Delas watched the mage for a moment longer and then released her spell, kneeling at Legan’s side. She touched his forehead, closed her eyes in a moment of concentration, and then opened them again.
“He’s alive,” she whispered, tears in her eyes as she turned to Kyle.
“How you managed to find the medallion is still a puzzle, but we’ll have time to discuss that, once your friends, and your girl, are dead.”
“Jennifer’s alive,” Kyle whispered to himself, and took an easy side-step away from the group. “Where is she?” he demanded.
“She is enjoying her stay. In one of my…” Kurilan gestured at the floor with an open hand, “guest rooms, below.”
Kurilan took a step in the same direction as Kyle. He watched amused as Adam stepped in the opposite direction.
“Tell me, magic user, where did you learn your defensive magic? What guild are you a member?” Kurilan commanded.
“The Guild of the Rose,” Delas said, straightening up and squaring her shoulders in pride.
“The Rose? That is impossible. The Guild of the Rose…”
“Was destroyed. Burned to the ground. Everyone there...murdered, along with everyone in the caravan returning from the Great Library.” Delas’ hands curling into fists, her eyes narrowing in anger.
“Well, then I am long overdue to finish the job,” Kurilan said. He whispered several short phrases and gestured toward a pile of armor lying haphazardly in a small alcove. The pieces shook and then slowly formed into a quartet of armored warriors. In unison, they picked up their fallen swords, and headed toward the group. The lead knight raised a fist at Delas and three of the knights headed in her direction.
“Kyle. Watch out,” Delas said and began to create a shield to protect him.
“I think not,” Kurilan bellowed, and flung his hands in Delas’ direction. Immediately, her nose, mouth and throat were covered in a thick, tar-like goo. She frantically clawed at it, but her fingers couldn’t sink into the material.
Adam ran to her side, the animated knights ignored for the moment, and tried to remove the mess from her face. Kyle ran to the knight heading in his direction, closing the distance and slid to a stop. The knight swung its arm in a slow arc, the heavy weight of its weapon evident. The downward swipe was powerful, and Kyle countered it with his own sword, but the force of the blow made him stagger.
Kyle stepped forward, swinging in short blows, striking the metal armor, denting it in several places, but seemingly to no detrimental effect. The knight struck with an open palm to Kyle’s chest, forcing the air out of him and sending him tumbling to the floor. Kyle regained his footing and leapt back at the knight swinging at the knight’s sword arm, hoping to dislodge it. He landed two blows and ducked under a swing that whistled over his kneeling form.
Delas was frantic, her face a pink color, her eyes wide. Adam continued to pull at the hardened gel, shiny like cooled melted sugar. His fingertips slid across the surface and Delas’s hands began to slow as she fought for air.
Another low swing dented a hip plate and then Kyle’s sword caught and deflected another swing from the knight’s sword. The blade slid down and glanced off the back of Kyle’s glove, slicing it open and spilling blood. Kyle slid back and pulled the glove pieces from his hand. The blood flowed freely. He turned his hand over, and the runes glowed back at him, between streams of bright red blood.
The trio of knights moved closer to Adam’s kneeling form.
Adam slid his fingers along the edge of the crystallized mass, finally finding an opening. He hooked his fingers under the edge, pushing in Delas’ cheek and pulled. With a thick, suction sound, the mask peeled away and she sucked in great gasps of air. Adam watched her for a few seconds and then her eyes widened and she pointed over his shoulder.
“Adam,” she screamed
Adam picked up his sword and swung blindly, as he turned. His sword connected with the lead knight’s sword, barely deflecting it to one side. A second knight attacked, his sword striking the stone floor as Adam rolled to one side.
The third knight side-stepped the group and closed in on Delas.
* * * *
“Kyle,” Adam called out. He stood, ready for the attack when he was bowled off his feet by another scarlet blast from Kurilan. He stumbled, his body crashed into a stone pillar near the opening to the balcony. He lifted himself up onto his hands and feet, shaking his head.
The sound of Kurilan’s laughter echoed in the chamber.
“Fools. You should have let your friend die on his own.” Kurilan turned his attention toward Delas lying on the floor.
Delas began reciting again. Kurilan released a blast of hot energy, but Delas’ shield appeared an instant sooner, deflecting the energy harmlessly to one side.
“Never,” Delas called, her shield wavering from her fatigue.
Kyle rose to one knee and swung again, clashing with the armor. The knight brought his sword down in a deadly arc, striking Kyle’s sword, knocking it free. It slid across the stone floor, near where Adam lay. The knight watched the movement of the sword, then turned back to the figure at his feet. He drew his sword back and hesitated before delivering a death blow.
The knight held the sword high over its head, then it slipped its grasp and clattered to the floor. It took several steps, staggering to one side, and finally looked down at the bloody rune marks glowing on its dented hip plate. Overcome by the weight of the armor, the animated suit crashed to the floor, scattering pieces of metal in all directions.
Kyle instinctively covered his head to protect himself from the falling metal and when he looked up, Kurilan was gone. In his place was a thick plume of dark smoke. Kyle scrambled to his feet, grabbed his sword and ran to the smoke, swinging his weapon in front of him to no avail.
“Where…” He asked as the smoke slowly dissipated.
“Kyle,” Legan called out.
Like a spectre from a graveyard mist, Legan appeared at Kyle’s side, and placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small shove.
“Go help Delas. I’ll go after Kurilan.”
* * * *
Kyle darted across the room, catching the trio of animated knights unaware. He landed a heavy blow at the shoulder joint of one of the knights, separating the armor and sword from the knight’s body.
Whooping a cry, Kyle brought his weapon back and pressed the attack, leaving a deep dent in the back plate of the same knight. Out of the corner of his eye he saw motion and dropped to the floor. The lead knight’s sword whistled through the air over his head.
With the element of surprise gone, he slowly retreated as all three knights turned to face him, ignoring the diminutive magic user kneeling on the floor now behind them.
The knight with one arm stopped and picked up his fallen sword in his remaining gloved fist. He swung it back and forth easily and stepped forward to join his comrades.
Kyle continued to slowly back up until he bumped into a large stone pillar. He watched the knights advance and wondered which would attack first, when the one on his left struck.
Kyle turned away from the swing and heard the sound of metal on stone. The knight swung wide and scored the stone of the column. Before Kyle could bring his sword up, the one armed knight gave a feigned stab. Even with little force behind it, the tip of its sword penetrated the leather of Kyle’s coat at his left side. The sword edge trailed scarlet behind it as it was withdrawn and savagely knocked back by Kyle’s sword.
Kyle tucked his left arm close to his side, pinning the wound closed, and winced at the pain. Kyle raised his sword up, over his head as the knights moved in and rained a flurry of downward slashes. The force of the blows were quickly wearing him out. With each attack, his sword fell little by little. The weight of the sword itself now seemed impossibly heavy.
This is how it will end, Kyle thought. The one armed knight turned his head in the direction of the other knights and they stopped their attack. His lone enemy brought his sword down again in
a careful swing and when it clashed with Kyle’s, he continued pressing downward.
Kyle fell to one knee, trying to keep the two blades above his head. When he couldn’t do that, he watched powerless as the knight forced his sword to the stone floor. With a quick movement, the knight covered the top third of the blade with his foot.
The knight raised his weapon a final time over Kyle’s bowed head.
* * * *
Legan crossed through what was left of the smoke, his damaged axe held up at shoulder level. One blade of the twin head was badly scorched and misshapen. He saw the stone of the wall before him and was puzzled about where Kurilan could have gone.
Damn magic, he thought and then he heard a familiar sound.
The scrape of an untended door hinge cut the still air. Legan turned in its direction, but there was nothing along the wall. Wait. He stepped in the direction where he’d heard the sound and then he could see it. A small alcove framing a wooden door. The door swung slowly open grinding once again.
“Let’s end this,” Legan whispered.
Legan jumped to the door, pulled it open and dashed through into darkness.
As a dwarf, Legan’s night vision was much better than a human. It was arguably on par with the elves. Legan peered into the dark room, scanning back and forth looking for any sign of the wizard. The room was some kind of storeroom, with shelves from floor to ceiling, filled with glass bottles.
Legan walked cautiously forward, his axe held out, but he was aware the close quarters of the shelving could prove to hamper his attack or counter-attack. If the magic-user was here in this room, he hoped his vision in the darkness would give him an edge to attack quickly and decisively.
His hip bumped against a small waist high shelf and a bottle crashed to the floor, shattering and filling the air with the thick odor of rotten eggs. He coughed and stopped to wipe his watering eyes.
“Damn magic users with their potions and powders,” he muttered.
Suddenly, his head was filled with bright flashes, and he fell to the floor, barely slowing his fall with his hands. His axe clattered at his side.
He saw the dim outline of a set of polished leather boots and fought to keep his eyes open. Blood from his head wound flowed and through a bloody haze, he could see a discarded flail fall to the floor next to the boots. The air felt thick like molasses as he heard Kurilan speak.
“And now for the rest of them.”
Legan fought and finally gave in to the darkness.
* * * *
Kyle slowly raised his head and looked at the blade hovering over his head. He squinted his eyes as anger flooded back into his, pushing out the feeling of helplessness that was there a moment before.
He caught movement out of the corner of his right eye and rolled to his left. The knight’s blade clanged as it sliced empty air and struck the floor. A large brown shape crashed into the two knights standing next to Kyle’s attacker.
The force of the oaken barrel shattered the weak magical bonds holding the armor together, scattering the pieces across the floor in a loud metallic clatter. The barrel itself bounced, thudding off the base of a wall, finally settling on its side and started leaking a clear fluid.
Kyle looked momentarily to his right at a smiling Adam and then leapt forward at the distracted armored knight standing before him. The force of his leap drove the knight back and it stumbled, falling backwards, with Kyle riding him to the floor. The armored pieces scattered, and the bloodied sword slid across the stone.
Kyle raised this hand from the breastplate of the knight, leaving streaks of bloody fingerprints behind. Wiping his palm on his pants, he decided the runes imprinted on his open hand were more and less than the curse he originally decided them to be.
Adam ran to Kyle’s side.
“Where’s Kurilan?” Adam asked.
“Legan,” Kyle said, turning to the spot where he had last spoke to the dwarf and the life drained from his voice when he saw the dark mage standing in his stead.
* * * *
Kurilan stepped through the door, the smirk on his face quickly turning to a frown.
“No,” Kurilan screamed, and began another spell. A glowing ball of energy floated above his palm. “The time for play is over.”
Delas whispered to herself, allowing the shield to disappear from her protection and appear in front of Kyle. It was only there for a moment, and then it faded and disappeared.
Kurilan turned his palm over to direct the energy toward the defenseless Kyle, when his body jerked forward, his head snapped back and the ball of energy disappeared.
“What?” he asked, staring at the wooden shaft of an arrow sticking from his chest. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth, bubbling from his punctured lung. He wavered, blinking in surprise and half turned, spitting a mouthful of blood to the floor, and looked behind him.
At the far end of the room, partially hidden by a stone pillar stood Amber, an oaken bow in hand. She had already notched another arrow, and tracked the wounded mage over the tip of the arrow.
“You…You will pay…” Kurilan spit out, the last word lost in a bubble of blood. He raised his hands, mouthed several words and launched a ball of energy at Amber, who ducked behind the pillar and waited for the energy to strike and dissipate. Much weaker now, the energy crashed into the stone, but only blackened the surface.
Amber peeked out from behind the column but quickly pulled back when another sphere of energy began forming on Kurilan outstretched palm.
Kyle dismissed his lost sword and his hand fell to his belt. He pulled the weighted balls from the pouch at his side and let them drop to the end of the woven string that held each of them captive. Opposite the weights, Kyle held the knotted ends in his hand. On one knee, he began circling the weights over his head. They whistled as they picked up speed and then Kyle released them.
The bolos flew through the air and Kyle’s aim was true as they wrapped themselves around the arms of Kurilan, pinning them to his sides, and stopping his spell conjuring. He struggled to free his arms, turning blindly around. He stepped badly, catching his foot on the edge of a piece of a fallen knight’s armor.
Kurilan lost his balance and stumbled toward the open balcony. Unable to catch his fall, he slammed hip high into the crumbling limestone balcony railing and slowed for a moment before the rail gave way under his weight. He fell over the edge, surrounded by pieces of the limestone railing and screamed until his voice faded away.
Chapter Twenty Seven
“I need to find Jennifer,” Kyle said. He picked up his fallen sword and slid it into its sheath. He turned to Adam, “Borrow a glove?”
Adam pulled off his gloves and handed them over to his friend.
“Just need one, thanks” Kyle said, pulling on a replacement glove for the one that was shredded in the fighting.
“Need help?” Amber asked.
“No, I think I’ll be safe enough,” Kyle said, running toward the opposite side of the room and the chamber doorway. He disappeared a moment later.
Amber held her gaze at Kyle’s retreating figure, and then grabbed Adam’s sleeve.
“C’mon, let’s go.”
Adam and Amber caught up with Kyle halfway down the first staircase. As they raced down the steps, Kyle barked out orders.
“Adam, you search this floor. Watch yourself.”
Kyle and Amber reached the bottom of the stairs and continued downward. At the bottom of the next flight, Kyle pulled short.
“I’ll search this level and you go down to the floor below. Be careful.”
“Aren’t I always?” Amber asked and started down the next flight of stairs.
Kyle walked quickly down the wide hallway, pausing at the alcoves along the walls. At the end of the hall, on the left hand side was a heavy wooden door with iron bars over an opening in the upper part of the door. He tried the iron handle, expecting it to be locked, but the door opened easily. After a short landing, he found another short flight of s
tairs.
He descended the stone steps as quickly as he could in the darkness of the narrow staircase. When he reached the bottom, he could see down the hallway from the flickering wall-mounted oil lamps. He found several passages of holding cells and ran up and down their lengths, calling Jennifer’s name, but received no replies.
He was about to return the way he had come, when he saw the flicker of light down a passage hidden in the shadows of the left wall.
“Jennifer,” He called, cupping his hands around his mouth.
No response. The dark feeling that began to creep over him when he started searching now fully pierced him as he walked down the dark corridor. The dank tunnel, lit only by a sparse line of torches, was short, only a dozen or so cells all along one wall. He walked from cell to cell, looking in them. He was torn by hope not to discover Jennifer in such harsh conditions while he hoped she would be there safe and sound.
He was half way down the length of cells when he found her.
“Jennifer,” Kyle called into the cell, to her still form. He pulled on the cell door and when it didn’t budge, he called her again and then frantically looked at the nearby wall for a ring of keys. The peg was empty.
“Jennifer, wake up. Jennifer,” he called her again, and looked back at the peg and he saw the ring, lying crumpled on the floor. He leapt to the rusted ring, grabbed them and jammed the key into the lock. The key hesitated and then turned with a dull scraping sound. The door released and Kyle swung it open and ran inside, sliding to his knees at the still form of his love.
Her body was slick with the blood from her cut into the carotid artery.
“Adam. Adam help,” he screamed.
He slumped to the floor next to Jennifer’s body and pulled her close to him, into his lap as if they were watching a sunset together in a meadow. He welcomed the weight of her against him and as his tears fell, he told her how much he loved her.
Medallion of the Undead Page 27
