He nodded at Brenden, who simultaneously held the torch and gripped Chap by the scruff of the neck.
"Let go of Chap and pull the lid open," Leesil said.
Brenden moved to do as he was bid, but before his hand touched wood, the coffin lid's upper half exploded as Ratboy smashed his way out. Startled, Leesil lost his aim and stepped back.
The beggar boy grabbed Brenden's wrist and jerked, hard. The blacksmith stumbled off balance and fell across the bottom half of the coffin, blocking Leesil's line of fire. Chap was forced back as Brenden fell, and the torch in the blacksmith's hand tumbled to the ground. Its light partially blocked by the coffin, shadows leaped upward along the walls in front of Leesil.
Between the sudden shift in light and Brenden's falling body, Leesil lost clear aim at his target. Ratboy curled backward, feet thrusting up above his head as he flipped himself over the coffin's back end. He landed, sitting on the ground.
Leesil tried to set his aim again, but Ratboy kicked out with both feet against the coffin's near end. It slid sharply across the floor, slamming bottom end first into Leesil's legs.
Leesil tried to catch himself with one hand as he fell, and toppled on his side. With the lid's top half shattered, his torso dropped inside the coffin. His clothing snagged on shards of wood, and Ratboy was above him before he could twist over and right himself.
Leesil glimpsed a shadowed and filthy alabaster face with round, red-tinged eyes and openmouthed grin. The teeth, with fangs jutting top and bottom, were yellow. Leesil twisted and ducked his head at a flash of movement.
A clawlike hand slashed down, missing his throat. It caught him across the cheek and mouth. Leesil felt his own blood spatter across his face before feeling the pain.
"No one will recognize your corpse," Ratboy hissed.
Leesil closed his hands to grip the crossbow, but it was gone-he'd dropped it when he fell. Ratboy's hand flashed up again, and Leesil flinched, one arm raised to shield his head, while grasping at his belt for a stake or stiletto or whatever weapon he could find first.
The face and hand disappeared in a silver-gray flash.
Leesil thrashed his way out of the coffin, rolling over its side, and almost falling on the crossbow he'd dropped upon the ground.
"Shoot!" Brenden shouted, now pulling himself up, a trickle of blood running from a gash in his forehead. "Shoot him."
Leesil rolled again into a crouch, with the crossbow at ready, and saw Chap on top of Ratboy. Dog and undead were locked in a thrashing tangle of teeth, limbs, claws, and snarls that moved so quickly Leesil couldn't follow all of it. Chap's fangs snapped and connected over and over, and though Ratboy could not return the same, his claw-hands battered at the dog. Tufts of fur were ripped from Chap's body.
"I can't. I'll hit Chap," Leesil answered through gritted teeth.
"Fool!" Brenden spit out. He snatched up the torch and flung it skittering across the ground at Ratboy.
"No, don't…" Leesil began. He barely had time to see the torch hit Ratboy in the hip. Both dog and undead struggled to get away from the flame.
Out of the corner of his eye, Leesil saw the huge nobleman backing Magiere toward the tunnel opening, the two combatants swinging their blades at each other. Magiere chopped her opponent's sword to the ground and struck his wounded shoulder with her stake. The nobleman spun away along the cave wall, and Magiere pivoted back into the open. Both their faces were distorted with hatred beyond sanity, each having forgotten the existence of anything but the other. Magiere's own features twisted in a silent snarl of exposed fangs as she drew up her falchion to cut the nobleman down.
Leesil started to turn his attention back to his own opponent when a flash of red rushed toward Magiere from behind.
A woman. Brenden had been right.
A mass of brown hair and a red dress enveloped Magiere as the woman leaped upon her back, arms wrapping around Magiere's shoulders and neck. The woman screamed as she began to smoke, burned by the garlic water. Magiere slammed her left elbow back into the woman's side, then, half turning, struck her in the face with her falchion's hilt. The woman toppled backward to the cave floor, and as she fell, Magiere slashed down once with the falchion.
The action cost Magiere the advantage. The nobleman regained his footing and raised his long sword to strike.
Everything else dropped from Leesil's awareness.
He raised the crossbow and fired.
Monster.
The word echoed over and over in Magiere's mind as she slashed and charged and dodged the tall creature in front of her. She was vaguely aware of his physical appearance, his short black hair and clear eyes.
Rashed. She knew that his name was Rashed. The name simply appeared in her mind, but she did not understand how. As her rage and strength increased and her jaw began to hurt, she recognized flashes of images from his mind.
He saw her as a killer, an invader. But she knew what he was.
Monster, she thought again, raising the falchion to strike.
His name didn't matter. His head sliced from his shoulders-that mattered. She was strong, so strong… and fast. Her mouth ached, and she couldn't speak.
A shriek sounded in her ears and weight collided with her back and shoulders. Strong, thin arms wrapped around her neck as the wailing voice in her ears turned to a pain-filled scream. Smoke rose around her head, obscuring her vision.
Magiere thrashed backward with her elbow, connecting with a soft torso, and was answered with the pleasing sensation of bones snapping inside flesh. As the arms released, Magiere whirled and slammed her sword hilt at whoever had grabbed her, not even aware if the blow had connected. She only saw billowing red fabric obscured in trails of smoke, and chopped hard at it with the falchion. The blade connected, but she didn't stop to look at her target and turned her head.
Rashed's sword arced down at her. Magiere twisted on instinct, trying to move out of the way.
A crossbow quarrel suddenly sprouted from Rashed's stomach and the path of his blade changed slightly. It passed close by her shoulder and swept outward away from her.
Magiere felt the hate rise up in her like burning elation. She spun back, her sword arm coming up, blade arcing over her head to come down on her prey.
The monster reversed his swing before she'd finished turning.
She felt surprise more than pain as the tip flashed out of sight just below her jaw. Hate and strength spilled out of her at the dull sting in her throat. Wet warmth ran down her body inside her vestment.
Dropping to her knees, she released the stake and grasped her throat. The same warmth ran between her fingers from the side of her neck.
Rashed staggered back one step, pulled the smoking quarrel from his body, then moved forward again, his lips curled in a sneer.
Leesil dropped his gaze long enough to pull another quarrel from its holding place below the crossbow's stock. He couldn't afford to step between those two in their maddened state without being cut down by one or the other, so he readied for another shot. It might not kill the nobleman, but it could slow him enough for Magiere to take the advantage. Fitting it in place, he raised his eyes again as he pulled on the bow string.
Magiere knelt on the ground, hand to her neck. Her face was no longer twisted in rage; rather her brow wrinkled in confusion, eyes wide. Her fingers were already dark with blood.
"Chap!" Leesil screamed, not even looking to see if the dog was free of his opponent. "Chap, here, get him!"
The nobleman pulled the quarrel from his stomach much in the same manner Leesil had seen Ratboy do on the road to Miiska. Chap rushed by Leesil in a blur. The dog's feet struck the ground only twice before he closed enough to launch himself at the nobleman.