And even that course of action vanished as another of the grotesque undead came at him from behind.
“Now, this really isn’t fair!” The shadow servants, though, didn’t care about fairness. The second one reached out skeletal fingers, seeking Rapp’s topknot. The kender pulled away, wincing as a few strands of hair were torn free.
Flattening himself against the wall, Rapp again looked at the torch. A metal ring also held the torch in its niche, which meant that the odds of knocking one free with his sling were minimal. For Rapp to reach the torch, he would have had to grow another two feet.
Or …
Rapp studied the two approaching undead, trying to judge which was most suitable for his plan. While neither much appealed to him, the one to his right was positioned best. All the kender had to do was wait a second or two more … and hope his plan worked as well as it sounded to him.
One step. Another step.
His chance came at last.
The small figure suddenly charged the nearest hooded ghoul, leaping at the last moment. Caught unaware, the pale horror reacted slowly, enabling Rapp to use his adversary’s arms to climb up. As the shadow servant’s grip tightened around Rapp’s torso, the inventive kender took hold of the torch.
He gasped as thin, bony limbs tried to crush his breath from him. Rapp brought the torch down toward the drawn countenance of his foe, setting the hood on fire. The dead face revealed no shock, but the shadow servant released him and tried to put the flames out. Instead, the sleeves of his robe caught fire.
The other attacker paid little heed to his companion’s troubles, reaching again for the kender’s topknot. Rapp twisted and thrust the torch at the groping hand. The shadow servant pulled back singed fingers. Although they had some sense of self-preservation, they clearly did not feel pain, for despite the blackened appendage, the ghoul lunged forward once more.
Stepping away, Rapp nearly collided with his first adversary, who, even though his entire form was now ablaze, seemed more concerned with seizing the kender. Rapp ducked under fiery arms, then rolled past. He came up behind the burning figure and, with careful aim, kicked.
The blazing ghoul stumbled forward, falling into the arms of the other creature. Flames spread over the hands and sleeves of the second. The first tried to rise but collapsed again. This time it remained still.
With effort, the remaining ghoul abandoned the other and tried to pursue Rapp. However, the shadow servant’s steps were ragged, undirected. The hooded figure collided with one wall, then the other. Rapp used the confusion to further set the creature aflame, and in moments the second servant had turned into a fiery inferno.
Still reaching for the kender, the robed horror dropped to the floor. Flames quickly consumed what was left.
Rapp wrinkled his nose at the stench. Despite his victory, the kender felt a bit sad. These had once been men, albeit men who had died long ago. He had not killed men, only the abominations someone else had made of their corpses.
And that brought his attention back to Tyros.
A short distance down the corridor, Rapp at last came across two large doors that surely had to be the ones leading to the mage. As if to verify that, a cry from within shook the kender to his very being. He recognized Tyros’s voice and recognized also the intense agony the human suffered.
To Rapp’s surprise, the doors weren’t locked. With some caution, he pushed one open and peered inside.
The kender’s eyes widened.
Valkyn’s creation towered over Rapp, nearly touching the high ceiling of the chamber. The twin marble columns were thicker than the trunks of the mightiest trees, and upon them were etched symbols and words of magic that seemed to squirm with life of their own. Above each was positioned a huge crystal that blazed like a miniature sun.
To his surprise, Rapp discovered that he was not so fascinated by the arcane device as he was repulsed. It felt evil. Rapp had never come across anything that actually felt evil, and he would have expected such a discovery to fill him with excitement. Instead, just looking at it made the kender shiver, especially seeing what it had done to the helpless wizard chained to it.
Tyros looked haggard, his skin pale and drawn. The mage’s hair had turned partially gray. He was thinner, too, his robe hanging loose. Tyros slumped as low as his chains would allow.
The great crystals suddenly flared. Raw energy crackled between them. Tyros screamed.
A bolt of energy shot toward the ceiling, flowing through it as if the stone and wood did not exist.
The glow around the crystals subsided again. The captive mage groaned, falling forward. He looked older, more worn.
Rapp surveyed the chamber and saw that other than Tyros and himself, it was empty. The kender noted a stool near one table. Finding a place to put the torch, Rapp grabbed the stool and rushed over to the captive. Tyros looked up as he neared, and although surprise momentarily flashed in his eyes, he didn’t look at all hopeful.
“Don’t worry. I’ll set you free!”
The mage started to say something, but his words twisted suddenly into renewed screaming. The sound hurt Rapp’s ears. He couldn’t let Tyros suffer any longer. His best lockpick in hand, the kender positioned the stool, and climbed up so that he could reach the glowing manacle binding Tyros’s left wrist. The manacle looked identical to the ones that had secured Stone, which gave Rapp every confidence that he would soon have his friend released.
Tyros suddenly jerked his wrist away, at the same time blurting, “N-No!”
He screamed again, leaving the kender to stand there, frustrated. How could he help the mage if Tyros did contrary things like that? Didn’t he realize that Rapp had to work fast to rescue him?
Once more Rapp reached for the manacle, Tyros again pulled his wrist out of reach.
Confused and annoyed, the small figure glared at his friend. “Tyros, it’s me, Rapp. Stop doing that so I can get you free!”
Gritting his teeth, his eyes tearing, Tyros forced the words out: “Manacles … magic! If you touch … you’ll die!”
The mage slumped forward. Rapp stared at Tyros, then at the manacle. He had opened the ones holding the gargoyle without incident, but the mage said these were different. Valkyn must have put a potent spell on them, not wanting to take any chance of someone removing his fellow wizard.
Rapp swallowed, feeling uncommonly dismayed. If he couldn’t unlock the manacles, then how could he free Tyros? And if he couldn’t free Tyros, how could any of them hope to escape?
Chapter 16
A Prayer Answered
From the battlements of Atriun, Bakal watched the defenders and invaders maneuver themselves in preparation for the battle. He tried his best to keep his despair hidden from his captors. With Castle Atriun at full strength and no dragons to protect the city, Gwynned would surely fall. First, though, the wizard and the general wanted to make certain that no outside resistance remained. Those defenders that survived the citadel’s attack from above would be annihilated, driven into the swords of their foes.
“Many will die,” Cadrio reminded him. “The longer the battle, the more deaths. You can save a number of lives, Captain. Give us specifics on Gwynned’s strengths, and we can end this battle swiftly. Minimal losses. Men can go back to their wives and children … if they also acknowledge their new master, of course.”
The general seemed very eager for results, and from the glances the man gave the wizard, Bakal gathered that Cadrio wanted desperately to please Valkyn. However, the scarred veteran would be damned if he would help the villain do that. “There’s nothing I can tell you.”