The shaft continued to descend as Galvin trotted faster. The torches were spaced even farther apart now, leaving most of the tunnel blanketed in darkness except for the small area around the torch Galvin held. Then, somewhere below in the blackness, the druid’s mind reached out to another consciousness. But it was not a bat’s, as he had anticipated. This mind felt twisted, alien, corrupt. But the creature thought in human terms, and as Galvin became more intimate with it, the mind took on a human quality, a human intelligence. The druid tried to close the link, but the other intelligence held on to his mind.
Death to you, Harper, the consciousness spoke inside the druid’s head. Galvin grabbed at his temples, dropping the torch. Concentrating, he tried to force the presence out. Still the intelligence persisted, pulling from the druid’s thoughts his name, his history, and the reason for his intrusion into the mine.
Death to you who would spoil my finely wrought plans. Galvin buckled over in agony as the mind bored into his, seeking information about his forces, his strengths, why he had come here, what magic he possessed.
Szass Tam! the intelligence screamed, and the druid cupped his hands over his ears in a futile gesture to shut out the sound. The words were coming from inside his head. You are Szass Tam’s servant!
Galvin fought to keep the details from the intelligence, but the druid’s mind wasn’t strong enough. It seemed as if all of Galvin’s being was flowing from him, his experiences, knowledge, emotions—all were being assimilated by the probing mind. Then he felt the mind—no, minds—coming closer. And he heard the flutter of wings even more clearly.
Deep in the bowels of the mine, Maligor screamed. How had Szass Tam found out about the mine? How had the lich managed to bring an accursed Harper under his control?
Maligor’s mind whirled. He wouldn’t be able to covertly control the mines now; the lich would see to that. Nor could he confront the lich, as Szass Tam avoided direct involvement.
“I will not be undone by a dead man!” Maligor bellowed, his voice bouncing off the walls of the deep chamber. “If I cannot have the mines, no one will!” The Red Wizard’s staccato voice repeated a simple enchantment, and before the words could echo back from the chamber’s shadow-cloaked walls, the wizard was gone. His form, replaced by a small cloud of white, swirling vapors, floated up a narrow shaft.
I will turn your forces to ashes, the cloud thought as it moved along the shaft’s rocky ceiling. “I will destroy your army, Szass Tam. I will make you regret your treachery.”
Brenna reached the druid’s side and knelt beside him. His palms were pushed against the sides of his head, and his teeth were clenched in pain. She tugged his hands away from his face, and their eyes met.
“What—what happened?” she asked, glancing behind her at Wynter. The centaur waved the undead to a stop.
“I—I don’t know,” the druid gasped. “But there’s something ahead. Something …”
Then Brenna and Wynter heard the rush of wings, too, and smelled an overpowering stench. The tunnel ahead gave way to blackness as the flying creatures buffeted the torches out and filled the shaft with their misshapen bodies. The creatures’ horrid shrieks filled the shaft, echoing off the walls.
“Darkenbeasts!” Brenna cried, as she saw a myriad of burning red eyes rapidly closing on them. She jumped to her feet, pulling the druid along with her.
In one fluid motion, Galvin drew his longsword and strode forward. Swinging fiercely at the air in front of him, he connected with the lead darkenbeast, slicing halfway through its grotesque neck. Its dead body thudded at his feet, but another creature flew forward to take its place.
The beast’s talons stretched toward Galvin’s eyes, and the Harper bent his arm across his face to shield them. The gesture allowed a pair of darkenbeasts to fly past him toward the sorceress and Wynter.
The enchantress flattened herself against a tunnel wall, narrowly avoiding a sharp beak. Fumbling through the small bag at her side, she drew out a pinch of coarse powder. Hoping she had found the correct components in the darkness, she began mumbling a series of incoherent-sounding words.
At the same time, Wynter charged forward. Using his bardiche, he skewered one of the darkenbeasts against the ceiling. A second creature closed on him, its beak sinking into his left shoulder. Dropping his weapon, Wynter reached out with his bare hands to capture his arcane attacker, bashing the beast’s head against the mine wall. The centaur continued beating the creature until it ceased to move.
Finished with her incantation, Brenna stirred the powder in her hand, then held her palm toward the ceiling. A gout of flame whooshed from her hand and danced along a portion of the ceiling beyond Galvin, catching several darkenbeasts hovering there and lighting up the tunnel. The macabre creatures’ wings caught fire, and they cried out in agony.
The Harpers and Brenna ducked, and the burning darkenbeasts flew beyond them, into the waiting grasp of the skeletons and zombies. The rotting flesh and tattered clothes of the zombies burst into flame on contact with the darkenbeasts. Impervious to pain, the zombies struggled with the winged creatures, tearing them apart and dashing their misshapen heads against the tunnel walls.
The darkenbeasts’ beaks and claws were wasted on the skeletons, who latched onto the creatures and began pulling at their leathery limbs until no life remained in Maligor’s constructs.
At the forefront of the struggle, Galvin continued to slice through the darkenbeasts, suffering numerous minor injuries and scratches in the process. Behind him, he saw Wynter catch one of the loathsome creatures and hurl it to the shaft floor, trampling it beneath his hooves.
In the dark tunnel below, Galvin saw more darkenbeasts, hovering in the shaft, waiting for a chance to join in the fight. The druid realized the numbers eventually would overwhelm the three of them, although the undead could likely hold their own against the creatures.
Edging backward in the shaft, closer to the centaur, Galvin split the nearest darkenbeast nearly in two with his sword, then ducked and pulled his longsword free as another creature dove at him. The centaur reached above the druid’s head, smashing his large fist into the creature’s side and sending it careening wildly against the shaft wall. It crumpled and flapped feebly, trying to rise.
“Head for the crosscut!” Galvin shouted, barely able to be heard above the sounds of the darkenbeasts’ wings and the skeletons’ clanking bones. “Hurry!”
Brenna inched her way along the shaft wall and darted into the side tunnel. Wynter fought his way through a half-dozen of the darkenbeasts before he could join her. The centaur squinted to catch some sign of Galvin in the mass of flailing bones and leathery wings.
“How many are there?” the enchantress whispered, staring wide-eyed at the cloud of darkenbeasts.
“Hundreds,” the centaur guessed. “There are more down the shaft. Galvin’s somewhere out there in the middle of them.”
Then suddenly the druid hurled himself through an opening in the wall of skeletons and dove into the side tunnel. Wheezing, he sheathed his longsword and moved deeper into the tunnel.
“We’ll follow this passage,” he said in a hushed tone. “Maybe it will lead back to the main shaft and we can come at the darkenbeasts from behind.”
“And if it doesn’t?” The centaur seemed skeptical.
“Then we’ll try another tunnel.” The druid felt his way along the crosscut, then spied the light of a torch ahead. “We don’t have much chance back there,” he said, pointing toward the sounds of battle. “The undead are better able to deal with those creatures, anyway. We need to find Maligor.”
Ahead, the torch illuminated barrels and buckets lined against the shaft wall, filled with ore. Several picks lay on top of the largest barrel. Wynter examined them and selected the sharpest pick. The centaur, who could not move quickly in the confined tunnel, feared the darkenbeasts would find them, and he didn’t want to fight them barehanded again.