Messenger of the Dark Prophet (The Bowl of Souls: Book Two) (62 page)

BOOK: Messenger of the Dark Prophet (The Bowl of Souls: Book Two)
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“See Qyxal?”
Zambon smiled at the elf. “I told you it’s good to have a dwarf around.”

 

Beyond the door was a long, empty hallway. The sounds of battle echoed down the hall to the companions from the doors at the far end.  They ran to the end of the hall and Lenny bashed the door, breaking the lock and setting another fire. The four companions pushed forward, but the door surged outward. Wicked orcs and thin men in ragged clothing spilled into the hallway, pushing the companions back.

 

Gwyrtha let out a roar of challenge and bowled through the press, scattering men and orcs alike. Zambon was quick to follow in her wake, swinging his new sword, and leaving Lenny and Qyxal to fight their way forward.

 

  Lenny had no idea why these men and orcs were fighting, but he knew which side he was on. The dwarf laughed as he pounded away at every orc in reach, sending them burning and tumbling away in every direction. Some blundered into tapestries and fires began to rage.

 

The dwarf took his swathe of destruction forward, pushing men aside and taking out any orcs in his path. An eerie screech echoed as three trolls burst out of the shimmering portal. Lenny didn’t know what the portal was, but he knew he had the perfect weapon to fight trolls. He found himself charging at them alongside a muscular wild man that was screaming in rage.

 

Qyxal put a swath of orcs to sleep and looked over the crowd to assess the situation. The battle was bloody. Humans and orcs were fighting and dying. He saw more humans streaming in from a door in the back of the room, while three trolls came shrieking from a shimmering portal near the throne in the center of the room.

 

This was the same kind of portal that had been used to take the group they had followed through the snow. The immense power keeping that portal open was staggering.

 

Qyxal couldn’t see the wizard that had created the portal, but he saw the forces that continued to pour through and knew it had to come down if the humans were going to win. He shifted into mage sight and studied the elements that made up the portal. Once he had the patterns down, he steadied himself for an attack against the magic.

 

 

 

Deathclaw wasn’t prepared for her first attack. Talon’s claws caught him across the chest, sending blood and scales scattering across the stone floor. She was still under the spell of the
Wildersnatch’s
blood. He leapt back into a defensive stance as she came again. She was quick.

 

Deathclaw narrowed his focus and his body became hyper sensitive, his every nerve and muscle under complete control. Time slowed down for him once again as he analyzed her every attack. She was here, the one creature in the world that was like him. His goal was in front of him and he felt more alive than ever.

 

She slashed with right and left claws, her tail barb darting in at every angle. He knocked aside some strikes and dodged others. Her speed was such that he wasn’t able to avoid all her strikes, but he made sure that the ones she landed were minor. It was only a short time before he knew he had to strike back. If not, she would wear him down and kill him.

 

He waited until one particularly nasty swipe of her claws went by,
then
launched his shoulder into her chest, knocking Talon out of her offensive rhythm. He bit into her shoulder and ignoring the pain in his jaw still sore from his battle with the
Wildersnatch
, and tore away, leaving a nasty wound. Talon hissed in pain and pleasure.

 

Deathclaw attacked with every weapon he had, not going for a kill, but to disable her. She would be able to regenerate any non fatal damage he could inflict. He clawed at her shoulders and thighs, sent his tail spike into her hip, but Talon would not go down easily.

 

Hamford watched in a mix of awe and terror as the two dragons fought. Talon seemed to be the quicker and more vicious of the two, but Hamford’s demon was stronger and the better warrior. They were a blur of scales and claws lashing out at each other. The floor was littered with tiny scales that glistened like shards of crystal in the torch light.

 

The fight seemed to be evenly matched, but Hamford hoped that Talon would win. Ewzad would probably have her kill him for allowing his other creations to be destroyed, but he could accept that end. As long as his demon was dead, Hamford knew that he could die in peace.

 

Talon’s frenzied attacks were causing a lot of surface damage, but Deathclaw’s strikes were precise and penetrated deeper. He was having difficulty slowing her down though, because the wizard had enhanced her already formidable regenerative abilities and she was healing too fast. He was forced to increase the power of his attacks, taking more damage in return.

 

Deathclaw took hit after hit and struck his brood mate over and over. Finally, one of his strikes had the result he was looking for. His tail barb shot deep into her hip and sliced a key tendon. She limped to the side and Deathclaw leapt on top of her, pinning her limbs with his greater weight. Talon spit and hissed. She snapped at his face.

 

Deathclaw held her still and chirped a command like he would have back in their old pack in the desert. She paused. He sent a comforting gurgle through his modified throat. The sound wasn’t the same as it had been before his transformation, but she recognized it. It was the first familiar sound she had heard since she had been taken.

 

Talon sent a questioning chirp back and they communicated that way for a while. It wasn’t a complex language by any means. It was more of a way to make general commands in battle, but it worked in calming her down.

 

Hamford couldn’t see what was happening. Their struggle had taken them out of his line of vision. The sounds of struggle had ceased though. One of them had won. He edged closer to the transparent door, hoping to see a better angle. Were they behind one of the pillars? He pressed his face up to the door to get an angle into the side of the chamber and looked straight into a mouth full of teeth.

 

Hamford cried out and fell backwards to the floor as the two dragons appeared in front of the door. Their bodies showed the results of the battle. The demon’s skin was in tatters and hung loosely, exposing muscle in several places, while Talon’s arms and legs were covered in deep gashes and she appeared to be limping. They were torn and bloodied, but they didn’t seem to be in pain. They seemed to be . . . happy.

 

Not only were they no longer fighting, they were working together. They chirped at each other and scratched at the seams around the door. Then the demon began clawing at the knob. How did they know he was in there? Why did they seem so determined to get at
him.

 

Hamford crawled into the far corner and curled into a little ball. The door was heavy and it was locked, but they were determined. He knew that it was only a matter of time before they broke in.

 

Finally, he raised one shaky hand and pulled the only lever in the room that he hadn’t pulled yet. A heavy ramp lowered into the passageway behind the dragons. This one led to a surface tunnel.

 

“Go,” Hamford pleaded. “Go . . . please.”

 

 

 

Justan nearly laughed out loud when Gwyrtha appeared next to him, ripping out the chest of an orc with her claws. A goblin flew awkwardly through the air as Fist joined them. Justan didn’t need to introduce them. His two bonded seemed to know who each other was without explanation. There was no time for introductions anyway. The monsters pressed in and the bonded warriors fought together.

 

Fires raged in the throne room as shrieking trolls ran through the mass of fighters blazing like living bonfires. Lenny and Tamboor stood in front of the portal, working together to keep more monsters from entering the fight. More escaped prisoners entered the battle from the back of the room. Someone had discovered a weapons cache kept by the guards and these prisoners came in well armed.

 

Ewzad Vriil watched from behind his force field helplessly as his world fell apart.
Sparks
flew from the barrier frequently as those engaged in fighting came into contact with it. Fear and anger mounted in the wizard. Every ounce of his power was being used and there was nothing he could do to turn the tide.

 

Then Qyxal attacked the portal.

 

Justan saw what was going on. The elf wasn’t accomplished enough to disperse the spell with defensive magic alone, but the magic that held the portal open was so inefficient and unstable that it left open seams for him to tamper with. Justan knew that if the portal collapsed, all of that power would be returned to the wizard. That portal was the only thing keeping the wizard in check.

 

“Qyxal stop!” he shouted, but it was too late.

 

Ewzad snarled in anger as black streams of earth magic surged up from the rocky floor and wove themselves into the threads of fire and water that made up the portal. Earth magic did not belong in the spell. The alteration made the already unstable spell unravel. Two orcs entering the throne room through the portal were cut in half as it collapsed.

 

Ewzad’s dismay turned to laughter as his energy returned to him. Of course! He didn’t need the portal to defeat this rabble. It was so simple. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? A burst of air exploded from the wizard in all directions sending humans and orcs flying.

 

“You
fools
!” he shouted. His voice was amplified by the unhindered magic of his rings and everyone in the throne room heard him. “Oh, did you think you could defeat me? Me, Duke Ewzad Vriil, master of the Rings of Stardeon and Messenger of the Dark Prophet? Did you? DID YOU?” 

 

His fingers churned as he gathered power for the spell that would cleanse him of this disaster. He would release a pillar of steam that would cook everyone in the room alive. The aftermath would be messy, but everything could be replaced. This was just a learning experience. Yes-yes, he would not be caught off guard like this again.

 

Justan picked himself up off the ground. It was as he feared. The wizard’s magical power was enormous. Whatever spell he released would most likely kill them all. Quickly, he commanded Fist and Gwyrtha to get behind him and focused his magic on creating a shield of his own. With despair, he knew that there was no way he could save everyone, but somehow he would find a way to at least protect his bonded.

 

“Ewzad!”
A female voice cut through the air. Elise Muldroomon burst into the
throneroom
and stumbled over corpses as she ran towards the wizard, tears streaming down her face.

 

Ewzad held the spell back, stunned. “Elise, get out of here now! I will send for you later!”

 

“No!” She spat, ignoring the flames and the battle. “I am The Princess Of Dremaldria. I am not your slave!”

 

“GO
NOW
, ELISE!”

 

She ignored his outburst and ran closer. He had to widen his personal protective shield to include her as well. What had she been doing? She had something in her hand, but it was hidden by the folds of her dress. No matter, she was safe now. He got ready to release the spell.

 

“They told me that it was his heart!” she sobbed. “But I should have known better. I knew it was strange that his ring was missing at the funeral! It is just like you to keep a souvenir!” She threw her father's ring at Ewzad’s feet. “How could you, Ewzad? He was my father! You promised you wouldn’t hurt him!”

 

Ewzad dropped the spell and took a step towards her. “Dear sweet
Elise,
now is not the time. I had no choice, no. I will explain la-”

 

“Never again, Ewzad!
Never again!” she screamed in defiance and plunged the jeweled dark dagger into the duke’s arm.

 

The duke looked down without comprehension at the pommel of the dagger in his arm. His face went pale. His voice was weak.

 

“Elise, where did you get this? Darling, don’t you know it’s not to be used that way?” A swirl of darkness leeched from the pommel of the dagger and gathered around the wound.

 

“Elise!” Zambon hacked past a burning orc and pushed his way to the throne. “Elise, it’s really you!”

 

Elise saw Zambon and her hands flew to her mouth. She ran into his arms, weeping.

 

“Elise! Where are you going? Who is that man?” Ewzad croaked. She didn’t respond, but held on to the man even more tightly, crying into his shoulder.
“Elise, darling!
Get away from that man!”

 

“Leave her alone.” Zambon said, holding her close. He looked into the wizard’s eyes without fear. “She doesn’t belong to you!”

 

“She has ALWAYS been mine!” The man’s fearless
gaze,
infuriated Ewzad even more. His fingers waved at Zambon and the guard cried out in pain. Elise screamed. A flash of steel darted from the crowd.

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