eye, Pavel pivoted and peered upward. “Get under cover!”
    Will leaped off the pony, and he and the priest dragged their mounts into the center of the twisted trees. It was difficult. The low-hanging branches swiped and jabbed at the animals, who tried to balk.
    It was only when he’d concealed himself and the pony as well as possible that Will took the time to look for whatever Pavel had spotted. After a second, he saw it too, a serpentine, bat-winged shape wheeling against the leaden, overcast sky.
    The wyrm was azure. Blues were desert-dwellers, and Will had never encountered one before. He wondered if, maddened by the Rage, the reptile had wandered all the way from far Anauroch in search of prey.
    Wherever it had come from, he wished it hadn’t.
    “These trees are miserable cover,” he whispered. The branches above them had begun to put forth new leaves, but not in any great profusion. “Can you do something?”
    “I could try,” Pavel said, “but a patch of fog suddenly billowing into existence might catch the creature’s attention all by itself. We’re better off just crouching low and keeping quiet.”
    He gripped his sun amulet, murmured a prayer, and the world hushed, though Will could still feel his heart pounding in his chest.
    Finally, inevitably, the moment he dreaded arrived. The blue swooped lower . but not at them. It had spotted the ogres instead, and was making a pass over the ravine. Will heaved a sigh of relief.
    Somewhat to the halfling’s surprise, the blue didn’t attack at once. Rather, it climbed high into the sky again, then circled. The gray clouds started changing, massing into looming shapes like anvils. Light flickered in their bellies. The