* * * *
“Captain, my men and I will be departing,” Aidan said, calling up to Dexter from where he stood on the main deck.
Dexter finished retying a damaged rope to the light ballista on the front of the ship, then stood and moved to the rail. “Get what you need from your captive?”
Aidan sighed. “It died.”
Dexter’s expression clouded over. He understood the need for interrogation but did not approve of torture. Sure, sometimes things had to happen, he understood that, but still…
“It died before we could ask it anything,” Aidan clarified, seeing Dexter’s impending scowl. “We’re going to push for it, would you like me to leave a few men here to help you defend, in case we fail?”
Dexter shook his head. “You’ll be needing them more than I will,” he said. “Just don’t fail.”
Aidan laughed and nodded. “Better words have yet to be spoken. I hope to see you again, Captain. Good luck!”
Dexter waved to him. “You as well, may your Gods watch over you.”
Aidan returned the salute and turned to order his men to throw down the ropes and scale back down them. They assembled at the side of the Voidhawk and moved off in squads. Aidan had reorganized them slightly, taking their losses into account. They now moved as two heavy squads, supporting one another and leapfrogging through the ruins to minimize the threat of an ambush.
They made it without incident out of the sight of the Voidhawk. It was even quiet for a few moments as everyone looked and listened for some sign of them after they had disappeared into the broken remnants of buildings near the center of the ruins. They were rewarded with a whistle and then a sound that was not unlike a thousand cats hissing. The angry cries of men countered, and though they could not see it, they knew a battle had been joined.
“Let’s hurry,” Dexter said. “While they’re busy, over the side and fix what we can.”
Rosh nodded and let Dexter slide down a rope first. When he landed beside the Captain, Dexter was surprised to see Willa clinging to his back with one arm wrapped around his neck.
“What’s this?” Dexter asked. “Not safe for you down here, especially if you can’t get back up quick-like.”
“Cap, we can use her,” Rosh interrupted. “You should see some of the things she done. Er, well, she told me how to do ‘em, but still, you ought to see them.”
Dexter frowned, then nodded towards one of the struts that had been damaged in the landing. It broke off by the rock wall that surrounded the ruins, causing the Voidhawk to list. Chance favored them; a pile of rubble that had once been a fountain served to hold up the battered strut.
Willa moved to it, seeming to ignore everything else. She ran her hand over the wood and frowned, as though something about it caused her to be uncomfortable. “It doesn’t work,” she muttered. “It’s broken.”
Dexter looked to Rosh and rolled his eyes dramatically. He kept glancing around to the ruins as well, expecting the worst at any moment. They could hear the fighting, but it had moved a little further away. That, or the number of combatants had been reduced significantly.
“It needs a lot of work to fix it,” Willa said, turning to look at Rosh and then Dexter. “Something else needs to hold the ship up.”
“We got no dry dock to set up in,” Dexter pointed out. “And we can’t land on flat ground like this. I’m thinking that we just fasten some extra boards to make a temporary strut for when we get back to the army. From there were we can spend the time to fix it proper.”
“It won’t hold,” Willa said, shaking her head and looking at it. She glanced at Dexter and blushed. “Sorry, Sir, but I just know it won’t.”
“Cap, believe her, she’s got a way with this,” Rosh encouraged.
Dexter glanced up at the ship wondering what sort of a spectacle they were making. He saw Logan and Kragor staring down at them, with the priest oblivious to the ghostly dwarf that stood beside him. Kragor stared past Dexter at the strut and shook his head, then turned and walked away.
“Alright, how do we fix it?” Dexter asked, still thinking he was crazy to put his faith in the vision of his dead friend.
“Captain!”
Dexter looked up, alarmed by Bekka’s harsh cry. It had only been a few hours since she had been injured in the crash, he wondered what could have roused her from her private misery.
“There’s something wrong here!” She said urgently. “I can feel it… something… evil.”
Xander appeared next at the edge of the ship. Dexter looked from her, seeing the concern on her face overpowering the migraine of a headache she surely had. “Wizard?” Dexter asked, his voice curt.
Xander gaped for a moment then closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He incanted a spell and opened his eyes to show only the whites of them. He blinked again a moment later, restoring them to normal.
“There’s a powerful magic rising in the ruins. It is ancient, but whether it is good or evil I do not know,” he said. He nodded to himself. “Yes…yes, it is elemental. Nothing foul about the magic itself.”
“I do know,” Bekka said, her face pale. “It is wicked and fey, Captain. We must hurry!”
“How long?” Dexter asked, thinking of the air spirits above them that had nearly ended their lives. Perhaps they were not evil, but as far as he was concerned, they were about as vile as vile could be.
“Not long…I think. Less than an hour.”
Dexter cursed and looked back to Rosh and Willa.
Willa shook her head. “It will take time and some fix this, Sir. Hours, at least.”
“We could fix it up there, Dex,” Rosh said, gesturing up towards the sky. “I’m meaning way up.”
Dexter nodded, he had thought of that. It had dangers of its own, of course: hull repairs in the void. Lose your grip on the hull and there would be some time spent floating through the void thinking about what you should have done instead of what you had done. That, and the trip back down would take a day or more, what with the world’s spin and the trouble with reentry.
“Anything you can do to protect us?” Dexter asked the wizard and the sorceress.
“It’s pure elemental magic-“ Xander began, spouting his disagreement.
“No,” Bekka stopped him. “I mean yes, perhaps, but look beyond it. The magic you speak of guards this place. What I speak of is deeper, hidden inside. It is what they seek and it is anxious to be released.”
“Xander?”
The wizard looked again, closing his eyes as he let his wizard’s eye study the lines of magic. He opened them after a long moment. “There is…something. I have trouble making it out, but yes, there’s something beyond the lines and wards.”
“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” Dexter said, turning to Rosh and Willa. “We leave then, whether you’re on the ship or not!”
Rosh looked to Willa, who turned to him as well, and then they both focused their attention back to the strut and stared at it for several long seconds. Then Willa started talking and Rosh listened intently. He turned and ran to the side of the Voidhawk, leaping and grabbing a rope to scale up it arm over arm. On the deck he slapped Logan in the shoulder. “Come on,” he demanded, leading the surprised priest below deck.
Dexter kept a wary eye and ear on the ruins. The sounds of battle had all but ended when he heard a great rumbling that translated even to the dirt and rocks around them. He heard Bekka, distantly, mumble, “earth.”
He glanced at her and saw she was staring distantly again. Before Rosh and Logan returned he heard a roaring sound that he had trouble properly identifying. “Fire,” Bekka whispered from above.
“Here!” Rosh cried out, gasping for breath. He tossed several boards over the side, dropping the planks and even an old remnant from a broken mast replacement. Logan carried, and tossed overboard, several coils of thick rope.
Rosh slid down the rope, grimacing as it burned his hand. He let go and dropped the final few feet to the ground, then ran over to join Will
a, who was already trying to drag the supplies over one handed. Dexter helped them, but kept glancing towards the ruined temple.
“Water,” he heard Bekka say softly over the din of their scrambling repairs.
He glanced up, wondering what was happening. He wondered if any of them could survive the magical defenses. And worse, he was afraid of what might happen if they did survive them.
He heard a gasp then. Looking up he saw Xander stumble away from the railing. A moment later he returned, his face pale. “The wards are broken,” he said. “She’s right… there’s something ancient and evil. It waits, seeking to be freed from its imprisonment.”
“Rosh,” Dexter snapped.
“Ten minutes, Cap!” Rosh said, not bothering to look up. He was looping the rope around the wood, which he had arranged around the rocks and the remaining strut. Logan returned from another run, tossing a hammer and several iron nails to the ground near them. Willa rushed over and grabbed them a handful at a time and put them at Rosh’s feet.
Dexter scowled, ten minutes was fifteen minutes too many. “Prepare to sail!” He snapped, yelling to those aboard the ‘Hawk.
“Captain, I have an idea,” Xander called down to him. A scream so powerful it was nearly inhuman overpowered the mage’s voice though, coming from deep within the ruins.
Dexter stared at it, a cold sweat forming on his skin. “Rosh,” he said anxiously.
“I’m working on it!” Snapped the big man.
“Captain!” Xander called again. Dexter ignored him and hopped up on top of a pile of rocks to get a better view deeper into the ruins.
“It’s free!” Bekka gasped.
“I can protect us!” Xander screamed, his frustration at how he was repeatedly cut off or ignored overwhelming him. “Stand near the ship!”
Another rumble started deep in the ground, causing them all to vibrate. Willa called out a warning as it grew worse. She saw the strut shifting on the broken fountain. She moved closer to Rosh and reached out to pull him back.
The trembling turned into a powerful release of energy, making it seem as though the ground came up and slammed into them. The rocks Dexter stood upon crumbled under him and he crashed to the ground, grimacing as his elbow and shoulder absorbed the brunt of the fall. Most of the crew fell as well, though Logan flexed his knees and rode it well. Rosh and Willa went down and Rosh looked up to see the strut shifting as the fountain began to give way. Willa lay directly in its path.
Rosh launched himself off the ground, grabbing her and rolling her out of the way. He threw her as they rolled, tossing her free of the threat. His hands went to the leading edge of the strut, which was grinding toward him at an alarming rate. He flexed his arms and pushed at it, driving himself away across the rocky ground.
“Help!” He growled, knowing that as strong as he was, there would be no way he could hold up the entire Voidhawk as it shifted off of the crumbling fountain. No man could.
Logan leapt from the side, falling over a score of feet to the ground. He rolled when he hit, limping for his two first running steps but then moving normally as though he was unbothered by the fall. Logan kicked one of the stones into Rosh’s side, making him glare at the priest. The strut, descending slowly thanks to the slowly disintegrating fountain it had rested upon, touched the edge of the piece of rubble and for a moment, and halted.
Rosh scrambled away from it, and only just in time before the small boulder cracked and broke apart. The strut descended the rest of the way, crunching into the ground and cracking along its length further than it already had.
Willa was at Rosh’s side, trying to help him to his feet. Dexter was up by then as well, surveying first his crew and then the state of the strut. Their sails were not mended and only a few minor repairs had been made. Flight was all but impossible, especially with the elemental foes above them.
He turned and saw a foul looking mist enveloping the ruins. It spread slowly, but stayed low and close to the ground. It seemed they were running out of options.
“Xander!” He snapped. “Do your thing!”
Xander came to his knees and shook his head. He saw the mist deeper in the ruins and gasped. Then he rose to his feet and swung his legs over the railing. At the last minute he grabbed the rope and slid down it, burning his hands in the process. Cursing, he ran away from the ship several dozen feet, then turned and looked at it. He paced backwards a few feet before he finally figured he was happy with his positioning.
The wizard shooed Dexter away with his hands when the man tried to approach. Dexter stood still and watched, wondering what the wizard had in mind. He was their only hope, he hated to admit.
Xander reached into a pocket and pulled out some grainy material. It was some form of crushed gemstone, Dexter knew, and probably very expensive. Xander showed no concern as he began to walk in a circle around the ship, letting a small amount of it fall to the ground behind him. He moved as quickly as he could, but still it was a painstakingly slow process. Dexter glanced up and saw the mist was spreading, overtaking the temple completely now and beginning to move beyond it.
The circle was finished finally, with the mist steadily, but slowly, advancing. Xander then began to use a dagger to dig runes in the hard packed ground, spacing them each a few feet apart. He looked up when he heard something, and gasped when he saw a handful of soldiers scrambling through the ruins and trying to escape.
Dexter saw them and felt a moment of relief. He had hoped they had not all perished. It seemed that death might still await them, for they disappeared a moment later to backtrack around the upheavals the earthquake caused. The mist advanced on them, causing another scream and a few curses.
“Captain, it’s ready… do not break the circle,” Xander said, hurrying to stand next to Dexter.
“What about them?” Dexter asked, pointing to the three men breaking free of the ruins. Aidan was in the lead, followed by one of his sergeants and a regular soldier.
The sergeant tripped on a rock and went down hard. Aidan skidded to a halt, but the sergeant told him to go on, he would be right behind him.
The sergeant limped a few steps on his twisted ankle, cursing and falling to the ground. He tried again, this time hopping a few steps then losing his balance. The mist was gaining.
“Don’t touch the symbol!” Xander cried out as Aidan and the soldier crossed over it. They narrowly avoided the dust and the symbols he had traced, then kept running forward until they stopped at the edge of the Voidhawk.
They looked back and saw the sergeant struggling to not be overtaken by the malevolent mist. “Stand up!” Xander cried out, terrified that the man would break his symbol of protection.
The man heard and struggled to his feet. The mist was only inches away from him by then. Tendrils of malignant fog extended to wrap around him in a sinuous fashion. He shuddered and lunged forward, throwing himself over the line on the ground. The mist slammed into it as though it was an invisible wall, unable to pass through. It spread, as though it was an intelligent beast searching for a way in. The sergeant staggered another step and then collapsed to crawl towards the safety of the ship.
Aidan and the soldier ran to the man, helping him to his feet and carrying him back to the ship, where Rosh, Dexter, Willa, and Logan now waited.
Rosh and Logan went up first then pulled Willa up. Dexter went next and waited on deck while Aidan and the other soldier fashioned a sling for the wounded sergeant. His broken ankle was only an inconvenience in comparison to his violent cough and shuddering muscles.
What’s gotten into him?” Jenna asked quietly as she stared down at the man’s contortions.
Before Dexter’s open mouth could reply the injured sergeant suddenly lunged, grabbing onto Aidan’s only remaining soldier. He pulled the man forward and bit down on his arm, tearing off a flap of skin and chewed on it. The soldier yelled in pain and tried to get free of the wounded sergeant, but he got tangled in the ropes around the man leaving him trapped and vulnerabl
e.
Aidan tried to pull the man away but between the possessed sergeant’s grip and the ropes it was futile. A crack of thunder rang out and both Aidan and the wounded man jumped, their heads snapping in the direction of the deck. Smoke floated from the barrel of Dexter’s pistol and in unison, their gazes turned to the sergeant and the bloody hole in his forehead.
“Get up here,” Dexter said, “before we raise the ropes.”
Aidan nodded and told the wounded man to grab on. They both did and were hoisted aboard.
“What’s going on out there?” Rosh asked, trying to peer into the mist that had blanketed the entire ruins outside of Xander’s protective spell.
“I don’t-“
“Evil,” Bekka said, her whisper interrupting Dexter. “Pure, raw, chaotic evil.”
“You’ve seen this before?” Dexter asked, turning to face her.
Bekka’s sweaty, pale face nodded. She turned and pointed to Aidan’s only remaining soldier. He was clutching the bites on his arm in pain and only looked up when he sensed everyone was looking at him.
“I’m sorry,” Bekka said, her voice sounding miserable. No one doubted her sincerity, but they also had no idea what she was talking about.
“You have to go,” she said.
“Go? Go where?” He hissed, clutching his arm.
“Off the ship… out there. Away from us,” she said.
She turned to Dexter, “Captain… he’s been infected. He’s turning. Look at him, see the pain? The anger? Soon he’ll be one of them.”
“One of who?” Dexter asked, confused.
“A living ghoul, dead but not dead,” she said, turning back to him. He shook his head violently, denying what she said.
“It’s just a scratch!” He protested, then shivered.
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