Exile's Gamble_The Chronicles of Shadow_Book II

by Lee Dunning

  The redhead stared. From where he perched on the swollen remains of a carrion cackler, W’rath pointed up. The First Born just managed to duck back through the door before a gelatinous slab sloughed off the ceiling and plopped to the floor with a squelch. W’rath presented a polite bow to the soldier. “Commander Orcbane, I presume?”

  “I am. I hope you’re Councilor W’rath.” The First Born took in the carnage spread about the hall. “We could have used your help sooner.”

  “I know,” W’rath said. He’d felt the lives wink out at the same time the explosion shook the castle. He hoped Lady Swiftbrook didn’t come to learn the cost of her clutching hands. “I cannot apologize enough. However, now that I’m here allow me to facilitate your group’s travel. I can transport us to the room where Lady Swiftbrook and Lord Icewind await us. From there it’s only a short trip to the throne room.”

  Orcbane stepped back into the room, making way for W’rath. The small elf strode in and studied the survivors. He immediately spotted Chalice Renoir. Nearby, another human with a swollen nose and two blackening eyes twitched with nervous energy. His black hair and beard stood out in such wild tufts he could pass for a lightning spell victim. A handful of red-armored soldiers stood at the ready and a green-armored lad kept vigil at the priest’s side. A silver-haired Sky Elf, looking more bedraggled than the rest of them combined, sagged against the wall next to the door.

  Across the room, a fire-veined stone golem spewed out flames and destroyed a seething mass as it streaked toward the room. Yes, definitely time to relocate.

  “Quickly,” W’rath said, “Commander, take my hand. The rest of you, form a ring. Anyone not part of the group will get left behind.”

  W’rath expected the priest to balk but he shoved the sword he carried through his belt and stepped right up to grasp the psion’s free hand. The crazed-looking human eyed the goings-on with suspicion. “What sort of mischief is this? I don’t trust foreign magic.”

  “You’re welcome to stay, Harry,” Renoir said. “Maybe you’ll give a demon fatal indigestion.”

  “I don’t care which option you choose,” W’rath interjected, “but decide quickly. I dallied once and it cost elven lives. Your parasite-riddled carcass is of no consequence to me.”

  “Fine!” the human said. “Stop you’re begging—I’ll join you.” He pushed his way into the circle, giving the elf soldiers to either side of him salacious winks. His face twisted with agony as both elves tightened their grips.

  W’rath cast a sideways glance at Renoir. “Let me guess, priest, he’s another of your so-called kings.”

  Renoir blinked. “How did you figure that out?”

  W’rath blew out an annoyed breath. “Just a hunch.” He flexed his mind and shifted them.

  K’hul’s elemental bellowed, almost drowning out the string of curses Lady Earthfire spewed in his direction. “I saved your life,” he snarled for the fiftieth time. His relief at surviving his spontaneous assault of his co-Warleader’s person, primarily because it took her a moment to realize one of her own had attacked her, evaporated as the hopelessness of their situation crashed back into him.

  They trudged through a nightmare land of twisted corpses, blackened ground, buzzing insects, and crows with beaks coated in scarlet. Ahead, the bulk of their people fought valiantly against the still-numerous enemy. The only consolation was the elemental had cleared the demons from the ground the pair had to cross to meet up with the rest of the army. For the moment, K’hul and Lady Earthfire traveled unmolested. “We’re almost there,” K’hul said when no more vitriol burned his ears.

  She didn’t answer. K’hul turned, careful of his still aching knee, to see she followed. Lady Earthfire’s wound continued to trickle blood even as her body worked to grow a new limb. She’d gone ashy and her legs, both real and false, dragged as she faded. Her outrage had kept her moving for a time but now even that couldn’t sustain her.

  By the First, I’ve boloxed things up. Every criticism his father, Historian and W’rath ever leveled at him hit K’hul in the gut. He wanted to scream and tear at his hair. Instead, he swallowed hard and trotted to Lady Earthfire’s side. She didn’t resist when he wrapped an arm around her waist and shouldered most of her weight. “I’m sorry,” he said. “There was no time to warn you.”

  “I know,” she said, voice raspy. “Losing so much blood is taking its toll, though, and I’m growing short on spare limbs. I don’t suppose you have any water?”

  “I don’t. Perhaps someone up ahead will.” K’hul rolled his eyes at the stupidity of the comment. He felt like he was fifty again. Could he do nothing right?

  The elemental screamed again and the two elves fell as the creature’s arm parted from its body and plummeted to the ground. The impact sent cracks across the earth. The air filled with dirt and debris. Lava gushed from its wound like blood. The things squirming across its shoulder perished in the gout but K’hul took little comfort from the fact.

  The dust storm enveloped K’hul and Lady Earthfire. The pair choked on the abrasive grime. “The golem won’t last much longer,” K’hul managed to get out.

  “Doesn’t have to,” Lady Earthfire said between coughs. “Make it charge those five bastards leading the demons. If it can kill even one of them before it falls apart, it might demoralize the lesser creatures.”

  K’hul didn’t argue. He tried to block out everything going on around him. He needed to find his center. It had eluded him since the fall off the tor. He muttered the words he used to call forth the creature and the magic snapped back into place, tethering him to the elemental. He sent his will to it. The way the ground heaved told him it obeyed.

  He dragged himself from the ground, hauling Lady Earthfire with him. The elemental, bits of stone and ash falling in its wake, pounded by. It took time for it to build up any speed but once it did even K’hul felt a thrill of terror at its power. He tracked its path back to the five demon lords. His mouth went dry. Only three squatted in the distance. “Where did the other two go?”

  As one, the two elves performed a staggering pirouette, expecting to find the fiends behind them. The field lay empty except for the dead and hungry scavengers. “Maybe they went invisible again,” Lady Earthfire said.

  “No, they’re gone,” K’hul said with certainty. “They left their friends to finish us off while they go to Castle Teres.” Kiara.

  The elemental continued to gain speed as it charged the devils. The three stopped spewing writhing missiles and switched to casting spells. The stone creature’s remaining arm exploded, sending shrapnel hundreds of feet around it. The demonic army fell into disarray as spears of stone struck them from behind. The elves retreated before the panicked monsters, raising magical shielding to seal themselves off from the deadly barrage of rubble. The squeals and shrieks of the demons rang across the field.

  Another spell hit the elemental. The force of the magic blasted one of its mountainous legs out from under it. Its momentum threw it forward to crash onto the devils like an earthen tidal wave. Lava and stone erupted in a devastating explosion. One of the horrors disappeared in the avalanche of stone. The other two warped space around themselves and reappeared on top of the now inert elemental.

  “Come on!” K’hul shouted. He pressed forward, practically carrying Lady Earthfire. He shouted out spells and more stone burst from the ground in dozens of spots, hindering the demons still trying to flee. His legs thundered. His breath roared inside his helmet.

  The soldiers ahead of the two dropped the shielding and threw themselves anew into the melee with the demoralized demons. A shout went up when K’hul and Lady Earthfire drew close enough for the soldiers to recognize them. A party ran out to form a protective circle around the struggling warlords. Someone eased Lady Earthfire from K’hul’s grip.

  “Commander Firemane?” K’hul asked.

  The soldier closest to him shook his head. “Dead, sir. When your elemental started to founder, we didn’t hold out much hope for
you or Lady Earthfire.”

  One of the few surviving mages pushed his way through the press and knelt next to Lady Earthfire. He studied her regenerating arm before fishing out a water skin. “Honeyed water,” he said, thrusting it at her.

  She snatched it up and took a long pull from it. “Will I live?” she asked the mage with a tired grin.

  “I hope so,” the mage replied. “If not, I’ve just wasted my water on you.”

  “Your bedside manner needs work,” the elfess muttered and struggled back to her feet. She winced as more bone issued forth. Flesh and tendon rippled forth to grow around it. “Dome off this rabble you’re fighting and turn your attention to those grotesqueries squatting on Lord K’hul’s elemental.”

  Belatedly she turned to K’hul to include him. He scowled but nodded. Without his elemental to keep them busy, the creatures would focus on the elves’ exhausted army. “The devils pose the real threat. Better to face them now than let them whittle us down as we fight their minions.”

  As if to prove K’hul’s point, the devils started up an ululating incantation. The air shivered and a wave of sound hit, plowing into the demons first. A few demons clutched their heads, shrieked and collapsed but many lacked normal hearing or even ears. The spell flowed on, tearing into the elves, bursting their eardrums.

  Agony and vertigo sent K’hul to the ground. He fought to his knees, struggling to stay conscious as his vision spun. The world fell completely silent. “Seal us off!” he yelled but doubted anyone could hear him.

  Lady Earthfire dragged herself to his side, a snarl of hate etched into her stern face, blood dripping from her ears and nose. She shouted something but K’hul’s deafened ears couldn’t make it out. She shook his arm and gestured in the direction of the devils. There, behind the hellions, five azure gateways popped into existence.

  Lady Culna’mo’s army had arrived.

  Chapter 23

  W’rath nodded in satisfaction. Everyone he’d started out with from the tower room now occupied Lord Icewind’s suite. Most of them had gone green, unused to the sensation of teleportation, but overall they appeared hale. “Madam,” he said, acknowledging Lady Swiftbrook as she exited the back room.

  She scrutinized the new arrivals. “Where is the queen?” she asked.

  Chalice Renoir flinched and dropped his head. “Something out of our worst nightmares crashed through the outer wall. When the wall came down, the stones crushed her as well as the heads of our church. I’m sorry, but a number of your people perished in the attack as well.”

  Lady Swiftbrook’s normally imperious expression crumpled. “The explosion,” she said. Her filling eyes sought out W’rath and quashed his hope she’d fail to connect the deaths of those in the tower to her attempts to keep him from heading out alone. “If I hadn’t held you back …”

  W’rath’s voice dropped to a gentle murmur. “Madam, you could not know.”

  “Maybe not but a great many people are relying on us to do our jobs, and I’m failing miserably at mine.” She blinked the tears away and called over her shoulder to those still in the back room. “Everyone up—it’s time to go.”

  The rest of the soldiers poured out, followed by Lady Winterdawn and Lord Icewind. The councilor swayed and his apprentice took his arm to steady him. He went rigid but stayed her hand when she tried to pull away. “It’s all right,” he said. He gave her a shy smile before dropping his gaze.

  W’rath shook his head. It apparently took a disaster to bring Lord Icewind out of his shell. Unfortunately, the situation wouldn’t allow for the quiet exploration of young love. He marched up the couple, sparing Lady Winterdawn a polite nod before addressing the woozy mage. “I need you to pull yourself together, Councilor. You’ve already given much but we’ll need more from you if we’re to make it to the throne room and beyond.”

  Thankfully, Lady Winterdawn, didn’t protest and as W’rath hoped, his direct approach got through to Lord Icewind. “I’ll do what I can,” he said. “The wards are a lost cause, though.”

  W’rath waved off the notion of the wards. “Raising them again would gain us nothing while enemies with the skill to dismantle them run loose in the castle. I’m more interested in your impressive ice magic. Most of the creatures we’ll meet possess significant resistance to fire, however if we continue to utilize your freezing spells in conjunction with the First Born’s flames, we’ll gain a significant force to use against those standing against us.”

  Lady Winterdawn’s eyes grew large at the mention of her mentor’s non-diviner based abilities. Lord Icewind flushed but stood a little straighter. W’rath suspected the mage didn’t often receive compliments concerning his magical prowess. That he kept his skill with ice magic a secret no doubt had a story behind it. W’rath sighed and added it to the growing list of curiosities he’d run across since taking up residence on First Home. He retrieved the sword Lord Icewind used during their visit to the sewers and handed to him. “You may have further need of this.”

  “You know how to use a sword?” Lady Winterdawn said, awe tinging her words.

  W’rath chuckled, leaving the flustered mage to explain about the use of foci. Lord Orcbane broke off his discussion with Lady Swiftbrook as the psion approached. “I take it you can’t teleport us directly to the throne room?”

  “With the number of people in our group and the crowded conditions of the throne room, we’d most likely kill ourselves popping in like that. However, we have a number of skilled casters among the First Born. With Lord Icewind’s assistance, I believe we stand an excellent chance of reaching the throne room by more mundane travel.”

  A grim smile found its way onto Lord Orcbane’s face as W’rath explained the potent combination of ice magic and fire magic. He immediately assigned the three First Born who had accompanied W’rath and Lord Icewind earlier to work with the mage again. He excused himself to speak with the humans.

  Lady Swiftbrook gazed at the diviner with newfound respect before addressing W’rath. “So you were serious when you denied killing Lord Darson—I had no idea Kiat could wield offensive magic.”

  “It would seem he prefers to keep such knowledge quiet,” W’rath said. “During our last foray, I recall his adamant claim concerning his specialization in the ‘subtle’ arts. I thought him a coward, unwilling to step onto a battlefield. However, his many fears do not extend to combat. He handled himself admirably against Lord Darson and again during our encounters in the sewers.”

  Lord Orcbane returned. “We’re ready. There’s enough room for people to travel three abreast. I plan to keep the priest and a pair of soldiers in back. The human is decent with magic and motivated to help get us to the throne room so he can reunite with his family.”

  “Excellent,” W’rath replied. He cocked an eyebrow in Lady Swiftbrook’s direction. “I’ve restrained myself from prying, madam, but I feel the need to inquire into your spellcasting capabilities.”

  “If that’s your roundabout way of asking if I can do more than rub my feet on the carpet and shock people, then yes, I’m quite capable of hurling a lightning bolt or two.” The Sky Elf drew herself up in a dignified huff and marched over to the scrying bowl where she scooped up the damning ring and pushed it into a pouch on her belt. “I’m ready now,” she said.

  W’rath clapped his hands together in anticipation. “Delightful! Let us get to the business of eradicating the scoundrels.”

  Lady Swiftbrook positioned herself to the front of the group. The empty state of the hallway struck her as ominous. “Are you sure about the wisdom of putting them to the front?” she asked W’rath as he waved Lord Icewind and Lady Winterdawn over to join her.

  “We need his spells and he needs her support. As long as he can cast without fully collapsing, keep him up front with you.” W’rath said. Once Lord Icewind and Lady Winterdawn drew closer, he continued. “Don’t forget to duck after you throw your spells—the lads behind you proved quite enthusiastic with their fire magic.”

&n
bsp; “And where will you be?” Lady Swiftbrook gave W’rath a narrow-eyed stare. She hoped to project sour mistrust rather than the fluttering worry eating at her.

  He patted her hand. “I am touched by your concern, madam. I shall scout ahead of the group, thinning the herd of interlopers and warning you of any significant peril. Allow me a moment, though, I need to put into motion our final advantage.”

  “You’re contacting Kela?” She didn’t have to fake her dubious expression this time. When W’rath had divulged his plan to keep Kela and her archers in reserve, she’d simply rolled her eyes. What he expected the Wood Elves to accomplish over that of their more magically inclined cousins, she couldn’t fathom. She respected the spirit and courage of the arboreal elves but she couldn’t imagine them making any kind of a difference in the manmade hallways of the castle. Hells, she didn’t know how they’d even make it into the castle.

  W’rath gave her a knowing smile, as if he guessed her thoughts. At least he’d better be guessing. She scowled at his back as he scampered along the hall and dropped out of sight down the stairs. She gave one last inspection to those at her side before signaling for everyone they were moving out.

  Ahead in the distance, a lone cackle echoed along the stones.

  Raven groaned and tried to lift her head. An orcish war party hammered at the inside of her skull. She panicked for a moment, thinking herself back on the battlefield, melting under the cruelty of acid fire. Then her memories sorted themselves out and she remembered the smothering weight of the gryphon and her desperate struggle to call upon her healing magic once again. Things went black soon after that.

  The young Shadow Elf warrior cracked open her eyes. Brilliant blue sky made her wince. When a shadow interposed itself between her and the sky, she sighed in relief.