by A. C. Cobble
The original group of men waved broadly to someone behind Ben.
He slowly shifted his head to glance through a narrow gap in the rubbish, looking toward the back of the quarry. He saw movement on top of the rim of rock that surrounded the bowl. At least another score of men up there, he guessed. There was no way of being certain.
Ben returned his gaze to the men scouting the campsite. They toed some of the debris piles, but there were upward of a hundred of them scattered around the empty rock floor. Ben hoped they wouldn’t check them all.
Movement caught his eye. Back at the road, a figure with a black cloak and deep hood joined the chain-mail armored soldiers. The figure paused, either waiting for something to happen or sensing for magical traps.
A shiver ran down Ben’s spine as he saw the brilliant white porcelain mask peeking out from within the dark cowl. A nightmare like that shouldn’t be possible in the bright light of afternoon, but there she was. Eldred.
The dark mage stepped into the quarry, moving cautiously. It was obvious she expected a trap, but they’d been careful to obscure the surprises they had planned.
Both Towaal and Amelie knew Eldred. Towaal had known her for centuries. They’d been initiates together and then full mages of the Sanctuary. Amelie first met the dark mage less than a year before, but she’d studied under Eldred during that time. They had interacted almost daily.
The dark mage had gained exceptional power through whatever the Veil did to her, but she could not have gained additional knowledge that quickly. They knew they couldn’t beat her in a contest of strength, but they might be able to outsmart her. They would use their experience to lure her into a situation they could control.
Eldred’s head swiveled, looking for an attack, but nothing came.
“I think they’re gone,” called one of the men. “Maybe they knew we were coming and fled.”
The mage didn’t respond. Instead, she strode toward the campsite.
“Who builds up a fire in the middle of the day?” argued another one of the men. “There is a purpose to this. It must be to draw us closer. It’s a trap.”
“They’re not here,” snapped the first soldier, “and we haven’t been attacked. How do you explain that?”
Eldred ignored them. She walked around the campsite, stirring their equipment and bedding with her foot. She looked into the fire then glanced around the rest of the quarry, her white mask sparkling in the afternoon sun.
She raised a hand. A sizzling ball of orange flame sprung from her palm. She hurled it at a nearby pile of rubbish. The fireball impacted the pile and ignited it with a whoosh. Wood, rocks, and loose fabric exploded with the force of the blast.
Fortunately, it wasn’t a pile that Ben and his friends were hiding under, but he saw another ball of fire forming in the dark mage’s hand. It wasn’t the signal they agreed on, but they couldn’t wait for Eldred to torch all of their cover.
Around the quarry, pieces of iron scrap suddenly glowed bright red and exploded with sharp cracks. Hundreds of nails, wagon fittings, and leftover armaments from tournaments were blasted to bits. Hot shrapnel was flung like hail, slamming into the legs and feet of nearby soldiers, shredding their lower bodies like over-cooked meat from the pot. Men went down screaming all around them.
Ben and his friends burst out of hiding.
Eldred and the men directly around her hadn’t been harmed in the attack. The dark mage had quickly erected an expanding circle of force around her. Scalding, jagged metal bounced off it and clattered down to the rock floor.
“I’m glad you didn’t run,” said the mage’s voice calmly, directly in Ben’s head.
Ben looked at Towaal and Amelie. They stood across from him, forming a triangle surrounding the dark mage and her men.
Bolts of lightning erupted from Eldred, striking out at Ben’s friends.
Ben didn’t try to harden his will and stand against the attack. He was certain he couldn’t stop a direct assault from the dark mage. Instead, he threw dignity to the wind and dove out of the way. The pile of debris he’d been hiding under exploded, showering him with rocks and shattered wood.
Eldred wasn’t facing him, though, and he wasn’t the one who’d drawn her focus.
Lady Towaal was flung backward, smoke and the crackle of electricity following her as she was smacked into the rock floor of the quarry. She lay motionless.
All around them, men screamed in agony.
Eldred looked at her men. Three quarters of them were down. The men clutched ruined legs, grabbing at where the burning iron had stabbed into them. Their wails filled the quarry with an awful choir of pain.
“Effective, I admit,” she hissed, her voice echoing through Ben’s mind, “but did you think that would actually injure me? I’m disappointed, Karina.”
“She didn’t do that. I did,” declared Amelie. She was standing defiantly, her hands balled into fists.
Eldred turned toward her, showing her back to Ben.
“I have plans for you, girl.” Eldred’s voice was like a rusty iron gate being forced open. Her words scraped across Ben’s consciousness, cutting through the screams of her men.
Towaal stirred from where she’d fallen, but the mage didn’t have the strength to rise.
Ben needed to buy time for her to recover. He stepped forward and raised his sword. Some of the guards saw him and moved into position to block his attack. Eldred ignored them. Regretting that he didn’t have his mage-wrought blade, Ben dropped into a fighting stance and held his longsword ready.
Amelie threw one of her hands up, launching a ham-sized fireball at the dark mage.
The fire splashed harmlessly around Eldred. The dark mage didn’t bother raising her hands in defense. Ben thought she would have laughed had she been able.
Amelie tossed her prism to the side. She’d been gathering heat all day with the thing. She’d crippled Eldred’s soldiers using it and the iron scrap, but it had done nothing to the dark mage.
Ben’s turn. While Eldred was distracted, he took two running steps and hurled his longsword. It spun in the afternoon sun, flying end over end.
Eldred’s men called out in alarm, but the blade wasn’t directed at them. They moved to block it, but they were too slow. It sailed between two of them and pierced the dark mage’s back. The Venmoor steel of the longsword punched into her flesh, sinking deep. She stumbled forward, surprised at the mundane attack from behind.
She spun to face Ben. Her voice screeched inside his head. “You again.”
Ben stared, wide-eyed. Half the length of his blade protruded from Eldred’s chest. She had regained her balance and was standing straight, ignoring the steel stuck through her body. No blood pumped from the brutal wound, and the mage didn’t appear injured by it.
“Oh shit,” mumbled Ben under his breath.
He hardened his will a heartbeat before a concussion rocked his body. His vision went blurry, and two Eldreds seemed to dance out from each other, wavering wildly. Brilliant colors cascaded in front of his eyes and the ringing of a bell filled his ears. He flopped to the ground, stunned and defenseless against Eldred’s attack. His mind wasn’t functioning. He felt like he’d had two dozen ales. The world spun around him, and he could only lie on the stone, trying not to get sick. For some reason, he thought that was important.
“I’ll enjoy dealing with you later,” he heard through the confusion.
The two guards stepped toward him. He wasn’t sure if they meant to deal with him before Eldred had the chance, or if they were simply moving to protect her from anything else he tried. Not that he could. His head swam, and his vision was blurred. His only thought was to keep from retching. He realized that even if he could gain his feet, he had no sword.
From the ground, he struggled to watch as the dark mage twisted an arm back and gripped the hilt of his longsword. She yanked it from her body and let the steel clatter to the ground by her feet.
Ben groaned and tried to corral his spinning t
houghts, to maintain stasis, to fight what the mage was doing to his mind.
A guard moved behind the two who were facing Ben. Eldred paid him no more mind than the others.
She was focused on Amelie. “Now, girl, I have been waiting for a very long time to do this.”
The guard suddenly surged toward the dark mage, whipping a longsword from his sheath and slashing at Eldred’s head.
Sensing something, she ducked, but she wasn’t as fast as her attacker.
Silver smoke trailed the blade and it smashed into the side of Eldred’s head, spinning the dark mage like a top. Rhys, in the guise of one of her guards, stalked after her. Black robes floated out around Eldred as she spun from the impact, stumbling away from Rhys.
Ben saw her stark white porcelain mask fly free. The mask crashed to the rock and shattered. Eldred’s body fell beside it, face down on the stone. His heart soared.
Then Eldred pushed herself up, to her knees and then to her feet. She faced Rhys. The rogue squared his stance, and held his longsword before him.
Ben’s stomach lurched when he saw Eldred. Her hood had been throw back, giving him his first view of her underneath the mask. She had the desiccated face of a rotted corpse. Her skin had the appearance of months’ old jerky. Her forehead glowed with soul-sucking red runes. One side of her face was destroyed from where Rhys struck her. Her cheekbone was smashed in and half her jaw was missing. One eye dangled from a ruined socket. Rhys had damaged her, but not slowed her.
Her hands blazed with crackling energy. A bolt of lightning snapped out toward Rhys, but the rogue bore the brunt of it, hardening his will and letting the energy flash around him and his sword.
The blaze of power flickered out and Rhys stood tall. The runes on his sword flared in the afternoon sun, the sparkling silver light shining like a beacon.
“You felt that, didn’t you?” crowed Rhys. “Your power sheared away like your face. This blade will end you, witch.”
The corpse didn’t miss a beat. Another bolt of lightning shot out, but this time it didn’t strike Ben or his companions. Eldred attacked her own men. Bodies twitched and screams were cut short as the bolt of lightning leapt from man to man. One by one, she killed a score of them.
The able soldiers turned to flee, but most were helpless, crippled by the exploding iron Amelie had set off when they sprung their trap. They’d given Eldred a supply of immobile life forces, and the mage was taking them one by one.
The remaining half of Eldred’s jaw creaked open with silent laughter.
Rhys, realizing what was happening, charged. This longsword streamed silver smoke and the runes flared as the rogue unleashed the full power of his weapon. The corpse of Eldred spread her arms and black shadow billowed out from her robes. Rhys chopped down at the mage.
Ben expected the mage-wrought steel to shear through Eldred, but her shadows formed into a shield. An ear-shattering wail sounded when the silver smoke met the black shadow.
Eldred stumbled back, her jaw still wide in a silent cackle.
Rhys kept up his attack, furiously raining blow after blow, alternating positions, coming like a whirlwind.
Eldred blocked his attack over and over, but some of the strikes slipped through. The rogue’s longsword tore chunks out of the dark mage. Sparks and smoke trailed away from each of the wounds, but as Ben watched, darkness flowed across and filled them. The mage was repairing herself as they fought.
Around them, the soldiers continued to die. Even the ones who ran were struck down mid-flight.
Ben felt the dark mage’s energy pulse toward him, and he hardened his will. The force of her attack battered him, but with Rhys striking at her, she had little concentration to spare.
Heartbeats later, an injured man a dozen paces away twitched and died. Ben looked on, unable to stop her from killing her own men and absorbing the energy from their deaths.
The two guards who stood between Ben and her didn’t seem to realize their leader had turned on them. They stalked toward Ben, swords raised.
He grunted. It figured those would be the two she killed last. He rose to his feet, wavering with the aftereffects of Eldred’s assault. Considering he lacked a weapon, the soldiers were as dangerous to him as the dark mage herself. Stout chainmail guarded their bodies. Their heavy broadswords were drawn and held steady.
Behind them, Ben could see Rhys tiring as he battered Eldred. The corpse mage still stood, but she was fighting a defensive battle, barely keeping the rogue’s blade from carving out a fatal chunk of her. Shimmering silver flakes marked places the rogue had struck her that she could no longer repair. Everything she stole from her men went into holding Rhys back.
Ben hoped his friend had the stamina to keep pressing her, the strength to outlast the energy Eldred absorbed from the men she was killing. Ben didn’t have time to worry about that, though, as the two guards broke into a charge. He had heartbeats to react, but it was enough time to see they were both right-handed. He sprinted forward and veered to his right, the guard’s left. They turned together and kept coming.
The closest one had to scramble to avoid a pile of rubbish. Ben flew at him, trying to time the attack to arrive while the man was swerving around the debris. He came close.
The guard brought his sword up at the same time Ben rushed past the point of the blade. Ben felt the steel of the broadsword slap against his side. The heavy weapon wasn’t as sharp as a smaller blade, but the edge still bit into Ben’s skin, leaving a long laceration. Blood wet his ribcage, but Ben was inside the man’s reach.
He gripped the man’s neck and looped a foot behind his leg. Shifting his weight, Ben hurled them both to the ground, aiming the guard’s head toward the debris pile and a large chunk of rock. With a crack, the man’s head impacted the stone.
Ben saw the light flicker out of his eyes, then the second man was on them, thrusting down with his broadsword.
Ben rolled, yanking the body of the first guard over him. He had the air knocked out of him when the broadsword speared the body, pushing the heavy, armored guard down on Ben.
He kicked out, catching the standing man’s knee with his foot, but the man stepped back out of reach. He raised his sword again, prepared to bring it down for a fatal strike this time.
Ben rolled the other way, shifting out from under the first man. The second stepped after him. Still on his back, Ben grabbed the bloody rock he’d brained the first guard with and raised it just in time to meet the descending broadsword.
Sparks and rock chips flew as steel met stone. The blade bounced to the side.
“Sorry about this,” muttered Ben.
He kicked up with all of his might. Instead of at the man’s legs, Ben aimed his foot directly in between them.
The soldier squealed a high-pitched whine and his eyes crossed. He dropped his broadsword with a clang. The soldier didn’t have armor protecting that area from below.
Ben drew his hunting knife and buried it in the man’s knee, twisting it as he yanked it back out. The soldier stumbled back and collapsed to the ground.
Ben started to crawl over to him and finish the job, but a blast of hot air reminded him Eldred was still standing. He’d let the man live for now. He stood and saw Rhys was now on the defensive, stumbling back, furiously slashing at dense tendrils of black shadow and flickering tongues of fire. The thick darkness streamed from Eldred and came at Rhys from half a dozen directions.
The rogue’s clothing was torn and bright crimson slashes marred his skin. It looked like he’d been mauled by a beast. One of the tendrils latched onto the rogue’s arm and Ben gasped. It appeared to be sucking the blood and flesh from him.
The glowing silver longsword whipped through and severed the streamer of blackness, but the injury didn’t dissipate with the smoke. A fresh river of blood flowed down the rogue’s arm.
Ben glanced around wildly and saw Towaal was still lying on her side, struggling to gain her feet. Her hair stood on end and smoke drifted away from he
r. Her eyes looked glazed over and dazed.
Ben cursed. They’d counted on the mage slowing Eldred enough for Rhys to get a fatal blow. Instead, Towaal and been knocked out for nearly the entire fight.
Amelie was moving, but she was gripping her leg. It was twisted unnaturally. While Ben had been fighting the soldiers, Eldred must have attacked Amelie and broken her leg.
Around them, every one of Eldred’s men lay dead except the one Ben had maimed. She’d slaughtered and drained them all. Her own men.
Ben swallowed the bile in his throat and stepped toward the dark mage, unsure what he could do. He could see Rhys had moments left, at best. The rogue was slowing, and his body was covered in sticky blood.
Ben kept moving closer, his mind racing. He drew his hunting knife, but it would be worthless against an opponent like Eldred. They needed power. They needed magic. Will and knowledge. Anything in the world was possible with will and knowledge.
An arm-thick tendril of black smoke lashed out from Eldred and caught the side of Rhys’ longsword, smacking it out of his grip. The silver runes started to fade as the weapon bounced across the rock floor of the quarry. Rhys followed it with his eyes, defeat clouding his gaze. The tendril snapped at Rhys again and he flew back, blood streaming behind him like the tail of a kite. The rogue crumpled to the ground. Corpse Eldred advanced on him.
Ben had to do something. He broke into a run.
“Ben,” shouted Amelie. “Her power is stored in the runes on her face!”
The dark mage didn’t spare Amelie a glance.
Suddenly, Towaal staggered to her feet and raised her arms. She looked frazzled, but the bewildered confusion had faded.
Sunlight streamed down, stabbing into Ben’s eyes. He held up an arm to block the light and slowed his run, halfway to Eldred.
The black smoke around the dark mage contracted suddenly as if it was burned by the intensity of the light. Eldred hunched down, bowing before the brilliance from above.