Jean Rabe - The Silver Stair

We would not hurt him. Only help him. The master summoned us and gave us life, one of the black creatures explained.

Orvago's heart thundered in his chest, and his thick eyebrows rose in bewilderment.

Intensely glowing eyes moved to within an inch of the gnoll's face. They exuded a frigid wave, and they took on a reddish cast that grew steadily brighter. The gnoll's teeth chattered, and he backed away faster now. He was at the edge of the clearing now, nearing the hollow tree.

"Orvago, don't leave." It was Gair's voice again. "We need to talk, you and I. Well, I suppose I have to do the talking, and you have to listen very carefully."

The gnoll's eyes darted back and forth between the black shapes, vigorously shook his head and motioned frantically for the elf to come with him.

"That wouldn't be a good idea-not right now, anyway." Gair's tone was terse. "I need to stay a while longer with my new friends."

Orvago howled mournfully, and he desperately motioned to the elf once more to come with him. The woods had closed completely about Orvago now as he had maneuvered himself farther down the trail. The black creatures were still following him, passing through trees and effortlessly keeping pace.

Kill him? one asked in its whispery voice. Can we kill him, Master? Then we can go to your settlement, drink the life there.

Gair shook his head. "Not the citadel grounds. Goldmoon is there."

Not the citadel, Master. As you wish. But this animal? Let us drink the life from this animal, Master. You summoned us to do your bidding. Please let that bidding be to kill this creature.

The gnoll glanced through a gap in the icy black bodies, met Gair's stare.

"I summoned them, Orvago, just like the spirit said." The elf was keeping pace too, but he remained behind the black creatures, sticking to the center of the trail. "I used a spell that Goldmoon taught me, and because I summoned them, I am their master," He paused and threw his head back to look at the stars, inhaled deeply, then dropped his gaze to the gnoll. "I owe Goldmoon much for this enchantment, Orvago. She uses her magic only for the living. I simply made a few adjustments and called upon my father and Darkhunter for help. I choose to use my magic on the dead now."

Orvago was close to the tree now. Just a few more steps. The gnoll raised his hairy arms, trying to bat the creatures away.

The black things cackled. It sounded like breaking glass to the gnoll's sensitive ears. Gair was laughing, too. "Orvago, it takes more than that to drive them away. Indeed, I don't think I could make them go away even if I wanted to." His eyes narrowed. "Which I don't."

Suddenly Orvago's back was against the tree. He was feeling behind him for the hollow spot. There. He was working the fingers of his right hand inside the hollow trunk, stretching them lower.

"I know you consider me your friend, Orvago," Gair began.

The gnoll nodded his head animatedly.

"I'm not sure I can trust you. I know you can't talk, at least not in my language, but you can get your point across when you want to. I don't need Goldmoon finding out about my dark companions, my loyal wraiths."

Can we kill him now, Master? the largest of the black creatures asked. Its eyes consumed Orvago's vision. He reeks of life. Let us drink the sweetness from him.

The gnoll's red eyes grew wide and he swallowed hard. That word "Master" again.

Can we, Master? the large wraith repeated.

"I suppose so… yes, Darkhunter. You may kill him."

Orvago howled in disbelief.

"You may kill him," Gair continued, "but do so quickly. I do not want the gnoll to suffer for long."

The large wraith moved to Orvago, touching its icy chest to his hairy gray-green one. The gnoll yowled in agony at the painfully frigid sensation. The undead creature persevered, and Orvago slid to his rump, sobbing and twitching, growing weaker by the moment.

The gnoll's paw fumbled behind him, his fingers moving erratically. The pain was becoming even more intense, threatening to render him unconscious.

The wraiths' whispers grew louder, filled with promises that the gnoll would die but not die, that he would be raised at the behest of their elven master to walk with them. Stronger than the living, more powerful in darkness.

Behind them, Gair's voice grew irritated. "I told you to finish him quickly. There will be others to kill at your leisure!"

Tears poured from the gnoll's eyes, both from the pain that wracked his body and from the knowledge that his elven friend was ordering his death. His fingers continued to fumble about in the opening as one of the creatures thrust its intangible hands into his thighs. The icy sensation was almost more than the gnoll could bear, and he screamed, his voice sounding practically human in its pain.

"Enough of this, I said!" Gair spat. "Kill him now!"

With his free hand, Orvago tried desperately one last time to bat the creatures away. His hand passed through them again, adding to his icy agony. But when his claws raked at the eyes of the creature in front of him, the one called Darkhunter, the thing backed away. If he couldn't harm their ghostly forms, maybe he could hurt their eyes. And if he could hurt them, maybe he could kill them, or at least make them return to wherever they had come from.

The clawed fingers of his right hand finally closed about the carved pommel of the hidden sword. He drove Darkhunter back with the other by poking at the creature's eyes. Another spirit darted in under the sweep of his shaggy arm, its claws out and digging into his side.

The gnoll's sharp cry pierced the night, and the creatures howled in glee.

Do not fight the death we offer. Join with us, Darkhunter said. He floated just beyond the gnoll's reach, letting his fellow creatures dart in and out for the attack. Join with us. Join with us. The words became a ghostly refrain picked up by the other five. In death gain life. Join with us. Join with us.

The gnoll growled fiercely, summoned the last of his strength, and pushed himself to his feet. In the process, he passed through the forms of two wraiths, the sensation insufferable and threatening to send him to the ground again. He gritted his teeth and forced back a howl, then doubled over in pain as one of the spirits passed a hand into his chest. He withdrew the broadsword and swung it in an awkward arc, slicing into the large wraith called Darkhunter.

The wraith screamed, the noise so high and shrill it nearly caused Orvago to drop the blade. The other wraiths paused in their attack.

"Orvago, where did you get my sword?" Gair shouted.

Orvago gasped and swung the blade at Darkhunter again, driving it deep into where its belly would be. The scream was inhuman and long, and it trailed off into a snarl as the wraith flew backward. Darkhunter floated behind Gair, moaning from his unseen wound and cursing the gnoll.

The blade is enchanted, the wraith muttered.

"A magical sword?" Gair waved his hand, beckoning the five other wraiths to resume their attack. "So the man in town sold me a magical sword. Most certainly he didn't realize what he had, or he would have charged me much more. I didn't realize what I had. Do be reasonable, friend Orvago, and put it down. It is not yours, after all. I promise you this will be over swiftly."

The gnoll bellowed and charged forward, swinging the blade to the right and slicing at the waist of the nearest undead. The gnoll's muscles bunched; dragging the sword through the creature was like dragging it through mud. He sliced again, and the wraith howled and fled, even as he brought the weapon around to jab at another. This one, too, retreated.

Only three were left to face him. The elf's eyes were narrow slits, his lip curled upward in a sneer. Orvago had never seen him look like this. The elf's expression caught him off guard and bought his undead opponents an opening.