Medallion of the Undead

by Anthony Rudzki

  When he cleared the passage he hesitated when he saw Delas thrashing at Adam. He was trying to hold her in place, gripping her wrists as she thrashed about.

  Legan ran to the cell, and slipped inside. Delas broke free of Adam’s grip and grabbed Legan by the forearms.

  “Legan. We’ve got to get out of here. Can’t you feel that? It’s evil. What are we doing here?” Delas’ eyes were wide as she looked around her, like a caged animal trying to escape.

  Delas released her hold around Legan’s arms, scanned the cell and found her pack lying against the back wall. She scooped it up by a strap and was almost out of the holding cell before Adam grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.

  “Delas, slow down. What are you talking about? You fell and hit your head. There was blood everywhere. We tried to wake you, but couldn’t.”

  Delas continued to look around, her head jerking from one position to the next.

  “We stumbled onto the place in the rain. The man that lives here has been friendly to us. I think we’re safe here, right Legan?” Adam turned to the dwarf who began to speak but was cut off by Kyle’s voice as he entered the chamber.

  “Delas, you’ve woken up. You really scared…”

  “Kyle, we have to get out of here. I can sense an evil in this place.” Delas said, her voice loud. Adam reached up, partially covering her mouth with his hand.

  “Keep your voice down.” Adam hissed.

  From the darkness of the passageway, the metallic sound of a sword being pulled free of a scabbard cut through the quiet. Omen stepped into the light, long sword in one hand and a glowing oil lamp held high in the other.

  “No one is going anywhere,” Omen said, his voice now steady and deep. He raised the sword and pointed the tip in the direction of the group.

  “Get into those cells. All of you.”

  * * * *

  Adam stepped toward Omen, and the blade jabbed forward several inches toward him. Adam put his hands up and backed away to Delas’ side, and the two stepped back closer to the cells.

  “Omen, these are great apples. Where…” Amber said, walking into the room.

  Omen leapt toward her, pulling her close. He twisted her arm behind her back. She struggled, but Omen jerked her arm higher until she screamed. Amber stopped struggling and dropped the apple to the floor.

  “Just get in the cells. All of you. I want to make sure you don’t go wandering off, that’s all. Get in the cells and I can let you out after a few hours. Wait.” He commanded as he shuffled Amber so she was between Legan and himself. He pressed the blade to her throat.

  “Drop the axe. I don’t want to hurt anyone unless you force me to.”

  The sound of the axe clattering to the stone floor rang out in the quiet air. Legan made no move to step away from it.

  “Everyone in the cells, except for you Kyle. Drop your sword. Good. Now, I want that medallion.”

  “What?” Kyle asked, caught off guard.

  “Don’t play me for a fool. The Master has spoken to me in a dream. He told me about you, your pitiful group, and the treasure you wish to destroy. Give it to me and I will return it to its rightful owner.”

  “The medallion won’t leave my possession. I’ve tried to get rid of it before I knew of its immense power and it materialized in my pack,” Kyle said and slowly stepped away from Legan.

  “Stop,” Omen yelled. He raised the sword’s edge to Amber’s throat, and pulled her closer.

  “Yes, such is the power of the magic of the medallion. The spell is broken with your death, you know. I would hope it doesn’t come to that, but that will be up to the Master to decide. As for the rest of your friends, they can stay a while. It will be nice to have some...company for dinner.”

  Omen gave Amber a hard shove and she fell to the floor, tumbling against a wall and scrambled into the shadows. He lifted his sword and pointed the blade at Kyle.

  “Now. All of you, in the cells.”

  Legan scooped the handle of his axe and in one fluid motion the weapon arced toward Omen.

  Omen raised the metal lamp to ward off the blow. The axe caught the metalwork of the lamp and tore it from Omen’s hand, sending it flying across the room where it smashed against the wall near Cathandra.

  The cat screeched. Burning oil coated the wall. The fiery liquid streamed down the rocky surface and formed a smoky pool on the stone floor.

  Legan lunged forward toward Omen. He closed the gap quickly, but Omen was quicker. With a sweeping kick, he sent the dwarf tumbling toward the oily flames.

  Kyle leapt to his sword. He wrapped his hand around the hilt, brought it up, and swung downward toward a stunned Omen.

  The crashing of steel rang out as Omen raised his sword in time to block the attack. Shoving Kyle, Omen put him back on his heel and Kyle’s second feeble attack slashed through still air.

  Kyle stepped to one side, away from the fire and held his sword in front of him. Omen leapt forward, his sword over his head and swung downward. Kyle stumbled back, bringing his sword up out of reflex, warding off the blow.

  Smoke flowed over the ceiling and hung in a darkening haze.

  Legan charged and Omen turned to face this new attacker, but a gloved fist connected with the side of his head, stunning him and driving him down to one knee.

  He thrust his sword up, its blade connecting with Legan’s axe, shoving it harmlessly to one side. He staggered to one side to get away from Legan and regained his footing. Omen crouched, his sword in front of him, sweeping between Kyle and Legan.

  From the shadows, Amber appeared behind Omen. Catlike, she leapt, twin blades gleaming in her outstretched hands.

  Amber’s knives sunk into Omen’s back. Blood splattered in long streaks along the wall as Amber yanked the weapons free. She kicked Omen in the hip, causing him to stagger and fall to one knee.

  He glanced over his shoulder first at Amber, then his gaze shifted to Cathandra. He fought to draw a breath. Blood streamed along his sides and puddled on the floor at his knees. Gripping the hilt of his sword, he tried to stand, using the sword for support, but his blood-stained hand slipped and he fell.

  Legan slid the sword away from Omen with the tip of his boot. Omen looked upward. Blood bubbled from the corner of his lips. He mouthed something silently and then was still.

  * * * *

  No one said anything as they exchanged glances with one another, finally settling them on Amber.

  Amber broke the silence. “Well, what are we going to do now?” she asked, taking her daggers in one hand and retrieving a dark cloth with the other hand from a small pouch as her hip. She wiped the blood from the blades and slipped them back into their sheaths.

  As if in answer to her question, a screeching hiss filled the room. Cathandra’s arched her back. The screeching hiss increased in volume until it became piercing and painful to everyone in the room.

  “My gods,” Legan said and stepped around the flickering puddles of burning oil toward the howling cat. Just as he got within arm’s reach, his body stumbled backwards, his feet struggled to support him until he finally fell, stunned. His axe slid from his grasp.

  The cowering form of Cathandra disappeared, replaced with the huge glimmering form of a mottled dungeon spider.

  Its multi-jointed legs covered a diameter of almost three meters, and ended with hooked tips. Its abdomen was the size of an adult sheep. Black eyes covered its head and glimmered in the torchlight. Thick fangs protruded from the brown hairs that covered its mouth. A thin fluid hung from the fangs and dripped onto the stone.

  * * * *

  The spider turned its body in a tight arc to avoid the burning oil.

  The brown-spotted spider spun to face the party, now arrayed in a rough semicircle around it.

  Kyle raised his sword, quickly placing himself between the hissing spider and Legan, who still lay stunned on the floor. “Adam, get Legan to his feet. Move.”

  Adam shuffled behind Kyle, using him as a shield, and got
an arm wrapped around the dwarf’s waist. With effort, he hauled him to his feet and dragged the staggering dwarf behind Kyle.

  Amber’s voice barked a warning. “Kyle, look out.”

  The spider crouched for a second and then it was airborne. It leapt in Kyle’s direction, its fangs in constant movement and dripping a deadly venomous fluid.

  Kyle dropped to one knee, his sword raised, and braced for impact. Warmth washed over him, and Kyle opened his eyes without realizing that he’d closed them. He looked at the spider as it attempted to penetrate the pale red haze seperating the two.

  Delas held the shield spell from a kneeling position near one of the cells and concentrated on maintaining it, even as droplets of sweat began to form on her brow.

  “C’mon...C’mon,” she whispered to herself.

  Adam eased Legan quickly to the floor and charged to one side of the spider as it continued to bite at the glowing shield. He swung his short sword, cutting through the one of the spider’s legs above the first joint.

  Greenish-black liquid squirted from its legs, and the floor became slippery with it. Adam tried to shuffle in retreat, but only managed to keep his footing on the slick stone floor. The spider turned to face its new attacker, leading a dark arc of liquid on the stone.

  “Legan, we could use some help here,” Adam called, his sword out, as he carefully stepped backwards.

  Legan got to one knee, shook his head and stood. He scanned the floor likely looking for his fallen axe.

  “I got it,” Adam called to him and shuffled his way to the fallen weapon, keeping his sword and his eyes on the spider. Crouching, he picked up the axe and tossed it on the floor near Legan.

  Legan picked up the axe and advanced, chopping the air between himself and the spider. He drove the beast back until it stopped near one of the last smoldering wells of burning oil, and struck at him, which he easily avoided.

  Legan held the spider at bay, chopping when the legs darted toward him. Dark fluid covered his blade and dripped to the floor.

  With Legan battling the spider, Delas lowered her hands and the protective shield around Kyle disappeared. He stood, his sword ready for an unspoken group attack, when two objects flew through the air, toward the injured spider.

  In swift succession, one of them exploded on the floor, spilling its contents in front of the spider, while the other shattered on the creature itself. The smell of lantern oil filled the air.

  Amber pulled her a bottle free from her pack and held it in reserve.

  The spider faced Amber and one of its rear legs contacted the smoldering puddle next to it. Flames climbed its leg and ignited the dripping oil. The spider burst into flames. The hairy beast swayed and staggered as wounded legs burned and buckled under the weight of its body. It dragged itself along the wall toward the dining room.

  “Let’s go,” Adam yelled, grabbing Delas by her arm and helping her to her feet.

  Amber put the glass bottle back in her pack, grabbed Legan’s pack, which was lying nearby, and ran into the dark passage toward the dining area followed by Adam and Delas.

  “You go,” Legan called to Kyle, who grabbed his pack and started through the passage. He hesitated, keeping an eye on the badly wounded spider.

  Legan looked over his shoulder and saw Kyle standing there, waiting for him.

  “You are a hard headed one, aren’t you? Let’s go,” Legan said.

  With his axe at the ready, he backed away from the burning monster, almost colliding with Kyle, and the two of them ran through the passage.

  When they cleared the passageway, Kyle and Legan found everyone grouped near the front door. Adam held it open, anxious to get moving now they’d escaped the monster.

  “Move,” Adam said to the group and led the way through the door. Everyone followed, the last one out was Legan. He took a final look back into the lair, and watched the dark passageway for movement. Satisfied, he turned and stepped past the wooden door and out into the cool, quiet air that lay beyond it

  * * * *

  The rain had stopped and the clouds that covered the skies were breaking up, allowing the waning moon through at intermittent intervals. The weak moonlight was enough to illuminate the rough strewn path leading downward and to the fields at the base of the hills. The matted grasses were beaten down across the trail slick from the rain making it treacherous for the fast moving group. None of them spoke. A grim determination overrode their exhaustion, driving them to put considerable distance between themselves and Omen’s lair. They moved in silence for almost an hour before Kyle finally spoke, calling for them to slow. They broke into a clearing in the grassy fields. Dropping their packs they fell to the ground exhausted.

  A short time later, a fire blazed in a cleared out fire pit dug out in the center of the tight circle of travelers. The only sound came from the crackling wood, as sap and tar popped, releasing a stream of sparks skyward. The insects answered the wood’s cries with chirping and buzzing sounds of their own.

  Legan looked at the still faces, lit up by the firelight, and saw expressions he’d seen during war-time: mixtures of disbelief, weariness and introspection. With a heavy sigh, he cleared his throat and told about his exploration of the rock strewn passage. He recounted how he accidentally discovered they were, in fact, illusionary rocks filled or at least, appeared to fill the passage. Legan’s story-telling skills captured their attention and lifted their spirits. They became engaged in the dwarf’s tale. He continued, telling them about the trek down the stone staircase and his discovery of the piles of human remains. He described the condition of the bones he examined and finished by telling them about the piles of armor and weaponry that he saw.

  “So what do you think about the bones and that equipment you found?” Adam asked Legan.

  Legan explained what came to him in a flash while he was standing amid the bones and metal work. “I think Omen and that cat-spider-whatever it was, had some kind of useful coexistence. I think Omen was hospitable to travelers, lured them in, as he lured us in and then that-that thing would stun or kill them and the two would feast on their flesh.” Legan shuddered.

  “We were lucky to get out of there alive. If it wasn’t for Amber...” Delas whispered and moved a little closer.

  Amber uttered a nervous laugh when the others muttered various bits of gratitude to her.

  “It was nothing, really. Look, from what Legan found, Omen and his girlfriend would have killed us all. My plan was not to end up on the plate of a spider and her pet human. I plan on living a long, slightly less exciting life and dying an old woman, plump and rich in a warm feather bed, in a cottage on the edge of a sparkling lake.”

  Kyle laughed. “Really?”

  “Ehh, it’s a possibility. Look, I did what I needed to do, that’s all.” Amber gazed across the fire in the direction of the lair from which they’d escaped. She looked out over the countryside scanning the trail and grasslands for movement.

  “What? See something?” Legan asked.

  “Huh? No. Nothing.” Amber replied, her eyes scanning the darkness.

  Reluctantly, she quit looking, turned back to the group and changed the subject. “If you’re looking for a hero, how about Delas and that shield she cast, saving Kyle from being that thing’s dinner? It leapt and BAM!” She slapped an open palm against her closed fist, “It was stopped in mid attack. Very impressive,” Amber said and smiled.

  Delas smiled back. “That was one of the few spells I was able to learn before...well, that’s one of the few spells I know, for now.”

  “Well, I really appreciate your studious nature,” Kyle said with a serious tone and was able to hold it for only a few seconds before he broke into laughter.

  “The real tragedy,” Amber broke in, quieting everyone down again, “is that hidden in that place is probably a chest or two filled with coins, gems and golden trinkets.” She released a deep sigh, “I wonder if it’s worth going back?”

  The sound of everyone shouting out th
eir answers to the negative brought much needed laughter to the group and drowned out the lonesome sounds of the night.

  * * * *

  Kyle woke with a gentle tug at his feet. He looked up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and was surprised to see it was still night. The embers in the fire pit were dying out, only providing a weak glow. In the dim light, he saw the others grouped around the pit were sleeping soundly. He tried to stand, but found he couldn’t move his feet.

  Suddenly, a violent yank pulled him from his sitting position, and left him lying on the ground, prone, unable to move his legs. A second pull succeeded in dragging him several inches where he paused a second time. He opened his mouth to call out, and a third strong pull flipped him over onto his stomach, filling his mouth with watery mud. He felt himself being dragged steadily away from the camp as he fought to clear his mouth and call for help.

  He clawed the ground with his hands, his fingers digging into the muddy earth, but whatever was dragging him away easily overpowered his attempts to stop the slide. He grabbed at the grasses as they slipped by, but the wet grass slipped from his grasp. The woody branches of a small bush scratched his hip and slid along his side. Grasping wildly, he managed to get his fists around the stock of the small bush.

  The kidnapping turned into a bitter tug-of-war, as Kyle held onto the thick stem of the plant and tried to pull himself closer to it. Thorns bit into his hands, tearing at the calloused flesh. Pain and the constant back and forth threatened to make him lose his grip. Taking a deep breath, he pulled harder and screamed.

  At the sound of his voice, the pull on his legs redoubled, and he lost his grip. He called out again, screaming for help, as he was dragged along the ground. The camp disappeared in the darkness.

  The pulling stopped and he flipped over and sat up, to see his attacker. From the darkness beyond his sight, came a screeching sound that instantly took him back to the escape, only hours before, from the cavern where Omen and the spider monster had lived. That scream…

  Kyle tried to move again, but his legs were securely bound by the thin cord, and try as he might, he couldn’t break the binding with his bare hands. As he pulled his hands away, he felt the stickiness on the webbing and his fingers.