But Baruk heard a grunt behind him, then Vorcan gasped. The hilt of a dagger protruded from the assassin's chest. Frowning, she reached for it, then pulled it out and tossed it aside.
“All:” the alchemist heard the Tiste And? woman gasp from the floor behind him “: all I can do. My apologies, Lord.”
Derudan appeared behind Vorcan. As she raised her hands and began an incantation, Vorcan whirled and something sped from her hand. The witch grunted, then crumpled.
Anguish flooded Baruk. With a wordless roar he launched himself at Vorcan. She laughed and ducked to one side, throwing out her glowing hand. The alchemist twisted, off-balance, narrowly avoiding the killing touch, then staggered past. He heard her laughter again, as she moved in. A dozen feet in front of Baruk was the door. The alchemist's eyes widened to find it open. A youth crouched there, holding bricks. Expecting at any moment to feel Vorcan's touch, Baruk threw himself forward. He saw the boy straighten at the same time and thrust forward first his right arm, then his left. As the alchemist fell towards the floor, two bricks flew over him. He heard them strike the woman behind him, one making a crunching sound, the other crackling. A flash of red. As he struck the floor, the breath was hammered from Baruk's lungs.
Agonized seconds passed as he struggled to draw air into his tortured chest He rolled on to his back. Vorcan, he saw, lay motionless almost against his feet. The boy's face came into view, streaked with sweat, brow e boy sighed, then grinned. “You're alive. Good. Rallick sent me to. Baruk sat up. “The witch,” he said hoarsely. He pointed. “Tend to her, He felt his strength returning as he watched the boy crouch beside her. “She's breathing,” Crokus announced. “There's some kind of knife in her looks like it's covered in paralt.” He reached down to touch it.
“Poison,” the alchemist said, climbing to his feet. “Help me to her, quickly.” A moment later he knelt beside Derudan. A quick glance at the sap-like substance coating the blade confirmed his suspicion. While Baruk laid a hand on Derudan. “Your knowledge surprises me, boy,” he said. “Fortunately, she's in the home of the one man who possesses its antidote.” He muttered something and a phial appeared in his hand “Rallick said there was no antidote to white paralt.”
“It's not something I'm likely to announce.” Baruk unstoppered the phial and poured the contents down the witch's throat, triggering coughing fit. As Derudan's breathing became even, Baruk leaned back and eyed Crokus. “You seem well acquainted with Rallick. What's your name?”
“Crokus. Mammot was my uncle, sir. I saw him die.”
Derudan's eyelids flickered, then opened. She smiled lazily. “What I see pleases me,” she said weakly. “Yes?”