As the boulder was wreaking havoc, Tex lifted all the other stones high into the air above the Skrillings.

  Then he pushed them as hard as he could, sending them speeding back to the ground.

  The bottom of the hill looked like an apocalyptic battle scene.

  Mangled Skrillings were strewn about and piled on top of one another as scores of others jumped over the fallen and continued running up the beach.

  The archers continued shooting relentlessly. Several young boys ran among the ranks, carrying fresh arrows and making sure nobody ran out.

  Everyone had practiced the drill so intensively over the preceding week that it had become reflexive.

  As soon as the smaller stones had all plummeted back to the ground, Tex got a hold of them again and repeated the same attack.

  Unfortunately, the boulder was too heavy to lift into the air.

  “Yes!” Broden yelled at the archers. “We’re making them suffer! Don’t slow down!”

  Everything was working as planned — so far.

  The palisade wall had forced the Skrillings to approach on a relatively narrow plain. And they had to come up a hill, going through heavy long-range attacks before reaching the village.

  That should have given Tex’s side the advantage.

  And it did.

  But one question troubled Tex’s mind and opened a pit in his stomach.

  Where is Kdar Tol?

  It shouldn’t be this easy. Maybe this was like their previous battle: it seemed like a resounding victory, but it wasn’t quite what it appeared to be.

  The fact that there was no sign of the Necromancer was troubling. He glanced back at Emi and Grendel. They were still standing by the Solis totem.

  Tex had made them promise to run and shelter in their hut if the Skrillings made it near the top of the hill and the battle moved to close-range combat.

  But the two girls showed no sign of leaving just yet. They stood there, holding their bows, their eyes bright. Apparently, the soaring morale of the archers was rubbing off on them.

  By the time some Skrillings began making it to the top of the hill, their side had suffered heavy casualties. But they still outnumbered the Aramantha.

  There were just too many of them.

  The first Skrillings over the top of the hill got arrows in their necks. But more and more came, and soon the archers put away their bows and took up spears, daggers, and clubs.

  Tex turned to Emi and Grendel.

  “Get to the hut!” he roared.

  They gave him a startled look and then ran away through the village. Tex watched them disappear into what he hoped was relative safety.

  Then he launched himself high into the air and soared over the Skrilling ranks. His initial intention was to land behind them and launch an attack from the rear.

  But he glanced out towards the Skrilling fleet. Was Kdar Tol there in the ships, biding his time?

  He pushed again and flew towards the water; he knew he’d still be able to fly if he stayed over the shallows.

  It took some concentration, but he managed to gather stones as he floated over the beach. He lifted them into the air and kept them hovering around him as floated over the fleet.

  The boats were empty. All of them.

  Not a single Skrilling remained, and there was still no sign of Kdar Tol.

  This was extremely troubling. If he wasn’t there, where the hell was he?

  Tex turned around and flew back towards the battle, planning to attack from the rear.

  That was when he saw something that made his heart jump into his throat.

  Billows of smoke, rising over the village.

  He almost dropped the stones, but he got hold of them again and carried them along with him as he shot over the battle, past the totem pole.

  As he flew past the longhouse, and the inner village came into view, he saw flames lapping the air.

  In the distance, he heard the hellhound barking.

  Flying closer, he saw Skrillings striding about with torches. How did they get in?

  Pushing on the stones, he made them rain down, taking out two of the Skrillings. Then he swooped to the ground.

  As soon as he landed, he felt the temperature plummet. The icy air bit his skin, and he could see his breath.

  Then he sensed something creeping behind him.

  Turning, he saw a towering figure with black, metallic armor glinting in the red light of the flames.

  The spiky mask. The horns jutting above the glistening helmet. It was demonic.

  The Necromancer of Darkoveld.

  Kdar Tol.

  I didn’t realize how big this fucker is.

  The Necromancer looked massive. Perhaps more surprising, he held a sword, its broad metal blade shining brightly.

  This was a jarring sight — it felt almost as anachronistic as Tex’s rifle. Kdar Tol pointed the sword at one of the huts. A crack of blue lightning shot from the sword, setting fire to the hut.

  In the distance, at the end of the village, Tex could see that the palisade gate stood ajar, and two guards lay dead.

  They’d been the only ones stationed there; Tex had decided to concentrate almost all of their resources on the hill, since they were so heavily outnumbered.

  It seemed that someone from Kdar Tol’s side — perhaps Tol himself — had opened the gate from the inside.

  How he got in was a complete mystery.

  The hellhound stood by the hole to the Underworld, barking unhappily.

  Tex found rocks nearby — the ones he’d used a moment before. He lifted them into the air and sent them hurtling towards Kdar Tol.

  But The Necromancer slashed the air with his sword, sending a pulse of blue light. The stones slowed down, as if traveling through a heavy aether.

  Some of them fell harmlessly to the ground. A couple of others bashed against Tol’s armor, but he didn’t seem to notice. Tex expected a counterattack, so he launched into the air.

  Not fast enough.

  Lightning flashed. A horrific jolt blasted through his body. He crashed onto the ground.

  Forcing his eyes open, he saw the feet of Skrillings running past him. The fiery light of their torches flickered on the ground.

  They barely gave him a glance. Apparently, with Kdar Tol there, they considered Tex to be no more threatening than a cockroach.

  Making matters worse, scores more Skrillings came pouring in from the front gate. Tex recognized them as the groups he’d previously battled in the fields.

  They scrambled past the hellhound with panic on their faces, but Jeff only snarled and snapped his jaws at them.

  Was he frightened of Kdar Tol, too? Or maybe it was because he would have been overstepping a boundary if he were to get involved directly.

  Either way, Tex was going to have to deal with the Skrillings first. They carried torches and, judging by the rabid look in their eyes, they seemed rather inclined towards pillaging and raping.

  Before Tex could fully get back on his feet, another jolt blasted him. He heard the electricity crackling. He smelled his hair burning.

  Writhing in pain, he opened his eyes and saw the black boots walking towards him. The long, black cape billowing behind them.

  He felt alone. More alone than ever before.

  And so he was. Because if he couldn’t defeat Kdar Tol, no one could. There was only one Prophesied Hero. Everything rested on his shoulders.

  But the power difference between Tex and Tol was abundantly clear. It was like he’d used a cheat code to go to the last level … but he had no code to beat the final boss.

  Tex pushed himself up and glanced at the Necromancer, who was slowly walking towards him, clearly in no rush.

  He seemed like a giant. A phantasm from a child’s worst nightmares. The spiky mask made it look like a machine walking towards him. Silent, robotic.

  Did it even speak? Was there anything left of the enlightened Sundvarr elf that Kdar Tol had once been? Or had he degenerated into a monster devoid of thought and conscience?

  What was behind that mask?

  Tex lurched to his feet and faced Kdar Tol. The Necromancer simply stood with his sword at his side.

  Tex’s hands twitched, wanting to reach for his rifle.

  Fuck! He thought. Forget the rifle. It’s gone.

  But he just couldn’t help it; using a rifle had become instinctive for him.

  And that rifle, in particular, had almost become a part of him. He’d always taken it with him in the bush, and it had saved him from a couple of potentially lethal animal encounters.

  Cursing, Tex whipped out a throwing dagger and flung it, giving it a push while he tossed his rock into the air.

  Kdar Tol did not raise his sword as the knife and rock hurtled towards him. He didn’t even flinch when the dagger clanged off his helmet.

  The rock immediately followed, bashing into his chest armor. Again, Kdar Tol barely seemed to notice.

  I think this fucker’s trying to flex; show me I’m weak compared to him.

  Tex pushed off the ground, soaring upwards and back in anticipation of whatever attack was coming. The Necromancer raised his sword.

  Lightning flashed.

  Tex lost control of his flight path. Pain pierced every part of his body. Like a bird shot down mid-flight, he went spinning towards the ground, crashing through the grass roof of an armory hut.

  He painfully forced himself up, shaking off broken splinters and chunks of wood.

  Then he charged outside, at the same time sending feelers out for nearby rocks.

  But Kdar Tol was already there, standing motionless.

  Tex recoiled. How does he get around so fast when he always moves at the same slow pace? He was like goddamn Michael Myers from the Halloween movies.

  Tex’s only option, at the moment, was to flee. If he kept fighting like this, he wouldn’t last much longer.

  I just need a second to think.

  He pushed off the ground as hard as he could, shooting into the air like a rocket.

  But there was another flash of lightning, more blinding than before.

  Once again, excruciating pain cut through Tex’s body.

  The world spun and spun, seemingly endlessly, and the intense, raw electricity pulsed through him until he plunged through a thatched roof and smashed onto the cold dirt floor.

  For a moment, all he knew was pain, and all he saw was darkness.

  The overwhelming desire to rest consumed him.

  But the cries of women brought him back to his senses. He knew he must get up, because Kdar Tol was coming to finish him.

  Chapter sixty-four

  TEX PUSHED AGAINST the chunks of thatch roofing and wood that were piled on top of him.

  “Lord Tex!” cried a muffled voice. It was Steelfarr.

  No! Tex thought wearily. I need him on the hill.

  Light broke through, and Tex saw Steelfarr and another young man, whom he didn’t recognize at first, pushing debris away.

  A woman was crying somewhere.

  Tex stumbled to his feet. “Gotta get back out there…” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Just … need time to think.”

  “Lord Tex,” Steelfarr began.

  “Get back to the hill,” Tex said, staggering towards the door. “I need you to hold our position there.”

  He saw the crying woman standing in the corner with her arms around her young daughter. They were not Rama. Members of Golin’s tribe, perhaps.

  Tex staggered to the doorway, but Steelfarr called urgently.

  “Lord Tex, wait! Garock has something for you — it might help.”

  Tex turned and glanced at the other man. He recognized him as part of the group that Yarolk used to lead — a quiet fellow who mostly kept to himself.

  He held a small item against his chest, secretively, covetously.

  “I— I have this,” he said, reaching out his fist. “Please take it!”

  Tex opened his hand, and a gold-colored metal object fell into his palm.

  A shell casing.

  Tex remembered his first encounter with the bachelors. How some of them gazed in wonder at the spent shell casings.

  He closed his fist around it: the feel of it was so familiar, even its cool temperature … It instantly evoked a vivid memory of his rifle.

  He still remembered every little detail of the rifle. He’d taken it apart and put it back together so many times.

  It had actually belonged to his boss, Broderick, the old trapper who owned Tundra Lodge Wilderness Tours.

  But Broderick had acknowledged that the rifle was Tex’s baby. He had other, older rifles that nobody else was allowed to touch.

  The moment probably only lasted only a few seconds, but a succession of memories flashed through Tex’s mind — hunting with the rifle, cleaning it, storing it.

  Even the feel of it in his hands. The way it kicked when he pulled the trigger. Its particular scent.

  For one tantalizing moment, it felt as if he had his weapon back.

  But the illusion evaporated.

  “Get back to the hill,” Tex said, stepping through the door and dropping the shell casing into the pouch inside his animal skin.

  Tex felt the icy bite of sub-freezing air as he stepped outside. It was suddenly much darker, too. A spirit of dread hung over everything.

  He glanced around, searching for the Necromancer. He’d expected him to be right there. But he only saw huts standing in the gloom, thick smoke billowing, women running and screaming.

  Over at the hill, the din of battle still carried on. At least they were keeping most of the Skrillings from entering the village.

  Emi and Grendel would be sheltering in the hut. It was in a choice spot, at the top of a slight hill among trees. He could see its rooftop from where he was standing.

  A jolt of anxiety hit Tex in the gut. Had the Skrillings got to that part of the village?

  Tex could see no flames or smoke coming from that area.

  He cast his mind around for rocks, but he was fully aware of the futility of that method. A Nerf gun would inflict the same damage.

  There you go thinking about guns again.

  He thought about shell casing. He could feel it in his pocket, pressing against his hip as if to mock him.

  It was a tangible reminder of his rifle — a piece of it, almost. It made him feel like the rifle was so close he could touch it.

  Then there was the Imaginatum Stone. I wonder if it’s pulsing again …

  He quickly stretched out his animal skin and peered into the pocket. The stone’s blue light was pulsing, just like before.

  There it goes again! It responds to my memory of the rifle. But what is the connection?

  If only he’d obtained that stone earlier! He didn’t have time to sit around trying to figure it out now.

  No, the Dargild stones were the key. They sat in his pocket, along with the other items. They were the only things that were going to kill Kdar Tol at this point.

  Stop thinking about the stupid rifle, Tex told himself. Focus on the Dargild.

  Beyond a cluster of huts, Tex saw flames roar up to the sky. A fire was raging.

  Need to arm myself first.

  Searching with his mind, he came upon a pile of stones that had been placed nearby. He got ahold of these stones with his mind and walked swiftly past the huts, coming into view of the blaze.

  Two neighboring huts were engulfed in flames. Against that hellish backdrop, a towering dark form loomed like a colossus, its ghastly horns almost piercing the sky.

  Tex staggered, amazed.

  Was the Necromancer growing? He appeared much bigger. Whether that was an illusion or a reality did not particularly matter.

  Kdar Tol’s power was immense.

  Tex’s mind was a whirlwind. He needed a plan, asap.

  Knock him down, get his helmet off, shove the Dargild down his throat.

  That was the only way it was going to happen. Tol was shielded by magic power, but there was an organic body under that armor— perhaps a frail one, considering how old he was.

  Getting through that armor was going to be the hard part.

  In the surrounding area, Skrillings swarmed just about every hut. Some came tumbling out and fell onto the dirt, arrows sticking into their bodies.

  The women were fighting back.

  Moreover, Jeff had apparently put aside his reservations; he’d left his spot near the hole and he was charging towards the Skrillings.

  By the look on his face, it was clear he’d made up his mind to go after the Skrillings.

  This gave Tex a rush of encouragement.

  Mustering all his magical strength, he sent the stones pouring down towards the Necromancer.

  The gigantic form took a step backwards, staggering slightly as rocks smashed him and fell to the ground around his feet.

  So, he isn’t invincible!

  Tex knew a lightning bolt would shoot him down if he flew into the air, so he leapt to the side instead, rolling on the ground.

  The lightning bolt crackled through the air, just missing him. Tex stumbled to his feet. Meanwhile, Kdar Tol was still standing.

  Before Tex could make a move, something gripped him, like an invisible hand covered in spikes. It lifted him up and hurled him through the air.

  He smashed into a tree and landed in a heap.

  So much for that plan, he thought with a groan. I need an edge. More of an edge than my dirt magic provides.

  Shayla said it would take 200 years of practice before it would be any real threat to him.

  She probably wasn’t exaggerating too much.

  The Imaginatum Stone was his last hope, then.

  If he could just figure out what it was supposed to do…

  Lifting his head, he peered through the gloom. Beyond a nearby hut, he saw Kdar Tol approaching unhurriedly.

  Tex pushed himself up with great effort. His body was exhausted; it was going to be awhile before he’d be able to lift large amounts of rocks. The dirt magic was wearing him down, with meager results.

  The Necromancer raised his hand.

  Shit!

  Tex scrambled around the tree. Everything lit up with lightning, and the tree erupted in flames. Tex darted behind some ferns. He just needed to buy himself a little time.