In the passage below the opening, the equipment that had been left behind last summer was scattered all over the place. Once everyone had made their way down, Lord Kueryn directed Riyan to lead the way.
“How did you find this originally?” asked Lord Geop.
“One of my sheep had a weak spot for berries,” Riyan explained. “While he was helping himself, he must have fallen through.”
“Interesting,” replied Lord Geop.
Riyan led them past a smaller passage that intersected theirs on the right, then down to the main intersection where he turned to the right. Had he turned left, he would have led them to two bier rooms, one of which held a chest full of copper coins they had deposited there last time when their packs had grown too heavy. Not far past the intersection, they came to the collapsed passage on the left. Then a short distance past that was the stairs leading down to the next level.
Keeping them in the lead, Lord Kueryn followed Riyan and Bart down the steps. At the bottom, they emerged into a passage running to their left and right. Riyan turned to the left.
Lord Hurrin turned his gaze toward where the passage disappeared into the darkness on their right. “What’s down there?” he asked.
“The dead,” replied Bart.
“Do they have weapons, armor, and the like?” questioned Lord Geop.
Bart hesitated a moment before replying. The scenes of desecration he had witnessed near the Wrath of Hennon came to mind. Realizing they’ll know soon enough anyway, he said, “Yes, but it’s in poor condition.” Behind him, whispered conversations passed between Lords Hurrin and Geop.
Up ahead, their torchlight revealed another descending flight of steps approaching on their left. When they reached it, Bart and Riyan turned into it and took them down.
“How are we going to get out of this?” Riyan whispered to Bart.
Moving down the steps side by side, Bart leaned closer and said, “I’m working on it.”
As the steps ended and Riyan emerged into another passage, he didn’t think their chances of making it out of this alive were very good. Moving to follow the passage to the left, he struggled to think of a way out. Not far from where they exited the steps, an opening appeared on their right. Entering, Riyan again looked upon the body of the King laid out in reverence.
The room was diamond shaped with a stone bier resting against each of the four walls. Laid upon one was the King, the other three held what they believed to be lords that held fealty to the King. Above each of the four biers were a sword and shield bearing their respective coats of arms. Those coats of arms had played a critical role in the recovering of the key segments. In the center of the room was the opening of the stairwell leading to the final level, and the Horde.
“The King,” breathed Lord Kueryn in awe. Moving toward the bier upon which the King lay, his eyes were fixated on the sword and shield hanging upon the wall.
One of his soldiers came to him and laid a hand on his arm. “No uncle,” the soldier said. When Lord Kueryn turned eyes of anger upon him, he removed his hand. “Do not disturb the King.”
“What do I care for a man long dead?” he asked. Turning his eyes back to the sword and shield, he said, “I must have them.” Unblemished by rust or the passage of time, they had to hold magic of great power.
“But this is not right!” urged his nephew.
Lord Kueryn again turned his attention to his nephew. “Do not try my patience Haran,” he said. Glaring, he held his gaze until Haran looked away. Then he moved toward the bier and pushed the King’s body aside in order to climb onto it. From there, he stood up and removed the scabbard from the wall.
“Magnificent,” he said as he drew the sword. He waved the sword about, testing its balance and grip before resheathing it. “Unparalleled craftsmanship.” Turning a grin toward the other two lords, he hopped down from the bier. He then unbuckled his old sword belt and tossed it aside before donning the new one.
“What about the shield?” asked Lord Hurrin.
“We’ll take it when we leave,” he replied.
His nephew Haran had a very disapproving expression and he turned it toward Captain Lyrun who was removing the sword and shield bearing the dragon-sword coat of arms.
“You are correct my lord,” Captain Lyrun said, turning back toward the others. “These are remarkable.”
Riyan and Bart stood near the steps leading down. Riyan had a fleeting thought of trying to escape while Lord Kueryn and the others were distracted. But then he thought, where would they go? They were in a hole in the ground. It wasn’t as if there were many places to hide down there.
“Should we make a run for it?” he finally asked Bart.
“No,” he replied. “I think I may have an idea. It’s a long shot.”
“What is it?” Turning toward his friend, Riyan hoped it would be a good one.
“No time to explain,” he replied. “Just make sure I’m the one to put the key in the wall down below.”
Riyan looked questioningly to his friend. It didn’t make any sense, but he had long since learned to trust Bart’s judgment in such things. “Okay,” he said.
The group spent the better part of ten minutes in that room before Lord Kueryn decided to move on. “How much further?” he asked them.
“It’s down below,” replied Riyan. “We’ll pass through three rooms of the dead before coming to the sigil inscribed wall.” Motioning for them to precede him, they began descending to the lowest level.
At the bottom, they emerged into a large room with thirty biers, each bearing a corpse of a warrior. Three pairs of two massive columns stretched from the floor to the ceiling.
As they crossed through the room to the door on the far side, they maintained a quiet awe at being in the presence of so many dead warriors. Riyan was sure some of those following behind him were more in awe with the monetary gain they would receive from the sale of the accouterments of the dead, than of the dead themselves.
Once they were through the door on the opposite side of the room, they entered another passage that after a short span, turned abruptly to the right. From there, it went on until they reached another room containing another thirty biers of dead warriors. Here too, six columns rose from floor to ceiling.
Riyan and Bart angled to the left a bit as they headed across the room toward the beginning of another passage. Entering the passage, they moved to where it turned sharply to the left. From there, the passage continued for quite a ways before coming to a room twice as large as the previous two. Sixty biers lined this room, and six columns that were three times the size of the earlier ones rose to the ceiling.
“Have you ever seen anything like this?” asked Lord Geop when he entered the room.
“Never,” replied Lord Hurrin.
A dark doorway gaped in the wall on the far side of the room. It was the beginning of the final passageway which would see them to the Horde.
“It isn’t far now,” Bart assured them.
“Then let us hurry,” Lord Kueryn replied. The anxiousness he felt in reaching the Horde was clear in his voice.
Even Riyan, who knew he may very well be killed the moment the Horde was opened, felt excitement. For a year now, he has thought of naught else but finding out what was beyond the sigil inscribed wall. What kind of treasure had the King taken with him to the afterlife? Anticipation almost overrode the fear he felt. Almost.
They passed from the large bier filled room and followed the passage. Like the two passages connecting the three rooms, this one too turned abruptly after a short distance. As Riyan turned left around the corner, he saw the long passage that led toward the final room. Somehow, he had always imagined things would be different at this moment. Never in his wild imaginings had he thought that he would be bound and leading someone else. His thoughts turned to his friends left behind on the surface. He hoped they would be alright.
The air was charged with expectation as the final room came into view. It was as Riyan had remembered it. Just within the room on either side of the entryway were large, empty urns. Across the room from the passageway opening was the wall covered in sigils. At the base of the wall was a dais, two steps lead up to it. Lying on the steps was the skeleton dressed in ragged clothes. Its upper body was upon the dais with one arm outstretched toward the pattern of sigils on the wall. It was in the skeleton’s hand that they had found the first segment of the key which started it all.
Lord Kueryn was amazed by the sigil inscribed wall, as was Geffen his magic user. “Incredible,” he breathed. His eyes were inextricably drawn toward the circular indentation wherein the key was to be placed.
“Was that a friend of yours?” questioned Lord Geop.
Riyan turned toward him and saw that he was asking about the skeletal remains on the steps. Shaking his head, he said, “No. We found him like that when we arrived.”
“Who was he I imagine?” asked Lord Hurrin.
“Probably just a thief who wasn’t careful enough,” replied Bart.
“What do you mean?” asked Lord Kueryn.
“The dais is trapped my lord,” he replied with a grin. “Good luck in trying to reach the wall.”
Lord Kueryn looked again to the thief, then the steps leading up to the dais. His face turned into a frown as he glanced at the circular key held in his hands. Then coming to a decision, he said, “Okay thief, you open it.”
“Me?” asked Bart. “But my hands are tied and I don’t have my tools.”
Lord Hurrin pulled the familiar rolled leather pack that held his picks. “Do you mean these?” he asked.
Bart didn’t answer.
“Untie him,” Lord Kueryn stated. “Let the thief open the Horde.”
One of Lord Kueryn’s men came and cut the bonds binding Bart’s hands. Then Lord Hurrin handed him his picks.
“I trust they are all still here?” he asked as he took the rolled leather. Bart grinned inwardly as he saw how his words had scored with the lord. Turning to the River Man, he reached out for the key.
“After this,” Lord Kueryn said, “you and your friends will be free.”
Bart didn’t reply, he just took the key and turned back toward the sigil inscribed wall.
“Good luck,” Riyan said.
“You better hope he is successful,” Lord Kueryn said to Riyan. “For if he fails, you will be next.”
Bart glanced to Riyan and gave him a grin. “It won’t come to that,” he assured him. He saw Riyan nod then turned to the wall. Taking a calming breath, he stepped forward.
Riyan and Bart had no sooner left with the River Man and his men, than Kevik felt someone tugging at his pack. Lying paralyzed on the ground as he was put him in little position to object. There were a couple more tugs as they tried to get it off of him, then he felt the straps being severed by a knife just before it was taken.
“You shouldn’t be messing with a magic user’s stuff,” a voice said.
“Shut up and keep watch on the prisoners,” another voice said.
From the way Kevik had been deposited on the ground, all he could see was Chyfe’s back and a little bit of the sky. Who had his pack and what they were doing with it, he didn’t know.
“Anything good inside?” asked a third man.
“Not for you,” the first man replied. There was a pause, then… “Must be his spell book.”
“I hear they always have magic traps on those,” Second Voice said.
“I know that,” First Voice replied. “I’m not stupid.”
Another moment of silence as they continued rummaging through Kevik’s pack.
“Looks like a wand,” Third Voice said. “Could be worth a few golds.”
Then… “You better not open that,” said Second Voice.
“What?” asked First Voice. “Are you afraid a demon will jump out and steal your soul or something?”
“You can never be too careful when dealing with magic users,” Second Voice explained.
“Oh come on,” said Third Voice. “Open it.”
A couple seconds of silence pass then… “There’s nothing but gray powder in here,” complained First Voice.
“Maybe it’s a spell component,” Third Voice said. “You can get a lot of coins for some of them.”
Kevik felt control of his limbs return. Before him, he saw Chyfe’s back move ever so slightly. Working his jaw, he found that it moved. The spell holding them was gone! “Keep still!” he quietly urged the others.
He desperately needed to know where their enemies were in relation to him and the others. Ever so slightly, he rotated his head to try and acquire a better look at their surroundings.
It seemed like forever, but he saw where half a dozen Tribesmen were going through their packs. All their belongings were strewn across the ground.
A plan began to form. He needed to neutralize everyone at once, and he needed to do it fast. There was only one way. “Listen,” he said to the others, “on two, take a deep breath and hold it.” Unable to ascertain if they understood or not, he quietly whispered, “One…two.” On ‘two’, he took a deep breath and sat up.
“Hey!” one of the soldiers exclaimed. “The spell’s worn off.
As Tribesmen and Byrdlon soldiers turned their attention toward him, Kevik focused on a spot nearby where the majority were congregating and cast his spell. A yellow fog enveloped the men who quickly succumbed to its effects. He cast the spell again in a different area, this time taking out most of the Byrdlon soldiers.
Once more, arcane words issued forth as Kevik watched three soldiers with swords drawn coming straight for him. Before the soldiers could reach him, he, as well as the oncoming soldiers, were enveloped by another of the yellow sleep clouds.
Kevik took a moment to see if the cloud would affect him and the others lying next to him. He hadn’t been entirely sure that holding one’s breath would work. But as he was still conscious and all the soldiers were not, he had to conclude that it would.
He nudged Chyfe into motion as he quickly came to his feet. To his relief, Chyfe, Chad, and the twins were getting up. They had heard him and were holding their breaths. Kevik turned toward where the soldiers had been going through his pack and saw that the small box which contained the gray powder was closed. He knew it would be, otherwise his spells wouldn’t have worked. For when the box was opened, the gray powder absorbed nearby, active magics.
Chyfe grabbed him and indicated he should get out of the cloud.
Kevik shook his head vehemently. He first had to retrieve his staff and other items which lay before him. Pointing to them, he shrugged off Chyfe’s hand and hurried forward. As he rushed to gather his things, Chyfe came with him and helped.
Once everything was back in his pack, Kevik picked it up and raced for the perimeter of the yellow fog. His lungs were desperate to expel the old air, but Kevik kept them under control. When he at last broke into fresh air, he started gasping. Next to him, Chyfe hit the ground as he too, began drawing in deep breaths of fresh air.
Off to their right, Chad and Soth were dragging Seth out from the yellow fog. When Chad noticed Kevik looking their way, he said, “Seth couldn’t hold his breath.”
Kevik nodded then looked around the area. From the number of motionless forms lying in the yellow fog, he figured to have affected them all. Further examination of the area revealed that they were the only ones moving.
“How long will that last?” Chyfe asked, indicating the yellow fog.
“Not that long I’m afraid,” he replied.
“Damn,” cursed Chyfe. “Is there any way to prolong it?”
“Not with the spell I’m using, no,” replied Kevik.
By this time, Chad and Soth were bringing a recovering Seth over to join them. Now that he was out of the fog and taking in fresh air, the effects were beginning to dissipate.
“Your goo spell lasts for awhile,” suggested Chad. “Hit them with that.”
“True,” agreed Kevik. “But it would still only give us a little more than an hour before they would be free again.”
Soth laid his brother down on the ground and knelt next to him. “You never could hold your breath,” Soth said.
Seth tried to respond but the affects of Kevik’s spell still hadn’t worked its way through.
“As soon as Seth is recovered,” Chyfe began, “we need to go after Riyan and Bart.”
“They won’t kill them, will they?” asked Chad.
“Probably not until the Horde is opened,” replied Chyfe. “But after that…?”
For five minutes they waited until Seth was sufficiently recovered to be able to walk on his own. Hopefully by the time they caught up with the others, he’d have thrown off the last vestiges of Kevik’s spell. During the time they waited, Chyfe and Soth made forays into the fog enshrouded area to reclaim the rest of their equipment.
Once Seth was recovered and ready to travel, Kevik began casting his goo spell on those lying motionless within the fog. Over and over he cast it until they were confident every body out there was covered to some extent. Once that was accomplished, they picked up their packs and followed the trail left by the group Riyan and Bart were leading.
Coming to the berry patch, they saw where the vines had been cut back revealing the gaping hole leading down into the earth. Chyfe took the lead with Kevik right behind. As Kevik followed Chyfe through the hole, the tip of his staff flared with light as he cast his light spell. The last through the hole was Soth. His brother was still a bit unstable and had to be assisted down to the bottom.
“Which way?” Chyfe asked Chad. As the only one to have been down there before, it fell to him to lead the way.
Pointing to the left, he said, “This way.” Moving out, he took the lead. Somewhere far beneath them were Riyan and Bart. Quickening his step, he hurried to the rescue.
The last time he had used these steps, he was struck by a poisoned dart. If it hadn’t been for the quick thinking of Riyan and Chad, he would be dead.
Bart paused as he approached the first step, his eyes scanning it and the next one for the pressure plate he triggered last time. When at first he didn’t find it, he knelt down and began running his fingers lightly over the surface of the bottom step. He closely examined a two foot section before proceeding to the second. When he failed to locate any, he put both hands on the bottom step and pressed. Repeating the process with the second step, he finally came to the conclusion that the area he just checked was free of traps. The one he tripped previously must be elsewhere.
“Would you hurry up?” demanded Lord Kueryn.
Bart glanced back to him and could see the impatience the man felt in his face. “If I make a mistake,” he said to the lord, “it could have severe repercussions. You are more than welcomed to do this yourself.”
“Upstart!” he yelled. Then he brought his emotions under control as he knew none other than Bart had the expertise to do this.
Turning back to the task at hand, Bart moved up and knelt on the top step. From there, he began examining the dais for pressure plates. True, he was taking longer at this than he normally would. Aside from the pleasure annoying the River Man gave him, he desperately wanted to figure out where the pressure plate was that he triggered the time before. It had been his hope to somehow trigger it and have the dart strike the River Man. With him injured, they would then be forced to return to the surface which would improve the possibility for escape. But seeing as how he has been unable to locate it, he was purposely stalling in the hopes another plan would come to him. After another minute, something did come to him rather unexpectedly.
Bart?
He almost turned to Riyan and asked ‘what?’ before realizing it had come through the ring he wore. Kevik?
We’re on the second level, Kevik explained.
How did you get away? Bart asked. Kevik sent an image through the ring depicting dozens of bodies lying unconscious in a yellow fog. Good thinking!
Are you and Riyan safe?
For the moment, replied Bart. We’re at the Horde’s entrance and I’m stalling. Not sure how much longer their patience will hold.
Understood. There was a slight pause then… Take out the magic user first.
What? Bart was confused.
When all hell breaks loose, take out the magic user first. If he can somehow counter what I’m going to do, we’re dead.
Bart nodded to himself. You got it.
Try to draw their attention away from the passage leading to the room. We’ll be there in five minutes. Then the connection was gone.
Draw their attention… Bart glanced to the sigil inscribed wall and knew how to accomplish that. Standing up, he turned to the onlookers and said, “It’s clear.” Glancing to Riyan, he held up the hand bearing the ring and with his thumb, wiggled the ring.
Riyan noticed and nodded.
“Then open it!” demanded Lord Kueryn.
“As you wish my lord,” Bart said bowing. Turning back to the dais, he was fairly sure there were no traps between where he stood and the indented space in which the key must be placed. He had been a little further to the right of where he was now when he had been struck by the dart.
Moving forward slowly, making it appear he was being cautious when in reality he was just killing time until Kevik and the others arrived, he approached the wall. In his hand, he pulled the key out from where he had stashed it within his shirt while checking for traps.
One side had the map, the other bore lines that he was sure would align with the sigils overlapping the circular indented area. As he came to a stop, he saw that properly aligning the key when he inserted, would indeed make the sigil pattern whole. He moved the key toward the indented area and rotated the key to misalign the sigil pattern on the key with that which was on the wall. Sliding it in as far as it would go, he stood back.
Nothing happened.
“What is wrong?” demanded the River Man. “Why isn’t it opening?”
Bart turned back to him and said, “Maybe it needs magic to activate the sigils?” Looking past the head of the River Man, and into the passageway opening, he saw for a brief moment a light far in the distance before it winked out. It could only have come from Kevik’s staff.
Lord Kueryn turned to his magic user Geffen. “Is he correct?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” he said.
“Then do something about it!” ordered the River Man.
“Yes my lord,” he replied. Stepping forward, he ascended the two steps and came to stand next to Bart. It took him but a moment to see that the key was misaligned. “You fool!” he said to Bart. “You didn’t put it in properly. The sigils must be aligned!”
“Oh,” Bart said, acting as if he hadn’t realized that fact.
Geffen reached out to the key and rotated it until the sigils on the key completed the greater pattern on the wall. As soon as they aligned, the entire sigils surged to life.
“Ah!” exclaimed Lord Hurrin.
“About time,” Captain Lyrun stated.
Geffen and Bart scrambled from the dais as the sigils glowed brighter and brighter. Every eye in the room was fixed on the wall. One of Lord Kueryn’s men said, “It’s beautiful.”
Bart hurried to Riyan’s side. “They’re out in the passage,” he told him. “Get ready.”
A grinding noise seemed to come from all around them as the left side of the wall began moving back. Stale air exploded into the room as the wall slowly opened inward like a massive door.
“Now Kevik!” Chyfe said.
Still fifteen feet from the room, Kevik held the box of gray powder as he watched the wall begin swinging open. So much magic! It was a palpable presence to him, he could feel its effect radiating outward from the wall. The plan had been for him to use the powder in the box to nullify the power of the magic user. But being in the presence of this much magic, he didn’t know if he dared open the box. Fear of what might happen if it were opened while the sigils on the wall glowed caused him to hesitate.
“Do it!” urged Chad. Standing with sword in hand, he waited for Kevik to open the box.
“I don’t dare,” he told them. “There’s too much magic.” Slipping the box within one of the larger pockets in his robe, he then withdrew the wand. He knew it had a power that dealt with cold in some manner, and was sure he could activate it. But unlike staves that replenished their power over time, wands held a specified amount of magic. What Kevik didn’t know was how many times he could use it, though he was certain it would work at least once.
With staff in one hand and wand in the other, he said to the others, “Okay, let’s do this” Looking down the passage toward the room, he could see the magic user where he stood next to the River Man watching the wall open. Aiming the wand as best he could, he activated its latent magic.
Geffen was awed by what he was seeing. Never before had he seen such power being used at one time. It was awe-inspiring. Then something intruded on his mind. He wasn’t sure what it was but something made him glance back down the passage leading from the room.
Before he even realized what he was doing, words of magic issued forth. No sooner had the protective shield materialized, than a wave of ice shards broke over it.
Bart’s first impulse was to kill the magic user as Kevik had said. But since there were five Tribesmen including one of the Lords between him and the magic user, he altered the plan. As soon as he saw the attack on the magic user, he struck the nearest Tribesman in the stomach. Grasping the hilt of the man’s sword, he drew it forth as he kicked him backward into his fellows.
Grabbing Riyan by the front of the shirt, he launched him toward the dais.
“We’re under attack!” yelled Captain Lyrun. Pulling his sword, he moved to the mouth of the passage and was almost fried as a fireball leapt from Geffen’s hand in a counter attack.
“Get behind me!” Kevik yelled as the fireball raced toward them. Shouting arcane words, a shield appeared before him. When the fireball struck, an explosion flared as his shield was utterly destroyed and a wave of heat rolled over them, singing hair and turning their skin red.
Staring down the passage toward the magic user he saw him already casting another spell. Kevik knew a newly raised Practitioner could never hope to stand against a magic user of such skill and experience.
“Kevik!” cried out Chyfe as another fireball raced toward them.
“Here!” Kevik hollered. As he cast another shield spell, he handed Chyfe the box of gray powder.
Wham!
The fireball exploded on his shield, sending another wave of heat rolling over them.
Kevik saw Chyfe start to open the box. “Not yet!” he yelled. “Wait until the sigils on the wall stop glowing.”
“But we might die before that happens!” Chad hollered.
“Wait!” ordered Kevik as he readied another shield for the fireball that was already on its way.
“Move damn you!” Bart yelled.
“The thief!” he heard someone yell. Turning he saw Lord Geop moving his way, sword drawn. “Stop!” he ordered. Bart ignored him.
Riyan, with his hands tied as they were, tripped going up the steps to the dais and fell prone upon its surface.
Bart had sword ready to meet the lord’s attack when something flew by his ear and struck the approaching lord in the cheek.
Exclaiming in surprise, the lord pulled the dart from his skin. Bart could see where the skin was beginning to radiate red spidery tendrils as his wound had the year before. The lord threw the dart to the floor and continued toward Bart.
“Get through the wall!” Bart said to Riyan.
Riyan scooted his way across the floor as best he could with hands tied behind his back. He was almost there when a hand took hold of him. He turned and looked into the eyes of a Tribesman.
“Fear not,” the Tribesman said. Then he said one word, Shaelyn.
Understanding immediately came. Shaelyn, that was the name of the girl back in Marl Crest who had been in love with the captured Raider. Looking up, he recognized the Tribesman who had hold of him as being that Raider. It was Haran, nephew to Lord Kueryn.
“I owe you and your friends a debt,” he said as he dragged Riyan to his feet. Five other Tribesmen joined them and together, helped Riyan move toward the wall that was now halfway opened. Beyond was a short passage that ended at another room, within which, something glittered.
Bart glanced back and saw the Tribesmen with Riyan and feared the worst. Before him, Lord Geop was beginning to lose his balance as the spidery tendril spread across his face. Staggering, his sword fell from his hand as he dropped to his knees. A moment later, he toppled over.
At the mouth of the passage, he heard another fireball leaving the magic user on its way toward his friends. He hoped Kevik could hold his own for there was nothing he could do to help. Turning about, he charged the men standing with Riyan. Riyan saw him coming with the intent of rescuing him. He was about to speak when Haran put the edge of his sword to Riyan’s throat and shouted, “Come no closer or he dies!”
Bart slowed and then stopped.
“Drop you sword,” ordered Haran.
Hesitating only a moment, Bart let go of the sword.
“Now,” Haran told him, “come and stand next to your friend.”
When Bart came closer, Riyan said, “It’s Haran.”
“Who?” Bart asked, not making the connection.
“Marl Crest,” Riyan reminded him. Gazing at his friend’s eyes, he saw understanding dawn.
Bart turned to Haran and asked, “Is this how you repay someone for your life?”
“You’re still alive aren’t you?” he asked. Then he turned his attention to Lord Kueryn and the rest who were near the mouth of the passage. “If your friends can defeat Geffen,” he told them, “we may have a chance.”
“We?” asked Riyan.
Haran nodded but didn’t explain further. Beside them, the sigil inscribed wall had almost completely opened.
Kevik’s robe was smoking, the smell of burnt hair and flesh permeated the passageway as time and again Kevik’s shields prevented the worst of the fireballs from getting through. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been able to shield them from the heat.
Each time the fireball erupted on his shield, a wave of heat would roll over him singing hair and burning skin. Pain was a constant companion as he once again created a fire shield.
“Now?” yelled Chyfe. He and the rest had moved further back to escape the worst of the heat.
Kevik turned toward him and they could see his face was a mass of blisters. Hair all but singed off and his robe glowed red in two places where it burned, Kevik was in a bad way. “No!” he shouted.
“But you can’t survive much more!” argued Seth.
Wham!
Another fireball exploded on the shield. This time, Kevik stumbled to one knee. “Not yet,” he gasped. He turned his eyes toward the glowing wall behind the magic user. “Not yet,” he breathed. Leaning heavily upon his staff, he regained his feet. He saw a fireball racing toward him and cast his shield spell again.
Wham!
The explosion knocked Kevik back a step and his staff flew from his hand.
“Kevik!” cried Seth.
Kevik seemed to stand there motionless for a moment before toppling backwards.
Seth raced forward and caught him before he hit the ground. “Come on man,” he said as he laid Kevik down.
Kevik’s eyes were unfocused and he looked like a piece of meat that had spent too much time in the fire.
“Get up!” urged Chad. Looking back down the passage to the other magic user, he saw him beginning to cast another fireball.
Soth retrieved Kevik’s staff and placed it in his hand. He knew they were in trouble when Kevik’s fingers failed to tighten on its shaft.
“The gem!” cried Seth.
Chad was watching the magic user at the end of the passageway and said, “There isn’t time.”
Then, Kevik raised his head slightly and looked down toward the sigil inscribed wall. When he saw it come to a stop and the glow emanating from the sigils fade, he weakly said, “Chyfe…”
“What?” Chyfe asked leaning closer to hear what he was saying.
At the other end of the passageway, light flared as another fireball shot toward them.
“Oh my god,” exclaimed Chad as fiery hell hurtled toward them. This time, there would be no shield protecting them.
Barely above a whisper, Kevik said, “Now.”