Another hand was reaching through the stone beside the first. The blur above and between them was growing into a narrow reptilian face.
“Get out!” the caravan master shouted again when a glance toward the ladder showed him that Khamwas stood where he had. He had crossed the top of his staff with his left forearm.
“No, run!” Khamwas replied. He had been chanting under his breath, and his face spasmed with the effort of breaking back into normal speech. “I released it again, but I can hold it for long enough.”
The demon’s head and torso had emerged from the wall. One leg was striding forward in slow motion. The creature was half again as tall as Samlor, and it was thinner than anything could be and live.
One hand shot out and snatched the sea urchin which shattered be- neath the claws into a cascade of mauve sparks. As the demon’s arm withdrew, the sparks formed again into their original shape. The creature of light continued to pick its way through the air. Samlor was quite sure that if the claws closed on his niece, their effect vould be permanent.
“Run. Star!” he shouted, afraid to turn from the demon. It continued to pull itself from the stone.
Khamwas hadn’t moved, though his mouth resumed its unheard chanting. Maybe Samlor could jump for the ladder himself since the fool Napatan refused to do so. Slam the lid back over this hellish room-if the lid would close without a search for another mechanism. Run out the front door with Star in his arms, praying that he could work the bolts swiftly enough . . . praying that the doorkeeper would ignore them as they left, the way Khamwas had said it would . . .