Two Necromancers, a Dwarf Kingdom, and a Sky City

by L. G. Estrella

  “Here!” her master pointed. “Katie, use your shadows to make a slide. Get down there and ensure the rest of us can land safely. Spot, go with her!”

  Katie made a slide out of her shadows and then slid down it, using her shadows to halt her descent at the end before she turned to guide the others down the makeshift path to the bottom of the chamber. Spot charged ahead, drawing the attention of the cosmic fungi away from her. He managed to dodge half a dozen blasts of eldritch power before one struck him squarely in the belly. Time stopped, and several powerful blows crashed into the dragon. Time resumed, and Spot went tumbling end over end as sparks flew off his scales. He managed to right himself before he hit the ground, and he turned to spew black fire in the general direction of their enemies. He clutched at his belly with one claw – some of his scales had cracked – and used some of his healing fire on himself. The cosmic fungi were wise enough to dodge his corrupting fire, and several barbed stingers erupted from their bodies toward him. Spot snarled and banked away from the projectiles before unleashing more fire. He managed to clip one of the cylindrical monstrosities with his flame, and the creature reeled back, Spot’s black fire seemingly every bit as effective as Katie’s shadows. The dragon trilled, and a mantle of black flame enveloped him. When the next wave of time-stopping projectiles struck, they merely slowed him down instead of stopping him outright. Spot’s smile was savage and utterly draconian as he shot forward, claws and teeth at the ready.

  As Katie helped the dwarves down one after the other, a beam of brilliant flame lanced down to strike one of the cosmic fungi that had been trying to get close. Avraniel had switched to her bow, and although its more concentrated attacks were easier for the cosmic fungi to hit with their time-stopping projectiles, they were also far more damaging since they could readily pierce the tough exteriors of the eldritch horrors. All she needed was for the cosmic fungi to get distracted, so she could land attacks from her bow. Katie hoped that the tide had finally begun to turn, but the cosmic fungi began to adapt. They staggered their time-stopping attacks to avoid using them at the same time, ensuring at least some of them could stop time defensively if necessary. Others had begun to work together to unleash larger shockwaves, and more of the dwarves fell as the eldritch creatures pressed their new advantage.

  Worse still, the ongoing battle had roused more of the cosmic fungi. They emerged from the walls, floor, and ceiling. The cosmic fungi that had wrapped themselves around the Hearthgate began to glow an alarming colour that completely defied categorisation yet screamed danger. In Katie’s experience, when eldritch entities started glowing a colour that made her eyes want to bleed, it was usually a bad thing. Even with the corrosive effects her shadows had, there were too many of them in the way. Spot, meanwhile, had been forced back under a deluge of heavy blows, and his scales had begun to show signs of wear and tear before a mighty strike from a huge cosmic fungus sent him hurtling back. He hit the ground and stumbled to his feet, but he was clearly not in good shape. Chomp stood over the dragon protectively as he shook his head and healed himself with his white fire.

  As everyone else finally got down the slide, Old Man unleashed another shockwave of his magic. She could tell that it taxed him to affect such a large area with so many eldritch creatures using their powers to try to thwart him. It spoke volumes about his skill and power that he could still give them the upper hand, and they renewed their push toward the Hearthgate. They rushed forward and used the minute or two he’d bought them as best they could. The dwarves had abandoned their spears in favour of axes, war hammers, and swords. The fungi didn’t seem to have any vital organs to pierce. Instead, crushing blows or slicing them to pieces seemed to be more effective. Their blood – if it really was blood – was a bizarre, fluorescent substance that changed colour in time to the pulsing of the fungus that filled the room, rapidly cycling through a dizzying array of greens, browns, yellows, and other, less describable shades. Her master clubbed one in the side with his shovel and sliced into it with his second blow. The creature rounded on him, and he ducked under a tentacle that would have ripped him in half as a band of dwarves leapt on it, axes and war hammers at the ready.

  “How does the Hearthgate work?” Katie asked as she fought her way to the king. A dwarf flew through the air overhead, and she caught him with her shadows. Luckily for the dwarf, he’d only been caught by a glancing blow. He was badly bruised instead of dead. Spot had taken a position nearby, and he was spewing as much of his black fire as he could. He was definitely tiring, but it was much more effective that regular fire. It burned the cosmic fungi badly and reduced their ability to regenerate. “How do we turn it off?”

  “I don’t know!” the king looked around. He used his construct to ward off more cosmic fungi with a series of devastating blows from his massive war hammer. Clearly, the creatures did not want them to deactivate the Hearthgate. “Daerin?”

  “I have no idea!” the other dwarf cried as he ran toward them with some of his golems. “Everyone who knew how to operate it is either dead or vanished with the Sky City. After centuries of it not working, people stopped trying to figure it out. We had goblins to worry about. I was hoping I’d have time to examine it.” He ducked a razor-sharp claw and then pointed a strange device at the middle of one of the cosmic fungi. There was a dazzling discharge of electricity, and the creature reeled back before five of his golems pounced on the stunned horror. Daerin ran to a counter that had countless dials, switches, and crystals on it. “Perhaps this will tell us.” He brushed some dust off it, and the glow around the gate intensified. “Oops.”

  “Oops?” the king bellowed. “You made it worse! It’s glowing even more than before!”

  “I wasn’t trying to!” Daerin countered. “And it’s not like you can do better!”

  “Stop!” Katie shrieked. “Stop arguing and fix it!” She wouldn’t normally have yelled at royalty, but they were not going to live through this if they wasted valuable time arguing instead of fixing the problem. The number of cosmic fungi was slowly beginning to decrease, but those attached to the Hearthgate had seemingly dissolved into the structure, which could not possibly be a good thing. Oh, sure, maybe the protective magic around the Hearthgate had destroyed them, but that was a hopelessly optimistic view to take.

  “We need to shut it down!” Her master yanked her back as vast, ropey tentacles erupted from the Hearthgate. “Yep. We definitely need to shut this down right now. It’s like they’ve fused with the gate. I don’t know what that means exactly, but it can’t be good.”

  Around the Hearthgate was a circle of stones, and one by one they began to glow, emitting the same, unidentifiable colour as the gate itself. A strange whirring sound began to fill the air, like the beating of thousands upon thousands of wings.

  “I don’t think it’s shutting down,” her master growled. He was beside Daerin, and the pair worked frantically to grasp how the controls worked while Katie and the king fought off the cosmic fungi. “Doesn’t anyone know how to work this thing?” He shouted for Amanda, and the vampire arrived in a storm of blood that sent the eldritch horrors around them reeling back. “You were alive when they built this. Do you know how to turn it off?”

  The vampire shook her head. “The Hearthgate is one of the greatest feats of dwarfish magical engineering in history. We were allies, yes, but they still weren’t keen on sharing the details.”

  Rembrandt squeaked and pointed something out to Katie. He and the other ninja rats had done their best in the battle, but the cosmic fungi were bad opponents for them. They had no vital organs to target, and they were seemingly impervious to poison. Her eyes widened in horror as she caught a glimpse of a panel with an image on it. “Master, over there! Doesn’t that look like it’s counting down to you?”

  Her master followed her gaze. “Oh… crap.” His eyes widened. “I haven’t had to read ancient dwarf runes for a while, but those look a lot like numbers.”

  Katie gulped. Those symbols did look an
awful lot like highly stylised numbers written in the ancient runic script of the dwarves, and they were steadily going down.

  “Run!” her master bellowed. “Everyone move! We’re not going to be able to stop it.” Beside him, Daerin had abandoned any semblance of caution and was busy hitting switches and turning dials. Nothing was working. “We need to get out of here now –”

  She saw and felt Old Man’s magic surge outward. Space around them bent and twisted, and time frayed and threatened to come apart. Beyond his protective field, the floor, walls, and ceiling began to disintegrate. The eerie light that filled the chamber curved and bent along insane, nonsensical paths as space ripped and tore. Ghostly images of what had already happened and what might happen filled the air as a wave of blinding light and an ear-splitting howl from the Hearthgate forced her to shut her eyes and cover her ears. She fell to her knees and waited for the deluge of light and sound to pass.

  When some measure of calm finally returned, she stood and opened her eyes. They weren’t in the large chamber with the Hearthgate anymore. Instead, they were standing underneath a vast violet and crimson sky awash with floating stones and bulbous, bloated creatures that reminded her vaguely of mushrooms. In the distance, perhaps several dozen miles away, was a floating city with an absolutely colossal cosmic fungus wrapped around it.

  “Katie,” her master murmured. “I don’t think we’re in Diamondgate anymore.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Amanda was not fond of magic that manipulated space and time. Such magic was usually quite rare and almost always excessively troublesome to deal with. Old Man was a case in point. Setting aside the fact that he was the greatest swordsman she’d ever seen – and that was saying something considering how long she’d lived – she had yet to fully grasp the true potential of his magic. He could, for instance, cut through an entire ship by using his magic to enhance his sword. What good was physical durability or even size against an attack that split space itself? Likewise, she’d caught momentary glimpses of him using his time magic, usually to hasten himself or slow an opponent. He never did it unless the situation called for it since he seemed to enjoying fighting his opponents with as little magic as possible. Even without his magic, Amanda would have been wary of him – he was that good with a blade – but with his magic, it was difficult to imagine him losing a duel if he wasn’t caught unprepared. Of course, manipulating time seemed to be far more taxing for him than manipulating space, and he’d used his time manipulation more in their last battle than he had in the entire time she’d known him.

  His magic had protected them when the Hearthgate activated. From what she’d glimpsed before they’d been transported, the massive rips and tears in space and time unleashed by the out-of-control Hearthgate would have killed most of them outright. Unchecked, the Hearthgate’s magic would most likely have extended past the chamber, perhaps even swallowing the entire city. Old Man’s magic – and Daerin’s frantic scrabbling at the controls – had somehow managed to contain the Hearthgate’s reach to the edges of the large chamber. It was a small bit of good fortune in a situation that had very obviously not gone according to plan.

  Right now, though, they had bigger concerns. Wherever they’d been taken, it was not a place she recognised. The sky was an undulating carpet of violet and crimson, a roiling, boiling miasma of colour that reminded her of an ocean of stained glass. Even the air was different, richer in some ways but poorer in others, and it carried many strange, unfamiliar scents. At least, the air was breathable. She might not have needed to breathe, but the others did.

  If there had been any doubts whatsoever about the otherworldly nature of their destination, then the sight that loomed before them banished those as well. Skygarde floated in the distance, caught in the coils of a truly titanic cosmic fungus. They were on another world or in another dimension, and she doubted they would receive a friendly reception if they were caught. If she had to hazard a guess, this place must either be the home of the cosmic fungi or an outpost, and the ones they’d faced must be but a fraction of their numbers.

  “Spot!” Avraniel cried. “What’s wrong with you?” Timmy gasped as the elf grabbed him and hauled him over to Spot. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Amanda turned to look at Spot. Panic was not something she’d ever heard in Avraniel’s voice before. The blonde was cradling the young dragon in her arms. Amanda stared. Spot was glowing. White light blazed from his eyes, and his scales seemed to have reversed colour. Instead of being mostly black with a white spot on his snout, the majority of his scales were now a radiant white while the spot on his snout had become an inky splodge of darkness. When he opened his mouth, pale, white gas emerged with every breath.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Avraniel growled. “Come on! Tell me! Is he going to be okay?”

  Timmy knelt beside Spot and poked and prodded him a few times. It spoke volumes about the unfortunate fates of dragon researchers that Timmy was, most likely, the most experienced dragon-handler in the world right now. “He doesn’t seem to be sick.”

  Amanda’s brows furrowed. Timmy was right. If anything, Spot seemed like he had too much energy. He was squirming in Avraniel’s arms, his claws scraping the earth as his wings shifted and beat the air. Could this place be affecting him? She shifted her senses from the mundane to the eldritch. As an ancient vampire, she had certain… senses that were denied to her younger kin, as well as more normal beings. What she saw shocked her. This place… her eldritch side recognised it as being fairly close to home, which didn’t make much sense at all. More importantly, it was absolutely drenched in an odd form of astral energy. And if that was the case…

  “This place is closely connected to at least one kind of astral plane,” she said.

  Timmy stopped what he was doing and pursed his lips. “And Spot is part astral dragon. If there is enough astral energy here in sufficiently high concentrations, then it’s possible that he’s glowing because of how much energy he’s absorbed.” He relaxed slightly. “I’ve seen this happen before. Dragons can absorb energy from their surroundings. It’s why a lot of dragons are fond of sleeping in lava. It’s possible that this is what Spot’s astral form looks like although it doesn’t seem to be a full conversion since he’s still solid enough for us to touch. He might even awaken new abilities if he stays here long enough.”

  “So… it’s a good thing?” Avraniel asked warily. Chomp trotted over and nudged Spot. Like all of them, he was concerned about the young dragon.

  “He should be okay unless he overloads on astral energy. He doesn’t use much astral energy at all, so it could happen if he continues to absorb it at such a high rate.” Timmy patted Spot on the back. “If you start feeling full or uncomfortable, use your white fire, okay? It should help.” He grinned. “And if you feel like trying anything new, let us know first.” He looked at Amanda. “So… do you recognise this place?”

  “Only how it feels. The part of me that was once human doesn’t recognise it at all, but the eldritch part of me, the part that is from elsewhere, seems to think that it is similar to home.” She might have to consult with some other ancients when they returned. This was not something she could ignore. If they could track down the home world or dimension of the eldritch beings that had given rise to vampires in the first place, it might be possible to better understand how and why vampiric powers developed the way they did. But she could worry about that later. Right now, they needed to work out why Skygarde was here. “I remember the dwarves mentioning some sort of emergency retreat function they built into the city…” She glanced at King Barin and Daerin. “Do either of you know of it? Or were they simply speaking of the Hearthgate?”

  Alas neither dwarf was in a position to reply. Instead, the two of them were once again rolling around on the ground exchanging blows. She sighed. It was no wonder the king and his brother had a hard time getting along. If this was how they dealt with any problems they ran into together, it was a miracle Daerin hadn’t run
off sooner.

  “What madness have you dragged us into this time? Skygarde has been gone for centuries, and now we’re stuck in the same place it is! This is worse than the time you almost got us eaten by a rock hydra when we were children!” Amanda winced as the king got to his feet and dusted himself off. He was covered in the crushed remains of spores – the whole ground was. Who knew how many cosmic fungi were here? It was perhaps better not to think about it. “Aye,” the king said, proving he had been listening to her question during his scuffle with his brother. “There was a plan although I don’t know if it was ever used. The writings we have from that time are less than clear, and almost everyone who knew of the plan was on Skygarde when it vanished.” His gaze shifted to the Sky City, and his eyes narrowed. “The Hearthgate is more than a portal. It is a beacon. In times of extreme danger, there were plans to teleport Skygarde itself back to the skies over Diamondgate.”

  “Are you sure?” Timmy shook his head in disbelief. He and Katie had retrieved some of their zombies from Gerald and were busy throwing up a perimeter of sorts, as well as scouting the area. They hadn’t been spotted yet, but it was only a matter of time if they stayed out in the open. “Teleporting an object with the size and mass of the Sky City across large distances would require stupidly huge quantities of power, far more than anything I’ve ever seen. An easier way would be to try to shunt it through an alternate dimension before using a beacon to bring it back and…” He trailed off and covered his face with his hands. “And now I know why the Sky City is stuck here. I’m going to bet they did the math and worked out that teleporting using conventional means would take too much energy. Instead, they decided to go through an alternate dimension. Under the right circumstances, you can dramatically lower the cost of travel. It’s why summoning creatures from other dimensions often costs basically the same amount of magic regardless of where in the world you happen to be. The way different worlds overlap and interact with each other lets you cheat geography. If you can summon a creature into our world, then there’s nothing – at least in theory – stopping you from sending an object into another world before bringing it back into our world except in a different location.”