Richard watched Simon quietly for a moment. He rubbed his chin and then shrugged.
“You may be right, sir wizard. Or you may be wrong. The cause is irrelevant at the moment. The town is in peril now.”
He looked up at the clouded night sky.
“There is perhaps an hour until first light. If we can hold them off until dawn, we can start looking for answers then.”
Simon stood silently, thinking that sunrise couldn't come fast enough. They had to know where these undead were coming from. Then maybe they could find a way to stop them.
With a sudden pop, Aeris appeared a few feet away. At the same time, a pile of frozen earth was pushed aside and Kronk climbed into view.
“The rear gate is secure,” Aeris told them. “Virginia, Eric and the others have beaten back the attacks there fairly easily, they tell me. It seems that this entrance is the main target of the undead.”
Clara struggled to rise and Richard hurried to support her.
“Thank you, my friend,” she said. “And thanks to you two,” she told the elementals, both of whom bowed slightly. “With any luck, the attacks have stopped. If not, the monsters have very little time to mount another assault before the sun rises.”
As if her words were a signal, one of the guards on the wall began waving at them frantically.
“Here they come again,” she yelled. It sounded like Lynn. “A wave of them. It's hard to say for sure, but it looks like the biggest wave yet.”
“There's something in front of them!” another guard added. His voice trembled with fear. “Some big black thing.”
“Big black thing?” Richard said with a frown. “Another type of undead?”
“Just what we need,” Clara said, sounding tired. “Well, my friends, get ready. Hopefully this is the last of them. Stand your ground, do your best and we'll get through this.”
Simon smiled at her and then hurried back to stand behind the hay bales at the gate. Kronk and Aeris followed, one on either side.
Richard patted the cleric's hand lightly and then turned to scramble up a ladder to the walkway. He clanked along the parapet until he was standing next to the guards looking over the wall.
“Can you see what it is?” Clara called up to him. She had moved slowly to stand behind Simon where she could see her people and direct them if needed.
“No, the blasted torches are fading out there. I see a tall shadowy thing in front of the walking corpses, but I can't see any details.”
He waited and Simon held his breath. What else could be coming for them?
“They're about fifty yards out, moving slowly.”
Richard leaned forward, straining to see through the darkness and Simon looked back at Clara while he waited. She was watching the big man intently.
“Wait a minute. They've stopped!” he called down. “I don't know what...”
He suddenly turned and waved both hands at all of them gathered below, as if trying to push them back.
“Quick! Get back from the gates! I think that thing is casting...”
Whatever he'd been trying to say was lost in the sound of a huge explosion. The gates were hit with terrific force and literally blew apart. Simon raised Bene-Dunn-Gal without thinking and cast his Shield spell faster than he had ever dreamed was possible.
The air around him turned opaque and a bubble of force shot outwards, covering not only Simon and the elementals, but Clara and the other townspeople who had been gathered nearby.
Thank you for the boost, Bene-Dunn-Gal, he thought gratefully. Blood was flowing down his wrist from his palm, but Simon considered it a small price to pay.
The air was thick with smoke and stone dust but the shield kept most of it out. Simon held up the staff with both hands, keeping the spell stable, and around him everyone peered through the cloudy air, trying to see the gate.
“Thank the gods you had that spell ready, my friend,” Clara whispered from beside him.
“Just lucky, I guess,” Simon answered. “But what's happened to Richard and the rest of the guards? I wish they'd been down here with us.”
“So do I.”
They waited for the chilly breeze to clear away the smoke and dust and, when they could finally see the gates, Simon stared, appalled.
The gates had been almost vaporized. The hinges hung twisted and limp from the walls but the gates were gone. On either side, the top of the walls had been smashed and had fallen in. The walkways were gone for about a dozen feet on each side and Richard and the guards were nowhere to be seen.
“My God,” Simon said in disbelief. “Where are they?”
From behind him, someone screamed and he turned to see a young woman, one hand covering her mouth, pointing toward the nearest small house. A body was hanging head down from the roof. One arm was missing.
There was no way to tell which guard it was. All of their armor was the same, dark iron, and they couldn't see the person's face.
Clara gasped and then began to run toward the house.
“No. Clara. Wait!” Simon called.
“Watch the gate,” she yelled back without looking. “I have to care for my people.”
The shield hissed and sparkled as the cleric left its protection, followed by the other half-dozen townsfolk. Simon was left alone with just Kronk and Aeris for company.
He turned back to the gaping hole where the gates had been and watched for any movement.
“What kind of creature can do that?” he asked the elementals as he stood guard, the shield snapping and popping around him.
“None that I know of, master,” Kronk said from his left.
Aeris remained silent and Simon finally turned to look at him hovering to his right at shoulder level.
“Cat got your tongue?” he asked.
Aeris looked at Simon and his expression was one of pure fear. Simon had never seen that look on the elemental's face before, and that included the time that he had been drawn back into his own plane.
“Aeris? What is it?”
“There's only one creature in the ranks of the undead that could cast a powerful spell like that. But it isn't possible. No, I can't believe that even the dark gods would loose something that foul into the world.”
“What are you talking about? Damn it, Aeris, answer me!”
From the darkness beyond the ruin gate came a high, tittering laugh and Simon tore his eyes from Aeris' expression and looked toward that evil noise.
“Oh my God,” he whispered. “I know that voice. But it can't be...her.”
“Her, master? Who is that?”
Again, that shrill, high-pitched cackle echoed out of the night beyond the walls and now a voice, as brittle as old bones and as dry as sand, began to speak.
“There you are, my lovely one. How delightful. Did I not tell you that I had a present for you? And you ran away from me. That was very naughty of you. And so impolite.”
Simon tried to speak and his voice caught in his throat. He swallowed dryly and tried again.
“Madam?” he called out. “Is that you?”
“Oh how sweet. You remember me! You remember how I promised you a gift, don't you? And since you left me so abruptly, I've decided to deliver it in person. You should be flattered, my darling child. Madam doesn't do this sort of favor for just anyone, you know.”
There was a crackle and a hiss from behind him and Simon whirled to see Clara running back through the shield.
“By all the gods, Simon. Who is that out there?” she asked desperately.
“Something that calls itself Madam,” he told her quietly. “I ran into it when I visited Ottawa, over a year ago. It, she, whatever, was hunting Changlings who were living in the ruins there. I have no idea what she is.”
“There are Changlings in Ottawa?” Clara asked with wide eyes. “Why didn't you tell us?”
He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the gap in the wall.
“I thought I did. They aren't interested in leaving the city. They've made it the
ir home. And they have strange powers. I don't think they'd appreciate a visit from any of us.”
“I can hear you whispering in there,” Madam called out. Clara shivered at the sound. “And I can feel someone with you. Is it the cleric? Wonderful! My masters wanted her dealt with and now I have my little poppet of a wizard here as well. Two birds with one stone, as we used to say.”
“So what happened to Sarah and her friends?” Simon shouted, more to stall for time than anything else. Dawn was approaching and maybe he could keep the creature talking until it was too late to attack.
“Ah, that one,” Madam answered, her voice now a hiss of malevolence. “Well, thanks to you, dearie, I was able to catch up to the little urchins. They are now part of my lovely family. Isn't that nice? No more trouble from them. And don't be so concerned. Soon you and the others in there with you will become my children as well. One big happy family. I hope you're as excited as I am.”
That cackling laughter cut through the air again and Simon had to wipe the sweat from his palms before his staff slipped from his grasp.
“If we only knew what she was,” Clara whispered. “We might find a way to stop her. Or at least hold her back until sunrise.”
Simon stole a quick glance at the sky, but the elusive light of pre-dawn was nowhere to be seen.
“I think I might know what we are dealing with,” Aeris said in a small, tense voice.
Both Simon and Clara looked at him in surprise.
“You do?” Simon asked.
“Perhaps. I could be wrong. I hope that I am. But with the evidence of her power...” he pointed at the destroyed gate, “I'm afraid that I might just be right.”
“Well, what is she?” Clara asked somewhat impatiently.
“Only a wizard is strong enough to cast a spell like the one that smashed the gates,” the elemental told them.
“She's not a wizard,” Simon said hotly. “Wizards don't command the dead.”
Surprisingly, Aeris nodded.
“Exactly, Simon. But a dead wizard can. That's what I think we are dealing with here. She's a lich. Or so I believe. And if she is, then may the Four Winds have mercy on us.”
“A lich?” Clara asked. “Then that means that she is undead, like those walking corpses she commands.”
“That is true.”
“In that case, she has to be vulnerable to the same things that they are, doesn't it? My spells against the undead should affect her.”
“Possibly,” Aeris said. “But not as much as those walking bundles of bones. She may be discomforted but I doubt that it would be more than that.”
“I can hear that you are still chatting with each other,” Madam's voice cut in. “But I'm a little pressed for time at the moment. Don't worry though. You'll have all the time in the world to chit-chat when I adopt you into my family.”
There was a pause.
“Now, my children,” that hateful voice shrieked suddenly. “Take them in my name! Bring them into the houses of the dead!”
“Everyone, get back!” Simon shouted. “I have to drop the shield to cast.”
He moved back away from the ruined gates as he spoke and Clara and the elementals moved with him.
From the darkness, a shuffling, staggering mass of rotting corpses slowly came into view. Simon gagged at the stench of putrescence that wafted ahead of them.
Some were missing limbs, others were eyeless. One or two were so rotten that their lower jaws had fallen off and they oozed green goo from their gaping throats.
The wizard heard Clara begin to whisper and he cut her off.
“Wait a second,” he said as he watched the army of undead shamble toward them. “Let me try something first. Save your strength for their leader.”
The cleric didn't respond but she stopped chanting.
Simon held up Bene-Dunn-Gal in both hands, holding it horizontally as he spoke an incantation.
“Invectis!” he cried as he triggered the spell.
The staff quivered in seeming delight as it bit deeply into both hands and then burst into a red radiance.
Directly in front of the mindless attackers, a wall of fire shot straight up from the earth. The zombies ignored it and kept walking.
They went up like torches. The heat of the flames was so intense that the scattered piles of snow within a dozen feet instantly turned to steam.
Simon and the others fell back from the blast of heat as the undead continued to walk into the fire. They burned like oil-soaked rags.
“Stop! Stop!” the voice of Madam screamed in rage. “I command you to stop!”
It was too late. Dozens of the undead were burning and the fire leaped from one shuffling corpse to the next like a living thing. Bene-Dunn-Gal shook in Simon's hands and he seemed to hear a far-off laughter, as if the staff was delighted at the carnage. He was sure that it was.
Choking smoke, smelling of cooked, rotting meat, filled the air. Simon kept wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he held the staff steady. Beside him, Clara coughed raggedly, but mixed in was the sound of her vengeful laughter.
“Wonderful, Simon. That will show that monster that we aren't her helpless victims.”
“Not so fast,” Aeris said urgently. “Don't mock the thing. These corpses were only the first volley in her attack.”
Simon glanced at him and Aeris nodded his head vigorously.
“Oh great,” he muttered. “I only have two spells left and no time to memorize more.”
He lowered the staff and leaned against it heavily.
“Then let's hope they're good ones, my dear wizard,” Aeris said earnestly.
“Yeah, right.”
All of the undead were now in flames. At a guess, Simon thought that they'd destroyed at least fifty of the horrible things. He wondered how many people had been killed and made undead on Madam's journey from Ottawa.
From the inky darkness beyond the walls, they could hear Madam cursing and hissing insanely as her 'children' burned like so much kindling. Simon looked up again and felt a faint twinge of hope. The sky was turning a very faint shade of pink. Dawn was coming.
“How are Richard and the others?” he asked Clara as they waited to see what the lich would do next.
She sighed and he looked at her in time to see tears wash two narrow tracks in the soot on her face. They were both covered in it.
“Richard's dead, Simon,” she said with a catch in her voice. “So are the other guards. Eight in all.”
Simon grew cold and a heavy lump seemed to settle in his belly.
“Lynn too?” he asked with dread.
Clara could only nod.
“God damn it!” he said with mingled grief and fury. “What the hell did we ever do to deserve this, except survive?”
He turned and glared out through the walls at the slowly fading darkness.
“Come on, you bitch!” he shouted suddenly. “If you've got any more, then let's get on with it!”
Madam's cursing stopped abruptly. And then they saw movement beyond the wall. A tall shadowy figure glided toward them and, as it finally entered the torchlight and stopped in between the ruined gates, Simon and Clara gasped in unison. Behind them, several people screamed.
Black robes, tattered and filthy, covered the tall creature that glared at them. Madam floated a foot above the ground and reared up almost seven feet higher than that. Only her hands were visible, skeletal and covered in thin, tattered skin. Her face was hidden deep inside the cowl of her robe, but huge eyes, like red flame, burned from within. Like Simon, she carried a staff, although this one looked more like a twisted tree branch, dead and brittle.
The cowl turned this way and that, surveying the crowd and then looking down at the heaps of ashes which were all that remained of her followers.
“Oh, that was cruel, child,” she croaked, her voice low and tortured, sounding like breaking glass. “Cruel to destroy my family. It took me so much time to adopt so many. Now I shall have to start again.”
; The eyes gazed balefully at him and Simon held up Bene-Dunn-Gal as if it were a shield.
“Oho! Look at the pretty staff you wield. Is it a gift for Madam? It should be, as payment for all the trouble you've caused me.”
A bony hand extended toward Simon.
“Give it to me and I'll let you live, for now. Time is short anyway and I need some rest.”
Simon stared at the lich and watched her fingers crook as if grasping the staff. He watched the creature silently, thinking fast.
“You aren't thinking of actually giving that thing to her, are you?” Aeris asked with wide eyes. “Do you know what a creature like that could do with a relic as powerful as that staff?”
“Simon, don't do it,” Clara said urgently. “Dawn is almost here. We can hold her back until then.”
“Can we?” he muttered, still watching the eager lich. “You can barely stand, my friend. And I don't think that the spells I have left will be enough to stop her.”
“But to give her your staff? That's...”
“Insane,” Aeris said shortly.
“Maybe so, Aeris.” Simon told him. When the elemental began to argue again, the wizard waved at him to be quiet.
'Bene-Dunn-Gal, can you hear me?' Simon asked silently.
The staff quivered slightly in his hand.
'I'm guessing that you probably wouldn't like belonging to an evil, undead creature like Madam, would you?'
There was a surge of warmth in his palms as the staff responded.
'I didn't think so. I'd like you to do me a favor, if you would. Show her your dislike.'
The staff went quiet in his hands and Simon hid a grim smile. He looked at the lich, who was slowly inching forward as if to tear the staff from his grasp.
“Before I give you my staff, Madam, I want your word. Your word that you will leave us alone.”
“Of course, dearie. I give you my word,” she squealed eagerly.
Simon pulled back the staff and held up a hand. Madam hissed in anger.
“Uh-uh. I want your word that you won't attack us for at least, oh let's say a month. And I want you to swear on your dark gods to that effect.”
The Dragons Revenge (Tales from the New Earth #2) Page 14