A seedy man with a devious grin greeted him and Normak. “Headin’ west?” He spat black sludge from between his missing front teeth.
Rakzar didn’t have time for pleasantries. He grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and pulled him close. “Anyone cross here recently?”
The man nodded. “Strange woman. Stranger beast.”
“Then let’s move.” Rakzar shoved the man back and released his shirt.
“Ain’t free.”
Rakzar reached for his battle axe but Normak offered the man a single gold coin. “Fast as ya can.”
The man snatched the coin and squished it between his back teeth. “Good. Hop aboard.”
They shoved off and headed across the half-mile-wide river.
A minute into the journey someone yelled, “Wait.”
The three of them looked back. Rayah, Ridan, and Bakkan halted at the river’s edge.
The man looked at Rakzar. “Friends?”
“Go back, but make it quick,” he growled.
“Cost—”
Normak handed the guy an additional silver coin. “We square?”
The man nodded and reversed direction.
Twenty minutes later, they hopped off the barge on the western bank of the Hotah River and headed south. It didn’t take long for Rakzar to locate Käíeƨ’s trail as the grasslands transitioned into dirt and rock as they neared the mouth of Trivers Lake.
Around the third bend of the river, Urza spotted Käíeƨ. The fiend rode a black steed with a single horn. An unnatural creature from what Rakzar could tell.
“She’s only a few minutes ahead.” Rakzar pushed himself harder. Didn’t care if the others could keep up.
She won’t get away.
† † †
“Käíeƨ!” yelled Rakzar. She rode twenty paces ahead of him. His lungs burned with fire and his legs jellied with fatigue, but he knew what he must do.
Käíeƨ slowed her steed and brought it around to face Rakzar. In a flash, she’d dismounted and stood on the bedrock and sand that made up the lake’s shoreline. Then, she separated into two forms, each cloaked in red. Rakzar didn’t need to see their faces to know each of them only had half a face, but they both removed their hoods.
“We remember you,” they said. “Come to find death?”
Rakzar advanced. “I’ve come to kill you.”
“Then you’ll be disappointed.” Their silver faces merged and frowned and then separated again. “We can’t be killed.”
“Were you born into this world?” He crept closer, his right hand on the hilt of the dagger that would end her life.
“Yessss,” they hissed.
Rakzar stopped ten paces in front of Käíeƨ. “Then you can die.”
Ridan came up next to Rakzar, sitting tall in her saddle and her spear raised. Normak flashed across the sand and slid to a stop on Käíeƨ’s left, sending a spray of sand high in the air. He brandished his war hammer and a formidable glower. Rayah flew over Käíeƨ and landed behind them, gloves on and knives poised for battle. Urza came up on Käíeƨ’s right but didn’t look well at all. She hadn’t drawn her knives.
Käíeƨ continuously merged and separated as she turned in a tight circle, her shadowy forms never staying solid. “I see you’ve brought friends. Do they know they’re already dead?” She laughed. “Ah, the dwarves are clueless. What a surprise.”
Normak yelled some sort of battle cry and lunged forward with a mighty swing. His war hammer arced around and back up, right toward the underside of Käíeƨ’s chin, but it passed right through her. His momentum threw him off balance, but his quick feet helped him recover without falling.
Käíeƨ’s two forms moved like a blur, one stepping into the same space as Normak and the other into Rayah’s space. Rayah arched back and released a bloodcurdling scream just before launching an assault against Urza. Normak hunkered over, his body contorted unnaturally. With a growl, he shot forward and attacked Ridan.
Rakzar stood back, his eyes darting between the two battles. Two problems presented themselves. He only had one dagger and didn’t know if killing one part of Käíeƨ would kill the other or not. He also couldn’t remember which part of her was in Rayah and which part was in Normak. If he had to kill both parts of her, she’d need to be together, otherwise she’d never let him get close again after the first one died.
“You know what to do, my friend.” Amicus stood next to him, his eyes focused on the battle between Rayah and Urza. “In her current condition, Urza won’t last much longer. You need to take Rayah out.”
“I can’t kill her!”
Amicus turned and shook his head. “I never suggested that and never would. Find a way to knock her out so Käíeƨ can’t control her.”
Rakzar dropped on all fours and galloped toward Rayah. Three paces away, he launched himself at her. She whipped around and turned her knives on him, but not in time. His fist caught the side of her head and drove right through her with a sickening crunch. She twisted and weaved in the air, and then she dropped to the ground in a heap and didn’t move. Her knives fell out of the air and clanged on the rocks.
Urza collapsed. Blood matted the fur along her arms, legs, and torso. She still breathed, but he didn’t know for how much longer.
Käíeƨ pulled herself out of Rayah and shot over and into Ridan. Bakkan backed away from Ridan and growled.
Ridan and Normak turned on Rakzar and advanced.
The only way this would end was for him to draw Käíeƨ out. He grabbed his double-edged battle axes off his back and waited.
Normak flashed past him and attacked from behind, but Rakzar had anticipated the move and easily dodged Normak’s wide swing. With a reverse twist and a low yet powerful swing, the flat side of Rakzar’s axe caught Normak square in the jaw. Normak stumbled back several steps, dropped to his knees, and then face-planted in the sand.
Blinding pain erupted in Rakzar’s left thigh and numbed his leg down to his toes. He turned just in time to see Ridan yank her spear from his leg. Blood dripped from its tip. He pushed the pain down, but his leg was practically useless. It wouldn’t bear his weight.
Käíeƨ pulled away from Normak and entered Ridan. Both halves of her were inside Ridan now. He needed to get closer in order to take Ridan down, but her spear had great range. A dark and twisted thought entered his mind.
Maybe I can stab Ridan with the dagger and kill Käíeƨ.
He shook his head. It might kill them both or just Ridan.
If he somehow damaged the blade trying such a move, he’d never forgive himself. He decided it wasn’t worth the risk. Right now, he needed a way to disarm Ridan before she wound up killing him, but the pain clouded his mind.
Ridan moved in for another strike. Rakzar blocked her jab with his axe, but just so. The next blow glanced off his breastplate. In his state, he couldn’t match her speed. Every other strike hit home.
He dropped to his knees as she pulled back for a final assault. He lifted one of his battle axes, but his arm shook with fatigue and blood loss. He knew he didn’t stand a chance.
Ridan lunged forward. Her spear came right for Rakzar’s face. But then her arm jerked back, and her body slammed to the ground. Bakkan held her arm in his teeth and pinned her down.
Rakzar took a breath, but then Käíeƨ emerged from within Ridan.
She stalked forward, her two halves undulating and joining. “Had enough yet?”
Rakzar dropped his battle axes on the ground and gathered his strength. Somehow, he forced himself back to his feet. Dizziness spun his head, and his vision sparkled and darkened around the edges. Standing wouldn’t be an option for much longer.
He spat blood and snarled, “I’m just getting started.” The hilt of the crystal dagger soothed his aching hand when he grasped it.
Käíeƨ eyed Rakzar’s hand for a moment and laughed. “You just won’t give up, will you?”
She shot forward an
d right up to Rakzar’s face, hovering a few feet off the ground. Her form cycled between a blur and solidity. Pulsing.
Her silver face contorted with malice. “You’ll be finished soon enough.”
Rakzar plunged the blade upward into her shadowy chest but nothing happened.
“No blade can harm me,” she hissed.
Then, her form solidified, burying the knife within her.
Käíeƨ shrieked. The sound pierced Rakzar’s ears.
She dropped to the ground with a thud but stayed on her feet. Her hands ripped at her chest.
Rakzar’s leg wobbled, and he collapsed.
“What have you done to us!” she screamed.
Something moved behind Käíeƨ.
Urza.
Somehow, Urza had found the strength to rise again.
“This is the end of you, bitch.” Urza roared as she plunged both of her knives into Käíeƨ’s sides, right underneath her ribs.
Käíeƨ shrieked louder still as blood ran from her wounds. She turned and Urza flew backward after a crimson flash.
Ridan scrambled to her feet and launched her spear at Käíeƨ. It flew true and buried itself right through the center of Käíeƨ’s throat. Its tip exploded through the back of Käíeƨ’s neck.
Käíeƨ dropped to her knees.
Ridan lay on the ground. Rakzar missed what felled her. Smoke rose from her chest. Bakkan nudged her with his nose but she didn’t respond.
A flash and guttural cry drew Rakzar’s attention. Normak’s war hammer connected with the side of Käíeƨ’s head. A sick, wet thump followed by crunching bones. She toppled over. Blood and brains spilled from her cracked and concaved skull.
Normak leaned on his war hammer, the only one left standing. His chest heaved, and his eyes swam in their sockets. He said something, but Rakzar couldn’t hear anything but buzzing. Normak bent over and vomited blood.
Black smoke poured from Käíeƨ’s nose and mouth. No, it wasn’t smoke but a shade from the lower world. Its screech filled the air.
Rakzar covered his ears but the sound still pierced them.
The demon shadow circled the shoreline several times and then swept right through Normak. Normak’s mouth opened wide. He must’ve been screaming, his face contorted with agony. A blurred orange aura pulled away from Normak like rain streaks in the sky, and then the aura and the shade faded into nothing. Normak fell over, his mouth still agape and his eyes bulging, but there was no life left in them.
Rakzar pulled his hands away from his ears. Blood wet his fingers, and a high-pitched buzz filled his head. He held on to consciousness for a few more moments, but the unrelenting pain sank its teeth into his mind and dragged him into the darkness.
† † †
Rayah reached into her pack and grabbed the brass-handled mirror. “I need to warn Master Savric about the orcs.”
Ridan shook her head. “Don’t think that’ll be doing anything for you.”
Several cracks fissured the mirror’s glass. “No, Ƨäʈūr!” Rayah tried to contact Master Savric but the mirror didn’t respond.
Chapter Forty-Two
Wrik skulked about the corridors of Galondu Castle, his head on a swivel. After the incident with the shadow troll in the atrium four days prior, every shadow represented a potential threat. For all he knew, Pravus had sent an army of them to kill him.
He didn’t actually have proof that Pravus orchestrated the assassination attempt, but who else could have done it? Keeping his nose buried in books of prophecy, he’d made few enemies. And, as far as he could tell, Aria liked him well enough. However, she did have the dragon influencing her as well. But Cinolth didn’t seem to have a personal vendetta against him. Cinolth just hated mankind as a whole.
Pravus must be the one.
Wrik returned to his bedchamber and gathered the handful of items that belonged to him: three books of prophecy, an extra pair of spectacles, a second set of silver robes identical to the ones he wore, a brass toe ring with a black dragon’s head spewing fire, a coin purse with thirty-seven gold coins and twenty-two silver ones, a leather necklace with a hollowed out magnet, and a vial of serum hidden inside the wall behind his bed. The serum wasn’t his own.
He slipped the necklace over his head and tucked it into his robes. It’d always brought him good luck in the past. Perhaps it would again in the future.
From his room he teleported into the corridor that ran perpendicular to the one with his secret room. Using half a dozen orbs of light, he verified the shadows were nothing more than just shadows. Satisfied, he traversed the corridor to the intersection point and used the same technique to check the shadows again.
To his left, the shadows shrank back against the probing orbs of light as they should. To his right, a hundred paces away, the torches began snuffing themselves out. The darkness moved toward him at an alarming pace. He sent the orbs of light flying toward the darkness, but they fizzled out as well.
Damn!
Back to his left, the torches began snuffing themselves out as well. He turned back toward the corridor he’d come from, but the darkness closed in on him from that direction too.
Wrik abandoned the notion of retrieving anything from his secret room. With determination, he set his mind on Nasduron and stepped forward.
Nothing happened. Nothing changed.
The darkness drew near. Fifty paces away.
His heart drummed in his ears.
Again, he stepped forward to no avail.
Twenty-five paces.
Moths fluttered in the pit of his stomach. A flurry of wings.
Ten paces.
Then it hit him. Not the darkness, but the second rule of Nasduron. Gnaud’s voice filled his head: “You cannot come here to escape death.”
Five paces.
In a flash, Wrik teleported out of the corridor and atop the southern ramparts. The distance jarred him and sapped more energy than he would’ve liked, but he’d had no other choice. His heart knocked against his ribcage as his hands fumbled with the brass toe ring.
East and west, the darkness poured out of the stairwells.
Wrik dropped the toe ring, and it rolled toward the parapet and the large crack that ate into the rampart. “No!” He dropped to his knees and dove forward, but his large fingers only hastened the toe ring’s pace toward the crack. He crawled forward and swiped with his hand just as the toe ring dropped into the crack and out of sight.
The darkness edged closer, but the open air seemed to slow it down a bit. He’d gladly take as much time as he could get. He leaned over the crack to see how far the toe ring had fallen, and it shot back out of the crack. He peered down and saw it hanging from his necklace with the magnet.
Still my lucky charm.
The darkness seemed to move quicker as though it sensed its prey might escape. Forty paces and closing fast.
Wrik slid the brass toe ring onto the second-smallest toe on his left foot. It’d been a long time since he’d worn the ring, and it seemed a bit snugger than he remembered, but it wouldn’t be for long.
Thirty paces.
Fire seared Wrik’s flesh.
Twenty paces.
No matter how many times Wrik used the ring, he never got used to its flaming touch.
Ten paces.
Bones cracked. Elongated.
Feet became talons.
Hands clawed and splayed.
Robes morphed into scales and leathery wings.
Five paces.
Spikes grew out of his spine. Edged his jaws.
Horns sprouted from his temples and swept back over the top of his bald head.
Four paces.
Ears melded into the sides of his head.
Spectacles sank into his face, their lenses covering his serpentine eyes.
Three paces.
A tail sprouted from his tailbone. Long, spiked, and pointed at the end.
Two paces.
Nose, cheeks, and jaws moved forward. Elongated. Became a snout.
Teeth multiplied. Sharpened like razors.
One pace.
Wrik jumped up on top of the parapet, spread his wings, and dove into the darkness of the night.
Chapter Forty-Three
Pravus gazed ahead as his massive army marched north and into the Arian Valley. A great wall made of wooden logs, sixty feet high at its tallest points, rose in the distance and spanned much of the wide gap between the Orbis Mountain’s southwestern and southeastern ranges. Only the Hotah River separated the two halves. Elatos, a sprawling city with more than three hundred thousand citizens, spanned both sides of the river and hunkered down behind the wall.
Pravus gripped his reigns tighter and stood tall in his stirrups as excitement stirred in his chest. Victory would undoubtedly be his. He looked skyward.
We will not be stopped, Father.
A dust cloud rose in the distance, and the thunder of hooves rode on the wind. Aria and Cinolth swooped down from the clouds and circled over Pravus and the army.
Aria mindspoke to Pravus. “The enemy dares to meet us on the battlefield.”
“And they will be crushed,” he replied.
“It looks like they’ve sent four representatives ahead of their forces.”
“Then let’s go meet them.” Pravus raised a fist in the air, and the army slowed to a halt.
“Where’s my brother?” she asked.
“Opposing us.” He severed the link with Aria, whipped his horse, and galloped ahead.
By the time Pravus reached the spot where Cinolth had touched down, Aria had dismounted and stood at Cinolth’s side. Simultaneously, the four riders from Elatos pulled up twenty yards away, their horses snorting and eyes wild with fear, clearly spooked by Cinolth’s presence. The riders, all clad in green armor, dismounted and approached, swords drawn but held toward the ground. Three men and one woman. By her gait, the woman looked to be in charge.
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