The Book of Deacon: Book 03 - The Battle of Verril (15 page)

“H-help,” she whimpered meekly, reluctant to
turn to the others.

The spire she leaned on gave way, nearly
taking her with it as it plummeted to the ground below.

“HELP!” she cried, her hesitation gone.

A moment later she felt a sharp tug and was
yanked into the air by her waist. She released an earsplitting
scream as she watched the rooftop drop away beneath her.

“Cease that screaming, beast!” Ether
warned.

“I DON'T CARE! PUT ME DOWN! I'LL TAKE MY
CHANCES WITH THE DEAD PEOPLE!” she shrieked, her eyes clamped
shut.

Ether dipped and deposited Ivy on a roof on
the far side of the valley.

Ivy, opening her eyes reluctantly, suddenly
cried out. “No, no! On the ground! ON THE GROUND!”

Ether ignored the pleas. Ivy kicked the
nearest spire, dislodging it with a single blow, the dash of anger
giving her a surge of strength. She stomped over to the next spire
and tugged at it, snapping its base and dragging it with her as she
continued her tantrum. She grumbled loudly, punctuating her
complaints by smashing additional spires with the makeshift
club.

“What sort of a stupid IDIOT takes someone
who is afraid of HEIGHTS and drops them on a ROOF!” she cried,
destroying the other spires.

Now once again trapped on the roof with
nothing more to do, she swung the crumbling remains of the
makeshift club in a few circles and hurled it. It soared in a high
arc, smashing into the stone platform in the center of the
valley.

Deacon was rushing through the narrow
walkways between the structures, finding it harder and harder to
find one that did not already have the undead pouring from it.
Myranda followed just behind conjuring up freezing winds, tangling
vines, and anything else she could think of to slow the flood of
creatures. Finally, Deacon came to a stop, trying desperately to
catch his breath.

“It is no good… There are too many loose
already,” he panted. “I need to get to a roof. I might be able to
figure something out about these crystals.”

After an abortive attempt to levitate himself
to the roof, he willed a portion of a shattered door into a
makeshift ladder. With his crystal floating faithfully beside him
as he ascended, he made his way to the roof, destroying the ladder
when Myranda was safely beside him.

“If those things start to climb, do what you
can to keep them off of me, if you would,” Deacon requested.

Myranda nodded. The wail of ruined voices and
the shuffle of withered feet was constant. Picking out which was
closest or what might be a threat was nearly impossible. Deacon, on
the other hand, filtered it all out, committing the whole of his
considerable attention to the largest of the radiant crystals. He
held his own crystal up to the larger one and furrowed his brow,
eyes darting occasionally, almost as through he were reading.
Without the pair of them below actively slowing the progress of the
undead swarm, it was not long before they began to work their way
up the sides of the crypt.

On a distant roof of his own, Lain was just
finishing the final spire. Most of the crypts were near enough to
one another for him to leap directly from roof to roof. The undead
were too slow to reach him before he moved onto the next roof, and
too mindless to climb onto adjacent roofs, rendering them a
non-issue for him. As he chose his next target, he saw Ivy, far in
the distance, hesitantly approaching the edge of a roof before
retreating amid a splash of blue. His eyes swept across the roofs.
Most around him were littered with the sinewy remains of those
unlucky enough to be chosen by Ether as a projectile, not a spire
remaining. Breaking into a sprint, he bounded from roof to roof
when they were near enough, and down to the ground when he needed
to. His blade made a path through the legion of undead who, despite
the considerable efforts of he and his allies, only seemed to be
growing thicker.

In moments Lain had carved a path to Ivy,
bursting up to the roof where she stood. She was first startled,
then relieved by his appearance. He took her by the hand and led
her to the edge of the roof. She reluctantly allowed herself to be
pulled along, but as the ground came into view, she pulled back
again, drawing in a sharp breath and trying hard to push down the
rising fear.

“You can do this,” he insisted.

“No. No I can't, Lain,” Ivy stammered,
crouching and covering her eyes.

“Ivy. Listen to me. Listen!” he ordered,
jerking her hands away from her face.

She locked her tear moistened eyes on his
gaze.

“Stand up. Do you see that roof there?” he
said, pointing to the next crypt.

“I don't want to . . . “ she began.

“Look! Do you see it?” he repeated
forcefully.

She nodded.

“I want you to jump to that roof. Don't look
down. Just look to the roof. You can make it,” he instructed.

She took a shaky breath as he led her back
for the running start. Her eyes were on the far roof. Lain held her
hand and took his first steps forward. She forced herself forward,
charging down the slope of the roof a half step behind him. When
she reached the edge she shut her eyes tight and jumped. A moment
later she crashed down, sliding first up, then down an icy surface.
She splayed out, digging her claws into the ice and clenching her
teeth against the fear. When she slid to a stop, she felt a sharp
nudge at her shoulder. Cautiously opening her eyes, she found that
she was clutching the shingles on the opposite side of the peak of
the roof she'd been aiming for. She'd nearly cleared the entire
crypt.

“I . . . I did it!” she cried, springing to
her feet and bouncing about happily.

Lain nodded before dropping from the roof and
climbing to another. Ivy took a few more moments to savor her
achievement before setting to the task of destroying the crystals
once more. Overhead, fatigue was beginning to get the better of
Ether. Locked entirely into this form to limit the parasitic effect
of the crystals, she found herself subject the weaknesses of the
form as well as the strengths. Settling her massive shape down on
one of the roofs furthest from the others, the shape shifter took a
moment to catch her breath and survey her progress. Perhaps a third
of the crypts were rid of their spires, as mound after mound of
once again motionless dead would attest to. Curiously, it seemed
that those they had defeated had been completely replaced with more
to spare.

Deacon continued to stare at the crystal,
occasionally shouting out an observation to Myranda, oblivious to
how quickly she was losing ground to the undead that dragged
themselves in ever increasing numbers onto the roof. She quickly
learned that, now as near to the magic absorbing crystals as she
was, it was best to resort to more traditional means of dispatching
the horde. The bow was removed from her shoulder, and arrows were
carefully aimed. The sinewy walking dead offered little resistance
to the arrows. Her shafts passed right through them, and often
through the creature behind as well. The mindless beasts were soon
being struck down three to an arrow, and still the roof grew more
dangerous.

“Hurry!” Myranda called out, finally
resorting to blasts of wind to knock the swarm from the roof. Sure
enough, the nearest crystals took on a far brighter glow and a
handful of the fallen dead rose once more.

“There are three spells. One shielding the
crystal, one supporting these creatures, and . . . I cannot quite
determine the last one,” he said, finally deciding he was out of
time.

He stepped back and flexed his mind. Steadily
his influence spread. One by one the surrounding crystals took on a
brighter and brighter glow as they drew in the strength that was
pouring out of him. More and more of the corpses that had been
deprived of the unholy force that was fueling them stirred and rose
from the ground.

“What are you doing?” Myranda cried.

“Just a moment more . . . “ he struggled.

Finally, every last one of the surviving
crystals was glowing brightly. There was a brief flash in the heart
of each one, and finally he relented, nearly losing his footing as
the vast mental effort came to an end.

“There. The shield spell. It was the only one
I could break,” he said.

Myranda drew back an arrow and let it fly at
a crystal on a nearby roof. It shattered easily.

“The crystals are vulnerable. Shatter them
directly!” Myranda cried.

Lain put blade to crystal again. This time
the brittle gem shattered. Ivy fetched up a rock and did the same.
Myranda launched arrow after arrow. Deacon guided his deadly blade.
The undead dropped by the dozen with each crystal broken. In mere
minutes, the whole of the valley was stripped of every last gem.
The heroes gathered on a single roof to survey the aftermath. Every
last patch of ground was piled high with the remains of the
horde.

“That was an ordeal,” Deacon said, wiping
beads of sweat from his brow.

Myranda looked over the horrid sight with
revulsion. As stomach turning as the landscape was, littered with
the dead, a thought entered her mind that she could not shake.

“It isn't enough,” Myranda said.

“I'd say it is plenty enough!” Ivy said
inching cautiously to the edge of the roof before pulling back. “I
really don't like it up here.”

“No. I mean. This war has been going on for
more than a century. If the fallen of each battle have all been
brought here, there should be more,” she said.

“You give the D'karon more credit than they
deserve. They couldn't possibly account for every last casualty,”
Ether offered.

“Even so . . . “ Myranda said distantly.

Lain closed his eyes. Ivy did the same.

“Uh oh,” Ivy said. “Do you hear that?”

Lain nodded, adding. “Underground.”

“What do you mean, underground?” Deacon
asked.

“Look!” Myranda called, pointing to the stone
platform in the center of the valley.

The spire Ivy had hurled at it was gone. In
its place was a hole. Beyond it, darkness. Myranda made her way
down to the ground, trying to push from her mind the fact that the
mounds she trudged over had at one time been human beings. Deacon
and Lain followed. Ether, still in the griffin form, glided from
the roof, leaving Ivy behind.

“Hey!” she cried angrily. “Don't leave me up
here!”

Ether landed beside the others, just at the
edge of the platform. A few paces ahead, the hole made it clear
that it was not a platform at all, but a roof. Beyond it was
darkness, and from inside, the distinct sound of shuffling feet and
voiceless moans.

“The whole floor of the valley must be
riddled with tunnels and chambers,” Myranda surmised.

“With their own crystals, no doubt,” Deacon
added.

“Bah. Leave them. If our purpose here was to
damage the cause of the D'karon in some inane punishment for
threatening Lain's precious little pet, then it has been done,”
Ether dismissed.

“What would happen if we did leave them?”
Myranda asked Deacon.

“Well . . . provided the undead didn't escape
the valley, the crystals would likely run down and they would cease
to live,” Deacon offered.

“And if they did escape the valley?” she
asked.

“I can't be sure, but it was clear that the
curse that raised these soldiers was meant to be spread. If even a
single afflicted corpse were to make it to the outside, the curse
could conceivably be spread without limit,” he replied.

Myranda thought silently for a moment.

“The crystals that are down there, would they
have been stripped of their protection as well?” Myranda asked.

“I poured a fair amount more effort into that
spell. I would say any object on this mountain with a similar
protection has been deprived of it,” Deacon answered.

“So any crystals that are down there are as
brittle as glass,” Myranda continued.

“Roughly,” he replied.

“Good. I have an idea, but I think I am going
to need your help. You as well, Ether,” Myranda stated.

“If you are even considering going down
there, you can be sure I will of be no help to you. Such a foolish
endeavor is undeserving of my aid,” the shape shifter stated
categorically.

Myranda calmly stated her plan. In her
present form, a look of disgust was a near impossibility, but Ether
succeeded admirably before reluctantly nodding. Lain set off for
his part immediately, whisking to the rooftop that held Ivy and,
amid considerable protest from her, bringing her to the ground. The
pair then found the safest route to the rim of the valley and
waited. With them in place, Ether took to the air, circling just
overhead. Myranda crouched on one knee, Deacon assuming a similar
posture. She placed the tip of her broken staff into the icy earth
just beyond the edge of the stone platform. He flattened his hand
against the same earth. Both entered a deep state of concentration.
Slowly, a soft but undeniable rhythm began to emanate from the
ground where they touched it. It was erratic at first, but as it
grew stronger, it grew more steady. The rhythm grew into a rumble,
then a roar. Bricks fell from damaged buildings. The hole in the
roof widened. The pair of wizards worked at the spell, building it
to the limits of their strength. Cracks split the earth. Whole
sections of the valley floor fell away, bringing with them the
mounds of fallen soldiers they had supported. Still the shaking
grew. Snow, ice, and stone from the walls of the valley slid in
great flows to the quaking floor. One by one the floor beneath the
stone crypts gave way, swallowing them up. Finally, whatever earth
had been left to support the valley floor crumbled away. The roofs
of untold many tunnels fell in a single, earth shattering
collapse.

As the very patch of ground that held the
wizards turned to rubble beneath them, Ether swept in and snatched
them up, pulling them safely into the sky. She deposited them
beside Lain and Ivy and landed, quickly assuming her human form.
All eyes, save Ivy's, watched as the tunnel-weakened valley floor
swallowed itself in a churning chaos of stone and snow. For minutes
the relentless crash of stone upon stone continued as more and more
vast unseen vaults caved in. Finally the deafening rumble subsided,
and there was peace.