Reckoning Read online

  The world seemed to be disintegrating all about them, the earth convulsing and spitting forth the dead. The ghouls closed, moaning, mindlessly or perhaps in expectation.

  Silas ignored the turmoil and drew a large circle in the snow, softly speaking an incantation while he did so. When he completed the circle he spared one quick glance at the encroaching horrors, then took a small vial from inside his pack and sprinkled the edges and interior of the circle. When he was done, he stood with the others, his staff ready.

  “I’d feel better if you didn’t look ready to fight,” Adrianna said, managing a wry grin.

  “Sorry,” Silas said, returning the look. “I wish I could be sure, too.”

  A ghoul burrowed to the surface just outside the circle. As it pushed itself into a sitting position, Barlow lunged at it, slicing its head off. As Gabriel passed through the undead creature, the sword emitted a brief flash of white.

  “Stay inside the circle,” Silas warned his friend, seeing that the paladin’s attack had left him just outside the figure he had inscribed. As Barlow jumped back, Silas knelt to repair the marred portion of the circle. “Just want to be safe,” he explained to the others.

  A ghoul came near, a hungry look on its face, its ragged lips curled into a leering smile. Adrianna raised her hand, ready to cast a spell, but as she did so, she glanced at Silas.

  “Let it come,” the cleric said. “If the circle won’t hold, I’d rather know when one crosses than when a hundred do so.”

  The ghoul reached out its arms, so near its prey. It took a lurching step, then another, then suddenly stopped. Puzzled, it looked down, and there saw the line Silas had drawn just beyond its lead foot. It moaned again, louder, a frustrated, angry sound.

  “Can it hold more than one?” Uesra asked.

  “We’ll soon find out,” Xanar interjected before Silas could answer.

  Silas’ confidence in his warding circle continued to grow as more and more ghouls neared but were held at bay.As their numbers grew, those in the back pushed those in front forward, and so powerful was Silas’ holy spell that the nearest ghouls shoved, scratched, and clawed their way back into the crowd, allowing others to move up into the rock-and-a-hard-place situation. As the ghouls continued to close, the pressure grew, as did the frantic lengths to which those in front went to fight their way out.

  “What happens if they’re pushed over the line?” Darius asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Silas. “And I don’t want to find out.”

  “No offense,” said Xanar, “but as much as I appreciate what the circle’s done for us, we do seem a bit…trapped.”

  Silas forced a smile. “I do have something else in mind. The circle was just to buy some time.”

  Xanar bowed formally and said, “My apologies.” Even though his words were sincere, he still wore a faint smile.

  Silas sat in the center of the circle and closed his eyes, focusing inward. His friends surrounded him, weapons drawn, watching the ceaseless press of the ghouls with growing trepidation.

  Adrianna felt the most exposed, knowing the spell she had ready would only have a small impact, and once cast would leave her defenseless. She glanced anxiously back at Silas, not comforted by his placid demeanor, willing him to hurry.

  One of the ghouls emitted a near-scream as it was forced inward, its back to the circle. It tried going up and over the others ghouls, which formed an impenetrable wall. Losing its footing, it fell back and landed halfway in the circle, its waist over the line.

  It screamed and thrashed as if on fire. It twisted and forced its way through the legs of the nearest ghouls, its cries of pain fading as it disappeared into the crush of its fellows.

  After watching this display, and knowing it would be repeated again and again until there was no more escape for the ghouls, and therefore none for the travelers, Adrianna looked to Silas once more. He remained as before, breathing deeply but otherwise unmoving.

  Finally he rose, telling the others, “Stay close. Very close.” He stepped to the edge of the circle, said a brief prayer, then pulled out the cross that hung about his neck and held it before him.

  Even in their frenzy, the nearest ghouls paused at the sight of the cross.

  Silas held the vial he had used to consecrate the circle in his other hand. He inched toward the line, then with a flick of his wrist sprinkled the nearest ghouls.

  Their reaction was far more volatile than had been that of the ghoul falling across the line. Where the holy water struck them, their skin tore open, as if the water was a sharp blade. The nearest ghouls scrambled to get away, creating the beginning of a path.

  Silas advanced, the cross before him, prayer on his lips. The ghouls parted and drew back. The companions moved forward in a tight group, the ghouls giving way with decreasing resistance. Darius glanced back and noted few of the ghouls followed them. Most were starting to wander off, looking for easier prey.

  The path grew wider and their pace quickened, some of the ghouls casting longing looks before backing away, others yielding to the sight of the cross or the impact of the holy water. Before them the last of the surrounding monsters finally gave way, and a gap opened, the unmarred beauty of the snow beyond calling them to freedom. As they reached the opening, a lone figure stepped into their path.

  It was another ghoul, similar to the others in most respects, save that it wore a rusty crown and held a soiled golden sword. It eyed the travelers levelly, the tip of the sword planted in the ground while its hands rested on the weapon’s hilts. It waited twenty feet beyond the edge of the circle of ghouls, and although it held its ground, the other ghouls continued to drift away.

  “It is wonderful to be alive, is it not?” it asked.

  Silas held his cross before him and continued to pray.

  The ghoul laughed. “You have done well to turn the others, holy man, but such will not work against me.”

  “Perhaps this will,” said Barlow, drawing Gabriel. The sword glowed white, confirming the ghoul before them was more than what it appeared to be.

  “So quick to fight,” the ghoul-demon said, chastising Barlow with his words and a laugh. “What happened to ‘turn the other cheek?’ ”

  “Word games will avail you nothing,” the paladin answered.

  The ghoul-demon shrugged. “I wish I could have had a better body, but I suppose one can’t be too choosey. This was a king, and a mighty king at that, so many ages ago. But still, in the end, he comes to nothing, as all of you will.”

  “Someday,” Adrianna said. “But not this day.”

  The ghoul-demon laughed again. “Well spoken. You have courage, I’ll give you that. And some inner strength. You’d make fine servants in the underworld.”

  The ghoul-demon took notice of Xanar and Uesra for the first time. “Oh, but I see you travel in mixed company. Well met, good elves. What news from your realm?”

  “Nothing that would interest you, servant of darkness,” Uesra replied.

  “Perhaps you are right. Men’s souls are so much tastier.” He turned his gaze back to Silas, who still stood with the cross held out before him. “And there are few men left like you in this world. Oh, how I wish I could be in the south, to see the kingdoms of men in ruins, to feed off the pain and despair, off of the hopelessness. Even if I step aside, you would have nothing to return to. I do you a favor to slay you here, while the will to fight still burns within you, while you still hang onto faith, as foolish as that might be,”

  Xanar readied his bow. “You’ll understand if we don’t thank you ahead of time for this wonderful favor.”

  “Of course,” answered the ghoul-demon. If it was concerned about the ice-arrow aimed at its chest, it hid such concern well.

  They stood facing one another, the travelers and the ghoul-demon, while a silence fell. The creature did not move or flinch, content with the delay, while none of the companions wanted to strike the first blow.

  As the seconds passed the tension grew. Silas gla
nced back, wanting to be certain that the other ghouls were not moving in from behind while the companions’ attention was otherwise occupied. Luckily the ghouls continued to move off. Silas turned back to the ghoul-demon and said, “Looks like it’s just us. The next move is yours.”

  “I think not,” the ghoul-demon said. “We can stand here until you freeze to death. My patience is beyond your reckoning, being that I’m as old as this world.”

  “Doesn’t mean we have to fight,” Darius said. To the others he suggested, “Let’s just go around.”

  The ghoul-demon had the sword in its hand in an instant, a lightning-quick move that seemed impossible when one considered its partially-decayed body. It held the sword out to its left, slowly brought it down before itself so that at the lowest part of its arc it drew a line in the snow, and finished the movement by holding the sword out to its right. “None shall cross this line.”

  “And if we turn back?” Uesra asked.

  The ghoul-demon smiled and shrugged. “There you’ve bested me. If you try to turn back…I’ll have to kill you anyway.”

  Suddenly it sprang forward, the golden sword lagging behind so that it could whip it overhead for a downward strike at Silas.

  Silas lunged backward, unable to let go of the cross and vial of holy water and draw his staff in time to ward off the blow. The tip of the ghoul-demon’s sword kicked up a small spray of snow as it cleaved the ground between Silas’ feet.

  The ghoul-demon’s surprise movement only gave it an instant’s advantage. As its blow fell, Xanar released an arrow, and Adrianna launched the spell she had prepared earlier when they had been surrounded by ghouls. The arrow was swifter, striking the ghoul-demon’s left shoulder, or at least nearly doing so. It vanished in a thin white cloud, as if vaporized.

  Adrianna’s spell struck before anyone could really register what had happened to the arrow. A fireball engulfed the ghoul-demon, and the monster was suddenly ablaze. It fell back, pinioning its arms and screaming, the flames all about it now, as if it had been made of dry paper. It fell to one knee, gave one last cry of anguish, and shouted, “What have you done? What have you done, you vile sorceress?”

  Adrianna, stunned at the spell’s impact, was speechless.

  For a moment all was quiet save the crackle of the flames engulfing the ghoul-demon. Then the beast started to shake, until it exploded in laughter. It shook its head and rose, and the flames flared anew, racing skyward. “Odd choice of spells to cast. Maybe I’ve given you too much credit for your intelligence.

  Adrianna blushed but answered back levelly, “A fortunate bit of luck for you. It would have been more effective against your counterparts, for whom it was intended.”

  “Perhaps,” the ghoul-demon said. “No matter. I sort of like the effect anyway.” It smiled and looked at its hand, the flames licking around the flesh, charring it. Raising the sword once more, it said. “Enough talk. Time for you to die.”

  It feinted toward Silas but went right, toward Darius. It was quick, but the young man was prepared. He was able to parry but not able to hold the block, forced to spin away by the ghoul-demon’s speed and strength. He knew if he could tie the ghoul-demon up he would give his friends a clear shot at it. He didn’t need to win a one-on-one battle, just settle for a temporary draw.

  Unfortunately, the ghoul-demon was aware of the same things as Darius, and had no intention of locking in on one opponent while ignoring the others. It had wanted to go after Adrianna, thinking her defenseless, but the paladin was close to her, and that sword… The ghoul-demon would never admit such a thing, but the sword frightened it almost as much as the cross and holy water the cleric held. It could only hope its bluffs would buy it enough time to carry the fight. It took a second, quick swipe at Darius, solely intended to force him back, then did a back-flip, coming down between the two elves. It spun as it landed, bringing the heavy sword around in a killing arc.

  Xanar was already switching to his daggers, understanding the magic arrows he used couldn’t overcome whatever dark defenses the ghoul-demon was employing. Too bad, he thought, thinking ice arrows to be an appropriate attack against a creature of fire. His posture was pure defense, his daggers giving him no reach whatsoever against the ghoul-demon’s great sword. But if the ghoul-demon turned away and gave him a good target… Xanar rolled under the ghoul-demon’s cut, while Uesra held her ground, her scimitars crossed to catch the golden blade.

  The ghoul-demon sensed the trap, stopping its assault as soon as it felt its blade ready to lock with the she-elf’s. It slid the blade clear, rolled itself to gain some distance from the recovering he-elf, then pivoted swiftly to cut at the legs of the now-approaching paladin.

  Barlow had only moved a few steps, but the gap between he and the ghoul-demon closed too quickly as the creature whirled away from Uesra. Unable to block the attack, he used his momentum to aid in a leap, which allowed him to clear the blade. It did not, however, allow him to clear the ghoul-demon, which had risen into a half-crouch as it swung. He hit it hard, the two of them tumbling to the ground and, luckily for Barlow, rolling apart. Both somewhat disoriented, Barlow lifted himself up and assumed a defensive posture, while the ghoul-demon, a ball of fire stark against the snow, continued a controlled roll. When it arose it did so swiftly, its blade cutting furiously in case any enemies were near.

  Adrianna was preparing another spell, and tracked the ghoul-demon as it spun clear, planning to strike when it tried to regain its feet. But as it did so, Silas moved between her and her target. She dropped her hands and shifted left, looking for an opening, and as she did so, she saw that the cleric still wore his staff on his back. “Silas,” she gasped, unsure why he charged the ghoul-demon without his weapon being ready.

  Silas thought—hoped—he knew what he was doing. The ghoul-demon had clearly not been turned as had the other undead, but this was no surprise considering the undead body was possessed by a living spirit. The ghoul-demon had implied it didn’t fear the cross and the holy water, and it had gone after Silas first, but only to launch a quick attack. In the flurry of activity that followed it was hard to be sure, but Silas thought the ghoul-demon was trying to avoid him and Barlow. Now he was betting his life on it.

  Silas went straight at the ghoul-demon while it rolled, casting caution aside. As it finally stopped and gained its feet, he halted as well, keeping clear of the sword. He extended his arm to show the cross, and flicked a small stream of holy water at the monster.

  This time the ghoul-demon’s screams were real. The flames that burned its flesh increased in intensity, the heat forming a protective barrier around it.

  Silas shielded his eyes but refused to back away. He unleashed another stream of the liquid, aiming for the center of the flames.

  The ghoul-demon howled in rage and pain, then it shot forward, the flames trailing behind, murder in its mind. The golden sword arced down, aiming for the cleric’s extended arm.

  Silas stubbornly held the cross in place but pulled back his other arm, ready to use the vial once more.

  The golden sword stopped a foot from Silas’ arm in an explosion of light and flame. Gabriel held it at bay.

  Silas brought his arm forward, but rather than flicking more water, he threw the entire vial.

  The ghoul-demon took the holy water in the face. The liquid had no immediate effect on the flames, but its impact on the ghoul-demon was dramatic. It fell to the ground, the golden sword tumbling from its hands, and thrashed about in mindless agony.

  Barlow stepped forward and brought Gabriel down, ending the ghoul-demon’s torment. Moments later nothing remained but a charred body that had been cleanly sliced in two.

  Xanar surveyed the ghoul-demon’s remains and asked, “Got any more of that water? Seems like it might come in handy again.”

  Silas forced a smile. “I can prepare some more.”

  “Do so,” Uesra said, her tone not nearly as light as her fellow elf’s.

  Darius gauged the position
of the Grim Mountains, then pointed to the northeast. “That way, right?” he asked Uesra.

  “Correct.”

  “Then lets get moving,” he said, doing so himself. “The further we put this place behind us, the better.”

  * * *

  The last few days had been a whirlwind for Dentris Batog, and the last few hours even more so. Such could be the life of a diplomat at times, tiring and exciting at once. All-in-all, things had gone as well as he could have hoped for to this point. He had left the Westphalian capital city of Golden less than two hours after news of Landri’s death had reached King Gregor, had been admitted to Longvale as a diplomat, escorted as a guest to Old Bern, and within an hour of his arrival was being ushered to Landri’s former throne room. Now the truly interesting part was ready to begin, and his senses were electric. He knew he had to be ready for anything.

  A guard opened the door to the throne room, led him inside, announced him, then turned and left, leaving him alone with only two men, the relaxed-looking person on the throne, and the shadowy figure that stood behind him to the right. Dentris made note of the fact that he had not yet been searched. An oversight? Something else? At the moment he didn’t have time to consider it further. He gave a formal, low bow and said, “I bring greetings and condolences from King Gregor III of Westphalia.”

  “Thank you,” said the man on the throne.

  Dentris waited a beat, cleared his throat, and continued. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, sir. May I inquire as to whom I have the good pleasure of addressing?”

  “Oh, my apologies. I am Kaelesh, former chief advisor to Landri, and this is my brother, Praad.”

  Dentris bowed again. “An honor, sir. Sirs. Do you now rule in Landri’s stead?”

  “I currently speak for the kingdom. The matter of succession has yet to be decided. I’m sure you’re aware that Landri had no heirs, nor does any of his family yet live. The line has been broken.”