The Balborite Curse (Book 4) (22 page)

“Help? From a doddering old crone like me? What could I possibly do?”

“You’re the only family I have. I tried to broker peace between the dwarves before, and failed. They don’t accept me, and they never will. You’re a spellcaster, so all the clans respect you. I need you to intervene—let the dwarf council know what’s going on.”

She scoffed. “You’re a mage too, and a gifted one. The clans respect you plenty.”

Tallin looked into her eyes, his expression serious. “I’m a dragon rider, and they respect that. But let’s be honest. I’m a half-ling—none of the clans will ever accept me for who I am.”

Mugla opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by pounding at the door. “Miss Mugla! Open up, please! We need your help!”

Tallin rose and opened the door. Two freckled young men rushed in. They were twin brothers, like mirror images of one another. They were incoherent, babbling so hysterically that it was impossible to understand what they were saying.

“Stop!” Mugla said. “Slow down and take a deep breath! We can barely understand you!”

One clamped his lips shut and the other spoke, wringing his hands. His voice was high and frantic. “There’s some crazed woman outside the gate! She’s throwin’ lightnin’ bolts and shakin’ the ground, and spinnin’ boulders all over the place! The main gate’s comin’ right off ‘er hinges!”

Tallin’s eyes opened wide. “A lone spellcaster? She’s all by herself?”

“Aye,” the teen nodded, hopping back and forth nervously. “We tried shootin’ a couple arrows at ‘er, but the arrows bounced right off ‘er skin like it was nothin’!”

Mugla’s expression turned serious. “Does she have black marks on her skin?” she said quietly.

Now the other boy spoke. “Yes! She’s all warded up, covered head to toe with runes.”

Tallin and Mugla glanced at each other with horrified eyes. They both knew who it was—and if she gained access to the inside of the mountain, the Vardmiters would be slaughtered like sheep. They were under attack.

Skera-Kina
was at the gates of Highport
—and she was out for blood.

Tallin and Mugla rushed to the front gate. Even from a distance, he could hear the attacks, with a sound like thunder echoing through the mountain. Everywhere he looked, dwarves were frozen in place, their eyes black with terror.

At the gate, the scene was one of utter chaos. The guard that had greeted him only hours before lay dead on the ground, shot through the eye. Frantic men ran around everywhere, carrying ropes and buckets. Women and children ran screaming in all directions.

Tallin felt his heart pumping faster. Before he could react, Skera-Kina struck again, and the iron doors shook so violently that a cindery cloud of dust burst through the cracks. Pebbles from the ceiling showered down on the people below.

The Vardmiters
’ leader, Utan, was barking orders. “Reinforce the gate!” he cried, spurring a group of men into action. “Use boulders, logs, anything you can carry! Hurry up, don’t just stand there!”

People scrambled to help as the attack continued unabated. Another man fell dead, hit in the head by falling rocks. Mugla came up behind Tallin and put her hand on his shoulder. “I warded these gates myself. The gates should hold, but the earth surrounding them may not.”

“If the doors are breached, the Vardmiters are doomed,” said Tallin with apprehension. “They can’t defend themselves against her. She’s going to bury all of us alive in here if we don’t do something. I need to get outside. Is there another exit?”

Mugla nodded, pointing down a dark tunnel to her right. “There’s a crawlspace that leads outside. You may be able to fit. At the end of that passageway, there’s a round copper gate. I secured it with an enchantment, but you can open it with a counterspell. Go through that gate and into the next chamber. Inside, you’ll find a small tunnel. It’s very narrow, and you must crawl on all fours. Once you feel wet soil, hold your breath, because you’ll be forced underwater. At the end of the tunnel, there’s a smaller cave with a boulder at the top of a short flight of stairs. From there, you can exit to the outside. But don’t let her see you!”

Tallin nodded. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“I’ll try to keep her at bay as long as possible. Be careful.”

Tallin bolted down the passage, listening to the panicked screams behind him. He found the copper door quickly and unlocked it with a spell. He entered a smaller chamber, so dark that he had to create a flame to illuminate the space. After a long minute he could make out the tunnel at the rear of the cave. The opening was very small, barely large enough to allow him to pass. He removed his tunic and all his weapons except for a boot knife, then dropped down onto his hands and knees and squeezed his way inside, his body scraping stone as he crawled. He continued for what seemed like an eternity until his fingertips touched moisture.

Seconds later, his breath was taken away when his body plunged into a shallow pool of icy water. Just before his muscles began to cramp from the cold, his head broke the surface, and he gasped to fill his lungs. After a few sucking breaths, he climbed into a small cavern. The cave was dark, and the only light came from the iridescent red moss growing up the walls. It glowed eerily in the darkness. Moisture dripped down into the pool of water he had just exited.

Broken gravel littered the floor, and a musty smell permeated the air. A bleached skeleton lay in one corner, the bones stripped clean and white, mineralized over the centuries inside the hidden chamber.

On the other side of the room, a short flight of steps took him to the opening, blocked by a boulder as Mugla had said.
“Dyrvorar-hrfkkva,”
he murmured, moving his hand in a glowing arc. The boulder slid aside, leaving a small gap for him to squeeze through. He crept out and moved the boulder back into place, sealing the exit behind him.

Tallin was relieved to discover that his position was not visible from the foot of the mountain. Moving as quietly as he could, he scrabbled down the mountainside. His eyes fixed on the figure in front of him as he crept toward the front gate, crouching in the shadows.

The noise was deafening. Smoke and dust filled the air, and the ground shook. It was a cacophony of falling boulders and shattering stone. The mountainside was disintegrating against Skera-Kina
’s onslaught.

The gates trembled on their hinges, and Tallin knew that they would not hold against her terrible onslaught much longer. Skera-Kina stood alone before the front gate, her body glowing like a blazing sun.

“Come out and face me, you filthy cowards!” she screamed, throwing balls of molten fire against the doors. “Cowards, every one of you!” She battered the doors again with another ball of fire.

Tallin continued moving forward until he was close enough to hear her panting breath. Tallin froze. Faintly, she sensed movement behind her. She stiffened and paused, turning her head slowly. She met his eyes, and an evil grin spread from ear to ear. Then she lifted her voice in a shriek of triumph. “My enemy has come!”

Tallin bit back a curse—he’d lost the element of surprise.

The distance between them vanished, and they faced each other. “I’ve waited so long for this day!” she crowed with wicked glee.

“How boastful you are. I have bested you
twice
before. This time, though, I
’ll make certain you are dead.” Tallin circled her, waiting for the right moment to attack.

“Fool mage!” she laughed. “I’ve followed you for days through these forests—watching you upon that old horse, dragging that cart behind you like some old peddler-woman! I gazed upon your sleeping face last night and could have killed you so easily—but,” she let her voice drop, “where is the sport in that? No, half-ling… when I kill you, I want you to see your death
coming.
We have a score to settle, and slicing you to ribbons in your sleep holds no pleasure for me.
”

“You’re a fool then. You should have killed me when you had the chance. I won’t make the same mistake, I promise.” He raised his hand in the air.

She gave a grisly, brittle laugh and leapt forward, slamming the ground in front of her with her fist. “Your blood shall fall like rain upon the earth, half-ling!” she cried. “My revenge shall be terrible, and before this night is over, you shall plead for death!”

A blue streak of electricity erupted from the earth and streamed through the air. The fiery cable arced toward Tallin’s bare chest, and he cried out as the painful current shot through his body.

Tallin fought the pain and choked out a counterspell. He crumpled to the ground as her spell dissipated.

“I’m going to tear you in pieces, and when I’m done with you, I’ll kill all the dwarf vermin inside that mountain.” Skera-Kina raised a glowing fist.

“You will not! You’ll not touch them, do you hear?” Before she could react, a ball of light formed in Tallin’s hand. He threw the pulsing orb in her direction, and she swerved, avoiding it by a feather tip. The orb exploded in a shower of sparks behind her.

“Is that your best, half-ling?” she taunted. “You’re getting old; your speed is not the same as it once was. You’ve grown weak—soft.” She drew a shining sword from a magnificent scabbard on her hip. The blade quivered with white light.

Tallin felt his dragon stone pulsing. The blade was enchanted! He could feel the draw of its power. His eyes widened. The blade looked so familiar—where had he seen it before? “How did you acquire this blade?”

With a wicked laugh, she flipped the sword in the air. “You like this sword, half-breed? This is a truly a magical blade; no armor crafted by mortal hands can defend against it. It’s true that enchanted weapons are quite rare, and this may be the rarest of them all! I traded it for a paltry thing—a necklace of black pearls that I found in the orc mines years ago. There’s one among the dwarves whose greed vastly outweighs her common sense! She will sell anything—for the right price!”

Tallin’s jaw went rigid with anger.

Bolrakei.
A woman so greedy that she would barter the dwarves
’ priceless weaponry for trinkets! The thought filled him with rage.

Armed only with his boot knife, Tallin stepped back. He knew that if the enchanted blade touched his skin, he was doomed. Skera-Kina leapt forward swinging—he ducked as the sword hissed over his head. Twirling like a dancer, she spun again, swinging the blade at his chest, but he jumped back and rolled away. He rose up to defend himself again, and as she swung the blade, Tallin twisted midair and plunged his knife into her side, sinking the blade up to its hilt.

“Auggggh!”
She screamed in pain, clutching Tallin
’s shoulder; she was remarkably strong, but Tallin was stronger, and he took the opportunity to disarm her. He jerked his elbow down with all his might, slamming her wrist and knocking the sword from her hand. The blade skittered away, its razor edge sparkling in the moonlight.

Both tumbled to the ground, Tallin fighting to get himself free from her iron grip, while Skera-Kina writhed, trying to wrench the knife from her body. “Get off me, dwarf!” she screeched. She kicked him—hard—below the ribcage, knocking the air from his lungs. She kicked him a second time, and he heard ribs crack. Sharp pain blasted across his side, and his vision blurred. Skera-Kina dropped another fierce blow across his face, splitting open his cheek.

Without flinching, she stepped back and drew Tallin’s knife out of her side, throwing the dagger into the bushes. Red blood spilled from the wound, but she never took her eyes off Tallin. She brought out a small vial from her waist pocket and uncapped it, dripping white liquid into the cut. The deep puncture healed instantly—not even a scar was left on her tanned skin. Skera-Kina tucked the little bottle back into her pocket and moved forward.

Tallin rose up again, wincing as he felt the pain from his broken ribs. A colorful bruise was spreading down the right side of his face, but Tallin ignored the pain, not willing to use his energy on a healing spell. Skera-Kina had come prepared—the healing potion worked just as well without draining precious energy. They watched each other’s movements, looking for weakness.

Skera-Kina
’s sword was lying on the ground behind him, and he reached for it instinctively, but then stopped.
Enchanted weapons are dangerous; I should not touch it.
Instead, he kicked the sword farther away with his foot, not willing to touch the blade with his bare hands.

She stepped closer, her lip curled with contempt. Skera-Kina lunged, and Tallin slid around her, hooking his foot behind her heel. He locked his forearm under her chin and threw his weight forward. Her head shot back like a cracked twig, and she fell. Tallin moved to pin her body to the ground, but she anticipated the movement and kicked out his knee. Her teeth flashed as Tallin collapsed.

She was on top of him in an instant, straddling his body, pummeling his face with her fists. Her fingers had long nails, the tips dipped in melted silver. She clawed at his eyes, and the spiked nails drew blood, scratching over his cheeks and eyelids as she tried to blind him.

His anger seethed, boiled over. His chest arched against hers, and he rolled her over, shoving her face into a patch of snow. He tried to pin her arms, but she broke free of his grip and jumped up again.
“Skellr-bresta-elta,”
she said, and twin strands of glowing white energy erupted from her palms.