by Ben Hale
“Triskella?”
How do you know my name? she growled, causing Beauty to retreat a step.
“I was there when Jack freed you from the dark elves,” she said, her tone placating.
The reaver cocked her head to the side. An ally of Jack’s is an ally of mine.
Shouts rang out as the other forces caught sight of the reaver, instinctively closing ranks. Crossbowmen hastily armed their weapons while the rock trolls and barbarians leapt to the front, their weapons pointed at the huge reaver. Triskella sank onto her haunches and swiveled her head to Beauty.
I’m here to kill an army, the reaver said, I’d rather it not be Jack’s.
Beauty leapt in front of her and raised her hand to the army. “This is Triskella, and she’s here for the same reason we are.”
The captain from Griffin called out, “It will turn on us. We won’t fight beside a devil beast.”
The reaver snarled and the man stumbled back. “You fight with her, or you go your own way,” Beauty said.
The captain spit on the earth but reluctantly shook his head. “We have our orders.”
“Even if Jack forged them,” Thalidon murmured, hiding a smile.
Thorvaldur and Golic exchanged a look, and then Golic nodded. “If Triskella is willing, she can lead the charge.”
It will be my pleasure, Triskella said.
Thalidon nodded. “It seems we are just waiting on Jack.”
“He’s not coming,” Beauty said.
Thalidon raised an eyebrow. “Where is he?”
A distant shout drew her attention and Beauty strode to the edge of Seastone, leaning over to peer at the army gathered on the beach below. They had begun to shout and smash weapons on shields, clearly itching for the battle to begin. As the light of dawn spilled onto the area Thorvaldur released a chuckle of anticipation.
“It appears they have underestimated Jack’s resourcefulness.”
Beauty turned to Golic. “Your job is to distract them.”
“With what Jack has brought?” Golic swept his hand at the army and grinned. “We’ll crush them.”
“Just be careful,” she said.
“Then where are you going?” he asked.
“I have another assignment,” Beauty replied, stepping away from the cliff.
“Alone?” Thalidon asked.
In answer, Beauty turned to Inna and Aranis. “I’m supposed to take Inna and Aranis with me, if they’re willing.”
“Where to?” Inna asked.
“I cannot say,” Beauty replied.
Aranis’s shrug was barely visible within her shadow cloak. “My pet calls? I come.”
Inna hesitated, but her gaze swept across the army in Seastone. “I suppose I want to see what Jack has planned.” She sheathed her sword and stepped to Beauty.
Beauty nodded to Golic and embraced him one last time, murmuring into his ear. “Stay safe, brother.”
“You as well, sister,” Golic murmured back.
Beauty withdrew and nodded to the others. Then she turned and led Inna and Aranis to the wagon holding the Gate. As she reached it Golic began to call out orders, and one by one the forces fell into line, forming up behind the road that descended to the village. Beyond them the peak of the Necrolith cast a shadow onto Seastone.
“They’ll be fine,” Inna said.
“I’m not worried for them,” Beauty said. “I’m worried for Jack.”
At the head of the army, the black reaver released a thundering roar and bounded down the road to the beach. As Triskella dropped onto the road the army filed after her, and Beauty met Golic’s eyes before he too descended out of sight.
“Where are we going?” Aranis asked.
Beauty climbed into the wagon and pointed to the mirror. “Through that.”
Inna shook her head in confusion. “A mirror?”
“A Gate,” Beauty said. “A relic from the ancient race that connects to others of the same make.”
“A portal?” Aranis said, her lips twitching. “How intriguing.”
Beauty stepped to the mirror and examined the border. Several runes marked the edge of the glass, each bearing a different symbol. One linked to the guildhall in Griffin, another to a guildhall in the Evermist. Other runes marked the edges but they never connected to anything. She pulled out the list of instructions she’d received from Jack and held them aloft, reading the last item again.
Use the Gate. Press the rune at the top.
She examined the top border of the mirror, peering at the scrollwork. But no runes adorned the top. She ran her finger along the surface, casting a touch charm to enhance the feeling in her fingers. At the center her fingers brushed across a slight indentation in the gold. She smiled as she pushed it, and a hidden glyph glowed to life. The glass of the mirror rippled and returned to her reflection.
“How many secrets do you have, Jack?” she murmured, but realized she would probably never know.
She exchanged a look with the two assassins and then stepped through the glass. As always, the mirror flowed across her body like water, depositing her on the other side. To her surprise she stood in a cell made of dark stone, one with a window. Through the opening she spotted Seastone from another direction, and realized that she was inside the Necrolith.
And she was not alone.
“Beauty,” Skorn said, standing on the other side of the bars. “Your arrival is right on schedule.”
Chapter 43: Trapped
Beauty whirled to the Gate but Inna and Aranis were already stepping through. The silver mirror trembled and then disintegrated, leaving the three of them trapped in the cell. Skorn held aloft a small hand mirror and smirked.
“It’s a hand Gate,” he said. “Apparently Jack stole it when he took the beacon from the Vault of the Eternals. It may not be as powerful as the other Gates, but it has given your guildmaster an advantage—until I captured Ero with it.”
Across the corridor a figure stirred and stepped to the bars of a different cell. Still dressed in white robes, Ero appeared disheveled and worn, his clothing rumpled and dirty. His smile was weary as he met Beauty’s gaze.
“Hello, Thera,” he said. “I wish you had not come.”
Skorn laughed at Ero, sweeping his hand at the two cells. “For all Jack’s scheming he cannot defeat me. I have his weapon and his greatest allies.”
“I don’t see Jack,” Inna said, folding her arms. “If he’s still out there, he’s still fighting.”
Skorn’s smile turned into a sneer. “Don’t you see? I have everything. Even if he infiltrates the Necrolith, he would have to fight through a thousand soldiers, and then face Oragon and Gallow.”
Beauty’s hand tightened on her sword. “Jack’s army is greater than yours.”
Skorn’s features tightened with anger. “I admit I was unprepared for Jack’s resourcefulness, but when the Necrolith reaches full power it will unleash its beacon . . . and everything in the vicinity will be obliterated.”
“You would kill your own army?” Beauty demanded.
“He cares nothing for their lives,” Ero said. “There are all slaves to him.”
Skorn turned to him. “They were once slaves to you.”
Ero looked away and did not respond. Skorn’s smile turned smug and he rotated back to Beauty’s cell, his eyes settling on Aranis.
“You are a new ally of Jack,” he said. “But I know your name. Aranis, legendary assassin of the Deep, slayer of thousands . . . outcast.”
A thread of the dark elf’s cloak began to twirl a ring dagger, and abruptly it streaked for a gap between the bars, aimed for Skorn’s chest. A wall of light blossomed into view, causing the ring dagger to bounce off and clatter back into the cell. The barrier faded amidst Skorn’s chuckle.
“I built this to contain anyone,” he said. “You will not escape, not unless you join me.”
Aranis folded her arms, her expression inscrutable beneath her cowl. Skorn’s voice turned persuasive as he leaned clo
se to the bars, his scarred features twisting with desire.
“You have so little in common with these people,” he said to the dark elf. “They will never be the allies you seek, or the family you crave. Join me, and I will show you realms you cannot imagine. Kill them to prove your loyalty, and you will have your freedom.”
Inna eased away from Aranis and Beauty took the hint, drifting away from the black fury visible in the dark elf’s lips. The shadow cloak picked up on its owner’s agitation and began to tremble, twirling ring daggers into view. Then she spit on the floor.
“I would not betray my pet.”
Beauty released a held breath, realizing she had nearly died. Skorn sighed in regret and turned away.
“A pity,” he said. “Enjoy the devastation of your friends. Then I will let Gallow and Oragon have you.”
He turned and strode away, his heels clicking on the dark floor as he departed. When he was gone Beauty stepped to the bars and stabbed a finger at Ero, but hesitated, her gaze scanning the room.
“There are no listening charms,” Ero said, understanding her caution. “My brother believes these cells keep us impotent.”
“Where’s Jack?” she demanded.
“He was supposed to be here by now,” Ero said, and passed a hand over his face. “He was supposed to free me before you arrived.”
“At least we know Skorn hasn’t killed him,” Inna said, and shrugged when Beauty looked to her. “Skorn is the type to gloat. If he’d killed Jack, he would have told us.”
“I hate the ancients,” Aranis said.
“We all do,” Beauty said without taking her eyes off Ero.
She turned and examined the cell. Although large, its walls and floor were polished smooth. A tiny privy sat ensconced in an alcove at the back, but it afforded no place of egress. She crept around the edge of the cell, tapping her blade and using an amplification charm to listen. To her dismay the dull reverberation suggested the walls to be several feet thick, far beyond what she could damage even with a strength spell. The floor and ceiling were equally as dense.
She stepped to the window and touched it, but the material was not made of glass. Instead the window was fashioned from aquaglass. She dropped her hearing charm and amplified her touch, and felt the tingle that suggested the window carried magic to shield it from breaking. A ring dagger smashed into it, causing her to flinch away.
“It’s unbreakable,” Beauty said.
“Doesn’t mean I won’t try,” Aranis said. Her voice turned tense as she muttered. “I hate being confined.”
Beauty returned her attention to the window but her gaze was drawn to the village below. The black reaver reached the final bend in the road and charged, plowing into the portcullis guarding the gate. Steel rent and snapped, and stone shattered as the beast plowed through the barricade. As if through cotton the muffled screams of men echoed up to Beauty, and the black reaver rampaged through Skorn’s line.
Golic and the barbarians followed in Triskella’s wake, flowing in a mass of armored bodies to widen the breach. The ten rock trolls struck the left flank, their hardened flesh deflecting arrows with ease.
The rest of the ramshackle army charged into the opening, striking at cultists and Talinorian mercenaries with surprising zeal. Although the thief forces were outnumbered, the presence of the reaver, the rock trolls, and the barbarians tipped the scales.
The reaver caught a sword in her paw and wrenched it from its owner. Slicing him in two with his own blade, she hurled the blade into a knot of cultists, the sword cleaving through flesh like a guillotine until it shattered against a shield.
Thorvaldur swung his hammer with tremendous strength, crushing shields, bodies, and bones. He roared, galvanizing his people to action, the group fighting with supreme skill. Beauty had been raised to fight with her people, but the skill of the rock trolls robbed her of breath.
With his twin-headed axe, Golic stood out among the mass of writhing bodies. The weapon plunged through cult members and barbarians, leaving still forms in Golic’s wake. Barbarian and beast, ally and foe, all retreated from his might.
But Skorn’s army was not alone either.
Mages cast their magic and stones rose from the beach, forming ranks of golems that charged the thief army. Fire blossomed into wolves and lions, and even a lumbering giant. The thief army cried out in dismay and their charge slowed. Then Beauty spotted Gwen and Rista.
The two mages stepped in, casting a giant golem between them. Rista raised it from the beach, the earth rising and formed into shape. Seawater ascended the golem’s body as Gwen added her magic, the water hardening into armor and a glimmering sword. The greater golem lumbered toward the lesser golems, cleaving the stone entities in two. Dust exploded from the contact.
Apparently recognizing the thief line could not be breached, archers aimed and fired, sending arrows angling for Gwen and Rista. Sirani stepped into their path, sending a gust of wind that knocked the volley back into Skorn’s forces.
Captain Herrick dodged past the giant golem and charged Gwen and Rista, his two companions cutting through a line of Griffin soldiers. He raised his blade to Gwen just as the girl turned, her eyes widening in horror.
Ursana appeared and struck the captain in the throat with a mailed fist. Herrick coughed and stumbled, and Ursana raised her crossbow, firing a single bolt inches from the other mercenary’s chest. The force of the bolt sent him skidding across the battlefield, dead before he came to a stop. Ursana rotated to the third but the man was too quick, knocking the crossbow from Ursana’s hands. She ducked as it fell, and rose inside the man’s guard, driving a knife into his stomach. Then she spun to face Herrick, who sneered at her, darting in with his sword. From within the Necrolith, Beauty smashed her fist against the glass, her helplessness churning into fury.
Ursana appeared tiny before the legendary captain, but she casually flicked a second knife at her feet, where her crossbow lay. The blade struck the rune at the top, firing the weapon at Herrick’s leg, nearly tearing it from his body. He went down, hard, and she scooped up her crossbow to fire again, burying a bolt in Herrick’s neck. She then turned and took up position beside Gwen, exchanging a determined look with the girl.
Beauty sighed in relief and wiped the sheen of sweat from her forehead. She’d thought she would witness Ursana die, but the girl managed to hold her own. Gordon joined Rista, and the quartet anchored the heart of the thief army.
Anger burned in Beauty’s veins as she watched her friends and family battle. Unable to endure the sight, she spun away from the view. She strode to the bars and tested them, searching the enchanted barrier for any hint of weakness.
“We must wait,” Ero said.
“I’m not waiting anymore,” Beauty snapped back.
“Trust your guildmaster,” Ero said. “He will be here.”
“But he’s not,” Beauty growled.
While she searched, Aranis leaned against the wall, cleaning her nails with a ring dagger. The motion was tense, as if she struggled to control herself. Inna searched as well, her motions becoming more urgent as she scanned the cell. Beauty’s anger boiled over and she snapped at Aranis.
“Care to help us?”
“Why?” Aranis said.
“Because time is running out,” Beauty growled.
Aranis’s voice was cold. “Jack will be here.”
Beauty turned on her but the retort died on her lips when the floor shuddered. She darted to the wall and craned to see the base of the Necrolith. Threads of light glowed to life inside the pyramid, ascending through the surface of the stone, rising toward the obelisk. The light pulsed with power, and Beauty spotted mages chained to the tubes of energy on the beach.
Cultists snapped whips at the bound mages, forcing them to increasing efforts, and the magic flowed into the Necrolith, the threads of power rising into the beacon, ascending toward the peak.
Beauty retreated as the magic passed their cell, the walls lighting up with threa
ds of power. Pulsing with green light, the threads grew brighter. The cell shuddered again as the Necrolith came to life, and a burst of power exploded from the obelisk, streaking into the sky. The magic drew on the surrounding light, causing the entire beach to darken.
Beauty turned to ask Ero what was happening, but Ero stood at his own window, his expression oddly excited. Then Ero darted to the privy in his cell and withdrew a small package from behind it. He strode to the bars and fastened it onto the metal.
“It appears our time has come,” Ero said.
Ero withdrew and Beauty took the hint, retreating to the rear of the cell. Then Ero pulled a hand crossbow from the folds of his robe and took aim, firing at the package on the bars. It plunged into the package, releasing an inky liquid that dripped to the floor. The liquid poured faster and faster, creating a puddle that suddenly lifted up.
And formed a hand.
Beauty’s eyes widened as the hand extended from the puddle, grasping a bar, pulling itself off the floor. A head came next, followed by a second arm and a narrow torso. The puddle diminished as the creature formed legs, morphing into a figure of ink holding the bars.
“What is that?” Inna asked.
Ero responded without taking his eyes from it. “An anti-magic entity.”
Beauty gasped, shock binding her tongue. Every type of magic could create an entity, but a sentient being of anti-magic was notoriously the most difficult—and expensive. It required dozens of skilled gnome mages and months of time. Ero noticed Beauty’s expression and smiled.
“Paid for by the Church of Light,” he said.
The entity placed its face on the enchanted barrier and inhaled, drinking the magic like it was fine ale. Built to withstand any strike, the barrier shimmered and darkened, drawn into the anti-magic entity. The being latched onto the magic and devoured it with frightening hunger. The bars disintegrated and the entity stepped free, immediately going for Beauty’s cell, devouring its barrier even faster than the first.
The entity seemed to swell, growing an inch before ambling down the corridor, latching onto a conduit of power pulsing in the wall. Beauty stepped over the steaming remains of her bars and joined Ero in the hall.
