Ryder felt Montauk flinch. The grip around his neck tightened, then dropped away, and Ryder was free. Behind Montauk, something shimmered into existence. It was a person. In the next moment, Curtis came into view. He had his hand up against Montauk. Gripping a dagger in his hands, he held the blade buried in the man's back.
Montauk let out an inhuman shriek. He was pinned like a bug by Curtis's dagger, and he thrashed about, trying desperately to get off the illusionist's blade. Then his skin began to stretch and melt. It wobbled and drooped, looking as if it would simply fall from his face and body.
Ryder got to his feet. Stumbling back, he grabbed hold of Giselle's shoulder, pulling her away from Montauk.
The new head of the Crimson Awl flailed for a moment longer. A scowl grew on his disfigured lips, and he stood up straight, shaking his fists in a triumphant gesture. There was a soft popping sound, and Montauk's melting flesh simply vanished, leaving in its place an ancient and withered visage. The creature that stood where Montauk had been seemed vaguely female. She had long, graying hair, an ornate dress, and fangs.
The creature raised her arms, and a deep shadow filled the courtyard. All fighting inside Zerith Hold came to a complete stop, and the air was filled with a collective hiss from the Crimson Awl.
"Submit now. Bow down before Shyressa," said the woman, her words echoing across the entire courtyard. With a casual flick of her wrist, she swatted Curtis away with as much effort as she would pay to a buzzing insect.
The skinny illusionist went flying, and his dagger clattered to the ground.
Ryder felt a chill wind blow in, and he shivered against it. He felt Giselle grip his arm. She was shaking. If these were to be their last moments, he was glad she was there with him.
A huge boom filled Zerith Hold as the heavy wooden doors and portcullis of the front gate exploded inward. Splinters of wood and shards of metal flew everywhere, and a huge cloud of dust and smoke erupted into the night sky.
Then a black horse and its rider appeared out of the swirling debris, trailing tendrils of smoke behind him as he rode into the courtyard, his sword drawn and raised over his head. Though Ryder had never seen him in the flesh before, he recognized the man from Erlkazar's golden coin-this was the Crusader King, King Korox.
"To the baron!" King Korox shouted.
More riders emerged from the smoke. They poured in, appearing as if by magic out of the mists. To Ryder it looked like an entire army-and then some.
The withered woman glared down at Ryder. She let out a deep, bone rattling growl.
"This is not over," she said. Then she wrapped the sleeves of her dress around her body and evaporated, leaving behind only a thin stream of translucent mist that lifted into the air and rose over the wall.
The rest of the Crimson Awl did the same, turning themselves into insubstantial clouds of gas and escaping into the night.
Chapter 28
Liam knelt beside Baron Purdun as the king lay into him.
"Of all the foolish things to do," chided Korox, "why did you have to disobey my summons?"
Lord Purdun, down on one knee, apologized. "Please forgive me, my liege, but there was no other way. Had I not been here when the vampires attacked Zerith Hold, it may have fallen." He looked up at the king. "I sent messengers, but they were intercepted."
Liam cringed.
"It was only by the might of your Magistrates that I managed to communicate with you. I have Magistrate Olivio to thank for that."
The king nodded. "Well, I want a full explanation of this matter."
"Yes, my liege," agreed Purdun. "But not now."
"What?" The king was obviously not in the mood to be told when or how things were going to be done.
"Zerith Hold was not the vampires' only target," Purdun explained. "All of Duhlnarim is under siege."
The king spun his horse. "Then get to your feet, man. We ride to their aid."
Lord Purdun jumped up. "An excellent idea, my king."
Liam got to his feet.
Lord Purdun began to issue orders. "Liam, Knoblauch, you're with me." Without a moment's hesitation, he walked across the courtyard to stand before Ryder, Giselle, and the rest of the Broken Spear.
Liam cringed again. He and his brother hadn't fully patched things up. The next few moments could destroy the delicate peace that had developed during the fighting.
The Baron of Ahlarkham looked Ryder up and down then shook his head. "I don't know what to make of you," he said of Liam's chain-covered brother.
Ryder opened his mouth as if to explain himself, but the baron cut him off.
"Captain Beetlestone," shouted Purdun over his shoulder.
Liam gripped the hilt of his long sword.
"Yes, my lord," replied Beetlestone.
The baron smiled. "Get these men horses." He looked back at Ryder. "And bring this man his weapon. We'll need all the help we can get."
Shyressa rematerialized in a graveyard just outside Furrowsrich village. The rest of her Crimson Awl minions did the same.
"Years of work," she spat. "All of that time, wasted." Shyressa couldn't remember the last time one of her plans hadn't succeeded.
"There will be retribution for this." She stalked back and forth, tapping her fingers on top of the headstones. "I will take Ahlarkham tonight, even if I have to kill everyone in it."
Lifting her arms in the air, she spoke the words to an incantation. One that she dearly loved.
The ground around her shook and roiled. Headstones turned on their sides as the earth churned and pushed up from underneath. From out of the soil crawled the dead of Duhlnarim. Bony hands clawed at the dirt as every body in the graveyard pulled itself out of its supposedly final resting place.
"This will do fine," purred Shyressa, her mood improving. "Just fine."
At the head of the Broken Spear, Ryder and Giselle raced down the road from Zerith Hold toward Furrowsrich. As they got closer, Ryder felt it had been a lifetime since he'd last seen this familiar terrain. So much had happened, but he didn't have time to think about that now.
The undead were back in Duhlnarim. His mother, his father, and Samira were in danger.
Turning down the road into Furrowsrich, Ryder's breath caught in his lungs. The place was crawling with zombies. The creatures bashed at the locked doors of the village houses. With each thump, blood-curdling screams issued out into the night.
"This way," shouted Ryder, forcing his horse off the road and into the fields behind the village.
Over rows and rows of planted vegetables, the horses rode through Furrowsrich. Leaping the low fence behind the house Ryder had built with his own hands, he came around to the front. The door was wide open, and a row of zombies was making their way inside.
Not bothering to bring his horse to a stop, Ryder threw his legs over the edge of his saddle and came down at a full run, barging into the back of the zombies and bowling them over as he came through the front door at full speed.
Ryder collided with two zombies and continued on, running them into one of the support beams holding up the roof. The heavy chains hanging from his shoulders added their weight to his momentum, and in combination, he smashed the rotting creatures to something resembling horse manure. Their decayed flesh and brittle bones made for a soft cushion, and Ryder stepped away from the stout, wooden pole unharmed.
Inside the house, half a dozen zombies had Samira, Angeline, and Douglas backed into a corner. Douglas stood in front of the two women, a burning log from the fire in one hand. He tried to hold back the walking dead, swinging the flaming timber back and forth. But it wasn't doing much good. The zombies were still advancing.