Doors of the Dark

by Gregory Mattix

  His countenance made Malek recoil. Black iron spikes had been driven through his eyes, the sockets puckered around them. His teeth were filed to razor points, revealed when his purple lips pulled back in a cold sneer. A dull iron crown was suspended in the air a few inches above his scarred, bald head like an unholy halo.

  Nera gasped quietly upon seeing the creature. Her face went even paler, and she reached out to the wall to steady herself. Malek let her go, and she slumped down, back against the wall, eyes wide in fear. He strode farther into the throne room, hoping to not give away her position.

  An aura of negative energy seemed to flow off the creature like a palpable wave, and he knew this being was the source of the fog and the one responsible for animating and controlling the undead.

  A lich. A mage so powerful that death itself couldn’t claim him. Malek shuddered involuntarily as he faced the monster.

  Chapter 28

  “Welcome to my kingdom, young corruptor.” The lich’s voice was deep and hollow, as if issuing from the depths of a tomb. “I am Stolak, conqueror of this fine land you have traversed.” A harsh coughing sound came from the lich, which Malek realized was laughter. “You’ve proven impressively elusive by evading my loyal citizens for so long. By now, you’ve noticed there is little enough source from which to draw power here, in my demesne. Yet I sense you flush with energy, that most gratifying of power—the vitality of a living being. Long has it been since I’ve tasted such a sweet puissance.”

  His face twisted in concentration, and he swiveled his head from side to side, the iron spikes seemingly probing right through Malek. “I sense the presence of another yet cannot see them. Is this mysterious companion whence you’ve acquired your vitality? This other must be healthy—a great font of vitality for you to arrive here flush with power. Had this vessel the ability to yet salivate, my mouth would water at the thought of consuming such sweet essence.” Stolak’s lips twisted in a gruesome smile, revealing his filed teeth. “It confounds me that I cannot see your companion. My eyes were taken from me in my youth, but I’ve managed to overcome that impediment, as I have all others—including the ultimate impediment, mortality.” He chortled again, but the laughter choked off in a grunt of frustration as he continued to scan the vast room.

  A minor blessing at least, that Nera is invisible to him. I’ll wager he’d find her eventually should I fall. He noticed from the corner of his eye that the thief had slid herself sideways a short distance during Stolak’s search for her. He gripped the staff more tightly in anticipation.

  Stolak’s gaze came back to rest upon him. “What do you hold in your hands? Is that the staff of mine eldest foe?”

  Malek’s knuckles had gone white from his grip on the Staff of Preservation. The lich radiated a fearsome aura, much as the Pale Lord had.

  “This is no concern of yours,” Malek said. “I have come to end your foul grip over this land. Release your tainted fog and spell over the undead.”

  Stolak coughed laughter again. “You are an insolent whelp, young one. I know not whence you came, for I have conquered this land from sea to sea, and it has all succumbed to my influence. You would not have escaped my notice. Portaled in from another plane, I presume?” He stroked his chin in a gesture indicative of the living man he once had been. “I am interested in discovering how you opened a portal here. Another lush world to conquer and consume… Yes, that would please me greatly. You will tell me every detail.” His lips parted in a smirk, revealing his filed teeth again.

  Malek shuddered at the lich’s expression—much like a starving wolf salivating over its wounded prey. This evil bastard will never escape from here, he vowed silently.

  “I think not,” he replied quietly, allowing the sensation of the vitality simmering within himself to soothe his nerves and help him remain calm. His eyes darted nervously to the robed figure beside the dais.

  “Ah, I see you’ve noticed my favorite minion, Alistor—he who was once my greatest foe.” Stolak gestured at the creature in violet-and-blue robes.

  Much worse preserved than Stolak, Alistor’s remaining flesh was dry and leathery. Bone showed through his jaw, where the flesh had peeled away. Long, greasy dark hair hung from his head in scattered patches. Blue eyes that were blank and dead stared unseeing. He stood silently as if awaiting Stolak’s command, the metal shaft of what had been a spear, less the tip, in his hand. The corpse’s ankle had been badly broken, nearly torn off, and he stood awkwardly upon the side of the twisted foot, necessitating the use of the staff to maintain balance. Even in death, Alistor managed to somehow project a noble bearing.

  “Alistor nearly had the power to vanquish me, but he was as much a fool as the others. His idiotic Tenets of Preservation kept him weak, which proved to be his undoing. He was too frail to prevent the destruction of hundreds of thousands of lives of his beloved people. A pity for them,” he remarked with no pity whatsoever. “Alas, he’s not much for conversation, but it pleases me to have him bound to my service for all eternity.”

  Alistor stared silently, and Malek thought his eyes rested upon him, as if he wished to speak. Nonsense, he’s naught but an animated corpse, little more than these skeletons. Malek suddenly felt a hot flash of rage along with pity for this man whom he believed to be an ancestor, forced into undeath by the madman Stolak.

  “His Tenets preserved this land—it preserved life!” Malek answered angrily. “Without them… Well, look at you! You have destroyed this entire land—every wisp of life is gone! And you are reduced to little more than a zombie madman ruling over this dead world.”

  Stolak’s face hardened in anger. “Enough insolence from you. I shall break you and gorge on your vitality. Then I’ll find your hidden companion and do the same.” He snapped his fingers, and the skeleton warriors jolted into motion. They lifted their swords and pivoted nearly as crisply as soldiers at drill, facing outward, and took slow steps, swinging their longswords like pendulums, as they spread out to search the room for Nera.

  She’s practically defenseless, weak as she is. I must try to end this soon.

  The lich watched the progress of his skeletons with a smirk.

  Malek thought to appeal to the lich’s arrogance. “How did you manage to stave off death? It is my understanding that we, as corruptors, cannot wield magic in such a manner.”

  Stolak’s attention returned to Malek. “Indeed. I took all the necessary precautions by hiring some of the greatest wizards throughout the planes. I convinced them to cast the essential contingency spells and had them recheck each others’ work until I was satisfied the process would function as needed. Once all was in place, I slew them, devouring their vitality. Once my mortal body failed, the apotheosis took effect, and I became as you see before you—immortal—a god!” He reared his head back and laughed again.

  Malek lashed out in that moment without warning. He focused his power, noting the staff fairly thrummed in his hands, and channeled the vitality through the staff. He was surprised to find it seemed to magnify the effect. He unleashed a concentrated blast of force at Stolak. The lich was blasted off the dais, the heavy stone throne toppling off and breaking apart when it struck the floor below. Stolak was slammed into the wall yet bounced off harmlessly. His face darkened with rage, and he levitated in the air above the dais.

  He maintains a protective bubble around him, Malek realized. He tried to imitate the lich, channeling a globe of force around himself.

  He completed it just in time. Stolak pointed at him, and Malek was launched off his feet, driven hard into the wall. Blocks of marble cracked under the blow, and dust filtered down from somewhere above, yet Malek remained unharmed. He didn’t recover nearly so smoothly, stumbling forward yet retaining his feet.

  For his next attack, he transformed the vitality within to fire. It flowed down the Staff of Preservation and poured forth in a concentrated stream. The fire engulfed the lich, flowing around his protective globe until a large ball of flames crackled atop the dais.<
br />
  Stolak’s laughter rang through the throne room. “Impressive, whelp. You’ve learned the basics any novice could perform.” With a quick whoosh, the flames whipped away from the lich, extinguished as easily as a candle from a gust of wind.

  He raised his arms, and the ground began to rumble. The flagstones tore apart in a crevasse, and Malek fell before he could react. He dropped down neck-deep in the ground. The stones groaned and swiftly closed in around him, pinning him in place. He focused on maintaining his globe of protection, keeping from being crushed in the process.

  “You must realize your powers are finite. Soon you will lie spent, weak as a newborn calf, young corruptor, while I maintain my power.” The lich floated off the dais, slowly coming towards Malek.

  “How is that possible? There is no earth magic to be taken from the land. You cannot have mana within yourself—you are dead!”

  “Ah, that is where you lack understanding. My death was a metamorphosis. I became a creature of undeath, bound by the negative energy which permeates the multiverse. I can draw on that—it is a vast ocean without limits.”

  Malek’s mind raced. Something the lich had said struck a memory. The Warder—it was bound with negative energy. If I can find a way to undo Stolak’s very being…

  Stolak gestured, and frost formed around Malek, coating the bubble of force he maintained. Soon he began shivering uncontrollably as the temperature dropped. He found it difficult to even think after a moment as his extremities went numb.

  The lich’s words seemed to come from far away. “I believe that is Alistor’s staff you hold? I’d very much like to take it from your dead hand. Perhaps I will create another servant. Poor Alistor is getting close to crumbling to dust. Ah, there’s an idea… I shall remake you in death. Your first act of obedience will be to kneel before your new god and hand over the staff.” His chortling laughter echoed through the throne room.

  ***

  Nera watched the battle from where she sat slumped helplessly against the wall. She could feel the blistering cold emanating from around Malek, even from her position a dagger’s toss away. Must feel like the surface of Yuez’hite inside that icy sphere. The lich stood arrogantly with hands on hips, his pointed teeth revealed as he smiled, obviously enjoying Malek’s torment.

  The six skeleton warriors continued to sweep the throne room for her. Fortunately, the room was vast, so it would take a few minutes before the nearest one approached her position if it kept on its current path.

  She felt as weak as the newborn calf Stolak had mentioned. It had taken all of her willpower, fueled by fear, to drag herself over to the corner she huddled in when the lich’s black-spike eyes had swept the room. Her slow crawl had exhausted what little strength she had remaining. As it was, she could barely remain in a sitting position and watch the battle.

  Malek needs my help. He won’t last long against that monster. I must find a way to distract him. She found herself wishing Idrimel and Athyzon were there to counteract the creature’s evil, as they had stood up to Zaefir so forcefully. Truly, they acquitted themselves well there. I’d love to see some of that holy fire light up Stolak’s undead arse.

  Her hand, which felt as heavy as if it were encased in stone, found its way to Malek’s ring, again mounted on her horn, although she couldn’t remember returning it there. That undead bastard can’t see me since he has no sight other than magical. My invisibility could be used to our advantage, perhaps. If I could strike with Lightslicer, would it have any effect? Perhaps… but to find out, I need to first come up with the strength to even bloody move.

  ***

  Malek knew Stolak had the right of it—he was doomed. Nera’s vitality had been draining from him at an alarming rate. Simply maintaining the shield around himself took a steady draw, and his attacks on Stolak had taken large amounts. He had also used some power to warm the inside of the globe to keep from freezing to death.

  I need to make use of the staff—it amplifies the power.

  With his second sight, he could see the maelstrom of negative energy swirling around the lich. As he searched for the source of energy binding Stolak, he noticed the large ruby necklace was a concentrated nebula of power, pulsing with dark magic. Try as he might, he couldn’t touch the necklace in any way to even attempt to unmake it. Nor could he physically harm the lich. Stolak’s globe of protection seemed invulnerable.

  Or is it?

  With the lich no longer floating in the air, Malek noticed a small gap in the shield where Stolak stood. It curved up to either side of where his feet contacted the ground. That was all the opening Malek needed.

  Focusing his will, he shaped the stone and dirt into a sharp spike well beneath the flagstones, molding them together with force, in an attempt to evade Stolak’s notice. When ready, he launched the spike upward like a ballista bolt, shattering the flagstone and impaling the lich from groin to neck, lifting him off his feet. The spike burst free of the lich’s neck, causing his head to hang sideways at an awkward angle. A black, tarry fluid oozed down the spike.

  Stolak grimaced, and after a moment, the spear disintegrated, turning to sand. He remained levitating in midair, his wounds almost instantly disappearing. His neck cracked audibly when he straightened his head. “That would’ve hurt had I been able to feel pain. Clever boy.”

  Malek’s globe suddenly shot up out of the ground and veered to the left, slamming hard into the wall. An instant later, before he could recover, it rebounded and then quickly flew into the opposite wall, continuing to bounce back and forth rapidly. He sought to stabilize the sphere, but the lich’s power was overwhelming. Desperately, he fired a blast of lightning through the staff, which crackled around the lich’s sphere before dissipating into the floor.

  His mana reserve was running low, and he still couldn’t cause any harm to the lich. He knew that once he ran out of Nera’s borrowed vitality, he would have to try to capture the negative energy Stolak wielded. That would prove debilitating and possibly fatal.

  I have no real choice here—fight or die. If I die, he’ll just create a zombie from my corpse like Alistor. No choice but to fight.

  To make matters worse, he felt his shield dissipating to the point he was forced to channel even more vitality to maintain it. With his second sight, he could see the energy of his shield flowing into the lich. His globe suddenly stopped its jarring movement, calmly floating to rest on the ground a few paces in front of the lich so Stolak could savor his victory.

  The lich’s smile broadened, and he threw his arms wide, head reared back in triumph. “I haven’t tasted the sweet nectar of vitality for centuries! Enjoy your final moments, whelp, for I tire of this contest.”

  Malek tried to fight down the panic threatening to overwhelm him. He had mere moments before he was completely drained. No way in the Abyss will I let that monster reanimate me as his zombie pet.

  His eyes slid over to Nera, her eyes wide in horror as she could only helplessly watch his losing battle. She’d best leave me. I won’t be able to bear seeing her drained and toyed with by this monster.

  Stolak’s necklace seemed to blaze with power as he regarded the lich, or perhaps Malek was starting to hallucinate from his struggle to hold on to his last remaining vitality.

  That necklace is the key! We must destroy it somehow.

  “Nera!” he cried. “Can you somehow get to that necklace and destroy it?”

  The rogue stirred from her position, eyes going thoughtfully to the lich.

  “What’s this, boy? Your hidden companion is as powerless as you against me. They cannot help you.” With a triumphant surge, Stolak tore free the last of Malek’s stored vitality.

  Malek’s vision blurred, and he stumbled to his knees, unprotected by his shield. A deep weakness settled over his limbs, and he realized in horror the lich was now draining his own vitality.

  ***

  Malek’s words shook Nera out of her stupor. She watched in horror as the lich triumphantly stood over Malek
, who had slumped to his knees, his face going gray as she imagined his vitality draining.

  With a reserve of fortitude she was surprised she even possessed, she drew Lightslicer and got up on one knee. The lich was only ten paces away. She should’ve been able to make the throw in her sleep, but that was before she had been drained of all her strength.

  Damn it, I’ve got to make this one count. Please, Sabyl, guide my arm.

  She brought her arm back and, with the last of her strength, let Lightslicer fly. The powerfully enchanted dagger seemed to tumble end over end in slow motion as it approached the lich.

  Her aim was true—with a silvery spark, the dagger pierced whatever magical shield had prevented Malek from harming Stolak and struck the necklace’s golden chain, severing it and sending it tumbling to the ground. It bounced off the lich’s knee and rolled away across the floor, stopping a dozen paces away from Nera. Lightslicer remained lodged in Stolak’s thickly muscled chest, seemingly unnoticed.

  The lich snarled and let up on his attack. He spun in her direction, seeking out the necklace.

  Nera tried to crawl after it, but she could barely move a couple feet before exhaustion dragged her down.

  The necklace rose into the air and floated back toward Stolak. Nera cursed—their one chance was doomed to fail.

  Suddenly, the necklace wobbled in the air and was knocked aside as if an invisible hand had swatted it away. It rolled across the flagstones and came to rest beside Alistor’s rotted boot.

  Stolak spun in anger to face Malek. The mage’s face was gray but taut with determination as he tried to wrest the lich’s power away. Whatever he was doing was taking its toll on him. Nera remembered how he had looked following the battle with the Warders.