No time to look up spells now, he thought nervously.
He grabbed the staff and strode toward the door,
It shuddered for a third time and the latch squealed in protest, barely keeping the door closed.
Simon quickly chanted a spell.
“Invectis!” he said loudly, just as the door crashed open.
A blast of arctic air hit his shield spell and was redirected to the sides. The icy snow slammed into the barrier, setting off little sparks and flashes of light and the wizard could barely see the opening in front of him.
And then with a chorus of wails, like damned souls released from Hell, a wall of white bodies leaped through the doorway directly at him.
“Holy shi...” he managed to yell just as he was thrown across the room to slam into the far wall. The shield cushioned the impact but he was dizzy and shaken up as he lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling.
Somehow, he had managed to hang on to his staff, and he staggered to his feet and raised it as he hurried to cast a second spell.
“Invectis!” he shouted again and heard little tinkles, like tiny chimes, as his body was covered in a coating of crystal. He looked like a carving of a man made of glittering diamonds.
The shield was holding and Simon looked around frantically. His attackers had paused for a brief moment, stymied by his shield, and he had his first chance to get a really good look at them,
“What the...?” he murmured.
White, so white that they were difficult to see in the midst of the snow and ice that was blowing into the tower. Man-shaped but hunched over, the creatures dragged their skinny arms along the ground. All he saw for certain were blazing red eyes, gaping maws full of crooked fangs and long, thin fingers tipped with inch-long claws.
An acidic stench, like urine, filled the room as they piled in, making him gag.
What the hell are they? he wondered in shock. And how had they gotten past his wards?
There were at least a dozen of the monsters already inside the tower and more were crowding in at the doorway, pushing and shoving as they tried to reach him.
Simon's mind began to race as he considered the best plan of attack. Creatures that lived in sub-zero conditions must be vulnerable to fire, he thought quickly.
He glanced up at the wooden ceiling above him, with its huge cross-beams of oak and felt a pang of regret.
Stop that, his inner voice said. Buildings can be rebuilt. Deal with these bastards first.
For some reason that thought calmed him down and he began to chant.
As he finished, the monsters drew back a little, and Simon briefly wondered why. He couldn't know that a smile as cold as the wind blowing into his home had crept across his lips.
He pointed his staff at the group of fiends directly in front of him.
“Invectis!” he spat in a voice thick with disgust and hatred.
The room exploded.
The Fire Blast spell was an area-effect spell. It was crude and imprecise, but it was also brute force personified. Everything that could burn in the room suddenly went up like it was soaked in gasoline.
The monsters were turned to ash so quickly that their bodies actually stood for an instant, perfect copies made of lifeless cinders. And then the wind blew past them, scattering ashes everywhere.
The other creatures that had been eagerly trying to force their way into the room drew back with wails of fear. They raced away, disappearing into the storm. Simon almost followed them but stopped and looked around at the home he loved engulfed in flames.
He chanted another spell as quickly as he could and invoked it.
The Blizzard spell seemed to copy the storm outside but instantly snuffed out the flames, freezing the entire room and coating the burning ceiling with ice. Simon hoped that he had snuffed out the fire in time to at least stop the tower from collapsing from the inside.
With a shrug, he put away that sad thought, recast his shield spell and hurried outside.
He could barely see ten feet in any direction as the wind whipped ice particles past his shield, sending tiny sparks flying in all directions. He stopped and listened intently, trying to hear anything above the screeching blizzard. But he couldn't tell where the monsters had fled and he realized that he could stumble around for hours and not find them until they attacked.
Think, Simon, think, he told himself frantically. How can I find these things in this storm?
He was trying to decide what to do when a blood-chilling scream came from the area near the front gates.
The wizard spun toward the sound and hurried in that direction, slipping on the icy crust of snow that had already built up around the tower.
As the open gates appeared out of the white wall of snow, Simon stopped short and stared in disbelief.
There were several bodies scattered across the ground, black blood and entrails making it look like a scene out of a horror movie. Two of the monsters were still on their feet but they were being pulled down by a half-dozen small, brown figures while something that looked like a miniature tornado repeatedly slammed into their heads, ripping bits of skin and bone off of their faces, turning them into gory masses of flesh.
The creatures finally collapsed as the earthen smashed into them again and again. Simon had never seen anything so violent and demented as this and could only stand with his mouth open in shock.
The bodies lay unmoving and obviously dead and still the elementals, including Aeris, continued to tear into them, literally ripping them apart.
“Guys?” Simon called out tentatively. “Hey guys! Um, I think they're probably dead enough.”
All of the little figures stopped attacking and looked over at him. The whirling dervish that was Aeris slowed to a stop and all seven little elementals simply stared at Simon blankly.
“Master!” Kronk called out in surprise. He was standing on the caved-in chest of one of the creatures, covered in gore.
“You're alive, master!”
“Uh, yeah. Mostly.”
Simon really didn't know what to say as he stared at the remains of whatever the hell had attacked the tower. He had never seen such uncontrolled violence from the elementals before and he was trying to process it.
Aeris shot across the space between then and stopped just outside of Simon's shield.
“We thought you were dead,” he exclaimed, drops of black blood trickling off of his hovering form.
“No, I'm still here. What exactly were,” he nodded at the bodies, “those things?”
“Wights, master,” Kronk said, his voice thick with disgust. “Back in ancient times, they were known to follow in the wake of storms, masking their presence until they attacked. It was a very effective tactic.”
“Can't argue with that.”
Simon dismissed his shield but kept his diamond skin spell active to protect him from the intense cold. He slipped his staff over his shoulder so that it hung down along his spine and peered through the blinding snow.
“Any more of those things around?”
“I think we've accounted for all of them,” Aeris told him. “But I'm going to take a quick spin around the tower, just in case. Be right back.”
With that, the air elemental shot off and disappeared into the storm.
Simon walked reluctantly over to the gates and looked down at the bodies.
Seen up close and unmoving, the wights looked even more horrible. Their glazed, dead eyes still seemed to burn with insatiable hunger and their gaping mouths were filled with broken, rotting fangs. Their pale skin reminded him of dead fish; colorless and slimy. And if they had any gender, there was no way to tell. Their bodies below the waist were masses of scars and ragged running sores.
“They're undead, aren't they?” he asked Kronk, who took a moment to roll in the snow and clean the blood and slime off of his body.
“They are, master. That is one reason they are only seen during winter storms; they are vulnerable to sunlight.”
Simon
watched as the other earthen followed Kronk's lead and cleaned themselves up.
“Well, we can't leave the bodies here. Can I get you guys to drag them out into the field?”
“Of course, master,” the little earthen said quickly.
The six elementals easily gathered the corpses together and pulled them through the gates to the wind-blown clearing beyond.
“Not too far,” Simon called out. “Just pile them together. If they're undead, I want to make sure they won't somehow reanimate and attack again.”
Kronk dragged the last body on to the hideous pile and stepped back.
“How, master?” he asked.
Simon chanted a familiar spell and pointed at the bodies.
“Fire, of course,” he said simply. “Invectis.”
A ball of flame streaked down out of the storm and slammed into the remains, instantly igniting them and turning the entire mass into a bonfire.
“That should do it,” the wizard told the watching earthen.
They stared at the burning bodies for a moment and then Aeris flew through the gates to join them.
“There's no sign of any others. There were scratches on the door of the stable, but they didn't get through it. Must have preferred going after you, my dear wizard.”
“The horses are safe?” Kronk asked anxiously.
“They're fine,” Aeris told him. “Chief was standing just inside the door. I doubt any wight would have gotten past those horns of his.”
“I must check on them,” Kronk said, obviously worried and would have hurried off if Simon hadn't stopped him.
“Check on them later, my friend,” he said and motioned for the group to follow him.
Once they were back inside the wall, the wizard turned and looked at the six earthen.
“Okay,” he said, yelling a bit over the howling wind. “I know we've just been through a battle, and frankly I think I might still be in shock, but I have to know something.”
He looked from one elemental to the next. All of them were listening closely.
“Why were the gates open before the attack?” he asked in a level tone, trying not to sound accusatory.
Kronk looked at his fellow earthen.
“Yes, I would like to know that as well.”
The remaining earth elementals looked at each other and then one stepped forward, looking a bit sheepish.
“I saw the storm coming, sir wizard,” he said reluctantly. “And I wanted to make sure that both halves of the gate were in perfect working order before it hit.”
“I see,” Simon said. “Mittas, isn't it?”
“Yes, sir wizard,” Mittas said with a bow.
“So you were just trying to be helpful. I understand that. But the standing order was not to open the gates under any circumstances unless you asked permission first. Did you ask Kronk or Aeris before you did that?”
“He said nothing to me,” Aeris growled as he hovered by the wizard's right shoulder.
“Nor to me,” Kronk added. He stepped toward Mittas. “You took the initiative to help our master, yes?”
The earthen nodded eagerly.
“Yes, I did. Nothing is more important than a master's safety! I only wanted to ensure that the gate was strong enough to face the coming storm.”
Simon sighed and dropped his head. He looked down at his body, the white diamond coating reflecting the gray light around him.
“Okay, Mittas. You made a mistake today. Do you see that?”
The earth elemental hesitated and then nodded.
“I see it, sir wizard. I should have asked for permission to open the gates. It will not happen again.”
“It shouldn't have happened at all!” Aeris hissed at him and the little figure stepped back in surprise.
“Easy, Aeris,” Simon told him. “None of us is perfect.”
He looked at the entire group.
“But this can't happen again, do you all understand? This world is just too damned dangerous for such mistakes. None of you is a servant and each of you can leave at any time. But if you stay here, you must do as you are told or you are of no use to me. No one opens the gates in the future unless it is approved by either myself, Kronk or Aeris. Right?”
They all hurriedly nodded, Mittas' head bobbing so quickly it was almost a blur.
“Good. Now please close the gates and seal them.”
Simon watched as this was done and smiled grimly at them.
“Okay, that was the easy part. Now I need your expert opinions on what to do with the tower.”
“The tower, master?” Kronk asked, puzzled. He looked up at the shadow of the building, barely visible in the blowing storm. There was a buildup of snow on his head and he looked like he was wearing a white beanie.
“What is wrong with the tower?”
“Come with me and see,” Simon told him and he led the way to the front door, the snow and wind still screaming past them.
When they walked into the main room, the wizard felt a rush of sadness.
The winds had blown away all evidence of the immolated wights, but the room itself looked like a bombed-out wreck.
Long icicles hung from the scorched ceiling. The floor was partially covered with snow and had been blackened by his Fire Blast spell. His furniture; the sofa, his kitchen table and chairs, his easy chair in front of the fire, even his clothes cabinet near the door, all had been reduced to heaps of barely-recognizable charred wood and fabric.
“Damn it,” he muttered as he surveyed the damage. “Gone. All of it, just gone.”
“Oh my, master,” Kronk said as he looked around. “We heard the explosion when you cast whatever spell did this, but we assumed the worst and thought you had perished. I never thought about what kind of damage that spell would cause.”
“Me neither,” Simon replied. “But it was either this or death. I chose this.”
“And rightfully so,” Aeris averred. “This can all be rebuilt or replaced. You cannot.”
He shot across the room and examined the kitchen cupboards, the fireplace and the cast-iron stove.
“The good news,” he said loudly, “is that all of your food and dishes are okay. The outside of the cupboards will have to be replaced, but the contents are fine.”
“Well, that's something.” Simon said as he carefully walked across the room. The kitchen counter was scorched as well but the pump still worked next to the sink, so that was a relief.
“Kronk,” he said, turning to look at the earthen and his friends. “Can you tell if this floor and the ceiling are sound? Am I going to fall through to the basement or have the tower collapse on top of me?”
“We will check, master,” the earthen assured him. He spoke to the others in the deep guttural language of the earth elementals and three of them hurried up the blackened staircase to the second floor, while Kronk and the other two walked around the room, running their hands along the floor every two or three feet.
“You're going to have to dig out some new winter clothing from stores,” Aeris said as he nodded at what was left of the clothes cabinet.
“True enough,” Simon agreed, feeling tired and depressed. “New boots and gloves and all of that. Luckily I have spares. Ah well, I needed to freshen up my wardrobe anyway,” he added, trying to sound more cheerful.
“That is the right attitude, my dear wizard,” the air elemental said approvingly. “All of this can be fixed. You are safe and the tower is secure once more. Considering that hordes of wights wiped out countless towns and villages back in the old days, I'd say you got off lightly.”
Simon held on to that thought. Aeris was right, of course. He'd been caught flat-footed and off-guard and had managed to survive basically intact. It was a lesson for him to never get too complacent.
Suddenly he looked at the elemental with dawning horror.
“What is it?” Aeris asked as he saw Simon's expression. “What's wrong?”
“You said that the wights used to wipe out towns and village
s,” the wizard said in a strangled voice.
The two of them locked eyes.
“Nottinghill!” they said at the same time.
Simon turned and raced up the slippery, icy stairs with Aeris zipping along behind him.
He ran into his study, lit all of the candles in the darkened room with a thought and canceled his Diamond Skin spell. He slipped off his staff and leaned it against the desk. Then he snatched up the hand mirror and rattled off the Magic Mirror spell.
“Clara!” he said loudly into the mirror, Aeris floating next to him. “Clara, can you hear me?”
“Simon? Hello again. You were right about the storm. Luckily we got everyone indoors before it hit.”
The wizard sagged with relief. The cleric sounded normal and calm. He'd been terrified that somehow the wights had gotten into the town.
She appeared in the mirror's surface, standing at a window in her quarters and gazing out at the violent storm just beyond the glass.
“Clara, listen. I need to warn you about something.”
“Warn us? About something other than this blasted storm?”
“Exactly. Let me tell you what just happened.”
Simon proceeded to explain about the attack on the tower. Clara gasped once or twice but didn't interrupt his story. As he spoke, the cleric moved through her rooms and picked up her own mirror so that she could look back at the wizard. Then she went into her living room and sat down on her sofa.
“So you're saying that this was a common occurrence back in the old days of magic?” she asked when he was finished speaking.
Simon glanced at Aeris, who moved into view and nodded at her.
“Yes, lady, it was. Well, perhaps common is not the proper term. But most settlements knew that when particularly violent winter weather was approaching, that wights or other undead might be following in its wake.”
“Wow. The things we don't know about this New Earth of ours could fill a library,” Clara muttered. “But you're okay, Simon?”
“I'm fine, thanks. I'm more worried about you and the town. If I may make a suggestion, tell Malcolm and Aiden to man the walls near the gates and keep an eye out for anything peculiar.”
“You mean like hordes of undead?” she asked dryly.
The Dragons of Decay Page 4