They came upon a room that seemed to serve as an antechamber to a larger complex. Several doors in the back and side walls stood open, and the party entered one to find themselves engulfed in nearly total darkness. The flames of their torches cast little more light than candles.
“I don’t recognize this area at all,” Jarial said. “We must have made a wrong t—”
“Hush!” Kestrel interrupted him. She held her breath, concentrating on a sound she heard echoing from the stillness. Rattle. Scrape. Rattle. The noise seemed to come from a room off to their right.
Rattle rattle. Scrape scrape. Rattle rattle.
“I hear it, too,” Ghleanna whispered.
Clack. Clack. Clack clack.
Corran’s hand drifted to his sword hilt, but suddenly stopped. He sucked in his breath. “It almost sounds like—”
A white shape shuffled into view, its grinning head and gangly limbs a stark contrast to the blackness beyond. Clattering erupted as a sea of others appeared behind it.
“Skeletons!” Durwyn leapt forward, swinging his battle-axe in a wide arc that shattered the skull of the nearest foe.
“At least a dozen of them,” Corran called out as two creatures armed with swords closed in on him. He left his own sword in its sheath, reaching for the warhammer on his back instead. In a single movement, he brought it around and smashed the sternum of the first skeleton. It crumpled into a pile on the ground.
The creatures were closing in fast. There had to be more than a dozen, but in the poor light Kestrel couldn’t determine where they were coming from. She grabbed her club from her belt and snapped her wrist to extend the weapon to its full length. Her daggers would do no good against a mass of walking bones with no flesh to pierce.
A sudden flare issued from Jarial’s fingertips, sending a sheet of flames shooting toward a group of skeletons. Within seconds, the blaze consumed three of them and caused two more to fall back. Distracted by the spell, Kestrel almost didn’t hear the rattling bones approaching behind her. She spun around, automatically swinging her club. The baton struck the lone skeleton hard enough to knock it off balance. She seized the advantage and struck again, knocking its weapon out of its grasp. Her third strike bashed in its skull.
She glanced back at the others. Corran had dispatched several skeletons, but for every one that fell two more surged in. Both warriors were heavily engaged now, shielding the more physically vulnerable sorcerers. As she watched, Durwyn swung his axe in a powerful arc that sent the skulls of two creatures flying at once. Their headless remains clattered into a pile at his feet. He kicked the bones aside and pressed forward to attack another foe.
A flash of steel caught her eye, alerting her just in time to an advancing opponent. Was it the flickering torchlight, or had this collection of bones yellowed with age or decay? Its sinister grin held no teeth, and cracks appeared along its clavicle and pelvis. The creature swung its sword in a jerky motion that Kestrel easily parried. She then struck the frail hipbone with all the strength she could muster. The brittle pelvis shattered.
The skeleton, now in two halves, collapsed. The fall alone sent several ribs skidding across the floor. Its legs fell still, but the creature propped its torso up on one bony hand and swung its sword with the other, trying to cut Kestrel’s legs out from under her. She jumped to avoid the sweeping weapon and landed on the weakened collarbone. It snapped under her weight. A final blow from her club kept the creature from rising again.
She had just finished off this latest foe when she saw Corran cast aside his torch. A moment later, a flash of metal in his left hand caught her attention. His holy symbol. Did he hope to repel the skeletons as he had the zombies last night? The creatures were coming at him too fast to give him a chance.
A crazy, desperate idea entered her thoughts, and she acted before she could talk herself out of it. She dove to the ground and rolled into the skeletons. The creature nearest Corran crashed to the floor. Before it could recover its feet, she swung her club and caught another skeleton in the knees. It fell on top of the first and caused a third to trip over their sprawled bones. Kestrel scrambled out of the pile. They were down but not defeated, providing Corran with only a small window of opportunity.
It was all he needed. “By all that is holy, begone!” he cried, holding Tyr’s symbol aloft.
At the paladin’s shout the skeletons nearest him retreated. At the same time, light burst from the head of Ghleanna’s staff, at last fully illuminating the room.
Nine skeletons—those Corran had repelled—circled the room’s perimeter, keeping as much distance as possible between themselves and the paladin as they attempted to reach the exits. Two more yet advanced, while the three Kestrel had felled clumsily tried to disengage themselves from each other.
The sudden brightness startled the skeletons enough to give the explorers the initiative. Kestrel easily finished off the three fallen creatures, methodically bashing each skull. Ghleanna smashed her quarterstaff through the spinal column of one of those advancing, while Durwyn arced his axe to crush another. He and the paladin then set about picking off the retreating skeletons.
A low moan behind her caused Kestrel to spin around again—and add a groan of her own to the chant as an all-too-familiar smell greeted her nostrils. “Zombies!” she called out. Five of the creatures shuffled into the chamber from the door through which the explorers had entered. She tossed her twin daggers at the first walking corpse, then reached for the blade she’d retrieved from Loren’s body. As she threw the unfamiliar weapon, it glinted in the magical light of Ghleanna’s spell. The blade struck the creature’s heart causing it to crumple to the ground. She was out of daggers—she’d have to fight off the rest of the zombies with the club.
To her amazement however, the nondescript dagger pulled itself free of the monster and flew back into her left hand. A magical dagger! She both thrilled and cringed at the discovery. A returning dagger could prove valuable, but magical weapons had been known to hold curses.
As the sounds of the skeleton battle died behind her, Corran’s voice echoed off the chamber walls again. “Trouble us no longer!” The remaining zombies ceased their advance and attempted to escape. Kestrel threw Loren’s blade at the creatures she’d already injured. No way were they shuffling off with her twin daggers stuck in them. Thanks to the weapon’s boomerang power, she felled both foes. Corran and Durwyn took care of the last two zombies.
In the aftermath, Corran removed his helm and pushed sweat-dampened hair away from his eyes. He nodded toward the dagger that had once again found its way back to Kestrel’s hand. “A magical blade. What will you call it?”
“Call it?” She wasn’t even sure she would keep it—she would certainly use it conservatively until she knew she could trust its sorcery.
“Enchanted weapons deserve their own names.”
Kestrel shrugged. “I’ve thought of it as Loren’s blade up to now. I guess I’ll continue to do so.”
“Loren’s Blade,” Corran repeated. “A good name.”
Kestrel studied the paladin as he cleaned and secured his own weapon. He might be an arrogant know-it-all, but the man knew how to fight. That little routine he did with the holy symbol was proving useful, too.