by Sam Ferguson
Her spine tingled when she realized what it was.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
The ghastly figure floated toward her. “I mean you no harm,” the ghost said. “We have our truce for four days, as agreed.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Licenien sent me to warn you,” the ghost said.
“Warn me of what?”
The other ghost floated into full view then. “The creatures that have descended upon the elves of Tualdern are still here,” the second ghost said.
“If he knew of this, then why not tell me this last night himself?”
The first ghost hissed. “He was not sure what to make of your claim about the Champion of Truth,” he said. “He thought perhaps you were simply boasting, or lying to conceal your true intentions.”
“What changed his mind?” Dimwater asked.
The second ghost came closer. “We followed you as you traveled through the valley today,” he said. “After listening to Erik and the man with the books talk for a while, Licenien decided we should help you.”
“Then why wait until now to warn us if you were with us all day?”
“During the daytime we are not able to make ourselves known to mortals, it is part of our curse. So, we waited here until dusk, so we could speak with you.”
“What killed the elves?” Dimwater asked evenly.
“Lycans,” the ghosts replied in unison. “They came in from the east, and there was a bitter battle with the elves. Now the few elves that are left have gone underground, and the lycans roam the surface at night.”
“Will you stay and fight with us?” Dimwater asked.
The ghosts shook their heads. “Our power is in the valley. Even though Tualdern sits on the edge of the valley, we have no power here over mortals.”
The second ghost pointed in the direction of the valley. “If you come back to the valley, we can help you.”
Dimwater stood there for a moment, trying to discern whether she was being trapped by the ghosts. “Why should I believe any of this?” she asked.
Just then a blood-curdling scream rent the air and Dimwater twirled around in the direction of the scream.
“It is too late,” the first ghost said. “They are here.”
Dimwater turned back around, but the ghosts were gone. Her heart raced. She glanced at the buildings around her, hoping against hope that Marlin and the others would come out of one of the nearby doorways.
“This way,” urged a whisper in Dimwater’s ear. She looked up and saw a faint image floating quickly for the end of the street. Despite the doubts in her mind, she ran after the ghost. It turned to the right, down a narrow alley. Dimwater followed and nervously glanced over her shoulder as a terrible howl erupted from somewhere else in Tualdern.
The ghost came into view then, pointing at a large gray building across the street from the alley’s opening. “The other three from your party are on the second floor.”
“How do I know you aren’t lying?” Dimwater asked.
The ghost faded away with the wind, leaving her standing there alone. She stepped to the edge of the alley and peered down the street. Everything was quiet again. Then, a door opened in the gray building across the street and out walked Jaleal, Tatev, and Marlin.
Dimwater smiled and ran over to them.
“Did you hear that scream?” Tatev asked nervously.
The sorceress nodded. “We have to get to Lepkin and Erik as quickly as possible.”
“What’s that?” Marlin asked, pointing down the street.
“I don’t see anything,” Tatev said.
Dimwater turned, but she also saw nothing. “What do you see, Marlin?” she asked.
“It is a strange aura,” he responded. “Something I have not seen before.”
Dimwater conjured a cloud beneath her and grabbed onto Tatev’s shoulder. “Everyone hold on,” she commanded. They each grabbed hold of each other’s hands and the cloud launched them up about twenty feet above the ground. Then the sorceress called in a mighty wind that sped them off through Tualdern toward the palace.
“What is it?” Jaleal asked as they swerved through the rooftops.
Dimwater remained silent, not wanting to say what she thought until she knew for certain.
“There are more of them,” Marlin asked. “At least seven have come into the city.”
“Seven what?” Jaleal asked with a high pitched, frustrated tone.
“I think they might be werewolves,” Dimwater said after a moment.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Erik almost jumped out of his skin when the window flew open and Dimwater came sailing in with the others. They all tumbled to the floor in a heap and the sorceress was quick to magically seal the window.
“What’s the matter?” Lepkin shouted.
“Is the door sealed?” Dimwater asked.
Lepkin nodded and pointed. “We put everything against the door we could find.”
“They are only about a minute behind us,” Marlin said. “Are there any other ways into this room?”
Lepkin shook his head. “What is coming?”
“Werewolves,” Dimwater replied evenly. “At least a dozen of them.”
“Ever fought a werewolf?” Jaleal asked Lepkin as he twirled his spear around in front of himself.
“Have you?” Lepkin countered.
The gnome nodded. “Twice.” He moved to the door and looked at the pile of furniture in front of it. “Send me out into the other chamber,” he told Dimwater.
The sorceress shook her head. “We should stand together, here.”
“How many of us have mithril weapons?” Jaleal asked. Then he looked down with mock surprise and held his spear up. “That’s right, just me!” He pointed to the door. “You know as well as I do that this will not hold. I can do this.”
“Mithril isn’t the only thing that can kill them,” Tatev said. “Fire, decapitation, and stabbing them through the heart will all work just as well.”
“Mithril makes their blood boil,” Jaleal said.
“I thought that was silver,” Marlin commented.
“No,” Tatev said. “He is right. Mithril makes their blood boil. Silver does too, but mithril is actually stronger.”
Erik pulled his sword and let the white flames engulf the blade. The others looked to him curiously. “Why don’t we all go out into the next room and counter attack?” he asked.
“We don’t know how many are coming,” Marlin told him. “I saw at least twelve different auras, but there could be more.”
Erik looked around the room and shook his head. “I don’t want to die in here, holed up and cowering in some forsaken tower.”
“Interesting time to find your courage,” Lepkin noted. Then he nodded his head. “The boy is right, we should stand our ground.”
“We will need a plan,” Tatev said.
Everyone jumped as something slammed into the door, shaking all of the furniture on their side of the door. Angry snarling and low growls were followed by hot, fierce clawing and scratching at the door.
“Too late for a plan,” Jaleal said. The gnome licked his left palm and slicked his beard down as he fixed his eyes on the doorway. “When they break through, I will pierce the first through and then Dimwater can blast them with fire at her leisure.”
“I’m not accustomed to taking orders,” Dimwater said playfully as she moved into position behind him.
Lepkin drew his sword and moved to stand near the side of the doorway. He motioned for Tatev and Marlin to get into a far corner.
Erik move into position opposite of Lepkin.
“No fear,” Lepkin told him with a stern look. “No one dies tonight.”
Erik nodded, but as the doorway shook violently and the wood began to crack, he could feel the knot returning to his stomach. He had never seen a werewolf before, nor had he ever thought he would. They were beasts of legend used to scare children around campfires. He knew they existe
d, but he had always thought they lived far away in the eastern wilds. Never would he have guessed they would venture into the Middle Kingdom.
“Erik,” Lepkin called out in a forced whisper. “You trained for this,” he assured him.
Not for this! Erik thought.
“Listen to your surroundings, observe your opponent, and control your emotions.”
Erik thought about it and everything fell into place. He took a deep breath, calming his nerves. He focused on the sounds all around him, not only the scratching and pounding on the door, but also the crackle of his flaming sword, Dimwater’s almost inaudible murmuring as she prepared her spells, and Tatev’s whispered prayers.
Erik glanced to Tatev and realized that for all of the man’s knowledge, he had no capacity to rationally deal with this kind of threat. This realization helped Erik put things into perspective. He steadied his gaze back on the doorway, realigned his grip on the sword, and listened to the snarling beasts beyond the barricaded door.
After a few moments the door snapped and the top of the pile shifted back, tumbling into the room. The lower half of the door was still intact, and the larger pieces of furniture still butted up snugly against it. Erik watched as Jaleal ran up the mound of wooden furniture and launched his spear through the small opening. A great shriek echoed through the hall and something heavy flopped onto the floor, thrashing and slamming itself around on the marble. The gnome then leapt down from his perch and his spear magically reappeared in his hand a moment later. Erik noticed that bubbling, dark maroon blood covered the top half of the shaft.
“One for me,” Jaleal said as he jerked his neck to the side, making a loud crack. The gnome moved back into place and readied himself for the next strike. The beasts on the other side of the door relentlessly rammed into the door time after time until finally the door splintered apart and the furniture was thrown down. A trio of huge, black beasts tore their way through the barricade. Foamy slobber dangled from their yellow fangs and their two inch long claws ripped the wooden furniture to bits as they clambered through.
Erik moved in deliberately, stepping to the left and hollering at the closest monster to catch its eye. The beast turned and lunged up at Erik’s throat, which is what he had planned on. Erik spun out farther to the left, slicing diagonally down across the monster’s neck and severing the head from its body as easily as though it had been a doll stuffed with straw. A silver flash flew in front of Erik and he knew that the gnome had slain another beast.
A gurgled growl emitted from the third werewolf as Lepkin ran his sword through the thing’s neck and then quickly pulled out to ram his sharp blade through the werewolf’s back and slice through its heart.
“Two for me!” Jaleal shouted out.
“Move gnome!” Dimwater commanded. A massive fireball soared through the air and blasted the doorway, disintegrating any furniture still left in the area. Horrid squeals and shrieks erupted from the doorway as the hot spell devoured several monsters.
Tatev screamed out then as the glass shattered in the back of the room and a pair of werewolves jumped in. Dimwater and Jaleal turned to face them, but two more monsters leapt through the burning doorway, snarling and eager for a kill. One of the beasts landed only inches from Erik. The boy brought his sword down to hack the head off, but the werewolf rolled away and then stood on its hind legs like a man. It rushed forward and swiped at Erik’s chest with its claws. Erik backpedaled just out of the way and countered with a swing at the werewolf’s unprotected torso. The tip of the flaming blade drew a sizzling, red line across the monster’s tight, muscled stomach, but it did no real damage. On the monster came, swinging its claws again before dropping to all four feet and lunging forward with its gaping maw.
Erik leapt out to the right and managed to block the biting attack with his sword. The blade bit into the side of the werewolf’s snout, but it only enraged the beast. It came in fast and then raised its torso up to slam its front shoulder into Erik’s chest, knocking the boy back into the wall.
It brought its teeth down, but Erik managed to squirm away, dropping down to a squat and then forcing his blade up into the werewolf’s chest, wiggling it roughly back and forth hoping he was hitting the monster’s heart. The black beast twitched and fell over onto the ground nearby.
Erik jumped back up to his feet and quickly scanned the area. Several more werewolves had infiltrated the room. Marlin and Tatev had even joined in the fighting now. Erik took a deep breath and approached his next target quietly from behind as it circled around Dimwater as she engaged three other werewolves. Erik waited for the right moment, and then, just as the beast hunched its back and prepared to lunge, he sprinted forward and brought his flaming blade down upon the beast’s neck. Then he rushed in and helped Dimwater drop another one with a quick thrust of his sword to the beast’s chest.
“Dimwater, the door!” Jaleal cried out.
Erik moved in to defend the open window and the sorceress spun around to whip another fireball at the doorway. A group of seven more were running into the room, but they were halted by a wall of lightning that moved like a living shield, pushing and zapping the monsters back out through the doorway. Jaleal moved around the purple, crackling wall, throwing his spear whenever he had an opening.
Erik couldn’t see the others. There were still several other beasts in the room between him and the other side. Not to mention the pair he was still struggling to finish off. One of them was bleeding heavily from its right foreleg, the other had a large, gaping gash in its hip area. Yet still he was finding it hard just to keep up with them. They were so fast, and they timed their attacks just so that one would advance right after the other, forcing Erik to move quickly to avoid injury, and not giving him a moment to breathe. He was in trouble, and he knew it.
Around him the others’ shouts and cries told him that they were starting to lose steam as well. Magic fire rippled through the air, followed by hissing, snarling gasps and shrieks, but the growls were growing more intense. He stole a quick glance as he spun away from another attack to see that there were more than twenty werewolves in the room. Bodies littered the floor, but still the savage monsters came on. They would not stop until they had caught their prey.
A sharp pain sliced through the side of Erik’s right leg. He flinched and instinctively pulled back out of reach as the beast came in for another swipe. Erik brought his sword down and severed the werewolf’s hand at the wrist. The beast howled in agony and curled up against the wall near the window.
The second werewolf lunged forward, but Erik was back in his rhythm. He feigned a step to the left and then darted right after the monster had changed course and thrust his sword down through its hairy back. He quickly pulled his sword out and then took a quick hack at the werewolf’s neck. Just as it fell to the floor, another one took its place. It launched through the window and came straight at Erik. Erik swung his sword up to counter, but the beast fell short, sliding on the floor with a grotesque squeeeeeak as its upper lip dragged across the stone.
A trio of gleaming shafts protruded from the back of its neck.
Erik looked to the window to see a tall, lean figure leaping through the opening. He had a bow in one hand and a blood-stained scimitar in the other. He whirled the scimitar around and gracefully stuck it through the heart of the three legged werewolf that was still hunkered down near the window. The monster let out a short, high-pitched squeal and then fell limp. The elf’s long, silver hair spun around as he danced in through the room with a fury Erik had never seen before. Every flash of the scimitar felled another monster, and even the bow was used to great effect as a staff as the elf rammed the bottom into a werewolf’s face to break its guard before coming in with his scimitar.
Another elf leapt in, firing a pair of arrows before Erik could even blink. One of the shafts sailed close enough to Erik’s face that it rustled his hair. Erik spun to see a werewolf catch the arrows in his neck and fall to the floor atop another slain monster’s body
. At that point, Erik noticed that several elves had entered through the door as well. They spun through the battle like green clad, scimitar wielding whirlwinds. In the blink of an eye, the fight was over and the last of the beasts fell.
The elves slid their scimitars into well-crafted black leather sheathes and surveyed the scene meticulously. Lepkin moved toward one of the elves and extended his hand.
“Where did you come from? We feared everyone had perished.”
The elf turned and grabbed Lepkin’s forearm in greeting. “Many of my people have been slain by these wretched beasts,” he said. “But we are not all dead.”
“How did you know we were here?” Dimwater asked as she stepped over a crisscrossed pair of bodies. “And where were you?”
“It is a long story,” the elf replied. “Better you come with us, and we will tell you along the way.”
“Are there more of them?” Marlin asked, staring at a hairy, headless corpse nearby.
“Not anymore, these were the last of them,” the elf replied evenly. “I am Talimdur, captain of the Tualdern guard. These are my best warriors.” Talimdur’s face turned sour as he frowned and looked to the ground. “We, along with seventeen others, are all that remain of the once mighty city.” Talimdur signaled for the others to exit the room. “We have little to offer you, I am afraid, but you are welcome to share whatever we have.”
Lepkin nodded. “We are grateful for anything you can spare.”
Talimdur smiled. “I was told that you had arrived with someone special.”
Lepkin nodded and gestured for Erik to come closer. “This is Erik Lokton, the Champion of Truth.”
Talimdur took in a slow breath as he looked Erik over from head to toe. “He is very young,” he observed.
“But he is strong,” Lepkin said proudly. “He has already been through many battles, and he has even routed Tu’luh the Red at Valtuu Temple.”