The Cursed Crown

by Matthew S. Cox

  Beowyn stooped to grab Oona’s hand and hauled her into the air, tucking her under his left arm like an ordinary-sized man carrying a child. Rather than try to chop down the unending barrage of tomes, he weathered their strikes, showing little if any reaction to the pelting as he ran.

  Kitlyn reached the exit first. She opened the right side of the stone double doors and slipped through. Beowyn set Oona down, using his body as a shield while she ducked into the next room. After Isha darted past him, he jumped in and pulled the door closed.

  Books kept pounding against the stone, but lacked the power to do any damage.

  “Whew…” Oona backed up, staring at the doors. “We’re safe.”

  “Umm.” Kitlyn’s voice quivered. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  Isha sucked in a sharp breath.

  Oona turned her head, then the rest of her body to face the room behind her. Large tables on either side of the chamber held books, bottles, various body parts, and bowls of glowing substances. More shelves behind them contained an array of dusty objects.

  She ignored all of that.

  A throne at the opposite end of the room about fifty feet away held a figure in a billowing black robe with a large hood obscuring its features. Rotting semi-skeletal hands covered in bejeweled rings clasped the armrests.

  The figure raised its head, revealing a dusty skeletal face adorned with a thin golden crown. Eerie yellow energy glowed within otherwise empty eye sockets.

  Oona’s heart nearly stopped beating. She clutched the amulet of Lucen at her chest and focused on reinforcing her mind shield spell.

  “Lucen help us.”

  34

  Darkness, Light, and Stone

  Kitlyn

  Foggy thoughts circled Kitlyn’s mind. One moment, she gazed upon the lich as if she loved him more than anything. The next second, she wanted to scream and run. Oona’s soft whispering pushed into her consciousness, displacing both the overriding fear and the need to adore the undead creature.

  The same instant she realized her thoughts remained her own, Voldreth emitted a dark, growling hiss. He raised an arm as a billowy black breath blasted over his rotten teeth, coalescing into a cloud that gathered low to the ground in front of his seat.

  Kitlyn gathered a lump of stone from the floor, levitating it within a shroud of green light. After growing it to the size of a human head, she launched it at the lich. A shadowy arm reached out of the growing gloom, intercepting the stone, deflecting it off to the side. Another demon, somewhat smaller than the last, reached a second arm out from the hole that had formed in the floor, and started to pull itself up into the world.

  “Away!” shouted Oona. Her light brightened. “Lucen shall suffer not the presence of demons here!”

  Brilliant white light washed over Kitlyn from behind, disintegrating the demon back into wisping shadows. Voldreth snarled and thrust his arm out. The rattle of a heavy chain preceded a strangled gurgle. Kitlyn whirled around.

  Oona dangled off the floor, suspended by a chain around her neck that had burst out from the ceiling. Squarish spiky links of black metal radiated demonic energy. Beowyn ran to her, tall enough to reach her neck and grab the constricting chain. Kitlyn focused on the ceiling, liquefying the stone where the metal links emerged, but it didn’t help—the chain came straight down from… nowhere.

  The light orb flickered, and the chain burst into shadows, dropping Oona onto all fours, coughing and gagging. She looked up with more anger than fear in her eyes, raised her arms, and projected a wide bolt of blue light. The beam hit the lich like a punch to the chest, but didn’t appear to have much effect other than blasting dust off his robes.

  Isha charged. Voldreth leapt from his throne, unfurling a black skull-headed flail. He swung it in an upward arc to block; her blade bounced off the spiked metal skull with a flash of pale yellow light. The magical burst nearly threw her sword from her grip. Isha staggered, pulled by the force with which her weapon ricocheted off the flail. The lich drifted after her, swinging in a downward arc. Isha let herself fall, avoiding the attack while somersaulting backward onto her feet.

  Oona coughed again and stood. She raised her hands as if preparing to do something… but waited.

  The lich isn’t a demon. Her magic isn’t that strong against people… or skeletons.

  Kitlyn shoved her arm out, calling a rock spire from the ground behind the lich. Her stone lance slammed into him with a crunch, flinging the undead mage clear across the room. The lich slapped chest first into the wall above the tall bookshelves with a clatter like a bundle of broomsticks. He fell on the shelves, bounced off, and crashed flat on his back atop the giant tables, knocking numerous bottles to the ground where they exploded in flashes of violet, red, or green light.

  Beowyn roared and raced at him. Another chain shot out of the ceiling and wrapped around the big man’s head, pulling him up on tiptoe. He stopped short, blood dribbling down his cheeks from the spikes. Oona pointed a hand at him while Isha ran at the lich. Voldreth grabbed a bottle from the table and hurled it at the charging soldier. She instinctively swung her sword at it. Fearing disaster, Kitlyn called to the stone under the woman’s feet and dragged it to the side, pulling Isha off balance. She fell on her butt, her defensive slash at the flying bottle going wild, missing. The bottle sailed past her and exploded on impact with the wall, setting off a fireball that spanned the height of the room.

  Kitlyn shielded her face from the blast of greasy, sulfurous smoke and painfully hot air. Somewhere on the other side of the haze, Beowyn snarled. Loose chain links clattered to the stony floor. The lich glared at Kitlyn, the yellow energy in his eye sockets brightening with anger. Two swirling portals of violet and black appeared in midair on either side of her. Ink-black arms with clawed hands reached out. She tried to leap back, but the hot, leathery hands seized her by the wrists, receding into their portals until she dangled from her arms, feet off the ground.

  Tenebrea’s tits! Kitlyn stared at the approaching lich, straining to stretch her legs and touch the floor. He knows… Boots interfered with her connection to the earth, but being held completely off the ground probably broke it entirely. She pointed her right leg at him, trying to call a stone, but managed only to raise a pebble like the ones she amused Pim with. It bounced off the lich’s skull with a hollow clonk.

  Voldreth didn’t appear impressed. He stepped closer, raising his skull-headed flail. Beowyn rushed to get in the lich’s way, swinging his greatsword in a wild sideways arc. The lich snapped his flail into the sword’s path. Both weapons bounced off each other with a yellow flash and loud bang. Beowyn grunted, knocked back on one leg, though he held his ground. Voldreth swung at him, but the surprisingly agile big man leaned out of the way, twisting himself to pull his blade into the lich’s side, a weak swing with his hands close to his body. Hissing, Voldreth took a step from the force of the blow. Beowyn continued the twist into a spin and a follow-up swing at full force. The giant sword smacked into the undead’s chest with a dull thud, knocking Voldreth a few steps away from Kitlyn.

  She kicked her legs at the air, grunting, but couldn’t escape the demonic grip around her wrists.

  Isha grabbed a bottle of glowing blue liquid from the table and threw it at the lich. Voldreth pivoted and caught it with his free left hand, then threw it back at her. Isha dove for cover a second before a blast of ice covered the floor and wall. The racing blue stain passed under Beowyn’s feet. His boots shot out from under him and he landed flat on his back, wheezing.

  Kitlyn gasped in pain, staring up at the evil limbs emerging from swirling portals. Any second now, she expected they would pull her arms straight out of her shoulder sockets.

  Strong white light washed over her. Oona stepped out of the fireball smoke, glaring in her direction. The orb cradled in her hands radiated an intense—and warm—light that blasted the demonic arms away to smoke.

  Kitlyn dropped. The instant her feet touched stone, a tingle of energy rode u
p her legs into her chest. Grinning, she gathered a melon-sized rock from the floor, scooping it up like clay. Enraged, the lich whirled on Oona, grabbing at empty air with his left hand.

  A thick book leapt off a stand on the largest table, flying into Oona’s head from behind. She let out a clipped squeak and collapsed unconscious. Kitlyn launched the huge stone at the lich, a comet wrapped in emerald light. Distracted by Oona, Voldreth twisted his skull toward Kitlyn a mere second before the big stone smashed into his chest. It ripped clear through him, pulling bits of robe out behind it, a spray of bone chips flying.

  Voldreth glanced down at the near-perfect hole in his body, then looked back at her like an affronted nobleman after a carless servant girl spilled wine on his shirt. Kitlyn’s blood chilled. He tilted his head, gazing at her.

  The walls blurred. Beowyn and Isha pulled themselves back to their feet but stood as still as statues, staring at the lich. She couldn’t quite recall what Voldreth was or why she came here. After a moment, she remembered that the unconscious blonde girl sprawled out on the floor had to die. That girl had done something to make Master Voldreth furious, and he needed Kitlyn to make sure that awful girl never did anything like that again.

  Kitlyn drew her longsword, smiling at the wicked sharp edge. Stabbing the girl in the chest would be too fast. She should cut off her hands first, then the rest of her arms. Maybe an ear or two… then ram the blade straight into her heart.

  She padded over to the limp form, put her bare foot against the girl’s shoulder, and kicked her over onto her back, her arms flopping limp. Long, beautiful blonde spilled out like liquid, framing a pale, angelic face. Kitlyn grinned with delight that Master Voldreth would be so happy with her, and crouched to rest the edge of her blade over the girl’s delicate wrist.

  Something felt wrong.

  No. She wouldn’t cut the girl’s hand off. That would probably cause enough pain to wake her up and she’d do more of that nasty light magic that ruined the master’s demons. Master Voldreth folded his arms, flail dangling from his right hand. He gave her a nod of approval. Beowyn and Isha stood as blank as zombies, gazing into nowhere.

  Kitlyn got to her feet and pointed her sword at Oona’s throat, about to thrust it in.

  Something still felt wrong.

  She repositioned the tip over the girl’s heart.

  Master Voldreth wanted her dead.

  Kitlyn clenched her jaw and tensed her arm, but the tip of the sword shook. It took her a second to realize the shaking came from her hand, as if her body refused to obey her. Again, she rested the tip of her blade at Oona’s heart. Something still didn’t feel right about doing that. Why couldn’t she kill this girl? She looked up at Master Voldreth in confusion.

  “Where should I—?”

  “Kit,” muttered Oona.

  She looked down. Oh, no. She’s awake. Master Voldreth is going to be—

  Oona’s eyes bulged as she stared up the length of the blade hovering at her heart. Blue light flashed in Kitlyn’s vision.

  Why am I pointing my sword at Oona? She jumped back with a gasp, horrified.

  “He’s in your thoughts!” shouted Oona.

  Voldreth hissed. A leathery hand came out of nowhere and closed around Kitlyn’s right ankle before yanking her off her feet. She twisted back, screamed in anger, and hacked at the ebon limb emerging from a swirling portal. One swipe of her longsword blade severed it at the wrist. Cringing in disgust, she kicked at the air until the disembodied hand went flying.

  Oona scrambled to her feet.

  Beowyn and Isha turned toward her, raising their blades. The instant they began to charge at her, Kitlyn created a waving ripple in the floor that knocked them both flat on their fronts. Oona started to concentrate on the two soldiers, but another portal hand reached out and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her up on tiptoe, screaming in pain.

  Kitlyn jumped at her, slashing the hand loose from the arm. Oona landed flat on her feet and stumbled backward. The severed hand tumbled out of her hair, disintegrating to smoke before striking the floor. Demon claws sank into Kitlyn’s shoulders. Another pair of disembodied portal-arms pulled her off the ground.

  Voldreth—and the two possessed soldiers—approached Oona.

  Kitlyn leaned her head to the right, trying to saw at the clawed hand embedded in her shoulder. Oona turned her light on them, and the arms disintegrated. Kitlyn dropped back to the floor, cringing from the pain in her shoulders. Beowyn bellowed and swung his greatsword to take Oona’s head off.

  “Stop!” shouted Kitlyn, raising a narrow earthen lance straight up from the ground in front of her wife.

  Steel rang against stone, the massive sword severing the top few feet of it, but the pillar stopped the strike from reaching Oona. Kit knocked Isha over with another ripple in the ground. Oona backpedaled, one hand clutching her Lucen amulet, the other pointed at Beowyn.

  The big man blinked a few times and the lifeless look left his eyes. Isha leapt upright and ran for Oona, but Beowyn knocked her blade aside and swept her up in his arms, holding her off the ground in a bear hug.

  Voldreth glowered and grabbed at the air as if pulling something toward him.

  Oona gasped, wide-eyed at the familiar gesture. She ducked an instant before another flying book could knock her out. It sailed over her head and slapped into Beowyn’s chest before flopping to the floor.

  Kitlyn raked her hand at the air, separating a large piece of ceiling from the rock around it. The several-hundred-pound chunk crashed straight down on top of Voldreth, the boom of it landing so loud it masked the crunch of bones. A blast of white vapor raced away in all directions, causing every bit of glassware on both tables to explode in a dazzling cascade of fire, ice, lightning, and black vapor. In seconds, the reek of burned, decaying flesh filled the air.

  Isha stopped struggling.

  Thin wisps of eerie white vapor continued exuding out from under the slab.

  Kitlyn gasped for breath, staring at the hunk of ceiling.

  “Well, that’s one way to kill a lich.” Beowyn chuckled.

  What did I almost do…? The longsword fell from her hand with a clank. She turned toward Oona, lip quivering, about to burst into tears.

  Oona ran to her, grabbing on in a tight embrace. “The lich took over your mind. My spell stopped working when it knocked me out.” Golden light flickered on the walls from somewhere behind her and the stinging pain in her shoulders lessened to a dull soreness. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I almost… almost…” Kitlyn sniffled into her shoulder.

  “You didn’t. The sorcerer wanted you to, but you didn’t. You couldn’t.” Oona leaned back out of the hug far enough to kiss her on the lips. “The part of you that remained you fought back.”

  “I love you so much, I couldn’t bear to lose you… or even hurt you.” Kitlyn rocked her side to side.

  “Please stop crying. There’s nothing to be sad about.” Oona smiled, her eyes sparkling blue. “No magic exists dark enough to break how much I love you.”

  Beowyn glanced away, wiping a tear.

  Kitlyn breathed deep a few times, collecting herself. “That was so scary. All I wanted to do was make him happy.”

  “It’s mind control.” Oona shot a dirty look at the giant rock. “Oh, by Lucen… I hope he wasn’t wearing the Nimse’s crown.”

  35

  Unraveling

  Oona

  Isha approached. Hundreds of pieces of broken glass stuck out of her cheek.

  “Oh… ouch.” Oona cringed and guided her to sit on one of the tables. “This is going to be uncomfortable.”

  “Can’t hurt more than it did going in.” Isha clenched her jaw.

  While Kitlyn and Beowyn rummaged around the room, Oona plucked glass from Isha piece by piece. The woman never once flinched.

  “Don’t touch it,” said Beowyn several minutes later. “I’m about as magical as a lump of rock and even I can feel something ain’t right with that thin
g.”

  Kitlyn sighed. “I know.”

  After plucking the last piece of glass, Oona held her hand over Isha’s bleeding face. Orien’s cleansing light enshrouded her fingers and all the tiny cuts closed.

  “One of the innkeeps I talked to said he heard liches can’t be killed.” Isha pulled a rag of scrap cloth from a satchel and wiped at her face. “Something about they’ll eventually get back up. Destroy the body but the umm… animating force or something goes off to the Netherworld to get power, then comes back and repairs the body.”

  “How long does that take?” Kitlyn walked over, rubbing at her shoulder.

  “Not sure, highness.” Isha shrugged. “He didn’t say. Could be hours, days, years…”

  “Well…” Beowyn kicked the giant rock. “We’ll be long gone by then.”

  Kitlyn faced the slab. “Lucernia is facing enough problems at the moment. We don’t need an ancient lich wanting revenge. Can we burn it?”

  “Destroying the bones might work, but it could always find a different body.” Beowyn pressed against the slab, unable to budge it. “That is a robust stone.”

  A sudden inspiration came to Oona. She walked over to the huge chunk of ceiling. “Kit, can you please move this?”

  “All right.” Kitlyn bowed her head in concentration. Seconds later, green light swam around her arms.

  Four stone shafts rose out of the ground, lifting the enormous rock off the pulverized remains of the lich. Only a bit of jawbone, a few teeth, and some pieces of skull remained recognizable as bones, the rest had been reduced to dust. An ooze of fetid, rotting flesh had squeezed out from rips in the robe.

  “Kinda looks like a jelly-filled sweet bread someone stepped on.” Beowyn chuckled.

  Isha gagged.

  The broken mass of rock rose on the lifting shafts until it settled into the opening from which it had fallen. Dozens of cracks around it unwound as if breaking in reverse. After a moment, the ceiling appeared as though it had never come apart. Kitlyn lowered the four spires into the floor.