blocks corpsetaker

Before I could finish the word, she made a rippling gesture with the shimmering fingers of her left hand.
There was a whirling sensation, and I was suddenly caught in a gale, a whirlwind that tried to carry me toward the girl. My feet started sliding across the floor. I leaned back with a cry, lifting my shield bracelet, and it blazed into a dome of solid blue light before me. It did nothing- nothing at all. The vicious vortex continued to draw me to her outstretched hand.
I started to panic, and then realized what was happening. There was no wind-not physically, anyway. The books on the shelves were not stirring, nor was my long leather duster. My shield offered me no protection from a wholly nonphysical threat, and I released it, saving my strength.
The hideous vacuum wasn't meant for my body. It was targeting my thoughts.
"That's right," Alicia said.
Holy crap. She'd heard me thinking.
"Of course, young man. Give me what I want now and I may leave you enough of your mind to feed yourself."
I gritted my teeth, marshaling my thoughts, my defenses.
"It's too late for that, boy."
Like hell it was. My thoughts coalesced into a unified whole, an absolute image of a wall of smooth, grey granite. I built the image of the wall in my mind and then filled it with the power I'd been holding at the ready. I felt a nauseating confusion for a second, and then the mental gale ceased as abruptly as it had begun.
Alicia's head jerked as if she'd been slapped across the cheek.
I glared at her, teeth gritted, and asked, "Is that all you got?"
Corpsetaker snarled out a spiteful curse, lifted her left arm, and twisted her fingers into a raking claw.
There was a hideous pressure against the image of the granite wall in my mind. It wasn't a single, resounding blow, as I had expected from my training, a kind of psychic battering ram. Instead it was an enormous, steady weight, as if a sudden tide had flooded in to wash the wall away completely.
I thought that pressure would ease in a moment, but it only became more and more difficult to bear. I struggled to hold the image of the wall in place, but despite everything I could do, dark and empty cracks began to appear and spread through it. My defenses were crumbling.
"Delicious," Corpsetaker said, and her voice didn't sound strained at all. "After a century, they're still teaching the young ones the same tripe."
I saw movement beyond Corpsetaker, and Li Xian appeared in the shattered plywood doorway. Half of his face was lumpy and purpled with bruising, and one shoulder had been smashed grossly out of shape. He was bleeding a thin, greenish-brown fluid, and moved as if in great pain, but he came in on his own power, and his eyes were alert.
"My lord," Xian said. "Are you well?"
"Perfectly," Corpsetaker purred. "Once I have his mind, the rest is yours."
His misshapen face twisted into a smile that spread too wide for human features. "Thank you, lord."
Holy crap. It was time to leave.
But my feet wouldn't move.
"You needn't bother, young wizard," Corpsetaker said. "If you take the attention you would need to free your feet, your wall will fail. Just open to me, boy. You will feel less pain."
I ignored the necromancer and tried to think of other options. My mental defenses were indeed crumbling, but any strength of will I spent to move my legs would collapse the defenses entirely. I had to get the pressure off of me for a moment-only time enough to distract Corpsetaker, to give me time to get the hell away. But given that I could barely move at all, my options were severely limited.
Part of the wall began to crumble. I felt Corpsetaker's will begin pouring in, the first trickle from a dark sea.


Dead Beat Chapter 17, Page 155-156