Tim Waggoner - Thieves of Blood

She saw the end of the gangplank that was in the water shudder, then a crab surfaced, crawling along the gangplank toward the dock. The crab was too heavy and the wood began to tilt beneath its weight, raising the opposite end into the air. Yvka saw her chance. She leaped into the air and ran across crab shells toward the rising gangplank. She launched herself off the back of a particularly large crab just as a gigantic shape rose forth from the water next to the gangplank. It was another crab, but far larger than any Yvka had seen so far, nearly half the size of a galleon, if not bigger. As Yvka soared toward the top of the rising gangplank, one of the monster crab’s claws swept at her. Yvka’s feet landed on the gangplank’s edge, and she pushed off just as the monstrous claw came for her. She passed between the pinchers just as they snapped together, missing her by only a hair’s breadth.

She flew toward the ship’s railing, but the wave caused by the gigantic crab’s emergence had caused the rising end of the gangplank to wobble as it sank, throwing off Yvka’s trajectory. She had intended to grab hold of the ship’s railing as she descended, but it was clear that now she was going to fall short. As she drew near the railing, dozens of hands reached out for her, and enough of them caught hold of her hands and forearms to keep her from falling. The prisoners who, thanks to her and Hinto were captives no longer, hauled her over the railing and onto the deck. The discarded gangplank fell into the water, and the monster crab, as if frustrated at losing its snack, tore the gangplank apart with its huge claws.

Yvka thanked her rescuers then hurried over to where Hinto lay shivering on the deck. The little girl sat next to him, holding his hand and telling him that everything was going to be all right. As Yvka knelt by the halfling’s side and took his other hand, she didn’t know if the girl’s soothing words would turn out to be prophetic, but at least now they had a chance. It was all up to Diran and Ghaji.

She smiled down at the trembling halfling. “Thanks.”

“You’re… you’re…” Hinto gritted his teeth and forced out the last word. “Welcome.”

As Yvka stroked Hinto’s hand, she looked around for Tresslar, but she didn’t see the artificer. She wondered what had happened to the irritable old man. Wherever he was, she hoped he was safe and not doing anything foolish. Yvka and the girl continued tending to Hinto, trying to restore him to a state of calm, while below them the multitude of crabs finished what remained of their grisly repast. Now all that remained was for them to wait and see if Diran and Ghaji succeeded. Yvka prayed that they would.

Diran held the arrowhead of the Silver Flame in his left hand while he threw daggers with his right. Ghouls shied away from the holy symbol, its power preventing them from getting too close. A single bite or scratch from one of the loathsome creatures was enough to cause paralysis, or worse, ghoul fever. Diran could heal either Ghaji or himself if they were struck, but they couldn’t afford to waste the time.

Ghaji wielded his new flaming axe to devastating effect, hacking off heads, arms, and legs, and setting ghouls afire in the process. In his left hand, Ghaji gripped his old axe, and though it was smaller and lacked the enchantment of his more recently acquired weapon, the half-orc warrior still caused quite a bit of damage with it.

Diran was rapidly using up his supply of daggers. He sent blades hurtling into ghoul eyes, throats, and hearts with lightning speed and deadly accuracy, but only the silver daggers struck with mystical effect, the ghouls’ mottled hides blackening and rotting away where they’d been wounded. Diran could summon forth the pure essence of the Silver Flame to repel the ghouls, but he feared if he did so, he might not be able to draw on that power again in time to use it against Erdis Cai.

Fortunately for the two companions, if not for the denizens of Grimwall, the ghouls attacked anything that moved and preferred easy prey. Since most of the black-clothed men and women put up no resistance as they attempted to flee, the ghouls fell upon them like ravening hounds on rabbits, raking flesh with black claws, and tearing off chunks of meat with razor-sharp teeth. He felt pity for the men and women who died at the savage claws of the ghouls. Few deserved such a hideous death as many of Erdis Cai’s followers now suffered.

Diran and Ghaji had thinned the number of ghouls considerably by the time they reached the opposite side of the amphitheater floor, and those men and women who hadn’t died or been injured by the ghouls’ attack had fled, a number of the cannibalistic undead racing after them. Ghaji split the skull of one last ghoul with his fire axe, and the creature burst into flames and collapsed in a heap of burning flesh. The two companions then sprinted up the amphitheater’s steps as they went in pursuit of Erdis Cai.

Makala didn’t want to leave the darkness-not because it was pleasant or comforting, but because she suspected that cold and lonely as it was, it was still preferable to what waited for her on the other side of consciousness.

She opened her eyes anyway.

Stalactites hung above her like spears of rock, poised to fall and impale her any moment. Flickering green light illuminated the stalactites, casting dancing shadows on the cavern ceiling. Makala was lying on a smooth hard surface, and when she tried to sit up, she found she couldn’t move. She could feel that her wrists and ankles had been bound by what felt like rope, but that was not what prevented her rising. She wanted to sit up, but her body refused to obey her commands.

You’re still under Erdis Cai’s spell, she told herself, at least partially.

Her mind began to clear then, and she realized where she was and what was happening. She was lying on the stone dais in the center of the blood pool, in the catacombs where the corpses of the ancient goblinoid warriors awaited the final three sacrifices that would restore them to life.

“I woke you, Makala, because I would not have you go to your death unaware. I would never dishonor your warrior’s spirit like that.”

Though she was unable to move the rest of her body, she was able to turn her head in the direction of Erdis Cai’s voice. In doing so, however, she saw the two others who shared the dais with her. One was a young man who looked to be in his early twenties, and the other was a woman about ten years older. Both were bound like Makala, and both were dressed in black tunics fashioned from thin, light cloth. Makala couldn’t see how she was dressed, but from the feel of the cloth on her skin, she knew she wore a similar tunic. The other two candidates for sacrifice lay still, eyes closed, lost in Erdis Cai’s hypnotic trance, a trance from which neither of them would ever awaken.

Erdis Cai, Onkar, and Jarlain stood near the narrow walkway that stretched across the blood pool to the base of the dais. Jarlain smiled at Makala with smug satisfaction, her eyes gleaming in anticipation. Onkar glared at her, eyes burning with crimson fire as he cradled the stump where his right hand had once been. Makala didn’t know what had happened to Onkar, but whatever it had been, she hoped it had hurt.

Erdis Cai had no expression on his face. His features were as cold and impassive as those of a marble statue. The vampire lord cocked his head to the side as if listening to a voice only he could hear.

He looked up at the cavern roof, his gaze seeming to penetrate the stone and see far beyond it. He lowered his head and though his expression didn’t change, his voice held the merest hint of excitement as he said, “It’s time.”

He reached up to the crimson blood-drop symbol on his breastplate, grasped its edges, and plucked it free of the metal. As the Mark of Vol detached from the armor, a blade snicked out of the bottom and a handle jutted from the top. Erdis Cai wrapped his fingers around the handle and the Mark of Vol had become a sacrificial dagger.