Damon Tod shouted, “Turn them all and find my artifact!”

  “Kill them all!” screamed a well-armored man at the steps to the central building. “Repel the intruders!”

  Damon Tod raised his staff toward him. The blast of sickly green lighting obliterated the man. Molten pieces of his armor rained down all around us. The pieces of the door that survived the blast were infused with bits of glowing metal.

  We were forced against the wall to avoid being slaughtered. To their credit, the cultists kept us alive as arrows and axes smashed into the wall all around us. Shields of green energy covered our heads while the cultists returned fire with their own arrows and bolts of lightning. Around us, fallen soldiers regained their feet, eyes aglow. Damon Tod’s ranks were bolstered by the minute.

  When the last of the soldiers fell and got back up, the fort was quiet, save for the howl of the desert wind. Men, women, and undead moved to and fro, building to building. This went on for some time. Long enough for carrion to begin circling overhead.

  “We found it!” hollered a woman from the central building. She ran to Damon Tod brandishing a ring. He took it from her and nodded.

  “Well done.” He raised his staff and pointed at a spot just in front of him. Darkness spread from around the staff head, and a hole ripped open in midair. It looked like another land altogether. A portal? “Go.”

  The undead rushed forward single file through the portal. He turned to one of his underlings. “Burn this place to the ground. Leave no evidence we were here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I watched as several of his people tossed clay jars with flaming pieces of cloth trailing behind them. They shattered, engulfing buildings in flame. Phillip and I looked at each other. He shook his head. Not yet. We followed them through the portal. Well, I should say we were shoved through the portal. Phillip and I made a pretty good showing of being scared of it. Damon Tod laughed. Ultimately, he made sport of it, and we were made to go through.

  PHILLIP

  * * *

  Two guards and Damon Tod’s pet monster escorted Ulrich to a large building that had once been someone’s home. It was built into the sheer rocky cliffside that provided shade to what was once a small village. Judging from the lack of vegetation around the well and the worn path to it, I would guess it was functional. The smaller houses were old and in disrepair.

  The guard shoved me forward toward one of the run-down homes. I hesitated, and he shoved me forward. I spun and pulled the dagger from his waist, driving it into his heart. The guard collapsed as I pulled out the knife. I dove into the doorway of the shack. I had just sliced the thick rope that bound my wrists when I heard the inevitable shout from outside.

  “The prisoner escaped!” yelled a woman.

  “Find him!” bellowed Damon Tod. “Search every building. He cannot have gotten far.”

  I made a break for it the moment the guards entered the first shack farthest from me. The cliffside seemed like the quickest way to escape, and the drop was something I should be able to survive.

  I didn’t see the archer at the cliffside until I was nearly on top of her. She loosed her arrow point-blank. A blossom of pain erupted from my shoulder as the arrow slammed into me. Her eyes grew wide as she realized I would run right through her. Before she could react, I drove the dagger through her throat and slammed into her with my good shoulder. We both went over the cliffside.

  The drop was only about twice my height, but it felt like an eternity before we hit the ground. We landed on our sides, thankfully missing the arrow. I pulled the dagger free of the archer’s throat and made a run for it. Behind me, I heard lightning and more arrows hitting the ground. I tried to dodge left and right as I ran and managed to avoid being hit.

  I ran for the better part of thirty minutes. The more I ran, the more the arrow wound hurt. When I could not take it any longer, I stopped. I found a small piece of wood nearby and bit it. Using the dagger, I widened the wound. The wood between my teeth cracked several times. I braced myself, took a deep breath, and yanked the arrow free of my shoulder. My muted screams echoed across the landscape.

  When I was able to breathe again, I looked at the arrowhead. It was coated with a sticky black substance. The wound was still burning as if someone had poured fire into it. I looked down at the message blinking at the bottom of my vision.

  Status: You have been poisoned!

  Debuff: Poison of Black Death - Incurable.

  TIME REMAINING: 21H 51M

  * * *

  I exhaled. “Well, fuck me.”

  I removed my shirt and cut it into strips. I tied the strips, save for one, into a long ribbon. I wadded up the strip I had set aside and pressed it against the wound while wrapping the ribbon around and under my shoulder. At least that should slow the bleeding.

  Honestly, I don’t have many options at this point. I can sit here and die, or I can go back and save Ulrich. And die. Either way, I’m screwed.

  Some time had passed as I stared off into nothingness. When the sun dipped below the horizon, I headed back to the abandoned village.

  Ahead, torchlight flickered. I made my way around the back of one of the buildings. After the cultists patrolled past, I slipped inside of the wagon with all the supplies. I grinned.

  I found Ulrich’s armor in a large burlap sack. I snagged it and tossed it over my shoulder. I was about to leave the wagon when I noticed a wooden chest with a padlock on it. I set the sack down and grabbed a nearby blanket. A quick peek out of the wagon showed no patrols nearby. I covered the padlock with the blanket and used the pommel of the dagger to smash the lock. I waited to make sure no alarm was raised.

  Satisfied, I opened the chest. My jaw dropped. I was looking at the necklace Damon Tod had used on Belandra. The same one that amplified her power. I held the necklace in my hand and felt it pulsing with power. The tingling sensation traveled up my arm and began to spread throughout my entire body. I looked down at the poison timer. I had about twelve hours before I died. An idea struck me. I put on the necklace, grabbed several chunks of dried meat, and tossed them into the sack with Ulrich’s armor.

  I snuck back out of the supply stores and over the cliffside without being noticed. When I reached the bottom, I found a crevice in the cliffside where I could hide and let the necklace charge my energy. My stomach growled. I grabbed one of the hunks of dried meat and ate in silence. When I was done eating, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. In a few short hours, it would be over. Ulrich would be free. That is now my mission in life.

  ULRICH

  * * *

  The door to my cell opened and closed quickly. I looked up. Phillip stood just inside the doorway. He had a grin plastered to his face, and he held a heavy burlap sack.

  “Gotcha something,” he said. He dropped the sack on the floor. It made a metallic clanking sound. “For later.”

  “Is all that commotion something you caused?” I asked.

  “Maybe,” he said, grinning.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I found a way to get you out of here,” he said.

  “How?” I asked. “And don’t you mean us?”

  He waved me off. “Remember when that cultist blew herself up to get into that building?”

  “Yeah?” I said.

  He grinned. “I’m fairly sure I figured out how she did it.”

  “You can’t be serious,” I said. “You wouldn’t survive it.”

  He gestured to a wound on his shoulder. “The poison inside me is going to kill me no matter what I do.” He grinned. “If I’m going to die anyway, I might as well free your arse before the curtain falls.”

  “Phillip!” I yelled. “Don’t you dare!”

  “I’m sorry, Ulrich. It’s the only way.” He stopped for a moment. “I’d rather die on my terms anyhow.”

  I watched, helpless, as Phillip gathered power into himself. I tried to sit up, but the chains that bound me kept me on the bed. He screamed when the anti-magic circle wracked his body with pain in an attempt to stop him. He struggled but overcame the pain, and his muscles bulged immensely. His eyes opened and flared a brilliant white. “When you wake up, head east.” His voice crackled with raw power. “I heard them talking about a trading village a few days’ travel away.”

  “What do you mean when I wake up?” I demanded. “Phillip. Listen to me. There has to be another way.”

  “It’ll all make sense soon. I promise.” Phillip smiled. “Farewell, old friend.” Before I could say anything else, he blurred toward me. His fist impacted my temple. Everything went dark.

  11

  Cristof

  The scimitar swing went wide and missed me, but Oswald wasn’t as lucky. The blade nailed him in the side. He screamed and hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

  “No!” I blasted the brute in the face with a fireball. The force of it slammed him into the wall. It dazed him for a moment, but he shook his head and hefted the scimitar once more. Oswald was hurt badly. He clutched his side to keep the blood from flowing freely. The other two grunts were dead. Only the big one remained. And Oswald didn’t have long. I quickly reanimated the two grunts and sent them to fight their former friend. He slammed them away from him and charged toward me.

  With little choice, I willed the bloodmist into a spell I’d hoped never to have to use. Life Steal. I focused it on the brute and channeled his health into Oswald. It staggered the brute. He swung the scimitar, and I ducked. He grunted and jumped away from me as he realized I was causing him quite a bit of discomfort. My thralls grabbed him by each arm and pinned him to the wall. The Life Steal spell wasn’t directing enough lifeforce to Oswald, and he was running out of time. Fast.

  “More!” I screamed, pulling harder on his life force. I pulled and pulled. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, voices that normally would be blocked out started whispering. Offering suggestions. Offering power.

  Ability Unlocked!

  You have learned a new ability: Life Siphon - Upgrade 1!

  Pull a large quantity of lifeforce out of your target and redirect it to yourself or an ally.

  You have learned a new ability: Soul Siphon - Upgrade 2!

  Tear at the very essence of your target and redirect it to yourself or an ally.

  I won’t argue with that. I focused on the feeling of the first of the new skills and triggered Life Siphon. The brute let go of his scimitar, dropped to his knees, still held by my thralls. He screamed in utter agony. I redirected the stolen life force into Oswald. I watched as his wounds slowly closed. I kept pulling until there was nothing left. The voices in my head receded, satisfied.

  I looked down at Oswald. He was unconscious, but he wasn’t in immediate danger. But what price had I just paid? My mind touched that dark place that no sane person should ever touch. And I had fed it.

  From somewhere above us, a man yelled, “Combatants, are you ready?” Tensions in the air grew thick. “Begin!”

  The two men ran at each other with no weapons. One man jumped through the air, his leg extended. Flint rolled out of the way.

  When the man landed, Flint punched him across the jaw. He blocked the second and third follow-ups, but a quick hook dazed him.

  The two traded blows for several more minutes. He slammed Flint in the temple, but it didn’t seem to slow him at all. Even disoriented, he swept his foot out to trip the other man. He jumped back out of Flint’s reach.

  Flint smiled, blood running freely from his nose. “Not bad, not bad at all,” he said. “I see you been learning some new moves.” He pulled out his daggers. The other man reached for his swords. “Playtime’s over.”

  For a few tense minutes, they traded blows, swords on daggers. Their attacks began to slow as they tired. Each of them tried to gain an advantage, but they were too evenly matched.

  There was a burst of lightning from the man, and he vanished. A surge of necromantic energy pulsed through the air. Flint’s hand flashed upward, anda loud clang reverberated off the stone walls. He appeared from thin air, his sword against Flint’s dagger. The crowd of onlookers gasped.

  “He’s as fast as Aba!” yelled out the mage. His jaw dropped, and his eyes widened. The crowd gasped.

  Aba? This must be Abalonious…

  Flint and Abalonious stood fifteen feet apart, facing each other, blades at the ready. He stared down Flint, eyes locked with his. Then Damon Tod appeared behind Abalonious.

  Flint’s eyes grew wide. Everyone around gasped and screamed. Abalonious must have sensed him and turned toward him.

  Damon Tod thrusted a dagger at Abalonious’s stomach. Plates of glowing blue energy flashed an angry red and exploded away from the impact. Abalonious looked down. He frowned in confusion at the knife in his gut. He slowly looked up into Damon Tod’s grinning face.

  Damon Tod laughed, twisting the blade. “You’re already dead,” he said, inches from his face. “You just haven’t realized it yet. Your body will soon give out on you, and then you will die. Slowly. Painfully. Alone.” Damon Tod slowly pulled out the blade.

  Abalonious dropped his swords as his legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground. The blade must be poisoned.

  “I’m still alive, asshole,” grunted Abalonious as he struggled to his feet. “And I’m very much not alone.” He began to glow again as he willed power into his body. “As long as I draw breath, I swear I will destroy you.”

  Wow…this guy is something else.

  Damon Tod laughed. “Tell me, Abalonious. What is more powerful than royal blood?”

  Abalonious said nothing. I could tell he was still gathering his willpower.

  “The blood of the Sword Bearer. You shall make a fine thrall. With your body as my weapon, I shall rule over all of Tempest.”

  Abalonious smiled. “No. You won’t get my body. If I die here, my body will be destroyed. If I don’t die here, you’ll be destroyed.” He laughed. His face tightened from the pain. He looked him in the eyes. “You’ll end up with nothing regardless of which way this plays out. You tipped your hand about the prince.” He pointed at Lord Monroe. He was furious.

  Damon Tod frowned. “I see,” he sneered. “Then I suppose it will have to be enough to kill you and have you out of my way for good.” He pulled a staff from within his robes.

  Abalonious’s eyes widened and his body tensed.

  “You recognize it, don’t you?” He waited for Abalonious to reply. When he didn’t, he kept speaking. “The Staff of a Thousand Souls. Can you not hear their beautiful anguish as they scream out in torment?” He grinned, waving the staff in a semicircle around him.

  I felt the power surge around the area as crimson energy poured out of the staff and into the ground. Undead began to claw their way out of the dirt.

  All chaos broke loose at once. Monroe’s guards drew weapons and joined the fray, side by side with Abalonious’s party. They had a common enemy and were trying not to let the undead spread too far. I reached out and severed the connection to the staff with as many as I could. It wasn’t enough.

  The Dwarf swung his giant hammer and banished the undead. Damon Tod roared in frustration and charged at Abalonious. Red flames engulfed him, and he grew in size with some sort of strength spell.

  Abalonious’s strength spell flared again, and he began to grow as Damon Tod rushed him. He punched at the necromancer and missed. The impact of his huge fist shattered an eight-foot-wide stone column.

  The big man joined the fight. Abalonious jumped forward, landing in his path. He backhanded him across the arena, smashing him into the wall. The big man didn’t get back up. Abalonious began to shrink. By the time he returned to normal size, he collapsed to his hands and knees.

  Damon Tod vanished and appeared in front of Abalonious. He kicked him in the face. Abalonious landed on his back. He wasn’t moving. Damon Tod walked to Abalonious. “I am really going to enjoy this,” he looked down at him with a mixture of pure mirth and ecstasy. “Now…you die.”

  Flint drove a dagger through Damon Tod’s back. He convulsed for a moment and let out a wet-sounding gasp. The tip of the blade exploded through his chest and was quickly retracted. Blood oozed from the wound. Flint wrenched the staff free of Damon Tod’s hands and used blood magic to jump backward quickly. There was a surge of magic in the air that I could literally taste. Beams of magic and energy converged on Damon Tod’s body.

  The mage channeled a wide beam of arcane energy that intertwined with the assassin’s lightning and the half-Orcs strange energy. Across from them, The Dwarf’s holy energy swirled with the vampire’s power, clashing and mixing. The centurion captain protected Lord Monroe from a group of undead.

  Damon Tod casted a shield of necromantic energy in a bubble around himself, nullifying their combined attacks.

  I willed blood into a cloud all around myself, then focused it into one huge attack. Either this would work, or Oswald and I would be goners. I reached toward the shield and unraveled it one magical construct at a time.

  When his magic was finally severed, the shield collapsed with an ear-shattering boom that was promptly replaced by an anguished scream. I pulled with everything I had. Damon Tod writhed in pain. I channeled my rage and anger over the death of my mother and ripped at Damon Tod’s soul, shattering it. A pillar of ash collapsed where Damon Tod once stood.

  The feedback from all of his life energy slammed into me like a runaway wagon. I redirected as much as I could into a healing spell directed at Oswald, Abalonious, and myself, but there was too much. I could not control it.

  The big man who had stood to the side moved closer. His eyes flared crimson, and he shrieked. The blast of sound stunned everyone. Damon Tod’s energy started to push out at my seams.

  Flint approached Abalonious. “Hey, bro, nothing personal, you’re just in the way. I’ll let you live as thanks for keeping Damon Tod occupied. Next time I see you though—”