Legends of Windemere: 03 - Family of the Tri-Rune

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “That sounds like his usual level of skill,” Luke states with a laugh. “It’s funny how Sari finds another survivor of her clan at a time when we need help.”

  “I was behind the thieves guild,” Kayn admits, grinning proudly.

  “And you happen to be willing to drop everything to help a pretty gypsy,” Luke retorts.

  “You’re right to be suspicious, so I should be honest,” Kayn replies, adjusting his leather gloves. “Sari and I were partners before our clan was destroyed. So, I’m very interested in the man who holds her heart. I’ll be watching you to make sure you’re worthy of a woman like Sari, but I mean you no harm.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for that,” Luke says. He smiles at Kayn, who smiles back, but there is palpable tension between them.

  “For a man who ignores Sari’s advances, you seem oddly protective of her,” Kayn mentions, ignoring the urging coughs from Timoran and Tzefira. “If you really want to be her defender, I recommend you actually enjoy her company.”

  Luke experimentally spins his sabers and looks toward the basement stairs. “If you want to be with Sari then go ahead, Kayn. She was your partner before I met her, so it’s only fair. In fact, you have my blessing.”

  “I’m no longer the man Sari needs in her life,” Kayn whispers, unable to hide the sadness in his voice. “I merely want to make sure the man she chooses is one who will treat her well.”

  “I’ll try my best, but it’s rather complicated,” Luke awkwardly responds, feeling the last of the tingling leave his limbs. He glances at Tzefira and taps his sabers against his shoulders. “We can discuss this after we get out of here. How are we going to free the others?”

  Kayn sighs as he examines Timoran, who is patiently waiting to be rescued. The gypsy lets his eyes drift along the chains to where they are secured to the walls by thick iron rings. He knows he can climb up to the central lock on Timoran’s chest to pick it, but the barbarian would plummet to the ground as soon as he was freed. The thought of dragging the heavy warrior through the graveyard makes Kayn cringe and shudder, which causes Luke to smirk. The gypsy turns to find the forest tracker staring at the barbarian as well.

  “Maybe we can free him and have him fall on the Lich,” Kayn suggests with a grin.

  “That’s a horrible way to make a new friend,” Luke responds, patting the gypsy on the shoulder. “You get Tzefira out of that cage. I’ll get Nyx first and maybe I can get to Timoran through the attic.”

  “Sari already released Nyx and is helping her recover,” Kayn says as he approaches Tzefira’s cage. “We’ll need her as close to full strength as possible to get through the krypters. You only have to worry about the barbarian. Wait for my signal because both rescues might cause enough chaos to get the Lich’s attention.”

  “Great. Leave me with the heavy guy,” Luke mutters, sheathing his sabers and moving halfway up the stairs. He crouches on the edge of the steps and waits, keeping his eyes locked on Timoran.

  Kayn carefully examines Tzefira’s cage, which has fallen a few inches below the top of the hole. A sharp blade is close to her back and Kayn can see that she has accidentally rubbed against it several times. He considers lowering a rope to her, but there would be no way for her to get out of the cage without getting shredded herself on the blades. When Kayn hears a suspicious shuffling, he swiftly looks at Conrad struggling against his tight bonds. Kayn briefly considers handing Tzefira a very long rope, tying the other end to Conrad and throwing him out a high window. It would get the job done, but he is certain that, at the very least, Tzefira would not be happy with him.

  “You have any ideas?” the elven warrior asks from inside the hole. She bites her lower lip to stop herself from scratching her scars, the burning sensation driving her mad.

  “Nothing that I would like to attempt, milady,” Kayn answers, his eyes following the frayed rope to a rusty pulley. “I was thinking of replacing the rope, but that pulley would fall out of the wall if I put too much pressure on it. It doesn’t help that we’re steadily running out of time. Quick thinking was always Sari’s strength while I needed more time to plan and consider every factor.”

  “If you know that girl then I’m sure some of her has rubbed off on you,” Tzefira declares, hoping to urge Kayn into action. “Just look around and see if there’s a way to get what you want.”

  “It’s never that simple,” he mutters as he scans the room. “If only those blades weren’t around you or there was enough space around the cage to safely lift you up and out.”

  “I could solve that problem if I had my earthquaker staff,” she mentions, cursing as the blade cuts her back.

  Kayn’s eyes fall on the war staff sitting next to him and an idea forms in his mind. It is a risky and insane plan more suited to Sari than himself, but he fears too much time has been wasted. He signals for Luke to work on freeing Timoran and runs a rope down to Tzefira. She ties it to her waist and wraps it around her arms to help her control her movements once she is free of the cage.

  “How does this staff work?” Kayn asks as he ties the rope around his waist.

  “You strike the ground while holding it with both hands and a deep chasm will run along the ground,” Tzefira explains, bracing herself for what will be a frantic scramble to escape. “The harder you hit, the longer and deeper the chasm. I’m not sure how it’s going to help you here because it only runs in a straight line. You would need a circular chasm to make the entire shaft fall way.”

  “I know, but I hope the rope will solve that problem,” the gypsy admits as he steadies his breathing.

  Kayn is surprised to hear the flapping of large wings behind him and turns to see a griffin on the stairs. The beast flies to Timoran, trying its best to make as little noise as possible. The griffin grips the chains and folds her wings against her body as she takes a close look at the ceiling rings the iron bonds are attached to. A loud, metallic screech fills the air as the griffin uses her beak to pry one of the rings out of the stone. She growls when the ring comes free and Timoran grabs the beast by the fur with a lot more strength than the barbarian intended. The griffin works on the next ring, hurrying to release Timoran’s other arm.

  “Stop watching and get me out of here!” Tzefira shouts, snapping Kayn out of his trance. He takes several steps back and sets himself up for what he thinks is the perfect shot.

  Kayn lifts the war staff over his head and waits for the sound of the second ring being pried loose. As soon as he hears the chains falling off Timoran’s arm, he plunges the war staff into the ground. He aims the chasm, so that it skirts the edge of the hole and the blades near Tzefira’s back fall away. The shaking is enough to snap the rope holding her cage and she plummets, swinging into the avalanche of crumbling stone and dirt. She watches the lake of acid rise to embrace her until she is jerked back into the air. Chunks of stone and earth continue bouncing off the cage, heavily denting it until Tzefira is nearly folded in half. After what feels like an eternity, the cage erupts into the mausoleum and roll across the floor. She kicks the bottom off the cage and rushes to Kayn, who is on the other side of the room.

  “What is going on in here!?” the Lich screams as he emerges from the basement. He is surprised to see his prisoners have escaped and swiftly casts a personal barrier spell.

  The Lich is about to launch another spell when he is sent tumbling into the gaping hole by a blast of wind from the griffin’s wings. With a victorious screech, the griffin spiral dives at the chains around Timoran’s waist, the metal snapping from the force. She circles back to slow the barbarian’s descent and ease him to the floor. Once he is on the ground, Timoran rolls onto his back and uses his powerful legs to yank the two remaining rings out of the ceiling. He can hear the Lich angrily cursing from inside the hole, so he swings his legs to wield the heavy chains and rings like a makeshift flail. They shatter on the necrocaster’s barrier, leaving stinging cuts on Timoran’s ankles.

  “You’re the prisoner who destroyed my
spellbook,” the Lich hisses as his eyes focus on Kayn. “My master said you were insignificant, but it appears he underestimated you. I will take great pleasure in using your corpse as a servant.”

  “I don’t remember ever meeting you,” Kayn responds, hiding the smirk with a polite cough.

  The Lich whispers a spell, sending black lightning across the floor and forcing everyone to jump to the nearest perch. Timoran catches the griffin by the leg, but his added weight prevents her from evading a small tornado unleashed by the Lich. The twister swallows the griffin and hurls her against the wall above the stairs, her massive body cushioning Timoran from the worst of the impact. As they fall to the ground, the griffin changes back into Luke, who is caught by Timoran and placed on his shaky feet. The half-elf holds his left side where he can feel two broken ribs.

  Kayn and Tzefira take the opportunity to charge the Lich before he can turn toward them. They are almost on him when Conrad kicks Kayn in back of the knee and tackles Tzefira from behind. The former allies fall to the floor and roll down the stairs to the basement. Tzefira flips the decrepit calico over her head, hearing his bones snap against the hard stone. She tries to stab him in the leg, but he is nimble enough to run up the wall and clamber off the stairs. Conrad jumps between the Lich and Kayn, delivering a spin kick to the gypsy’s head. Kayn falls to his knees and grins at the sound of Conrad’s splintering ankle. The crazed, injured mercenary struggles to draw his sword and protect his undead master.

  “Nobody will harm my benefactor,” he announces in a raspy voice. “He gave me the power to take what’s mine. He saved me from the poison of my own arrow and gave me new life.”

  “You placed a soul binding spell on the arrow you reflected back at him,” Tzefira says, cautiously walking to Kayn and helping him up. She scratches at her neck until it bleeds and shakes the fresh blood onto the ground. “It seems you’re a lot more cunning than I gave you credit for.”

  “I swear I’ve heard someone say that to him before,” Luke mentions to Timoran, making the large man smile. “Stand down, Conrad, and let us finish this!”

  “Don’t threaten my benefactor!” the calico shrieks. His mouth opens so wide that his jaw dislocates and hangs from his face.

  “It seems my aura is too strong for you,” the Lich says in a voice full of concern. He reaches out to gently touch Conrad’s jaw and caress the back of the calico’s head. “I’m afraid you’re falling apart and there’s only one thing I can do to help you. It’s really the only way for you to be of any use to me. Do you wish to help your benefactor?”

  Conrad nods and whimpers from the pain pulsing through his body. The mercenary smiles when the Lich removes his hood, revealing a red-eyed skull with several cracks and wisps of white, filthy hair. Tzefira pulls Kayn back as the Lich’s mouth stretches until his lower jaw is on the floor. She signals for Luke and Timoran to look away and they quickly take cover while she drags Kayn behind a fallen pillar. Everyone listens to Conrad’s scream of joy and terror as he is violently shoved into the Lich’s mouth. The calico half-heartedly tries to fight back by flailing his rapier, but his body is too damaged for him to escape. He is helpless as the Lich chews him up like a tough piece of meat. The sounds of crunching bone and tearing flesh fills everyone with a sense of nausea and disgust.

  Luke is the first to risk a glance at the Lich, thankful that the monster’s mouth is returning to normal. Fallen scraps of Conrad are at the Lich’s feet along with the devoured warrior’s sword, which is bent and cracked. The others cautiously ready their weapons to block any attack the Lich attempts. They are stunned when flesh appears on the necrocaster’s head and hands, his body appearing to stitch itself back together. Instead of waiting to see the Lich’s next move, all of them hurry for the exit. Kayn pulls out a whistle and unleashes a high-pitched whine, causing a faint scuffling from the attic. Timoran swings his great axe onto his back and picks Luke up to leap over a gaping hole in the floor. As they land, Luke barely deflects a lance of bone that the Lich fires out of his sleeve.

  “We’re not done here,” the Lich ecstatically declares. His arms are a blur as he makes the gestures of a spell, creating a wall of bleeding bones in front of the exit.

  Kayn strikes the wall with the pommel of his dagger and the weapon explodes on impact, peppering his arm with metal shards. He nearly collapses from the excruciating pain until Tzefira catches him, draping his good arm over her shoulders. Nobody dares to touch the wall as the Lich gleefully drifts into the air and spins toward the center of the room. The gray, glowing symbol of a crucified skeleton holding a sword in one hand and a rose in the other appears under his feet. He slowly puts his hands together and loudly prays to the necrocaster god, Lorvis.

  “This building is going to be swarming with krypters and other undead,” Tzefira says as the ground shakes and cracks. “Can you get to the Lich, Timoran? The two of us are the only healthy ones and you’re faster than me.”

  “No need,” the barbarian claims as he smells burning air.

  A deafening explosion shatters the ceiling, burying the Lich under a pile of heavy rubble. The furniture from the attic falls onto the rocks, smashing into splinters that are scattered across the floor by their own forceful impact. Above the cloud of dust, Sari gently floats to the ground with Nyx clinging to her back. As they make their slow descent, Nyx unleashes a stream of roaring fire at the bone wall. Within seconds, the barrier turns bright red and crumbles into a pile of smoldering dust. Once Sari’s feet touch solid ground, she leaps down the debris and rushes to join the others. Nyx awkwardly lets go of the gypsy and runs behind her, neither woman bothering to slow down.

  “Hurry up!” Nyx shouts, following Sari to the door. She snaps her fingers at Tzefira, a minor spell ending the mercenary’s discomfort. “Move your legs, Tzefira!”

  Grunting in pain, Kayn pushes off Tzefira and sprints out of the mausoleum. The others are a few steps behind him when they hear the tell-tale signs of the krypters hungrily prowling through the graveyard.

  *****

  The were-vultures screech as they take to the air, hurrying to get away from the erupting mayhem of the graveyard. They angrily glare at the swarm of krypters covering their precious territory. The krypters are no longer glossy, their black and red skin having become dull and flaking off to reveal pale bone. Several of the creatures are falling apart at the joints as they struggle to reach their retreating prey. Occasionally, one of them falls into a pool of water and disintegrates as the gentle movements of the water tears them apart.

  “What is happening to them?” Tzefira asks, knocking a legless krypter off a gravestone with her war staff. “There are hundreds of them, but they’re all decaying.”

  “The krypters in the graveyard called the others back once we were captured because they thought the Lich would feed me to them,” Nyx answers. She swings her mourning star at a krypter that lands in front of her, turning its fragile head into pulp. “Their decaying is my fault. I needed to strengthen my aura, so I siphoned off their energy while drinking the griffin blood. I used a compact fire spell to cleanse the aura before I absorbed it.”

  “Taste of their own medicine,” Luke pants, sprinting ahead of Nyx and Sari. He decapitates two krypters and caves in the chest of a third with a strong kick. The effort causes him to take in a sharp breath and fall to his knees.

  “You’re really bad at rescuing people, Luke,” Sari states, flipping over him and knocking a krypter into a pool. With a quick whisper, she gives Luke a deep kiss and his body is bathed in yellow energy. “That should give you a boost to help us get out of here.”

  Luke grins before he races forward, leaping off a weak piece of the path that falls into the lake of acid. He spins and slashes at the mass of krypters gathered ahead of them, but the creatures push him back. Kayn rushes to help, even though he is barely able to fight due to his lame arm. Luke steps between the injured gypsy and the monsters, giving them an opportunity to swarm the two warriors. It is a short-l
ived advantage as several bolts of green energy strike the center of the swarm. Almost half of the krypters are torn apart by a swirling vortex of anti-magic and the survivors retreat across the floating islands of the graveyard. They can still be seen waiting in the distance as Luke and Kayn are helped to their feet.

  “We should run,” Timoran announces from the rear of the group.

  “I’ll take the lead,” Sari declares with a quick click of her heels.

  Sari runs ahead of the others, her boots and momentum allowing her to glide over the pieces of earth that fall beneath her feet. It is not long before she turns a corner and finds a large pool of bubbling water blocking her path, forcing her to skid to a stop. The acid can be seen at the distant bottom of the pool, the water contained by a long shaft of black earth. Dead fish and the partially transformed corpse of an unlucky were-vulture float in the lethal water. The others catch up in time to watch krypters gather on the other side of the pool.

  “We aren’t getting very far,” Kayn says in frustration. “Every time we build speed, we’re jumped by krypters or find something else to slow us down. Maybe we should go back to the mausoleum and see if we can escape from its other side.”

  “It’s too late for that,” Tzefira contends, walking to the edge of the pool. “The Lich will be free any minute, so we have to stick with the path we chose. Unfortunately, it looks like we made a bad decision.”

  “At least the krypters aren’t willing to cross the water,” Sari mentions. She hurls a dagger at one of the monsters, slicing through its ankle and sending it tumbling into the pool. The creature screams as it melts in the acidic water.

  Nyx flexes her fingers and is about to cast a spell when Tzefira slaps her hands. The mercenary silently glares at her, which is returned by a matching expression that only her daughter could imitate.