Henry screamed. The Justicar was down-his armor torn and a red blade whipping through the fog to hack him down. Henry moved, but Jus had hit the ground rolling, his white sword streaking from its sheath to parry the incoming cut behind his back. Sparks flew like a fountain as blade met blade, both weapons screaming.
Jus whipped about, hacking at his enemy's feet. The red blade parried, cut, was parried and kicked aside. Jus thrust, rising from the ground, his anger huge and terrifying. Like a massive black bear he raged forward, his sword crashing down in a blow that could have severed a tree. The enemy caught the blow in a lightning fast block, twisting and cutting at Jus's neck. Jus parried fast and hard, hammered three sharp blows at his enemy in a rage.
The blades rang and howled, meeting each other time and time again. Steam filled the air, emanating from the monster still standing in a cloud of icy fog. Only its screaming skull was visible, and the blood-red gleam of its blade.
Jus parried a blow and dealt the creature a kick powerful enough to shatter stone. He missed as the monster somersaulted backward, landing a dozen feet away and sinking into a crisp, deadly fighting pose.
The Justicar faced the creature with his huge sword ready. The enemy stirred, swirling its blade in an identical pattern to Jus.
The mists cleared. Snarling at his opponent, Jus faltered, and then suddenly wavered.
A golden eagle helm snarled at him: a helm made by Grass Runner artisans untold decades before. The armor was rusted and discolored, but he knew it inch by inch. In the dim past before he had a true name, the Justicar had slept, woken, fought, and bled with that armor beside him. The corpse inside the metal suit still bore traces of long, lank hair. The withered skin was scrawled with the traceries of Grass Runner tattoos.
Jus turned ashen, like a boy faced with the anger of a long lost father. "Master Recca?"
The corpse's head jerked up at the name, and eyes of blue flame searched the Justicar. The hand and foot that Jus had cut off with his own sword were back-bleeding, pale flesh stolen from fresh bodies. Jus's old master had risen from the grave. The cadaver opened its mouth in a wild hiss, then leaped with blinding speed to crash its sword toward Jus's skull.
But Jus was no longer there. He slid sideways, his sword catching the attack and ripping past the corpse. The eagle-armored monster jumped over the blow, barely touched by the blade. As the creature landed behind the Justicar, it struck. Jus parried sharp and hard, spun-only to find the corpse had already leaped away. A red blade clanged from his helm, cutting Cinders, then the hissing monster turned sideways as Jus beat its blade aside and lunged with his own sword.
The corpse stood ten feet away, snarling. It bore two wounds-long, shallow cuts that burned from contact with Benelux. The wounds stopped burning slowly and reluctantly, then began to heal as a fetid green blood oozed forth to cover them.
Jus staggered from a long narrow cut along his thigh, spreading a pall of ashen grey. It was as though the blood had been sucked out of the limb. Ten feet away, the undead monster swirled its sword, the blade glowing with an internal light of blood.
The monster spied Henry, the hole, Polk, and Enid. It sidled toward them, hissing slyly as Jus moved to block its way. Appalled, Henry lifted his sword and came forward to help.
The Justicar swiftly threw up a hand. "No!"
"Jus!" Henry came to an anxious halt. "Sir!"
"Back! Stay there!" The Justicar held a hand to keep Henry away. "Put Escalla and Enid in the hole and run! Keep running! Remember what I've taught you."
"Sir?"
"Do it!"
Recca had lost none of his old speed, none of his blinding skill. Undead and immune to pain, fatigue, and pity, the cadaver screeched as it stalked the Justicar.
"Henry, go!"
Henry turned and tipped Enid down into the portable hole. The undead swordmaster attacked, and Jus fought back, matching speed for speed, and pitting his vast strength against the corpse's shocking agility.
They fought, blades ringing, Benelux crying out in anger and agony as she struck. The swords moved fast-so fast that Henry could only stare in shock. The Justicar attacked with terrifying savagery, spinning and kicking at an opponent that blocked every blow. Punches rained but were slammed and parried aside by the undead warlord, who returned his own swift strikes.
Jus crashed his elbow into the dead face, broke its arm, and in return took a kick delivered by a shocking handspring that sent him reeling away. His broken ribs had been hit again, and his left arm hung drained of blood. He blocked a blow to his head, the two swords ringing, then staggered aside, dazed.
His left arm hung numb and useless. One leg could barely move. The Justicar snarled and staggered, managing to get his blade up to take another rain of blows. He had to fight long enough to let Henry get well clear.
Recca. Recca had taught the Justicar the sword-had always mocked his student's rocklike style. As the cadaver shifted its weight, Jus knew exactly where the next lunge would come, and he caught the blow, already making a riposte, his huge sword clumsy when used in a single hand.
The Justicar had once been outmatched by his teacher, but ten years of hard fighting had taught the student vicious new tricks. Jus smashed his helmeted forehead into the corpses skull, breaking teeth and knocking the creature back. He saw his opening and roared, lunging forward with his sword in a blow that would impale the monster through its spine.
He saw a red flash beneath his guard and twisted as he lunged. Benelux rammed into the monster's chest, and there was an intense blast of pain in Jus's side. The Justicar ran the monster through, his sword blasting out through its shoulder, but below Benelux, the corpse's red blade bit into his own flesh.
Jus screamed and hammered Recca back with his fist, sending the corpse flying. He staggered back, the red blade protruding from the bottom of his ribs. The evil sword sucked blood, drinking like a vampire. The undead swordsman lurched to its feet. Hissing in triumph, it lunged for the Justicar with its claws, suddenly fell spinning to the ground.
Polk spat out the monster's human foot just as Henry ripped the red blade out of the Justicar and crashed into the ranger with an impact that plunged both of them into the portable hole. Polk ran, snatched one edge of the portable hole in his jaws, and sped swiftly off into the grass.
Floundering on the dirt behind them, the undead monster snarled. Head down and running, Polk charged onward as fast as four clawed feet could run.
They had run far into the dark-first Polk, then Henry-each pounding onward in a dazed fatigue. Cinders clung about Henry's neck, trying to steer the boy past obstacles and trees. Luna, the greater moon, had not yet risen, her handmaiden Celene was only the barest blue crescent in the sky, and the night was black as pitch. Polk slammed into tree roots and bloodied his snout. Henry had tripped over rocks and crashed through brambles until he was running with blood. Somewhere behind them, the undead corpse was tracking them, and Tielle was staring into a crystal ball, watching each twist and turn. Mad with panic, Polk and Henry sped on and on until they finally collapsed into a gully filled with rocks.
Henry had done what he could. The inside of the portable hole was smothered in blood. The Justicar had been run through, the blade going through his right side beneath his ribs. In a panic, Henry had bandaged him-and he tried to remember all the healing lore Jus had taught him over patient evenings in camp. The blade must have missed Jus's lung. The man wasn't coughing blood but was breathing shallowly and in immense pain, and Jus was pale- shockingly pale. The blood seemed to have been sucked out of him by the terrible red sword, and he might still be bleeding internally. Henry made Jus drink, kept pressure on the wounds, and when he handed over to Polk, the boy ran in a daze.
He slammed down into the gully, with Cinders a hot, smothering cloak across his back. Henry heaved Cinders off himself, then tore open the neck fastenings of his elven mail, trying desperately to breathe. The portable hole landed on the ground, and after a moment, Polk managed to scrabble into view. Exhausted and bedraggled, the badger could only cling weakly to the rim of the hole.
"Son? Son, are you all right?"
"F-fine!" Henry's lungs hurt so much he was about to throw up. "Is… everyone… alive?"
"Bad. Real bad. Enid's getting fever from her wound, son. Nothing I can do."
Polk tried to climb over the lip of the hole, but he was too exhausted to make it. Henry heaved Polk out, then lay on his back crippled by cramps. The badger stirred, almost too weak to move. "It's fine, son. I can run now. Just need a bit of rest and… and a restorative libation."
"We used all the whiskey to clean the wounds."
Polk winced and slumped in gray disappointment.
"That hits hard, son." The badger worked his mouth. "Well, give me water, and I'll be fine to run."
They both lay there, exhausted, in a night so dark they couldn't even see the sky. Above them, Cinders's tail drooped in misery.
Cinders worried… Cinders scared.
"They'll be all right. We can fix them. The Justicar will know what to do." Henry groped for his canteen, but it was empty. "He'll be up soon, then he'll tell us what to do."
Cinders kept watch, his silhouette merely a darker patch of night atop a rock. Henry lay beside the panting badger, dazed and shocked, until finally he blinked and felt his mind grow clear.
"They're all going to die. If we can't save them, then they're all going to die."
Polk said nothing, choosing instead to gnaw his claws and try to think. Henry blinked blindly out into the dark.
"He knew him. The Justicar knew that monster."
"Workings of fate, son."
"No. They fought the same way. Didn't you see? The blade style-it was almost identical! I've never even heard of anyone who can use the sword like the Justicar."
Exhausted, Polk scarcely had the energy to argue. "Jus is a hero, son. He doesn't hold with monsters."
"But it went straight for him. Only for him." Sitting up straight, Henry suddenly saw it all clearly in his head. "Tielle was sent to kill Escalla. Do you think this other monster was sent for the Justicar?"
"By who, son? Who?"
"Lolth."
Rolling over, dazed and damp, Polk said, "Lolth's a demigod, son. Why would she worry her skull over us?"
Remembering back, Henry held his head and tried to reason it out. "Polk? We blew her body up, and… and I think that whole drow temple might have gone up in flames. Would that make Lolth mad?"
Polk blinked. "Son, that would make her bare-arsed, shoot-my-nanny, bat-crap, barking mad."
Polk stiffened, seeing the whole plot before him. He laid a paw upon Henry's arm and stared into the dark.
"Son! This is great, son! Do you know what this means?"
"Um, no."
"Son, this will be the making of us! If by a man's enemies ye shall know him, then we've made the big time at last!"
Henry resisted an urge to bash Polk across the skull. "Polk! Our friends are hurt real bad!"
"Oh, we'll fix that, son! We can just ask the Jus-"
Polk's sentence died mid-stride. The badger subsided and went back to gnawing nervously on his claws.
A stark wind knifed across the lip of the gully, making little stones shift and rattle. Henry kept stiff and still, reaching a hand out to Benelux, which now lay through Henry's belt.
"Cinders?"
Wind. No corpse. No faerie. Cinders smell no animals at all.
Benelux cleared her voice and said, Henry, my dear. Do you think we should perhaps get moving?
"Soon." Henry could scarcely sit, let alone walk or run. "Yeah, soon."
To buy a little time, the young man wiped his mouth and tried to clear his thoughts.
"Where should we run to? What do we do?" He looked at the sword. "Benelux? Any ideas?"
Our comrades require immediate attention.
"But Jus is hurt! How is he going to use his healing magic?"
Polk coughed.
"Your thinking's flawed, son! You listen too much to the Justicar. You have to think on your feet. Improvise!" The badger tried to rise, but only managed to roll over. "Use yer logic. We have a job: Gotta heal the boy and the two girls. Now if we don't have the tools to do the job, then we have to borrow 'em from someone who has."
Benelux seemed suitably impressed. Oh. Quite succinct. Nicely reasoned.
"Thank you kindly. I'm a thinkin' man, Ma'am!" Polk scratched his belly with his claws. "Now, we can't have Henry learn the magic. We can't go to a town for a healer. So that means we need a miracle."
"A miracle?"
"Yep." Polk folded up his paws. "Happens all the time. Somewhere around here, there'll be a healing fountain, a wandering priest, a magic potion, or a sacred spirit just itching to heal our pals! All we have to do is find it!"
Henry gnawed his knuckles in despair and said, "Find it? That could take days!"
"Hell no, son! We need to be more efficient in our technique." Polk rose and took Henry underneath one furry arm.
"Son, what we need here is a crystal ball."
"Idiots! Spread out and look for a trail!" Tielle hovered above her chain monks. She was scuffed, scratched, bedraggled, and tired. Half her spells had been wasted, and the search was proving more difficult than she thought. "Come on! Keep moving! Go!"
The night was pitch dark. Tielle's servants, still numbering about thirty, clanked and clattered up the hills, blundering through brush. Tielle snapped her fingers, and a chain monk brought her large crystal ball. The faerie stared into the bauble with a scowl. She stiffened, clearly liking what she saw. An extravagant hiss commanded her minions to silence.
The crystal ball glowed red, showing an image of Escalla sleeping by a campfire. Tielle jerked her head up and whirred high into the air, spying a faint glow of hidden fire over the next ridge. She descended and signaled her troops to encircle the area.
The chain monks clanked and rattled their way off into the night, heading for the distant glow of a small campfire.
Henry had hidden himself just as the Justicar had taught him: He lay buried beneath a thin layer of soil and scree. As Tielle and her monks drew away, he carefully lifted his head and said, "She took the bait!"
Excellent.
Benelux had accepted Henry as her bearer as a temporary measure. An apprentice warrior was far, far below her station, but needs must as the doppleganger drives. Henry rose carefully from the soil, trying to let it slide gracefully off Cinders's back, but the resultant rockfall sounded shockingly loud.
How did the Justicar do it? Silence spells? Magical rings? The big man could move in total silence when he needed to. Horribly conscious of every snapping twig, Henry slithered off in pursuit of the chain monks, his pulse hammering like a mad thing in his throat. Tielle could kill him with a single gesture. The chain monks could flail him to death. Henry crept carefully in pursuit of the enemy, painfully aware that this was a very stupid thing to do.
He managed to keep Tielle in view. Pure white and alarmingly under-clad, she showed up in the darkness as a pale little shape. The hellish clamor of the chain monks apparently deafened her to the sounds of Henry creeping quietly behind her. Chain monks paused at the edge of the hill, then charged down upon a little campfire hidden in a gully full of stones. Chains whipped through the air, smashing into rocks and stones, lighting the night with sparks. The chain monks shrieked and gibbered, turning the gully into absolute chaos.
Polk came running swiftly over the lip of the gully, leaving the monks stamping and wailing far behind. The badger held the folded portable hole in his mouth, having dragged Escalla back inside before he ran. Polk slid to a halt and went flat behind a fold of earth, blinking as he tried to see Tielle.
"Son? Where is she, son? Damned badger eyes can't see squat!"
"Shhh!" Henry almost couldn't be heard above the monks' manic screams. He held a hand over Polk's snout. "Keep still!"
The campfire had been beaten into flinders, and every rock in the gully had been overturned. Henry thanked the gods that Tielle had come to the fire before the eagle warrior, but the cadaver was possibly still minus one foot.
The young soldier lay flat and watched as Tielle brought order to the chaos. Well-built, blonde, and angry, the faerie flew above her minions and lit the night brilliantly with a spell.
"Stop that! They're not here! Fan out and look for signs!" The faerie adjusted the thong of her costume, casting an eye over her slaves. "You! Bring me the crystal ball. Now!"
Henry watched as a chain monk uncovered the crystal ball from its robes. The monk was surrounded by its comrades, and Tielle hovered overhead. There was no way to reach in and steal the prize. Henry squeezed himself flat against the ground as Tielle turned in his direction, the faerie activating the crystal ball with a quick pass of her hands.
"Show me Escalla!" Glaring into the ball, Tielle made a noise of frustration. "She's gone! I can't see." Tielle swore, then opened her hands above the crystal ball. "And the other one! Show me the Justicar!"
The crystal ball apparently didn't respond. Tielle swore. She tried shaking the crystal ball, then slapping it. She was aware Henry existed but apparently couldn't remember his name to ask the crystal ball. She finally cursed and glared out over the gully.
"They're in that damned portable hole again!"
Tielle hissed, chewing a knuckle as she thought. Finding a well-folded portable hole in the middle the night was impossible. The faerie gave a sudden smile, looking malicious and sly.
"This is all for the best! We'll return to the vampire pool. We need more water from the pool, and more spells to use on all our little friends tomorrow." Tielle whirred her wings in annoyance. "Come on! They're only walking. By tomorrow morning, they won't have gone far. We can play a nice new round of the game tomorrow, after they've lost a full night's sleep."
With that, Tielle dismissed the whole night's work. She had two of her chain monks whip their manacles about two small, scrubby trees, bending their branches together while she lashed them into place with cord. Tielle consulted a leatherbound book held by one of her servants, then quickly drew symbols on the ground, branches, and trees. She tossed a handful of something through the arch of the branches, the wind catching some of her offering and blowing it away. The space beneath the arch instantly blazed into life, forming a shimmering blue doorway of a very familiar kind, and Tielle chivvied her shambling chain monks through the magic gate. With a last sneering look over the hills, Tielle passed beneath the arch, and the gateway went dead as she disappeared.
The return of absolute darkness was a shock. Henry half rose, blinking, with ghostly images of the glowing gateway dancing through his eyes. He kept a hand on Polk, keeping him still, while he tried to decide whether all of Tielle's monsters had gone.
The silence was absolute. Tielle's chain monks seemed incapable of stealth. Deciding to risk it, Henry rose and let Cinders take a sniff at the breeze. The hell hound made a careful check, then settled his fur.
Monster gone. Bad faerie gone. Magic here. Maybe big bit. All on trees.
"Thanks, Cinders."
Released at last, Polk sputtered in fury. "You let them go, boy! They got away!"
"Polk, there were a million of them!" Henry scuttled over to the tree arch, trying to think just like the Justicar. "No. The thing to do is follow them and steal the thing. Strike where they're off their guard."
"That ain't heroic, son! Man to man! Blade to blade! That's the way it's done!"
"Shh!" Henry felt Polk giving him a headache. He suddenly felt a lot sympathy for the Justicar. "All right. See if you can find what she used as a gate key. Some of it blew away in the wind."
Cinders did the hunting, sniffing as Henry thrust the hell hound's head at bushes and scanned him over the ground. All of a sudden, the big black hell hound thumped with his tail.
Girlie smell!
They finally found two long hairs caught against a bramble bush-fine golden hairs, almost a twin to Escalla's locks. Henry took them carefully in his hand and looked at the gate, then picked up Polk and made sure the badger had the portable hole held safe and sound.
"Right. We go in, we get the crystal ball, then use it to find a miracle!"
The badger gave a snort. "It's not too late to opt for a direct duel to the death, son! Go blade to blade with the minions of evil! Think of your career!"
Henry let the comment go. He advanced, waving one golden hair before him. As the hair flashed and disappeared, the gateway bloomed an eerie blue, and Henry stepped through into an echoing, empty cave.