Pulling a fang out of a column, Trinity examines the warm tooth while she walks toward the exit. “There’s no time for detours and delays. We go through the door and fight our way out of Ashkeep. I don’t want to hurt those people, but they’re not going to give us a choice. Their loyalty to the Baron is without question, which makes them enemies. Still, try not to kill anybody because that could make things worse. Last thing I want is having an entire city chasing us all the way to Gaia.”
Following the channeler, the small group weaves through the destruction and tries to avoid stepping in the gore. The only clean path forces them to cross the chamber and come within a few feet of the dragon head, which slides back as it starts to fall. With the grinding of teeth against stone, the skull slips off the edge and disappears from view. The startled travelers refuse to move until they hear a distant thud and the tower shakes from the impact. Rushing up the stairs, Trinity hurls a blast of wind that bashes in the sideways door and reveals the basement of Ashkeep. Seeing that Quail is bounding ahead of the group with one-legged vaults, she whistles and tosses the bag of crests to the mapper. She nods for him to dive through the doorway and is about to follow when she hears footsteps going in the wrong direction.
“Go in and I’ll be right behind you!” Altia shouts as she runs across the stairs. She comes to Vile’s crushed body, which is sitting in the deep imprint of a clawed foot. “We need to take Vile back and try to revive him. At least we can make sure he’s fou-”
Altia’s voice stops abruptly when a dragon’s head lunges between the columns and bites off her arm. The elf collapses as Trinity creates a protective dome around her and reels the injured woman to safety. Trembling in pain, she manages to draw her whip and delivers a fire spell to her own body, which stops the bleeding. Her eyes are locked on the emerging beasts that remain outside until the dark red dragon swings its powerful neck. The top half of the building is sent tumbling to the ground, the clearer view showing that the creatures have been changed. Their heads and necks have been attached to a massive body that is a freakish combination of all three guardians. Climbing further into the exposed chamber, the monster exposes more of its form and reveals that parts of it are rotting. Pus-seeping scars run between the pieces while the softer scales fall to the floor.
“Not the best body, but I had very little time after I escaped that horrible toy,” a familiar voice declares with a laugh. Attempting a blast of fire, the creature coughs and gurgles until a smoking stone falls out of its nostril. “Oh well, this is only temporary. I’m sure there’s a decent host back in Ashkeep and then I can mold it back into my old self. No rush since I’d rather return after my father is defeated.”
“What are you doing here, Stephen?” Trinity asks, her mind yelling for her to run. With a scream of rage, she hurls a javelin of lightning that bounces off the central skull. “I thought Nyx killed you, but I shouldn’t be surprised that a monster like you found a way back. What did you do with Vile?”
“Cute that you think the old General was ever with you to begin with,” the madman replies from the ivory dragon’s head. Stretching his stitched together wings, he knocks down more of the tower. “The worm is as inept and clueless as ever. He never noticed me replacing Vile at the last moment and masquerading as him. I’ve been by your side and waiting for a chance to escape this whole time. To this end, I found a spell in Gar’s Library and memorized it before we left. All I needed after that was something I knew could crush a being as powerful as you. I’m happy to let that pathetic mapper go and help with my father’s downfall, but the rest of you are to be my first decent meal in what feels like eternity. Now, I want what’s left of that sweet, delicious elf wench.”
“Get Altia out of here and go help Quail with the crests,” Nimby whispers while stepping away from Trinity. He hurls a dagger at Stephen’s eye, which bursts from the impact and oozes into a puddle. “Besides, this is our mistake, so we have to fix it. Don’t try to argue, your highness, because you don’t know what’s happening on the other side of that door. Trust us to handle this whether it gets us killed or not. Stop gawking at the patchwork dragon and get through that door, Trinity!”
Stirred by Nimby’s stern shouting, the channeler hurls a glowing orb that explodes into a blast of blinding light. The trio of roars from Stephen shakes the tower as he rears back and flails at where he thinks his enemies are standing. With the monster stunned, Trinity picks up Altia and rushes through the portal, which shimmers for a second. It is not long after her disappearance that the revived immortal regains his sight and angrily swings his three tails to knock over the rest of the columns. A clawed foot tries to stomp on the door, but the broken frame retains enough of its shape to keep the escape route open. Robbed of his desired prey, Stephen looks for Nimby who has vanished among the fallen rock.
A searing pain runs up the monster’s back leg as the halfling attacks and scrambles up the large creature’s back. The dragon flaps its wings and starts to leave the ground, but an enchanted shortsword spins through to air to leave a gash in the veiny leather. The hastily enchanted weapon circles back to slash across Stephen’s side and fly toward Nimby’s hand. Unable to move until the blade is back, the thief cannot immediately dodge the rotting jaws that stretch for him. The instant he has his weapon, he leaps to avoid his legs getting bitten off and kicks as he comes down to dislodge one of the sharp teeth. Rolling out of his enemy’s mouth, the halfling slides to the ground and sprints for the door. He skids to a stop when one of Stephen’s tails slams into his path and another lands a few feet behind him. Looking up, Nimby watches the third tail coming down and realizes that there is no way for him to escape.
“That’s enough of that,” the Lich declares as he takes over their body. Eyes glowing red, the necrocaster raises a hand and casts the tail aside with a flick of his hand. “Tricks and lies. Tricks and lies. All we know are tricks and lies. Isn’t that right, little warlord?”
“What did you do?” Stephen asks before attempting another attack. His teeth fall out as his golden head misses his target by several feet. “Keep toying with me, worm, and I’ll make your suffering last for eternity. Enjoy your advantage for the next few minutes. Once I’m more in synch with this body, I’ll devour every scrap of you.”
“Interesting choice of words,” the Lich casually says, his boney hand touching the dark red tail. The scales pop along the rotting flesh, which sloughs off the main body and melts into a foul puddle. “You never wondered what drew you to Vile at such a perfect time? A voice telling you that freedom was within your grasp, right? Odd that I chose my own figurine for Vile instead of one of his son, which would have suited him much better. We never had a true problem with each other, so why would I embarrass him? Let’s also consider the strangeness of you finding a spell in that library. It was perfect for putting you in a body that is nothing more than a puppet for a necrocaster like me.”
A sputtering of spit and smoking rocks fly from all three mouths as Stephen exclaims, “You . . . You tricked me! Why would you bring me back?”
“As long as you exist on any plane, my master is in danger.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You are a threat to the Baron and, more importantly, you removed me from the game.”
“You were a useless pawn who couldn’t kill a bumbling child!”
“I am the most loyal agent of Baron Arthuru Kernaghan and you made him turn against me.”
“If you think you can get your revenge then give me your best shot,” Stephen growls while rearing back with all of his heads. He spouts flames from his noses, but the blasts never come close to his enemy. “It doesn’t matter if you win here. Know that I will be waiting for you on the other side. This foolish revival and destruction will only seal your own fate. One day we will be reunited and I will get my own revenge.”
The Lich’s body creaks and stretches while a black robe appears around him, the necrocaster taking on his preferred form. With a bellowing s
pell and three loud claps of his hands, he undoes Stephen’s patchwork body. The parts rot in a circle around the exposed spirit, who charges forward to deliver a punch to his grinning enemy. It is an attack that never lands as the Lich lunges forward and greedily bites the entire limb off. Fear locks the bodiless man in place and he stares at how his legs shake for the first time in his existence. Unable to remain standing, Stephen falls to his knees and takes a more solid form with the black hair and sapphire eyes he had when alive. All attempts to move fail and he wonders if the terror gripping his mind is genuine or another of the necrocaster’s spells. He watches the deep shadow moving over him an instant before the Lich swallows him whole.
“No, you won’t, little warlord. You have ceased to be.”
16
Trinity clenches her jaws to avoid screaming as she is yanked out of the narrow space between portals. She can feel Altia shuddering in her arms until they land in the council chamber, the barely breathing elf suddenly going limp. With her head swimming in a mental fog, the channeler has trouble focusing on the armored soldiers surrounding her. She can make out the tips of the spears, but everything beyond them are hazy blurs unless she squints and risks a headache. It takes a minute for her to recover enough of her senses to locate Quail, who is chained and on his knees. The battered mapper is staring at Altia, his face a mix of rage and fear that is not enough to help him break the bonds. Every attempt is met by a solid kick to the chin or ear, both spots seeping blood from multiple strikes. Stepping through the crowd, Mora swings the bag of crests at her side before dangling it in front of Trinity. The fireskin licks her lips and teasingly bops the channeler on the nose with the small sack. Getting no reaction, the councilwoman sighs and goes to stand next to Quail, her large hand gripping the chaos elf by the head. Mora taps her claws on the prisoner’s face, making sure not to break his skin or poke him in the eye.
“Heal Altia, give Quail the crests, and I’ll surrender willingly,” Trinity announces as she gets to her feet. Distant shouts are carried through the window, her name clearly heard among the echoing sounds. “Those are my conditions, which benefit you. The only thing you will have to worry about is keeping me away from Yola. No reward if I’m eaten, so it’s in your best interest not to let her near me.”
“She got bored and left about ten minutes after you went into the basement,” Mora says, her fingers running through Quail’s ragged hair. Hoisting the mapper up to his feet, she drags him across the floor and tosses him into the circle. “You aren’t in a position to negotiate, but I will consider one of your requests. The crests are going to stay with me for a bit. They are a threat to our dear Baron, so they will be destroyed before nightfall. As far as this young woman, I will save her if she pledges her loyalty to our master.”
“That bastard only ate my arm. I’ll be fine in a bit,” Altia groans as she rolls out of Trinity’s hands. She flops onto the floor and struggles to get to her knees, but her remaining limbs keep shaking. “The blood loss might be an issue. How about you give me a healing potion and I won’t unleash my true power? You have to be wondering why Stephen Kernaghan, who is back from the dead, decided to attack me instead of the others. After all, he has a grudge against the others, except for Quail who isn’t a threat. Your master’s son knew I’d be the real danger, but he was too weak to finish the job. So, do you really want to anger me?”
Mora spins around to knock Altia away with her tail, the injured elf crashing into two of the knights. “Very terrifying. Just stay there and die because now I refuse to accept any of the traitor’s requests. Fight us if you want, but there is an entire city out for your head. We will claim the bounty unless you stop pretending to be a hero and kill us all. You’ve come too far to go back to the shadows, Queen Trinity, so your only real choice is to surrender. If not for yourself than to make sure your friends die without suffering.”
The snapping of chains draws everyone’s attention to Quail, who grabs the nearest spear and awkwardly hurls the knight across the room. Mora holds up her hand to stop the other warriors from attacking, the fireskin seeing that the young man is merely trying to reach Altia. Without his crutch, the mapper makes a single jump and lands next to the smiling elf. Annoyed that one of the knights is looming over them, Quail shoves him away and sends the man crashing through the central table. Two more enemies attempt to restrain him, but they are lifted off the floor when he stands and bangs them together. Facing Mora, the stone-faced chaos elf cracks his knuckles and waits to see what she will do. When the councilwoman lifts her pronged staff to attack, Quail lunges forward to take the weapon and drives it deep into the floor. Satisfied that they will be left alone, he goes back to Altia and gingerly takes her into his arms.
“This should help you heal,” Quail whispers while trying to put the Troll Ring on the red-haired elf’s finger.
“You need it more than me,” Altia replies with a smile. She refuses to open her fist and leans up to give her protector a kiss. “I said I’ll be fine. My legs are still attached, so I can walk and kick. My whip only requires one arm anyway, which means the other was nothing more than a spare. I will miss playing the harp, but I wasn’t very good at that anyway. Can we get going, Trinity, because I’m not having fun here?”
“I’d like to leave peacefully,” the channeler admits, her eyes glowing green. The spears nearest to her ignite and turn to ashes, leaving the startled knights defenseless. “It seems neither of us will get what we want, Madam Mora. All I will say is that you should consider the future of Ashkeep. Whether the Baron wins or loses, your people will be returned to Windemere and have to find a niche. Arthuru will claim Gaia as his capital and he won’t give up Shayd or the Chaos Void to make room for you. What do you think will happen here?”
The fireskin laughs and frees her staff from the floor, pausing briefly to frown at the chunk of carpeting stuck to her weapon. “We don’t care if Baron Kernaghan accepts us as a holy city or not. All we want is to be a part of his kingdom. Make us the slums for all we care as long as we are acknowledged. The rest of the world will be against him, but we shall be the ones who enforce his laws. Every ruler needs a loyal army and we have been preparing for the honor since he was stolen from us. Tear this city down for all we care. The people of Ashkeep can always rebuild or move to be closer to his glory.”
The outer wall of the room explodes and falls away, revealing plumes of smoke rising from the city. No longer chanting for Trinity, the citizens are screaming and yelling for the soldiers to save them from invaders. As the bats flee into the distance, a swarm of ivory orbs slams into the building and sends more of it crashing to the ground. Another rumble shakes the Founder Complex, which is heating up from below. The central glass barrier shatters as a wave of fire rockets through the teleportation shaft, the spells inside bursting into sparks. Pieces of the floor give way beneath some of the knights who fall onto the weakened lower levels. Their heavy armor is too much for the damaged stone to support and they continue to plummet toward the basement. Wanting to protect the city, all of the remaining warriors rush into the stairwell that is immediately engulfed in an ice spell that stops at the doorway. With a groan, the entire side of the Founder Complex collapses and the part left standing begins to fall apart.
Taking advantage of her enemy’s confusion, Trinity rushes Madam Mora and steals the crests. Skidding to a stop, she nearly falls off the crumbling edge before turning around to face the fireskin. Opening her mouth to speak, the channeler stops when she sees that Quail has collapsed on top of Altia. Fearing that they were killed in the chaos, Trinity knocks Mora out of the Founder Complex with a giant fist of wind. She takes half a second to watch the councilwoman sail over Ashkeep before rushing to her friends. A distant explosion makes her think the fireskin has landed, but she knows it could be another part of the attack. Checking Quail, she finds that he used his body to shield Altia and two large shards of glass are in his back. Blood is seeping out of the wounds and the chaos elf is no longer cons
cious due to the sudden shock. Easing the mapper onto his stomach, Trinity tries to carefully remove the glass, but stops when it looks like she is doing more damage.
“I know how to save him,” Altia says as she draws her whip. She strikes Quail on the back of his legs, which causes the chaos elf to disappear in a blink of light. “A priest used that on me once. It’s a spell that sends mortally injured people to a place they can get help. All I had to do was think of a location or people who would accept him. Quail is already with the other free chaos elves. Before you ask, I can’t cast it on myself and I’m not leaving you here.”
“Pretty sure I should be saying that,” Trinity replies, taking Altia by the arm. Leading the elf to the edge of the building, she looks down at the chaos. “I don’t know if the attackers are enemies or friends and we shouldn’t waste time figuring it out. I’m going to fly us out of here, but it won’t be a smooth trip. There’s a lot of magical turbulence in the area, which is giving me trouble. Almost like somebody is trying to scramble my aura, but I don’t think I’m the real target.”
Trinity steps off the building and attempts a wind spell, which backfires and launches the women back into the room. They roll toward the shaft, which is still spitting tiny streams of fire into the sky. A powerful gale rips off the top of the building and shoves the pair closer to a hole in the floor that is surrounded by a layer of broken glass. They can feel their skin get cut and do their best to protect their faces from the shards. Realizing that they are going over, Trinity tightens her grip on Altia and prepares to grab the edge. Her blood-covered fingers slip and they plummet toward the basement, which is covered in black smoke. They can barely make out the destruction of the other floors, each one seeming to have been destroyed by a different type of spell. Reaching out to the enchantments for power, Trinity tries to stop their descent, but she only manages to slow them down enough that the landing might not be lethal.
Path of the Traitors Page 32
