Salvation (Scars of the Sundering Book 3)

by Hans Cummings

  The minotaur trotted forward. He waved for them to join him before crouching and crawling into the brush.

  The rest of the companions did likewise, following his path though gnarled vines and branches until they crested a small rise. Gisella heard moans and the shuffling of dead feet before she saw them.

  Like an obscenity directed at Calliome itself, Zamora jutted upward through the moor. Curved, twisted spires thrust into the sky like fingers clawing at the heavens and blocking the glare from a fell, pulsating light at the top of the tower. Blackened and withered foliage surrounded the tower, succumbing to the perversion of scores of undead shuffling around it. They infested the surroundings like rats in an old grain mill. Beneath gray, rumbling skies, mist clung to the shrubs and vines covering the ground.

  Gisella adjusted the straps on her armor as Scout Stonehammer emerged from a nearby thicket. The dwarf frowned and shook her head. “It’s like that all over. This place crawls with undead. I can’t get an accurate count since they keep moving, but I’m guessing it’s just about everyone who left Vlorey over the last couple of months, all those drowners, too.”

  She shivered. Lord Fenwick pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. “It shouldn’t be this cold, either, huh?”

  “We should have brought an army.”

  Pancras snorted. “More fodder for her legion. Every one of ours who dies becomes one of hers.”

  The minotaur crept forward to crouch alongside Gisella. “That unnatural chill is the taint of demons.”

  “That’s what I feel.” Delilah hugged her knees to her chest. “It’s oppressive, like all the joy has been sucked out of the world.”

  “All the color, too.” Alysha pointed at the sky and the forest in the distance. “They’re leeching the life out of everything here.”

  “Definitely demons.” Gisella felt them, too. Being aware of their presence, without seeing them felt almost worse than facing them. “Qaliah will be glad she didn’t come.”

  “Based on what happened last time”—Pancras glanced at the Golden Slayer—“I think we can all be glad of that.”

  “Well, Wizards.” Fenwick cleared his throat. “How do we defeat them? Demons are far beyond anything Valora and I are used to fighting.”

  “I like the army idea.” Scout Stonehammer’s eyes flicked to the tower and then to Gisella. “Let’s raze the place to the ground. I don’t fancy becoming part of her undead legion.”

  “Nor do I.” Pancras lifted Shatterskull. “However, this situation requires a finesse more subtle than brute force, I think.”

  The Golden Slayer observed the undead shuffling about the tower grounds in the distance. There did not seem to be any pattern to their wanderings and no patrol route that she detected. They behaved as though they awaited a command from their master with no instructions regarding what to do in the meantime.

  “Watch my back.” Pancras used his maul to push himself to his feet and strode into the midst of the undead. With snarls and howls of fury, they turned and advanced on him.

  The minotaur raised Shatterskull, and a blinding flare radiated from its head. Any undead touched by the light disintegrated into ash. Ghouls partially caught in the beam howled in anguish as their arms and legs were purified.

  Pancras gestured to them. “I will clear a path. Follow the light!”

  The Golden Slayer and her sister scrambled to catch up to the minotaur. Rotting corpses moaned and lunged at them. When they touched Aita’s light, they crumbled into dust.

  “Kalee’steen enoch leetiké goyna!” Azure light flooded the decrepit field as the archmage raised her staff. Scores of furry, blue boggins popped into existence around the drak and charged into the hordes of undead, yipping and snarling. The pack of boggins drew attention away from the companions as they followed in the minotaur’s path.

  Lord Fenwick and Scout Stonehammer followed behind Delilah. The Justicar lingered, fending off a ravenous ghoul while the dwarf’s stubby legs pumped in a furious effort to catch up to the rest of the group. Gisella turned and thrust her spear into the ghoul. Unable to penetrate forged steel, its filthy nails scratched the finish on Fenwick’s breastplate.

  An icicle flew between Fenwick and Gisella, impaling the ghoul’s head. It flopped to the ground, writing and hissing. Several other ghouls took advantage of the opportunity and fell upon their fallen kin, rending its rotten flesh with their blackened talons.

  They caught up to Pancras at the base of the tower. He held Shatterskull aloft, covering as much area as possible with Aita’s light. The companions crowded around him as the minotaur pointed at a banded oak door. “It’s locked up tight.”

  Alysha examined the door. “Well maintained for a ruin. Pity. Stand back.”

  She leveled her staff at the door as the rest of them withdrew as close to the edge of the light as they dared. Gangs of skeletons and ghouls circled them, most now wary of the light, although many still reached toward them, rewarded with limbs that fell to dust.

  The Frost Queen’s staff glowed with a fierce emerald light. “Maaxo dynami velos!” A green bolt of arcane energy flew from her staff and impacted the door. Rattling on its hinges, it splintered.

  Alysha lowered her staff and stepped aside, gesturing to the door. “Justicar, if you please?”

  “Gladly.” Fenwick raised his shield and raced toward the door. He threw himself into it, bursting through like a raging bull.

  The companions entered the tower’s interior. Deep shadows concealed the edges of the room. Delilah and Alysha illuminated their staffs, aiming them at the walls, which sparkled as though covered in gems. Gisella touched one of the glimmering spots. She noted flecks of quartz embedded in the stone reflected the mages’ light.

  Gisella ran her fingers along the wall, discovering the quartz fragments composed oblong carvings. “Are these glyphs? Runes of some sort?”

  Alysha joined her sister while Pancras ensured Aita’s protection covered the doorway. Delilah’s voice filled the background as she conjured a column of whirling blades to block the way and guard it against undead that might follow.

  “Gly…no, they’re eyes.” The Frost Queen examined the block adjacent to the one Gisella traced. “It’s covered in eyes!”

  The Golden Slayer recoiled, although to her hands, the surface felt like carved stone. She looked closer. Eyes of various sizes were carved onto every block Gisella viewed. Some sections contained one or two large eyes, others half-a-dozen or more smaller eyes. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

  “Now I feel like we’re being watched.” Her eyes flicked to her sister.

  Alysha frowned. “That’s not funny.”

  Valora walked past the sisters and examined a depression at the bottom of the tower’s spiral stairs. “Fennie, what’s this? I see something.”

  Fenwick approached the dwarf woman. Alysha thrust her staff toward the depression. Nestled within and covered in a thick layer of dust lay a pile of bleached, curved bones. They appeared to be much like a human’s ribs, however, thicker and longer. Gisella leaned over the depression alongside Valora and Fenwick. She noticed many teeth lying among the curved bones.

  The Lord Justice glanced up at the others. “These aren’t human bones. Maybe it’s not a complete skeleton, but I’d remember encountering a creature such as this.”

  “If they’re not walking about”—Alysha moved her staff away—“they’re not important.”

  “Ocularus.” Valora’s voice was only a whisper, yet it seemed to echo off the stark walls of the tower.

  “I’ve not heard of such creatures.” Alysha’s moved her staff closer to illuminate the bones.

  “The elders of Korbbaddan tell tales of orb-like creatures that dwell in deep caverns beneath the mountains and refer to them as ocularuses.” The dwarf shivered and stood. “Great orbs, covered in eyes, wielding powerfully destructive magic. They tell us ocularuses eat naughty dwarf children and can see in all directions even through stone or other sol
id structures.”

  Valora turned and wrapped her arms around Fenwick’s leg. He knelt to comfort her. “Well, this bugger’s long dead.”

  “Pancras’s light show announced our presence.” Delilah stood at the bottom of the stairs and motioned to the group. “Shall we? There can’t be much to this tower. Let’s put this lich in the ground so we can go home.”

  Gisella glanced at the doorway. The whirling blades chopped and sliced any ghoul daring enough to attempt passing through. Their howls and cries of fury formed a ghastly chorus.

  “How long is that going to last?” Gisella pointed at the barrier with her spear.

  “A couple of hours if I don’t dismiss it.” Delilah nodded at Pancras. The minotaur lowered Shatterskull, and Aita’s light faded.

  Gisella took the stairs. “Fenwick and I will lead the way. Pancras follows us. Then Alysha and Delilah. Valora should cover the rear.”

  Fenwick held her arm. “Wait. Let Valora and the archmage go first. You can still use your spear over their heads. I’ll take the rear.” He ushered the rest of his companions onto the stairs.

  Gisella crept along behind the drak and the dwarf. Even standing a few steps behind them, she understood what Fenwick intended. Neither the dwarf nor the drak competed with the Watchmaiden’s height.

  Gisella moved as quietly as she was able, although between Fenwick’s armor and the clip-clop of the minotaur’s hooves on stone, she couldn’t imagine there was anyone in Zamora who couldn’t hear them approach.

  The stairs widened as they spiraled up the interior of the tower’s wall. Another door barred their progress. By Gisella’s reckoning, they should have neared the top of the structure. She confirmed her suspicion by peering down the central shaft.

  Scout Stonehammer hooked the head of her axe on the door handle. She glanced at the group? “Ready?”

  Gisella raised her spear. “Do it.”

  The dwarf pulled down on her axe and kicked the door open. It swung on its hinges and bashed into the wall. The companions poured through the doorway.

  Open to the sky, twisting spires at the top of the tower surrounded the flat roof, its surface marred only by channels, leading away from the center. A flash of lightning preceded the crack of thunder, and the sky opened up.

  Icy rain brought with it a chill even though the air itself felt like a sweltering Vlorey heatwave. The droplets plinked off their metal armor and soaked into the wizards’ robes. The slayer’s eyes were drawn to the center of the roof. Gisella shivered as her blood ran cold.

  Pulsating green and violet light spilled forth from a jagged rip in the sky and illuminated the top of the tower. In the center of the rooftop, lay the withered body of a naked woman suspended by inky tendrils stretching to the tops of the tower’s spires. The coils formed nebulous shackles around her wrists and ankles as they held her, arms and legs splayed. Dark, smoky wisps swirled around her, following the contours of her body. Her head hung slack, surrounded by threads of yellowed, silver hair. A dim, ruby glow smoldered in her sunken eye sockets as she raised her head to regard the intruders.

  She smiled, her sharpened teeth gleaming white against her blackened lips. “Welcome to Zamora.” The Lich Queen’s voice cracked like autumn leaves crunching underfoot. “I've been waiting for you.”

  ***

  Pancras avoided looking directly at the Lich Queen and instead focused on the fissure hanging in the sky above her. Viewing it caused familiar, unsettled feelings. The air around the gash shifted and twisted, distortions in reality caused by the tear’s connection to the elemental chaos that formed Calliome. Despite fixing his attention on the chaos rift, Pancras felt a force pulling him toward the Lich Queen, not an attraction exactly, rather a compulsion to go to her. The smoky wisps crawling over her body flowed down and away from her, forming hulking, bat-winged figures as they descended. More joined them from the fissure above.

  All possessed one or two canine-featured, desiccated heads. The demons towered over even the minotaur. As the beasts advanced, the bonelord’s companions raised their weapons and spread out.

  Lord Fenwick and Valora stayed close to each other as they advanced on a four-armed, fire-snorting dog-demon. Fenwick lunged first, a half-hearted swing to draw the demon’s attention. It clawed at him, raking its talons across his shield as Valora ducked under its arm and buried her axes in the back of its knees.

  Archmage Delilah and the Frost Queen double-teamed a fiery demon, wreathed in flames, attacking it with alternating blasts of ice and lightning. Although it howled as each attack slammed into it, the duo did not seem cause it significant harm.

  The bonelord swung Shatterskull in an arc, smashing it on the head of a sinuous demon moving in for a low bite. The empowered weapon seared flesh as the beast slammed into the stone rooftop. Thrashing and howling with its head trapped underneath the maul, the demon smacked Pancras’s leg and sent him sprawling.

  He scrambled, pulling Shatterskull along until he regained his footing. He ended up face to face with the ram-horned, four-armed demon.

  It snarled and lunged.

  ***

  Gisella brandished her spear as a flaming, dog-faced demon approached her. The beast snarled and swiped at her weapon, but she jerked it to the side as she thrust, catching it along the throat.

  Steaming, black ichor sprayed as it roared and clutched its neck. The Golden Slayer lowered her head and rammed the beast in the chest with her helmet, knocking it off its feet.

  Jumping on it, Gisella brought her full weight to bear upon her spear, impaling its torso. The demon thrashed and flung her off. She managed to keep hold of her weapon, jerking it free before she hit the rooftop and rolled.

  The demon held its talons over the wound and retreated. She moved to pursue, but the flaming lash of a different towering fiery demon intercepted her, wrapping itself around her ankle. It yanked, pulling her feet out from under her.

  Gisella fell and grunted. She felt the lash strike her back again and again as she crawled toward her spear. Its heat penetrated her armor. The Golden Slayer kicked her legs in the air to right herself and caught the next lash on her spear. She spun it and pulled, but the demon’s iron grip held fast.

  A blast of ice hit the demon’s face, breaking off bits of stone-like flesh. The beast’s attention turned to its new attacker. The Frost Queen, relentless in her attack, threw icy shard after icy shard at the demon until its chest quivered like a porcupine.

  To Gisella’s side, one of the two-headed demons kicked Valora, sending the dwarf tumbling across the roof. It rushed after her.

  Leveling her spear at the foul creature, the Golden Slayer charged.

  ***

  Pancras ducked the demon’s claw as it swiped at his head. He thrust Shatterskull upward, ramming it into the beast’s face. It howled and staggered backward as a spray of ichor rained on the minotaur.

  Pancras pursued, Aita’s power rending long gashes in the demon’s chest as the beast clawed at the wounds. While holding the weapon against its target, Pancras noticed that each of the inky, nebulous ropes suspending the Lich Queen seemed to be anchored at the top of each connecting spire by translucent stones.

  “The stones! Break the stones at the top of the spires!” he shouted to Gisella and Valora, pointing at the nearest one. The Golden Slayer nodded and hurled her spear.

  The weapon sped toward its target, its steel tip shattering the crystal into a shower of knife-like shards. The tendril dissipated. The Lich Queen’s left arm, released from its bindings, fell slack.

  On the opposite side of the rooftop, Valora dove beneath the legs of one of the demons, hacking at its ankles as she passed. She rolled into a crouch and pitched one of her axes at the spire above her. Her weapon spun through the air, smashing the crystal just as a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky.

  Her arms no longer restrained, the Lich Queen’s upside-down body swung, slamming into the tower’s roof. Another demon lunged at Pancras, but he saw the beast at
the periphery of his vision and brought Shatterskull up just in time. The demon’s hand closed around the maul. Its flesh sizzled and decorticated as energy, infused into the weapon by the goddess of death, flowed into the demon. It screamed, the sound like boulders being dragged over gravel, and released its grip.

  Raising Shatterskull above his head, Pancras bounded toward the Lich Queen as she climbed to her feet. The demon spread its wings and gave chase, each step of its clawed foot shaking the tower and showering rubble from the crumbling spires.

  Despite blasts of azure fire slamming into the demon from behind, it closed on Pancras and swiped low, catching the bonelord in the back of his leg. The minotaur fell, and Shatterskull flew from his hands. His calf burned like fire, and he observed raw, pink muscle twitching in the open wound.

  Delilah called his name and redoubled her efforts, loosing blast after blast at the demon. Alysha joined in with the archmage. Alternating bolts of fire and ice drove the demon backward toward the edge of the rooftop.

  Pancras left the beast to them and pulled himself along the roof toward his fallen weapon.

  “No!”

  He heard the cry a moment before a burning hand snatched him. A half-melted visage snarled and snapped. Pancras writhed and twisted in a desperate attempt to avoid the demon’s jaws. It grabbed him with its other hand and bared its teeth. Its wrinkled eye, a ragged ruin, dangled from its socket where Shatterskull’s power had burned it.

  Pancras worked his withered arm free. He slapped and punched as the demon brought him toward its mouth, feeling his fist impact the roof of the beast’s maw as it bit down.

  The minotaur screamed.

  Jagged teeth crushed bone and sliced through leathery flesh. Pancras’s eyes bulged as the demon bit clean through his arm. He heard more shouting below him before he felt himself fall. Fenwick and Gisella slashed and stabbed the demon, driving it backward.

  Stars exploded in Pancras’s vision as he hit the rooftop. He struggled to breathe. Finally, he rolled over on his stomach. The Lich Queen stood near, her legs still bound by slack tethers to the remaining two spires. She stared at him, her face locked in a rictus of terror.