Джейн Рэйб - Red Magic

Resigned, the druid rose, turned his back on the tower, and strode toward his stallion. “Let’s move,” he told Brenna and hoisted himself into the saddle.

“Not just yet.” Brenna stood unmoving, her hands planted on her hips, and stared long and hard at the head gnoll. “Let’s see if we can find out why Maligor’s going after another Red Wizard.” She pointed at the tower. “Maybe we can learn something in there.”

Galvin weighed Brenna’s idea. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it. Any information was better than none. He leapt off the black stallion, grabbed the reins, and began to lead the animal toward the tower. Two gnolls moved to block the front door.

“Out of our way!” Galvin shouted, knowing the stupid creatures couldn’t understand the words but hoping they would comprehend his intent.

Brenna was at his side in a few steps. Drawing a long knife, she anticipated trouble when the gnolls refused to part and the others began to move closer.

Galvin unsheathed his longsword and advanced. The gnolls paused, eyeing the glowing blade, then screamed as a black cloud descended upon them. The wraiths, appearing as a fog with ghostly arms and legs, laughed eerily and slashed at the gnolls’ faces.

Deep, black gashes appeared, and blood flowed freely down the bodies of the terrified gnolls. The dog-men thrust at the blackness with their spears, but the crude weapons passed through the undead harmlessly.

“Stop!” Galvin demanded, running up toward the gnolls and disappearing in the cloud of undead.

Brenna screamed, fearing the druid was doomed. Tears welled in her eyes and her hands shook. Although she could hear Galvin’s commanding voice through the undead, she feared for his safety.

“Back away!” the druid yelled as he slashed upward with his enchanted blade, slicing a black limb from a hovering wraith. The undead being emitted a piercing shriek and fell backward behind its undead brethren.

“I said stop!” Galvin shouted once more. “Back off, or you’ll have to fight me, too!”

“We could steal your lowly life, human,” growled a wraith that moved to hover inches from Galvin’s face. Its hot white eyes bore into the druid. “We could bring you death with one touch.”

“Then try it!” Galvin shouted, thrusting upward and driving his blade between the wraith’s glowing eyes. The creature screamed and dissipated like thinning fog, but several others quickly moved to take its place, chilling the air about the druid. “Szass Tam gave me this sword. You know it can kill you.”

“Mortal fool!” another wraith howled, its haunting tone drifted toward Brenna and Wynter. “You could never kill all of us. We would suck the marrow from your brittle bones. Then you would be one of us.”

“Never!” The druid refused to cower before Szass Tam’s minions. He realized that backing down meant giving in to the undead, inviting them to overwhelm him, Brenna, and Wynter. “Now get back to the road, all of you. This is my fight.”

The wraiths laughed mockingly, their hollow voices reverberating off the tower wall, but they retreated nevertheless.

Brenna rushed to Galvin’s side, threw her arms around him in relief, then quickly composed herself and stood facing the gnolls.

Galvin pointed the tip of his longsword at the dog-men, then swept it to the side, pointing west, toward the escarpment. “Move!” he barked. “Move or I’ll kill you!”

The gnolls didn’t comprehend the words, but they understood the druid’s meaning. They fled the tower, running hard without glancing back.

The druid took a deep breath, sheathed his sword, and watched their retreating forms to make sure the wraiths didn’t give chase. Galvin hadn’t wanted to kill the gnolls, and he wanted to keep the undead from doing so even more. No being deserved to be turned into a wraith.

With half a dozen long steps, he reached the large tower doors and yanked on the handles. The iron-bound wood remained unyielding, even after he rammed his shoulder against it several times. Frustrated, Galvin shoved the enchanted blade between the two doors and pushed.

“That won’t work either,” Brenna observed, laying a soft hand on his mailed shoulder. “I’m pretty sure it’s magically held. If Maligor’s as powerful as we’re led to believe, he’d certainly have magic in the walls and doors to keep intruders out.”

“Wonderful.” The druid slumped against the door.

Brenna smiled, and her eyes twinkled in the moonlight. “I think I can get in,” she said. “I told you a sorceress would come in handy. Now aren’t you glad you brought me along?” She gestured, and Galvin moved away from the door, watching intently as she cast a simple spell that ended in a thumping sound, like a small door knocker being rapped against wood.

“Success!” she said, beaming. The doors swung slowly inward, moving silently on ancient hinges. In front of them lay a hallway bathed in the light of dozens of thick candles. Suddenly guards, both humans and gnolls, began to pour from rooms off the hall and moved to attack. All were armored, and their plates of metal clanged noisily as they swarmed forward in a wave.

Galvin leapt in front of the sorceress and deftly parried the swing of one burly guard. The massive man wielded a claymoor, a great sword that took two hands to heft. When the guard lifted the sword above his head for another attack, the druid quickly thrust his own enchanted sword forward. The blade sliced through the man’s abdomen, sinking in up to the hilt.

Galvin brought his right leg up and lodged it against the dying man’s waist, then pushed, sliding the man off his sword and into the advancing second rank of guards, knocking several down. The druid pressed his attack, cleaving his blade into the neck of a fallen gnoll who was starting to rise.

Shards of electric blue shot past Galvin and imbedded themselves in the chest of another guard. Brenna shouted a half-dozen arcane syllables, and more of the magical shards flew from her fingertips and into the face of a gnoll.

“Surrender!” she heard Galvin call, but the guards ignored the command. Then the enchantress felt instantly cold as a wave of wraiths passed over her, casting a dark shadow in the entranceway.

The undead enveloped the guards farthest from Galvin and Brenna, their black bodies smothering their victims’ screams. Galvin futilely ordered the wraiths to retreat as he battled a pair of gnolls. Four more swings, and the druid had killed the dog-men.

Brenna and Galvin were the only living people in the hallway. The druid stared at his bloody longsword for several moments, then glanced at the polished marble floor, now coated with blood and entrails. Farther down the hallway, where the wraiths had attacked, the dead bodies appeared twisted, their skin dried, almost mummified. The shadowy wraiths hovered over the husks.

“Leave us!” the druid ordered, glaring at the wraiths that had positioned themselves along the walls equidistant from the candles, where the light was the softest. The torches showed the wraiths to be vaguely human shapes, filled with shifting patterns of gray, black, and brown.

“No!” they hissed as one.

“Outside!” Galvin continued his commanding tone.

“When will you leave the castle?” one posed as the cloud of wraiths floated over the heads of Brenna and Galvin and out the door.

“After we have the information we need,” the druid replied. “It could take a few hours.”

A throaty laughed drifted through the tower’s entranceway. “If you do not return, humans, we will come get you.”

Galvin turned to Brenna, relieved that the wraiths were gone, if only for a short while. She offered a weak smile, and he drew her into his arms. The action pleasantly startled the sorceress, and she ignored the uncomfortable links of his shirt that rubbed against her. She laid her head against his chest. The metal felt cool on her cheek.