“There’re too many of them.” Gideon grimaced, his hands splayed as he poured his power into maintaining the bubble. “I can feel every attack.”
They were surrounded on all sides. Everywhere Chloe looked, she saw dark beasts, jaws snapping as riders threw spears, fired arrows, and slashed with their swords.
Chloe was dimly aware of Blueballs behind them, the toffet’s massive bulk swimming through the enemies and causing a great deal of damage. He managed to make his way behind Chloe, who paused for a few seconds in her attacks to send Healing Hands his way. Where the Wrangler was, she had no idea, although she could hear the roar of some animal she hoped was him.
Great winged beasts circled overhead, and the foul army kept coming. Chloe turned her attention back, sending columns of Deic Light in front of her and sapping the health of a large number of the enemies.
As she managed to take down a particularly scarred and fierce-looking rider and his beast, Chloe took a deep breath, wondering what the hell they’d unleashed and how were they going to defeat it when half their party was on the other side of the forest.
It had all been going so well, or so Abe had thought.
On the palace’s balcony, he had one of the best seats in the house to watch a tear in the fabric of reality right outside his city. This would go down in legend. His name would go down in legend as the king who oversaw it all. The one who granted access to the Nether Realm.
The idea gave him chills.
At first, it had seemed like everything was going well. Chloe and the mages were in position. Magic was being concentrated. The miserable old crone from the Mages’ School had arrived with her reanimated sacks of dust and were lending a hand. It had all seemed positive.
But then Abe had wondered whether something was wrong. The battalion of mages had been still for a good few minutes with no result. Sparks had flown from Chloe, but they had achieved little.
What Abe had not expected was for massive winged creatures to race across the canopy of the forest. In all of his years of life, he had never seen a dragon. He’d had to blink to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. And when the eagle had turned out to be the Wrangler, he couldn’t believe it.
And what a plan, too! For a dragon to create the first ripple, the first pebble tossed into a still lake. Only the dragon’s speed, power, and etheric pulses could cause the initial tear to occur. It was like a speeding bullet plowing through a thin sheet of paper. Now all that was left was to pull and pull until the whole thing tore.
Abe had clapped when the rift opened. After the blinding flash and the cheers of the mages, he had joined in. Had even held Therese nearby to watch with a wide grin. From where they stood, everything was fine. They couldn’t see through the rift, but it didn’t matter. They had won. They had accomplished the impossible.
That moment already felt like a lifetime ago. On the turn of a dime, the situation had changed. He could sense it in the air, in the silence that had fallen over the mages, and now they were overrun. Hundreds upon hundreds of the creatures spilled out of the tear.
They came like waves trying to swallow a sandcastle. The initial force gunned straight for the frontrunners. As each wave came, more creatures circled the group, surrounding them on all sides. They were surrounded now. They needed help.
And help was coming.
Abe urged Therese and the dwarf battalion onward as they neared the gate and took their positions. Several hundred dwarves who had been rescued from the surrounding villages were ready to defend their kingdom. He had sent word to the rangers, the warriors, the rogues, anyone who would listen and come to their aid.
The gates opened. Therese shone in her gold armor, leading the charge, taking out the stragglers from the waves who split off and took their chances, firing at his gate guards.
From his vantage point, he could see hundreds of creatures peeling off from the main horde and gunning for the forests, driving with such clear determination that he wondered what exactly their dark purpose was.
Footsteps approached from behind. Beverley. Her voice soft was laced with concern. “Are you ready, sir?”
Abe turned and saw the helmet in her hands. It had been years since he’d worn full armor, but he would be damned if he was going to let his army be led by their queen.
He nodded, ducked his head, and aligned himself with his headgear. Satisfied, he ordered the command to be sent out, an urgent party quest to jump to the king’s aid.
Whatever was coming through that rift wouldn’t stand a chance.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ben began to grow impatient. She should have messaged by now. Should have been in contact some time ago, surely? The sounds of the infected had died down, and the town seemed still.
Then where were they?
No one was replying to messages. He had left several in the group chat, but there was simply no response. Not from Veronica, not from Chloe and Gideon, not from anyone. The only sign they’d had of any progress was that Ben, Talbot, Huk, and Leonie had risen from the ground and leveled up.
They had whooped and cheered for Chloe, glad to see that progress was being made. It didn’t help in their current situation, particularly when all around them, the dwarves were questioning why they’d gained a level without doing any work.
Ben explained his ties to the KieraSlayers and the quest he was part of.
Now they stared at the gate, a helpless feeling in their stomachs.
“We have to try again,” Huk said, eyes narrowed at the gate. “I don’t like this.”
“Me neither,” Ben replied. He paused a moment longer, chewing his lip and trying to figure out what Chloe might do.
Chloe would run in there, all guns blazing, and take them down. Especially if it meant the difference between life and death for a comrade.
Ben took a step toward the gate. Already he could see infected stirring, slowly congregating near the entrance as if to say, “Try it, bud. See what happens.”
But they couldn’t just stand around and wait, could they?
“Gentlemen! On your feet,” Ben called, catching the attention of the dwarves.
“Oi!” a female voice called.
“And women,” Ben corrected. “Stand up. Weapons ready. We’re storming the town.”
“What about the infected? They’ll swarm us instantly. We’ll never get to the others.”
Ben sighed. “That’s a risk we’re going to have to take. Keep together. Don’t let them scratch you. If you get hurt… Well, we’re just going to have to pray that our clerics are waiting for us on the other side.”
Veronica sat down helplessly, her back against the wall.
They had put up a good fight. The minute the ghostly versions of the dwarves made themselves known, they had attacked with their cleric auras, doing their best to use their holy powers to defeat the ghosts…
But it had not been enough.
Every attack went straight through the ghosts, yet they could materialize enough to drag the clerics back into the bunker.
Veronica and Heather had struggled against them, impressed by the strength of their grasps. They had been close to slipping free a couple of times, too, until they heard the cackling giggles and noticed the three bodies lined up against the far wall.
Veronica had recognized them instantly, having seen their images carved into shrines around Obsidian. Dryana had the same ghostly sheen as the dwarves, pulsing with a translucent glow.
Beside her, Fukmos leered at them from yellow eyes, his presence enough to make her feel sick.
Completing the trio was Myaris, the Goddess of Disease. Her body was shrouded in the living presence of a dark shadow Veronica recognized instantly as the substance she had expelled from the sick.
“You know your friend can’t keep fighting forever,” Fukmos crowed, his words laced with malice. That sickening grin on his face never quite faded. “Divide the group and you diminish its strength. It’s basic math.”
“This was your p
lan all along?” Veronica snapped.
A few heads turned toward her. Everyone else was too frightened and awed to stand in the presence of the gods, but Veronica had been here before. She had seen the pitiful little cretin in the caves with Chloe and had witnessed his downfall.
Fukmos cocked his head to the side. “In a sense. Of course, I had rather hoped my old friend KieraFreya would have come and joined us, but I’ll take what I can get. Without her party working alongside her, neither she nor Chloe will be able to do much to stop us.” He nodded at the girls on either side of him. “I’ve brought some friends. Do you know them? Myaris…”
Myaris put a fist to her lips and giggled. She dipped a slight curtsy. “Pleasure.”
“And Dryana,” Fukmos continued.
Dryana said nothing but gave a slight nod of her head. She had the air of someone who wasn’t quite present. Someone whose head was in a whole other place entirely.
“See? I’m one to always learn from my mistakes. The problem before was that I fell into the trap of KieraFreya. I relied on a damn human to aid me in my task, whereas now I have my sisters with me. Beings of incredible power, in case you didn’t know.”
Dryana raised her arms slowly, her eyes turning white. From the ground beneath them came a rumbling.
Fukmos howled with laughter at the look of concern on their faces. “Did you know that this hill is manmade? A mound of dirt on the top of an ancient burial ground? No? Well, let’s meet some of the old residents.”
Spirits appeared around them, rising from the ground in a ghostly blue haze.
“And, of course, the reason you’re all here today,” Fukmos cackled. “The Goddess of Disease herself, creating a wonderful concoction for you mortals.”
Myaris took a few slow steps forward, kneeling in front of a cleric who couldn’t turn away, eyes transfixed. She tapped his forehead and immediately his eyes went dark, those repulsive dark veins appearing over his body as he turned into an infected before their eyes.
Fukmos stood proudly in front of them. “With us three together, we are unstoppable. Your friend will be no match for us, and, even if she unleashes that stupid horse, she doesn’t realize the monstrosities she will encounter when she tears the Nether Realm open.”
That caught their attention.
“What are you talking about?” Heather asked. She had been one of the first to come around to Chloe’s quest and her way of thinking. “The Nether Realm contains Shikora. Once she reunites with the horse, the darkness will be defeated.”
Fukmos stroked his chin in mock thought. “Maybe, although that, of course, doesn’t account for the legion of darkness that lies in wait.” He paused, head cocked as if listening to something none of them could hear. “Oh, scratch that. It has been released. An army of creatures was once banished to the Nether Realm to serve an eternity of punishment. They have now been freed and set loose upon the world.”
“And they’re on their way here,” Dryana said dryly.
Fukmos’ nostrils flared. “I was going to call them here...” He took a breath and closed his eyes. “No matter. They are coming.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Veronica said, doggedly shaking her head. “No matter what you throw at us, we’ll never turn. We’ve got light on our side, and once KieraFreya is reunited and this whole thing unravels, you’ll be cowering in the corner, wishing you could die.”
Fukmos’ face straightened and he nodded appreciatively. “I admire your balls. Really, I do. Only, how are you going to do that when you’re stuck down here and your friends are up there? I’ll be honest; I don’t like your chances. A small enclosed space and a handful of infected? I give you half an hour before you’re all slaves to the darkness.”
“A handful?” Heather said. “You’ve only infected one…”
Myaris jumped forward with such rapidity that it startled the group. She poked four more heads and let out a howling shriek of laughter.
Fukmos leered. “Best of luck, all. Oh, and Dryana, bring your friends, please?”
The three of them melted into shadows and slithered away from the group, disappearing up the stairs with the ghosts of the dead floating behind them.
Silence fell over the group, broken only by the hungry snarls of those who had been infected. Veronica pushed herself to her feet and let her hands pulse with healing energy.
It was nearly impossible to make anything out. With the frantic energies of the creatures around them and the constant crackle and buzz of electricity and water, Chloe could hardly see a thing.
“Are we even making a dent in these things?” she asked.
“I’ve lost count of how many there are,” Holly called, blasting energy out of the orb. The shadows created massive hands from the ground that gripped and battered the orcs. “Maybe?”
They had been battling in a nearly blind state for what felt like hours. The only indication of time passing was the horns blaring from the city gates. Gelda was behind them, flinging her colossal arms around and pummelling enemies, and she managed to see over the heads of the crowd.
“Reinforcements,” she cried. “The city is coming.”
Chloe jumped, trying to see over the crowd, but it was impossible.
“Oh, screw this,” she said, opening her menu and doing something she should have done some time ago. When she heard the screech, she yelled, “Gelda, throw me like you did Blueballs.”
Gelda looked incredibly pleased. “Twice in one day. That almost never happens.”
She counted down and tossed Chloe high into the air, keeping her arms outstretched for the catch while elbowing the creatures out of the way. She needn’t have bothered since Sir Wingsalot swooped in and Chloe landed on his back.
“Long time, no see, old friend.” Chloe beamed, then let out a cry as a winged creature came for her. She couldn’t see it at first; it was all wings and claws.
When she adjusted, she saw the strange bat-like wraiths all around her. There were creatures similar to orcs but with narrower faces and leering eyes riding atop each one.
She guided Sir Wingsalot past the attackers, diving and spinning until she was able to steal a few seconds.
There they were, hundreds of reinforcements piling out of the gate. A mixture of dwarves, elves, men, and other races held their weapons high. She was elated to see them, to see the city unite to help one cause. At the head of the charge were Abe and Therese, powerful and proud in their royal armor.
I wonder what kind of defensive stats that armor gives them? Chloe mused before a pang of guilt hit her. The orcs hadn’t stopped coming. The landscape below was littered with mages and their enemies locked in battle. They were everywhere, like ants at a picnic. Even with the additional reinforcements, it would be tough to take them all out.
Rather than speculate on their odds, Chloe nudged Sir Wingsalot into action and swooped down among them. The terror-daxil obeyed her every command, flying fast enough that the arrows and projectiles missed and low enough that she could reach the enemy.
With outstretched fingers, she blasted her Volt Shock, clearing a path down the middle where the creatures had begun to break through. She looked for groups of them and blasted them every time she could, doing whatever she could think of to thin their numbers.
“What a shocking number of bad guys.” Chloe laughed, her humor returning now that she was above it all and actually in a position to help.
“Nope. Nope, stop,” KieraFreya scolded. “No more jokes from you.”
Chloe laughed, taking out a cluster of orcs and setting their wargs aflame. She guided Sir Wingsalot to the gathering near the city and waved down at Therese, who looked beyond regal in her gold armor. Her hammer was decorated with jewels and had already sampled its first taste of blood.
Over there, she could see Blueballs swimming through bodies. Across the way, she could make out Tabitha, face creased in rage as she shot magic across the field and blasted swathes of enemies.
Chloe continued her flight, helping
and shooting spells wherever she could, the whole time keeping an eye on the portal, curious to know when it would end.
“Watch out!” KieraFreya said, ducking Chloe’s body for her as a spear flew by.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” KieraFreya replied. “What were you doing?”
Chloe nodded ahead. “We need to know what’s in there. If we can find Shikora, we’ll be one step ahead of the enemies. You can unite with your beast, then maybe call the gods and end this damned nightmare.”
KieraFreya nodded Chloe’s head.
“Well, what are we waiting for?”
Chloe grinned. Sir Wingsalot headed for the giant rift, the split in reality at least fifty feet long. They hovered in front of the tear, anxious to cross the threshold.
“Has this ever been done before?” Chloe asked.
“Of course,” KieraFreya said. “People are always going through portals into alternate realms.”
“Really?”
“Well, maybe not mortals.”
Chloe took a breath and reached a hand to where the air rippled before her. It looked like the clearest liquid she’d ever seen. She half-expected her skin to turn cold at its touch, but to her surprise, her hand just slipped through to the other side.
“Onward and upward,” Chloe said, looking down at the army still filing out of the Nether Realm. “Sir Wingsalot, forward!”
The terror-daxil briefly looked as if he wasn’t going to obey, then flapped his wings and soared into the Nether Realm.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The air around her felt different.
Despite the chaos and mania of the battle outside Hammersworth, it was deadly silent in the Nether Realm.
Below her, the lines of orcs and their steeds filed out steadily. Chloe was relieved to see that there was indeed an end to the line. There were some four hundred or so left to make it through, at a guess.
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