She would just have to step up her efforts to persuade him. She suppressed a shudder at the thought of what she might have to do. No, she was resolute. If Ewzad wouldn't let her leave, the joke was on him. She would end up running his little dukedom and if he didn't like it, he could just send her back to Dremald.
Elise giggled at the thought of driving the duke crazy. She decided to start her plans right away. No longer would she sit in Ewzad’s library pretending to be interested in his boring books. But where to start? She needed more than just feminine wiles. She needed leverage.
She looked about to make sure that no one was around to see her and snuck down a side hallway. For once she was glad that the Duke hadn’t given her many servants. They would just be in the way.
Elise had only been in this area of the castle once before, but she knew that Ewzad’s room was down there somewhere. Long ago, Ewzad had taught her that a person’s private quarters was the best place to find out their secrets. Perhaps she would find something in his room that would tell her how to best implement her plans. She might even find something of such a deliciously sensitive nature that she would not have to stoop to any baser methods of getting her way at all. The thought of using Ewzad’s teachings against him was a delectable one.
The long hallway was unlike the other parts of the castle. There were no tapestries, no silver candelabra, only a single red striped carpet that covered the floor. There were also no rooms off of the hall, only a few closets.
The hallway ended in a single gold inlaid door. As she approached it, she couldn’t help but smile. It felt like the old days before her father banished Ewzad when they used to plot together and sneak around. That was when Ewzad Vriil had been her friend.
Elise looked around to make sure that she was still alone, then reached into the deep pockets of her dress and found the little box holding the lock picks Ewzad had given her as a gift years ago. First, she tried the doorknob gently to see how stiff the resistance would be. To her surprise, the door opened. Why would Ewzad forget to lock his door?
One of the first things Ewzad had taught her was to always keep your sensitive items secure. One must never leave their bedroom unlocked and if possible they should have a secondary lock in case the first one failed. She had taken that advice to heart. Even her servants couldn’t get into her rooms unless she was present. Which reminded her, those rooms were going to need a thorough dusting by the time she got home.
The first thing she noticed once she had stepped inside the room was the temperature. It was hot, stiflingly so. There was also the unpleasant smell of stale sweat. Ewzad hadn’t taken care of himself since acquiring his precious rings. He used to be so fastidious.
She had expected to find a large elaborate bed like the one in his rooms in Castle Dremald, but the bed here was pitiful, little more than a cot with a few pillows on it. A large desk piled high with arcane instruments took up the majority of the room. This was where Elise decided to start.
As she passed the bed, Elise found the source of the heat in the room. There was a large wrapped bundle in the corner, about waist high. It was egg-shaped and a faint red glow emanated from it. She thought to inspect it, but the heat around the thing was so intense that she wondered how the blankets wrapping it didn’t go up in flames. Elise decided to leave it alone. There was no sense in burning herself.
She eyed the conglomeration of items that cluttered Ewzad’s desk. It would be a challenge, but she set her mind to remembering where everything was so that she could replace it all just as she found it. Ewzad had taught her well.
There were books written in languages she couldn’t decipher, a bag full of small animal bones, a mirrored piece of glass . . . Then an item caught her attention. It was a small box made out of a dark wood with a strange grain. Tiny precious gems were inset in the top, forming some kind of symbol.
Elise started to open it, but hesitated. A bit of fear traveled up her spine. There was most likely magic involved in most of the items in this room. Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to know any of Ewzad’s secrets. The more she found out about him, the more she knew he had changed from the Ewzad of old. Did she really want to know anything more?
She reminded herself of what was at stake. Her backbone stiffened once more. She had made her decision and she would stick to it. She opened the box, and gazed upon the jeweled dagger inside. The metal was stained with a brown powder that looked like dried blood. She started to put it away, but something pricked her mind.
She opened the box back up and saw that the silken lining in the bottom had a crease across the center. Why would there be a crease there? She picked up the dagger and felt a sense of menace emanating from it. With a look of distaste, she quickly set it aside and pulled on the material in the corner of the box. It lifted up slightly. Sure enough the bottom of the box was hinged. There was a secret compartment underneath. Elise was thrilled at her find until she saw what rested inside.
It was her father’s ring.
Hamford was frozen with fear. The demon’s head moved back and forth as if following a scent. It was looking straight at his door. Could it see him? Surely it couldn’t. From the outside, the control room door looked like solid steel. Yet it slowly moved his way. Then it leapt.
The demon hit the door with a loud clang and Hamford screamed despite himself. It began scratching at the surface of the door, then pressed its hideous face against it. Its lips pulled back to reveal razor sharp teeth. It began fumbling at the handle.
Even though Hamford knew that the door was locked, he panicked. Hurriedly, he pulled on the first lever his hand found. There was a sharp clank and a door in the far passageway started to open. Hamford had released the Wildersnatch.
The Wildersnatch was once a simple budge, a large hairy beast that Ewzad Vriil found in the jungle. Once she had fed off fruits and the occasional monkey. Now she was a ferocious killer. Hamford had seen her tear a prisoner up in seconds.
Deathclaw knew that the human Hamford was inside the solid door. He didn’t know what he would do when he caught the human, but he was looking forward to finding out. His brood mate’s smell was thick in this passageway and Deathclaw had a feeling that the human knew where she was.
A noise made the raptoid turn his head and he watched as a cage door opened further down the passageway. He caught the scent of a large beast, just as a roaring mass of fur and claws leapt out. Deathclaw hissed back at the solid door behind him before meeting the beast’s charge.
Deathclaw sensed that the beast was dangerous, but he had faced many foul monsters in his desert past. Just as he was about to collide with the beast, Deathclaw rolled to the side and struck deeply into her midsection with his tail spike. Strangely, he felt little resistance. The creature’s fur was deceptively deep and his spike left little more that a gash in the creature’s hide.
The Wildersnatch swung around and grabbed the Deathclaw’s tail. The tail had only just grown back, he wasn’t about to lose it again. He contorted around and bit into her forearm. She tried to jerk her arm away, but he wouldn’t let go.
She roared in fury and lifted Deathclaw over her head. As she reared back to throw him against the wall, Deathclaw released her forearm, burrowed through the fur at the base of her head and bit down on the back of her neck.
As soon as she felt his teeth, the Wildersnatch took a mighty leap upwards. Deathclaw almost lost his grip but held firm, grabbing fistfuls of fur with his hands and slashing madly with his feet hoping to tear something important. The powerful jump carried both creatures to the top of the ceiling fifteen feet above.
She gripped the chains that ran along the top of the ceiling and pulled her feet up. Deathclaw found himself clinging to her while upside down. He bit down harder and the Wildersnatch howled in pain. She set her feet against the ceiling, let go of the chains, and and launched herself towards the rock floor.
The Wildersnatch was half again the size of Deathclaw and as they hurtled towards the floor, Deat
hclaw saw everything happen in slow motion. He knew that all of their combined weight would be focused on him at impact. He held on to her neck with his teeth, gripped her tightly with his arms and legs, and arched his back with all his might.
Hamford felt the impact through the rock floor. Instead of landing on Deathclaw’s back as the Wildersnatch had intended, Deathclaw’s mid air contortions had caused her to land on her head. The force of the contact cracked her skull and knocked Deathclaw loose. He took part of her with him.
With a spurt of blood, Deathclaw’s teeth ripped out flesh and spinal column. He lost a tooth in the process, but the Wildersnatch collapsed and the wizard’s enchantments on her body were disrupted. Smoke rose from her remains as the modified parts of her body began to break down.
Hamford shrieked as the Wildersnatch died. Hurriedly, he released the rest of Ewzad Vriil’s creations. The doors opened. Surely the demon couldn’t destroy them all. He waited to see how it would handle these multiple enemies.
Though still a bit stunned from the fall, Deathclaw knew what was happening. The sounds meant more creatures were coming. From their smells, he knew they would be both large and vicious. He spat the remnants of the Wildersnatch from his mouth, and spat again, and again. The taste of the blood would not leave. The smell of the beast’s blood surged through his nostrils. Deathclaw’s mouth watered. His blood seethed with desire for battle and he knew what to do.
Hamford watched with amazement as Deathclaw ignored the impulses in his blood. He burrowed under the smoking furry remains of the Wildersnatch and waited. The altered dragon quivered with the amount of self control it took to keep from attacking.
One by one, Ewzad Vriil’s most frightening creations emerged from their cells: The Rock Scorpion, the razor-limbed Whip, Datch, Viscyr, the immense Moat Monster, and the mutated giant Ewzad called The Clench, all of them fearsome beasts. They emerged from their prisons and stopped. They couldn’t see Deathclaw underneath all that fur.
Hamford cursed. If they couldn’t find the demon, they would pour into the dungeons instead. But there was one other problem. They too smelled the blood of the Wildersnatch.
There was something that Hamford hadn’t known about the creature the Wildersnatch had been created from. In the Jungle, budges stayed together in large family groups. They were peaceful creatures and easy prey for any predators. As a defense mechanism, their bodies had developed a pheromone in their blood that drove their attackers mad with hunger. Any attacking predators became so busy fighting each other over the body of the fallen budge that the rest of the herd could escape.
This trait is the reason Ewzad had captured the beast in the first place. He had many vials of the beast’s blood stored for use in combat situations. His mistake had been keeping the beast so close to his other creations.
Each of Ewzad’s monsters fell under the spell of the Wildersnatch’s blood. All at once, they went into a fury and attacked each other. The Clench picked up Whip in a bear hug. Viscyr slashed at The Moat Monster. It was chaos.
It took every ounce of control that Deathclaw had to resist the pheromones in the Wildersnatch’s blood. He felt the effects worse than the other beasts. Its blood was in his mouth and ran down his back as it still leaked from its remains, but he pushed the madness away. There were creatures in the desert that used similar tactics and he had long ago learned not to react. He stayed in his hiding place and watched the other monsters fight, searching out their weaknesses.
Hamford stared in abject horror at the spectacle. What was his master going to do to him when it was over. It didn’t make sense. Ewzad Vriil had trained his creations not to attack each other.
The fighting was ferocious, but it didn’t last long. These creatures were trained to kill. Soon most of Ewzad’s creations were reduced to piles of melting flesh. Only two of the monsters were left standing.
The Clutch still stood, but he had been stung by The Rock Scorpion and his flesh had been left in tatters by the flailing razor sharp limbs of Whip. Viscyr, on the other hand, had killed the Moat Monster easily and was unharmed.
Both of Ewzad Vriil’s remaining creations went for the Wildersnatch’s body at once and collided together. Before The Clench could bring his massive arms to bear, Viscyr had opened his belly up with its wicked claws. The giant tried to scoop his guts back in, but it was too late. Viscyr’s next slash was to his throat.
Deathclaw watched Viscyr screech in victory from the safety of the Wildersnatch’s voluminous fur. He thought he had found a weakness, though it looked to be impossible to get to.
Viscyr was a bit taller than Deathclaw and walked on two claw-tipped legs. Its skin was made up of hardened scales covered in sharp spikes. Its head was that of a bird of prey with a powerful sharpened beak. Viscyr’s main weapons were a set of clawed appendages extending from its shoulders and a smaller set of pincer-tipped arms underneath.
Hamford watched from the safety of the control room as Viscyr went for the Wildersnatch’s body. Suddenly, he was struck by another question. Where was Talon? He had released her with the others. Why hadn’t she emerged from her cell yet?
Talon chose that moment to dart out of her cell. She had been as overwhelmed with the Wildersnatch’s blood as the others, but she was smarter. She had stayed in her cell and waited to emerge when the time was right. It was now.
Viscyr had turned its back to her.
Talon got to Viscyr so quickly that it didn’t have time to react. She leapt onto its shoulders, grasped its beak in her hands, and pulled in an effort to break its neck. But Viscyr’s muscular neck was too strong. It struggled and slashed at her with its clawed appendages.
Talon’s attack had given Deathclaw the opening he had been waiting for. He leapt from his concealment under the pile of fur, flipped and sent his tail barb into the weak spot that he had seen under Viscyr’s throat. It was the one part of the beast’s body not covered in hardened scales. The barb tore muscles, arteries and tendons.
Talon let out a hiss of pleasure and ripped Viscyr’s head free from its body with a spray of gore.
Deathclaw watched Talon throw the bird-like head to the ground with mixed feelings. The wizard had changed her even more than when he had last seen her. Aspects of her looked so . . . human. Now that he had finally found his sister, Deathclaw didn’t know what to do.
Talon didn’t have the same concerns. She attacked.
Chapter Forty
Justan and Fist ran to the sounds of shouting outside the chamber. They emerged from the iron door into the large curving stairwell that Justan remembered being carried down when he had first arrived.
“The throne room should be just above us,” he said.
“Goblins! Goblins in the stairwell!” It was Captain Demetrius’ voice.
The shouts came from overhead where prisoners had streamed up the stairs and run into unexpected resistance. A horde of goblins poured down the stairs from above.
A roar of rage rang out as Tamboor shoved past Fist and Justan. The warrior surged up the stairs and launched himself into the battle, slaying goblins with large swipes of his sword. Justan and Fist followed, linking thoughts through the bond. Soon they were in the midst of the fight, working in concert. Fist felled goblins with great blows of his impromptu mace, while Justan stayed just under his arms, slicing up any who escaped the ogre’s reach.
Justan and Fist passed Captain Demetrius and pulled up beside Tamboor. The weak-fleshed goblins had no chance against the three vengeance-driven warriors, but they were numerous, making it a slow fight to reach the top. Nevertheless, the three of them led the charge up the stairwell, leaving Captain Demetrius and the other prisoners to climb over the goblin dead they left in their wake.
It was a valiant charge, a marvel of the power of the mind over the weakness of the body. Most men would have tired and been overtaken. These three had been imprisoned in unholy conditions and by all rights should have crumpled from exhaustion long before reaching the stairwell in the firs
t place. But they didn’t let lack of physical energy slow them down. The memories of the deaths of Tamboor’s family were fresh in their minds, stoking the fires that drove them.
Tamboor’s fury and the precision of the bonded warriors led the escapees up the spiral staircase that was Ewzad Vriil’s private dungeon entrance. They emerged through the back door of the throne room in time to see the first orcs come through Ewzad’s shimmering portal.
There stood Ewzad Vriil, dressed in a Duke’s finery, arm’s out stretched, his fingers undulating wildly. He looked sickly, yet radiated horrible power and on his face he wore a ghastly grin. Justan and Fist’s anger mixed together and burned as one through the bond.
Tamboor ripped into the orcs while Justan and Fist ran for the wizard. They were followed right behind by Captain Demetrius and a stream of escaping prisoners.
“Blast it! Too soon!” Ewzad Vriil hadn’t been ready for the assault yet. Not enough of his orcs had passed through the portal. Quickly, he raised his arm and sent forth a paralyzing spell, freezing everything in the room.
Messenger of the Dark Prophet (The Bowl of Souls: Book Two) Page 42