Tales from the New Earth: Volume One

by Thompson, J. J.

  That cackling laughter cut through the air again and Simon had to wipe the sweat from his palms before his staff slipped from his grasp.

  “If we only knew what she was,” Clara whispered. “We might find a way to stop her. Or at least hold her back until sunrise.”

  Simon stole a quick glance at the sky, but the elusive light of pre-dawn was nowhere to be seen.

  “I think I might know what we are dealing with,” Aeris said in a small, tense voice.

  Both Simon and Clara looked at him in surprise.

  “You do?” Simon asked.

  “Perhaps. I could be wrong. I hope that I am. But with the evidence of her power...” he pointed at the destroyed gate, “I'm afraid that I might just be right.”

  “Well, what is she?” Clara asked somewhat impatiently.

  “Only a wizard is strong enough to cast a spell like the one that smashed the gates,” the elemental told them.

  “She's not a wizard,” Simon said hotly. “Wizards don't command the dead.”

  Surprisingly, Aeris nodded.

  “Exactly, Simon. But a dead wizard can. That's what I think we are dealing with here. She's a lich. Or so I believe. And if she is, then may the Four Winds have mercy on us.”

  “A lich?” Clara asked. “Then that means that she is undead, like those walking corpses she commands.”

  “That is true.”

  “In that case, she has to be vulnerable to the same things that they are, doesn't it? My spells against the undead should affect her.”

  “Possibly,” Aeris said. “But not as much as those walking bundles of bones. She may be discomforted but I doubt that it would be more than that.”

  “I can hear that you are still chatting with each other,” Madam's voice cut in. “But I'm a little pressed for time at the moment. Don't worry though. You'll have all the time in the world to chit-chat when I adopt you into my family.”

  There was a pause.

  “Now, my children,” that hateful voice shrieked suddenly. “Take them in my name! Bring them into the houses of the dead!”

  “Everyone, get back!” Simon shouted. “I have to drop the shield to cast.”

  He moved back away from the ruined gates as he spoke and Clara and the elementals moved with him.

  From the darkness, a shuffling, staggering mass of rotting corpses slowly came into view. Simon gagged at the stench of putrescence that wafted ahead of them.

  Some were missing limbs, others were eyeless. One or two were so rotten that their lower jaws had fallen off and they oozed green goo from their gaping throats.

  The wizard heard Clara begin to whisper and he cut her off.

  “Wait a second,” he said as he watched the army of undead shamble toward them. “Let me try something first. Save your strength for their leader.”

  The cleric didn't respond but she stopped chanting.

  Simon held up Bene-Dunn-Gal in both hands, holding it horizontally as he spoke an incantation.

  “Invectis!” he cried as he triggered the spell.

  The staff quivered in seeming delight as it bit deeply into both hands and then burst into a red radiance.

  Directly in front of the mindless attackers, a wall of fire shot straight up from the earth. The zombies ignored it and kept walking.

  They went up like torches. The heat of the flames was so intense that the scattered piles of snow within a dozen feet instantly turned to steam.

  Simon and the others fell back from the blast of heat as the undead continued to walk into the fire. They burned like oil-soaked rags.

  “Stop! Stop!” the voice of Madam screamed in rage. “I command you to stop!”

  It was too late. Dozens of the undead were burning and the fire leaped from one shuffling corpse to the next like a living thing. Bene-Dunn-Gal shook in Simon's hands and he seemed to hear a far-off laughter, as if the staff was delighted at the carnage. He was sure that it was.

  Choking smoke, smelling of cooked, rotting meat, filled the air. Simon kept wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he held the staff steady. Beside him, Clara coughed raggedly, but mixed in was the sound of her vengeful laughter.

  “Wonderful, Simon. That will show that monster that we aren't her helpless victims.”

  “Not so fast,” Aeris said urgently. “Don't mock the thing. These corpses were only the first volley in her attack.”

  Simon glanced at him and Aeris nodded his head vigorously.

  “Oh great,” he muttered. “I only have two spells left and no time to memorize more.”

  He lowered the staff and leaned against it heavily.

  “Then let's hope they're good ones, my dear wizard,” Aeris said earnestly.

  “Yeah, right.”

  All of the undead were now in flames. At a guess, Simon thought that they'd destroyed at least fifty of the horrible things. He wondered how many people had been killed and made undead on Madam's journey from Ottawa.

  From the inky darkness beyond the walls, they could hear Madam cursing and hissing insanely as her 'children' burned like so much kindling. Simon looked up again and felt a faint twinge of hope. The sky was turning a very faint shade of pink. Dawn was coming.

  “How are Richard and the others?” he asked Clara as they waited to see what the lich would do next.

  She sighed and he looked at her in time to see tears wash two narrow tracks in the soot on her face. They were both covered in it.

  “Richard's dead, Simon,” she said with a catch in her voice. “So are the other guards. Eight in all.”

  Simon grew cold and a heavy lump seemed to settle in his belly.

  “Lynn too?” he asked with dread.

  Clara could only nod.

  “God damn it!” he said with mingled grief and fury. “What the hell did we ever do to deserve this, except survive?”

  He turned and glared out through the walls at the slowly fading darkness.

  “Come on, you bitch!” he shouted suddenly. “If you've got any more, then let's get on with it!”

  Madam's cursing stopped abruptly. And then they saw movement beyond the wall. A tall shadowy figure glided toward them and, as it finally entered the torchlight and stopped in between the ruined gates, Simon and Clara gasped in unison. Behind them, several people screamed.

  Black robes, tattered and filthy, covered the tall creature that glared at them. Madam floated a foot above the ground and reared up almost seven feet higher than that. Only her hands were visible, skeletal and covered in thin, tattered skin. Her face was hidden deep inside the cowl of her robe, but huge eyes, like red flame, burned from within. Like Simon, she carried a staff, although this one looked more like a twisted tree branch, dead and brittle.

  The cowl turned this way and that, surveying the crowd and then looking down at the heaps of ashes which were all that remained of her followers.

  “Oh, that was cruel, child,” she croaked, her voice low and tortured, sounding like breaking glass. “Cruel to destroy my family. It took me so much time to adopt so many. Now I shall have to start again.”

  The eyes gazed balefully at him and Simon held up Bene-Dunn-Gal as if it were a shield.

  “Oho! Look at the pretty staff you wield. Is it a gift for Madam? It should be, as payment for all the trouble you've caused me.”

  A bony hand extended toward Simon.

  “Give it to me and I'll let you live, for now. Time is short anyway and I need some rest.”

  Simon stared at the lich and watched her fingers crook as if grasping the staff. He watched the creature silently, thinking fast.

  “You aren't thinking of actually giving that thing to her, are you?” Aeris asked with wide eyes. “Do you know what a creature like that could do with a relic as powerful as that staff?”

  “Simon, don't do it,” Clara said urgently. “Dawn is almost here. We can hold her back until then.”

  “Can we?” he muttered, still watching the eager lich. “You can barely stand, my friend. And I don't think that the spells I
have left will be enough to stop her.”

  “But to give her your staff? That's...”

  “Insane,” Aeris said shortly.

  “Maybe so, Aeris.” Simon told him. When the elemental began to argue again, the wizard waved at him to be quiet.

  'Bene-Dunn-Gal, can you hear me?' Simon asked silently.

  The staff quivered slightly in his hand.

  'I'm guessing that you probably wouldn't like belonging to an evil, undead creature like Madam, would you?'

  There was a surge of warmth in his palms as the staff responded.

  'I didn't think so. I'd like you to do me a favor, if you would. Show her your dislike.'

  The staff went quiet in his hands and Simon hid a grim smile. He looked at the lich, who was slowly inching forward as if to tear the staff from his grasp.

  “Before I give you my staff, Madam, I want your word. Your word that you will leave us alone.”

  “Of course, dearie. I give you my word,” she squealed eagerly.

  Simon pulled back the staff and held up a hand. Madam hissed in anger.

  “Uh-uh. I want your word that you won't attack us for at least, oh let's say a month. And I want you to swear on your dark gods to that effect.”

  There was a long moment of silence.

  “Oh, you are a clever one, aren't you, sweet child? You know that Madam must keep her word if she invokes her masters. Very well then. I need time to rebuild my family anyway. So here is my word. In the name of my dark masters, I shall leave you and yours in peace for a month.”

  And then she giggled.

  “But not a moment longer. After all, I mustn't make the game too easy for you, hmm?”

  “I accept your promise, Madam. And when you come back in a month, we'll be ready for you.”

  The cowl flew back as the lich suddenly howled with laughter. Simon felt sick as the undead's head was revealed to be nothing but a skull covered with thin, broken skin and crowned with a few wisps of long, gray hair. Madam's blackened teeth clashed together as she laughed insanely and her burning eyes rolled in their sockets.

  “You think that you will, my sweet one, but you won't be. My family will be very large indeed when we return again. But we shall save that debate for another day, shall we? Come now, the night is waning and I have much to do.”

  She extended her bony hand impatiently and Simon looked at the others one last time.

  Clara was watching him hopelessly, her posture limp with exhaustion. Aeris had his arms folded and glared at Simon disapprovingly. And Kronk, as usual, had a look of complete trust on his face as he watched closely.

  Simon extended the staff toward the lich and she glided forward, cackling happily to herself.

  'Bene-Dunn-Gal,' Simon said silently. 'Take my blood if you need it. If it will strengthen you, take a full measure and use it well.'

  He held up the staff and felt it bite deeply into his palm.

  The lich reached out and plucked the staff from Simon's hands. She grasped it firmly, crowing her glee.

  “Ah, such a gift. Imagine, my dear, when we meet again and I turn its powers against you.”

  Simon smiled widely.

  “Yes, imagine that, you heartless bitch.”

  Madam stopped laughing and stared down at him, her eyes flaring and drops of flame leaking down her skeletal face like tears.

  “Be careful, small wizard. Do not test me, or when we see each other again, your death will not be easy.”

  Clara stepped forward and glared at the monster.

  “You got what you wanted, abomination. Now go. Your foulness corrupts the very air we breathe.”

  The wizard looked at her in admiration. He knew that Clara was terrified, but she was also furious at her people's deaths, especially Richard's.

  “Your death will be hard regardless, cleric of fallen gods,” Madam spat at her. “Your soul will twist in torment when I collect it for my masters. Think on that as you wait for my return.”

  The lich turned slowly, holding the staff triumphantly like a trophy as she floated toward the destroyed gates. She was giggling horribly to herself again.

  The sun was about to peek over the horizon and Simon guessed that the dawn was only minutes away. Now is the time, he thought.

  “Madam! One last thing before you go,” he called to the lich.

  She stopped in between the gates and turned to look at him.

  “Speak quickly, child. I'm running a little late, don't you know.”

  Simon walked forward and stopped a few feet away from the towering monster.

  “Just one small question,” he said. He thought the glaring eyes flicked a quick look over his shoulder at the distant horizon.

  “One question then, dear one. As a further payment for my lovely present.”

  “I wanted to ask if your masters have another lich stored around somewhere to take your place when you're gone?”

  She peeled out a ear-torturing laugh.

  “I will never be gone, child. I am immortal. I am eternal.”

  “Really?” Simon lifted an eyebrow. “Let's find out.”

  He turned and ran toward Clara and the elementals. The sun was about to rise.

  “Now!” he yelled as he reached the group. The three of them looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.

  “What? What are you..?” Madam sputtered. And then a white light blazed along the length of the staff and the lich's hands were locked on to Bene-Dunn-Gal by layers of ice.

  “What is this?” she shrieked as she shook her hands, trying to loosen the icy grip of the staff. And then, as if the weapon had become unbearably heavy, the staff slammed into the ground, dragging Madam on to her knees in the frozen dirt.

  “What is going on?” the lich roared. “What have you done?”

  She raised her head and glared at Simon. He glared back, a twisted grin on his face.

  “I just thought you'd like to see the dawn. It's lovely this time of year.”

  The blood red eyes widened as the lich looked up at the sky, arms frantically heaving as she tried to rise.

  And the sun rose above the horizon.

  “No!” Madam shrieked. The sun's rays slammed into the monster as if she'd been hit by a flamethrower. Her black robes ignited and the lich began to roll frantically around on the ground, screaming and roaring in rage and fear.

  “How's that for a hard death?” Simon yelled at her.

  Bene-Dunn-Gal came free of her grip and flew through the air to land at the wizard's feet. He picked it up gratefully.

  “Good job,” he muttered to it. Bene-Dunn-Gal seemed to purr in response, obviously pleased with itself.

  The lich rolled and thrashed and struggled against her destruction. As her robes burned away, the awful skeletal body beneath was gruesomely revealed. The bones, covered with scant shreds of skin, turned black in the merciless sunlight. Madam shrieked her pain and fury in a hideous gibbering voice

  Silently, Simon and Clara and the townspeople watched the lich slowly disintegrate, her cries fading as the relentless sunlight slowly burned her to ashes. The greasy stench of burnt, papery flesh made Simon gag and clap his hands over his nose and mouth.

  “Gods help us,” Clara prayed fervently as she watched in horror.

  The undead's bones began to collapse but the lich reared up one last time, her clawed hands groping toward the wizard as she tried to pull her ruined body toward him.

  “This isn't over, wizard,” she screamed at him. Her once-blazing eyes were no more than pits of charcoal, yet somehow Simon felt their hateful gaze catch his own.

  “This isn't over! My masters will not allow you to upset their plans, insect. Others will come, and when they do, they will make you beg for death. You'll see.” She laughed, a deadly, chilling sound. “Oh yes. You'll see.”

  A final groping lunge and then her body fell in on itself and her skull shattered into shards of smoking bone.

  Simon watched, stone-faced, until the last of her bones stopped thei
r unholy quivering. When it was done, Simon slung his staff over his shoulder with a relieved sigh and looked at Aeris with a small, pained smile.

  The elemental threw his hands in the air.

  “If I could have a heart attack, you'd have killed me by now.”

  Chapter 11

  Simon, Clara and the other townspeople began the sorry task of gathering up the bodies of the fallen. They carried them gently to the town hall and laid them side by side in the center of the room, covering them with blankets so that they looked like they were merely sleeping.

  Once the sun had risen, Virginia, Eric, Anna and Gerard had returned from the back gate. They were shocked at the carnage and the loss of eight of their neighbors.

  Richard's death hit them all particularly hard. He had been in the original group to greet the four when they'd first escaped from their captivity at the brutal hands of old world humans.

  Anna was overcome with grief and was led away by Virginia. Eric and Gerard, grim-faced and silent, joined Simon at the main gate to help sweep away the remains of the undead. He told them about the confrontation with the lich as they worked.

  Kronk helpfully created a hole in the frozen earth and the burned bones, ashes and bits of smoking hay were pushed into it. He filled it in afterward and the only remaining evidence of the attack was the damage to the walls and the gap where the gates used to be.

  The three of them leaned on the brooms they'd been using and stared in exhaustion at the wall.

  “Now what?” Eric asked, trembling a bit with fatigue. Like Gerard and Simon, his face was streaked with dirt and soot and criss-crossed by lines of sweat.

  “Now we repair the damage,” came a voice from beside them. The three young men looked down and met the eyes of a smiling Kronk.

  “I will summon my friends and we will rebuild the wall. And then we will dig the moat around the town.”

  He folded his arms and looked at the trio sternly.

  “Master, you and your friends should get cleaned up and rest. We will handle this.”