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HTN 5-41 A duel to the undeath
🕑 Added 2022-01-16 00:14:50 +0000 UTCHeather raced down the carpeted hall, passing under the moonlight that streamed in through tall windows. She tried not to hear the crashing and clattering going on in the distance and focused on finding the castle's mistress, Lydia Valrossa. It pained her to leave her friends behind, but there was no time to waste. Lydia was working a terrible ritual and needed to be stopped now. She was certain this castle would be protected like her tower was and readied for the defenses.
She wasn't surprised at all when two animated suits of armor barred her passage. They were highly decorated and ornate as fitting of the gothic style of the castle. Heather briefly thought of blinking past them to avoid the fight but changed her mind. She knew Lydia was using an interface and was probably watching, so she wanted to give the woman a good show. With scythe raised, she used dash to close the distance as the blade burst into flames. It trailed smoke as she made contact, swinging with infernal might. She was surprised at the strength the Lilithu devil gave her and smiled with pointed teeth as her scythe bit deep into the armor.
The armor she collided with toppled back as the second one swung with a relatively short sword. She easily avoided it by riding the armor to the ground and rolling off, leaving her scythe buried in the metal. With the snap of her finger, it collapsed into smoke and reformed in her open hand, ready for another attack. The fallen armor struggled to get up as its companion rushed after Heather.
She decided to play it safe and summoned plant armor to cover her soft skin. When the charging suite reached her, she put the points spent in combat to use and started slashing. As sparks began to fly, the suit slashed with one hand while punching with another. She yelped when it finally managed to clip her side with the sword but thankfully did little in the way of damage. The second suite managed to get up and moved to join the fight, but Heather already had a plan. She folded her arms, creating a shield of leaves and petals that completely blocked the hall. Both armor suites collided with the wall and came to a halt only to have it drop away as Heather cut viciously with her scythe. Fire and sparks tore across both chests, and one of the suits finally toppled, but the second one pressed on. It lashed out with an armored fist catching Heather in the shoulder, but she cut down, severing the offending arm. It fell to the floor with a clatter, leaving only the sword arm as a threat. Heather dashed to the side and swung, burying the scythe in its back, then used the weapon for leverage. As the armor tried to turn and strike her, she used the handle to steer it, driving it into a wall. She used her devil powers to create flame, pouring it through the weapon into the armor. She wasn't sure if it would affect something like this, but as she slammed it into the other wall, it finally crumbled and came to a rest.
“That was fun,” she said just to taunt the woman she knew was watching. Shouldering her scythe, she intentionally walked with confidence down the hall, wondering what waited ahead. It wasn't long before that question was answered in the most unusual way. The floor before her began to ripple, and long thin spikes reminiscent of fangs grew up. They were only inches long but provided a painful barrier to further progress.
Again she thought of blinking past the danger but decided a simpler solution could be found around her neck. The slave class had some perks of its own, one of which was the ability to walk over dangerous ground unhindered. But, of course, there was one requirement; she had to do it barefoot. Quickly she kicked off her boots and took a deep breath, then stepped boldly onto the spikes. As ability promised, her bare feet pressed into the spikes, but the skin never broke.
“So the slave class has some uses after all,” Heather laughed with a smile. She harmlessly strode across the barrier as if it was a thick rug.
The hall reached a domed room that acted as an intersection. It was round with marbled pillars soaring up to a glass roof. She could see the moon outside as dark clouds drifted by lazily but didn't linger long. If this were her lair, this room would undoubtedly be trapped or the true path concealed. Carefully she ventured to the center of the room, her three glowing eyes straining to spot any danger.
“That’s disappointing,” she said aloud when nothing happened. She focused instead on the halls, each looking strikingly similar. After glancing down each one, she realized they were identical in every detail down to the lighting. She reached into her pouch and took out a coin, and tossed it down a hall. Quickly she looked down the other halls to see the coin tumbling down each of them. “Or maybe this will be more tricky than I thought.” Even as the words were spoken, she realized the hall she had just left was also identical and impossible to distinguish.
“So, if every path is the same, I can only assume it's the wrong one,” she said as she puzzled it out. “But how do I choose a path I can't see?” There was a chirp in her head, and she realized Webster was listening. He said he could feel where she was and that she needed to go straight. When she argued that she had no idea if the hall went straight or even back the way she came, he offered a suggestion.
“It's crazy, but what have I got to lose?” she muttered before closing her eyes. She took a careful step with arms outstretched and felt her way until she was a good twenty steps along. Then she opened her eyes to see she was safely down a corridor that looked nothing like the one she had seen. “Did that work?” she asked both aloud and to the spider, who chirped that she felt closer now.
Looking back, she could see the round room and wondered if the trap was only an illusion. The thought was tossed aside as the pressing need to find Lydia took precedence. With a quick step, she hurried down the hall, heading for a red door at the end. Webster told her that he followed Lydia through that door, so she carefully approached. She reached for the handle but thought better of it. Instead, she sang to the floor, causing a single long vine to grow and reach upward. As she gestured with her hand, the vine followed the movement, grabbing the handle and pulling. The door opened, but there was a snapping noise, and something like an ax swung from a slit in the ceiling, slicing the vine in two.
“How rude,” Heather said nervously as she watched the ax retract into the slit. She dashed through the doorway before it finished resetting and arrived in what looked like an art gallery. The walls went up nearly ten meters to a vaulted ceiling painted with images of the night sky. The walls were polished stone divided by stone recesses hung dozens of paintings. They depicted all sorts of things, from landscapes to people. The floor was covered in a deep red rug that ran across the room to where a statue of Lydia twice Heather's height stood. There were two doors on the far side, and Webster told her to take the left one. She was halfway across the room with her scythe at the ready when something caught her eye. On the left wall was a grand painting of two people, one of which was Lydia. The other person made Heather pause as she stared in confusion.
“It can’t be,” she muttered for a moment and then stepped closer. “It looks just like him.” Before she could study it, there was a noise behind her. She turned to see a tall, lanky shape at the end of the room. It stood before the statue and resembled something from a nightmare. It was tall as Frank but unnaturally thin with oily black skin pulled over a skeleton. It had eyes as large as her fists, but they were faceted and metallic in color. There was no nose to speak of, and the mouth ended in a pair of spider-like tusks. The hands appeared to end in three webbed and clawed fingers that dripped with black oil. It moaned with a sound that sounded like gurgling as it waddled her way in a staggering fashion.
Heather leveled her scythe as she wished Frank was here to blunt the beast's attack. She waited until it was close, then rushed in, weapon slicing high. The beast let out a burbling cackle and sprayed a mist of black oil. Before Heather knew what was happening, her feet were slipping, and suddenly the monster lashed out. She felt those terrible nails pierce her armor and tear at the skin beneath, causing an unusual amount of pain. It caught her, using its hold to hoist her up and throw her into the wall. She crashed to the stone, causing a painting to fall as she collapsed to the floor. For a brief moment, she saw stars and wondered just how many ribs might be broken. Then the memory came back, and she realized that it was just an injury in the game, and the fight was far from over.
She looked up just in time to blink away as clawed hands raked the wall where she was slumped a second ago. Arriving in the middle of the room, she turned to face the monster as it began to twist awkwardly. Heather was sure she heard bones popping as the horrid thing swiveled its upper torso all the way around while the legs still pointed a the wall. It ran at her with its feet facing the wrong way for the first few steps as the legs began to twist.
“Oh, that's just horrid,” Heather groaned and pulled her arm back. She had an ability that she never used but now seemed like a good time. With a sweeping motion, she threw the scythe sending it across the room in a buzz saw-like spiral. It collided with the monster producing a hail of tar-like blood before being battered away. It hardly slowed the beast who ran forward, trailing dark ooze from the gaping wound on its chest.
“What is this thing?” Heather asked as it closed on her. She folded her arms and created a wall of plants to buy her some time to think. It was a shock when Webster chirped in her head and suggested she ask her panel what it was.
“Oh, you have to be kidding me,” she growled and jumped back as the barrier started to shred. She went to rub at her arm but stopped realizing that Lydia was probably watching. She didn't dare give away that she was chosen, especially not to somebody so hostile. She fell back as the monster broke through and held up her hand, summoning the scythe to her call. It reformed in a puff of black smoke, and once again, she faced off with the beast. It frothed with black oil, staining everything around it and giving her cause to hesitate. She might slip again if she got too close, leaving her only the choice to throw the scythe again. Before she could think, the monster reached out with a bony arm. She heard snapping and popping as the arm suddenly stretched disgustingly long, the three claws racing her way.
A flash of green later, and she was near the statue, her three eyes flaring with an angry light. This thing was dangerous and full of surprises. If she wasn't careful, it would get a hold of her again, and she would find herself kissing another wall. If only she could call her bone champion or summon a horde of skeletons. It was becoming tiresome to keep her true powers hidden, especially when it could make things so much easier.
The creature rushed at her in a staggering waddle, its arms outstretched. Black oil oozed from its skin, leaving a trail in its wake. She suddenly laughed at her stupidity as another idea came to mind. This beast was coated in oil, and she was a being of fire. Maybe it was time to put that fire to use and see if that oil was flammable. With a smile, she lifted the scythe and set the blade alight. With a growl of anger, she sent the scythe flying, spinning in a wheel of steel and fire. It left a billowing trail of smoke before it slammed into the monster. There was a flash of light as the beast went up in a terrible conflagration, screaming in a gurgling howl. It flailed about the room as the floor also went up, sending ripples of fire across the floor.
“How does that feel?” Heather asked as the monster fell to one knee, its body burning like a match. It suddenly lurched forward, crawling on all fours as it howled with an arm stretching to grab her. She blinked away as the beast clawed the statue leaving gouges across Lydia’s face.
“Hey, leave my statue alone!” Heather heard as the voice echoed in the room.
“Oh, are you watching, Lydia?” Heather called out as she watched the monster finally crumple and die. She took a moment to look at the statue and smiled. “Honestly, I think it's an improvement.”
“Very funny,” the voice echoed in the room. “I have to admit, for a flower singer, you are hard to kill.”
“I can heal,” Heather answered as she reached for her scythe and called it to her hand.
“Lot's of people can heal,” Lydia responded. “None of them have ever made it past the Oilzok.”
“Oh please, I have killed sand demons,” Heather bragged just to sound confident.
“I doubt that,” Lydia laughed as Heather reached the door. She called another vine from the floor and was surprised when it opened harmlessly. The room beyond looked like a parlor of some kind, full of cushioned red chairs and dark wooden tables. There was a fireplace to one side, burning with a modest fire that crackled as she entered. There were a few bookcases on the wall and additional artwork and tapestries. Heather ignored the furnishings and focused on finding the exit and spotting any hidden threats.
“Nothing to kill me? How odd,” Heather said as she crossed the room. She hurried to a pair of oaken doors on the right and paused to summon another vine. Much to her dismay, these doors were locked, so she had the vine grow into the keyhole. It expanded rapidly, groaning against the lock until there was a loud crack and the lock tore away.
“Annoying flower singer!” Lydia cursed as Heather pushed the door open and stepped into the next room.
“Now, this is more my style,” Heather said with a smile as she entered an expansive glass greenhouse. Plants of a dozen varieties grew in beds and planters along a stone path that meandered across the room. She wanted to take time to investigate some of the plants, but time was of the essence. With a sense of calm, she rushed into the room, following the path as she watched carefully. It was no surprise when a flower with large red bulbs suddenly moved, the flowers becoming fanged jaws.
“Bad flower,” Heather yelled as she jumped back to avoid a bite. She raised a hand and began to sing as the flower twisted and writhed. “And now you're my flower.” She walked up and stroked one of the flower jaws as if it was a pet, then asked it what other dangers lurked in the garden. She heard it in her mind like she did Webster and nodded when it was done. “So there are a lot of dangerous plants in this world,” she said. “Good to know.”
“Will you stop playing in my garden!” Lydia yelled as if from all around.
“You could save yourself the trouble and just come out,” Heather called.
“I hardly think that’s prudent,” Lydia replied.
“Suit yourself,” Heather said and resumed crossing the garden. At the far end was an iron gate, but she had the plants growing to either side pull it open. The next space was a large hall with a grand staircase leading to a balcony above. The staircase was choked with webs, so Heather vanished in a flash to arrive on the balcony above.
She followed a long hall with doors on every side but didn't bother with the bait. Webster was secretly guiding her, telling her to press on and go straight to the tower. The hall ended at a stone door with a leering face on it. She knew this was the way inside, but there was no handle or key. Once again, Webster had the answer, so Heather spoke the words crimson heart and smiled as the door faded away.
“How in the world did you know that?” Lydia’s voice echoed down the hall.
“The flowers told me,” Heather lied as she stepped into a large round room dominated by a staircase that climbed the curving wall. “You're at the top, aren't you?” she asked while looking up. “I will be there soon.”
To her surprise, nothing waited on the stairs, and she went up four floors before arriving at a metal door with a bat motif on top. She stood outside the door, ready to solve it, when it suddenly opened. Beyond was a stone walkway across a wall outside. It was lit by torches and ended at a square tower that went up another two or three levels. Lydia stood at the far end, her eyes fixated on Heather and a wicked smile on her face.
“How nice of you to come out,” Heather said as she stepped onto the wall.
Lydia put her hands to her hips as her head shook slowly. “There wasn’t any point in trying to delay you with traps. So tell me, how did a flower singer become so good at annoying people?”
“It’s all in how you use it,” Heather said and pointed the scythe her way. “I was told you hated bad manners, but you are the rudest person I have ever met in this world. You’re kind of a hypocrite, aren’t you?”
Lydia laughed and waved a finger as if Heather should know better. “This is my land and my rules. I am the one who decides what is and isn't polite.”
“Oh, don't give me that nonsense,” Heather growled. “There was no reason for you to lure my friends and I here, then try to use us. Honestly, what did you hope to accomplish?”
“The same thing everybody wants,” Lydia replied with a smile. “More power.”
“So you chose to attack a devil and her friends?” Heather mocked. “You should have stuck to paladins.”
“I have to admit I had second thoughts about your friends. My companions and I have a soft spot for the undead,” Lydia replied as she started to approach Heather. “But you are a nature-loving hero player despite the race you picked.”
Heather paused as she considered Lydia’s admission that she knew the others were undead. How had she known? What was she playing at? Did she just suggest she didn’t like hero players? Did that mean she was a monster player? The time to ask questions was drawing short as Lydia closed the distance between them.
Heather put a pulsing heal on herself as preparation for the fight, then waited until Lydia was close before setting her scythe alight. With a mighty swing of her arm, she sent the weapon racing down the walkway in a blaze of death. Lydia reacted, her form collapsing into a red mist that spiraled out in billowing arms. The weapon passed through harmlessly as the arms of mist regathered, and out she stepped.
“Foolish girl,” Lydia laughed. “You have no idea what your up against, do you?”
“A woman with terrible fashion sense,” Heather retorted as she reached out her hand and recalled the scythe. She took a combat stance as Lydia closed to within a dozen steps causing the woman to laugh.
“Poor, Princess Hannah,” she mocked as a wicked smile curved her lips. “Your blood is going to taste divine.” She leaped into the air as a slender sword appeared in hand and came rushing for Heather’s throat.
Heather put the points spent on combat to use and easily deflected the blow. She lashed out with one of her own, but Lydia somersaulted away, springing over her hands and back to her feet. As soon as she was up, her image blurred, barely giving Heather a moment to react. She folded her arms, bringing up a shield of plants that Lydia slammed against.
“You annoying witch!” Lydia screamed from the other side as she bounced off.
“I’ve been called worse,” Heather said as she stepped back. She began to sing and caused wildflowers to grow across the walkway. Her feet floated above the plants as they thickened and grew dense. Lydia flew over her plant wall, sword in hand, only to land in the dense plants.
“What is this?” Lydia cried as they began to coil around her.
“Oh, you can't plant walk?” Heather laughed and rushed in with her scythe going high. She swung at the raging woman who collapsed into red mist again, the arms billowing harmlessly out of the way. The coalesced behind her on a clear area of the wall to reveal a furious woman.
“I have never met such an annoying mundane player in my life,” Lydia growled.
“The flower singer isn’t a mundane class,” Heather argued.
“Please,” Lydia groaned. “It may as well be. What are you going to use next, a cloud of butterflies?”
“You have no idea how happy it would make me to be able to summon a cloud of butterflies,” Heather retorted. “But I thought bees would better,” she added and snapped her fingers. Lydia wailed as a cloud of stinging insects appeared and swarmed about her.
“I am going to drain you dry!” Lydia roared as a bubble of red liquid formed around her. It repelled the bees giving her a moment of respite as she glared at Heather.
Heather saw the angry look and set her blazing scythe blade to the plants at her feet. They went up like kindling, turning the area around her into a carpet of flames. She knew Lydia wouldn't enter the fire, so for the moment, they were equal.
“What have you got against hero players anyway?” Heather asked as the fire kissed her bare feet.
“Why should I care about hero players?” Lydia said through clenched teeth as she glared into the flames that protected Heather.
“I assume you are one or am I mistaken?” Heather asked as Lydia smiled again. This time Heather noticed something she hadn't seen before; something disturbing in the woman's smile. She had fangs that curled over her lower teeth giving her an evil grin. “You're a vampire!” Heather said in alarm as Lydia reached out a hand, causing the red liquid around her to stretch. It lashed out like a whip, wrapping around Heather's waist before jerking her out of the flames. Heather vanished in a flash of green before the vampire could draw her in and reappeared a dozen paces beyond.
“Now, do you see?” Lydia said as her eyes began to glow with an eerie red light. “I have no love for you, vain hero players.”
“Even one whose friends are undead?” Heather asked as she got ready to strike.
Lydia's bubble of blood rolled across the wall, taking her clear of the bees and closer to Heather. She smiled as her hand gestured, and a crunching sound echoed from behind. Heather glanced over her shoulder to see a towering gargoyle barring the path as Lydia closed from the other.
“I don't know why they waste time with you,” Lydia answered. “You and that warrior you're betrothed to don't belong with the others.”
“Leave my boyfriend out of this,” Heather snarled as the blood around Lydia began to peel away. It formed five blobs that took shape, becoming small bat-winged creatures with terrible maws. They flew into the air and began to dive at Heather, who had to blink out of the way.
“After I drain you, I will give your boyfriend a chance to earn my favor,” Lydia teased. “If he pleases me, I might let him live as a plaything.”
“Lady, you are so going to regret that,” Heather roared and vanished in a green flash. She appeared just as a squeak echoed in her mind alerting her to the mistake she was making, but it was too late. Her scythe cut right through Lydia as if she wasn't there, the body collapsing into a pool of blood. A second later, the real Lydia bit down, breaking the skin on Heather's shoulder as her strength began to fade.
Heather fell to her knees, but Lydia followed, holding her up as she continued to drink. Heather could barely move as Webster squealed something inside her head.
“What about the slave collar?” Heather called back as the spider reminded her of another ability. “A slave's resilience,” she whispered and tried to recall what the power did. It had something to do with being able to resist being restrained both physically and magically. She realized the collar was fighting the vampire's ability to keep her paralyzed. She could still move but was too weak to attack. She had only one chance and needed to cast a spell that would break the vampire's hold. A smile broke her lips as she chanted a quick cast, giving up on keeping her secret.
The world was suddenly awash in muted colors as everything seemed to pale. Her skin went gray and wrinkled as if significantly aged. Her eyes sunk and dark rings formed around the sockets as her hair became coarse and dry. She no longer felt the touch of the warm breeze as guise of undeath took hold.
Lydia began to choke and tore away, tossing Heather aside as she began to spit dead, black blood.
“How?” she coughed and staggered back, giving Heather a chance to recover.
Heather stood slowly while also casting mend the dead on herself. She was tired of playing this game with the vile woman and turned so Lydia could see her dead face.
“You’re undead?” Lydia said between coughs. “But how? I could see your aura. You were one of the living.”
Heather threw up a hand, and all around it began to rain spears of bone. The blood imps were skewered in the hail, popping like balloons while Lydia cried out from several impacts.
“Living or dead, you had no right to treat my friends or me that way,” Heather said with a voice that sounded distant and strained. There was a roar as the gargoyle ran at her, shaking the wall as it closed. Her scythe collided with it, bringing the charge to a halt. A wall of bones formed and extended outward, pushing the beast over the side to fall to the ground below. Heather then willed the wall away and held out a hand to call her scythe back before standing like a reaper of death over the vampire woman.
“You can’t be a flower singer,” Lydia gurgled and spit.
“What’s the matter, Lydia dear?” Heather asked as she stalked forward. “Does dead blood not agree with you?”
“Wait!” Lydia pleaded with a handheld up. “I didn't know.”
“Does that really matter?” Heather shouted and swung down. Lydia collapsed into a red mist that rushed away, reforming further down the wall. She fell to her hands and knees while spitting up blood and crawling away.
“I am guessing that’s a racial power,” Heather said with a pleased tone. “I doubt you have many more uses of it, assuming you have any at all.” She vanished in a green flash and arrived beside Lydia to hook the woman’s neck with the scythe.
“Wait!” Lydia choked. “We’re both undead.”
“Oh, don’t try to talk your way out of this,” Heather snarled. “I saw what you were planning to do. You were preparing a ceremony to trap my friends in your kingdom and make them your puppets.”
“How did you know that?” Lydia coughed.
“Webster!” Heather called. There was a flash, and the spider suddenly appeared at Heather's side.
“The familiar!” Lydia laughed. “It was watching me, wasn’t it?”
“Webster is the best friend a girl can have,” Heather answered, causing the spider to rub against her barefoot.
“But, we are the same,” Lydia croaked as black spittle flew from her mouth. “You must have used a spell to control the others.”
“I didn't put some kind of spell on them. They come with me because they are my friends, and we care about one another!” Heather roared and lifted the blade, forcing Lydia to lean back.
“Why would that hero player want to marry an undead player like you?” Lydia wheezed.
“Ha, is that what you think?” Heather laughed. “I'm sorry, Lydia dear, but you have it all backward. Frank is undead; I'm the hero player.”
“But you’re undead,” Lydia said and dared to look into Heather’s face.
“I would love to explain it to you, but I have learned not to share my secrets,” Heather said when the air suddenly filled with light. Both women looked across the wall to see a pillar of what looked like sunshine streaking the night sky.
“No! Not now!” Lydia roared and looked at Heather. “Please, you have beaten me. Take your friends and go!”
“What was that?” Heather said in awe as a rumbling sound echoed from the distance.
“They must be in the woods,” Lydia groaned. “They will be at the gates soon.”
“Who will?” Heather asked as she leaned over to stare into Lydia’s eyes.
“The paladins,” Lydia replied. “I killed one a day ago. He must have respawned and come back with help.”
“And you're going to be too weak to fight them,” Heather said with a shake of her head. She drew her scythe away and let Lydia cup her throat as another pillar of light produced a shrill howl from a distance.
“They are fighting my wolf packs,” Lydia said as her strength recovered.
“Webster, I need you to find the others,” Heather said as the spider bobbed with a yes and teleported away. Heather turned on Lydia, who was struggling to get to her feet. “Most of your traps and monsters are defeated already. You're not going to be much of a match for them.”
“You can’t leave me like this,” Lydia pleaded.
“I most certainly can,” Heather scoffed. “This isn’t my fight.”
Lydia stumbled to her feet but looked visibly sick. “If you leave me like this, they will reset me for sure.”
“Oh please, just fly away or something,” Heather urged.
“I can't!” Lydia cried. “If a vampire drinks dead blood, they lose access to all their powers for twenty-four hours. I had just enough time left to mist walk and escape you, but now I’m helpless.”
Heather glared at the weakened vampire as she tossed over what to do. On the one hand, Lydia attacked her and her friends, but on the other hand, she was going to be reset and lose her kingdom. Webster chirped in her mind, and she looked through his eyes to see Frank standing over the lifeless body of what looked like a werewolf.
“You wait right here,” Heather said and vanished in a flash of green. She appeared in the hall right beside Frank and quickly began casting mend the dead.
“Heather?” Frank said in alarm as he looked down at her.
“We have no time to waste,” Heather said as she began to knit his terrible wounds. “Webster, run on and find the others. Frank, get your armor on and run into the inner courtyard.” She turned to Quinny to see she was also severely wounded and began to heal her as well. “Stay with him and wait for the others.”
“What are you going to do?” Quinny asked as the healing magic took away the pain.
“I have to get the others before the paladins reach the castle,” Heather said as she poured more power into the healing.
“What paladins?” Frank said in alarm. Heather explained that Lydia was a vampire and that there was an unknown number of paladins in the woods heading for the castle. They needed to get to the inner courtyard even if Frank had to tunnel through the walls. She pressed on, pouring more and more energy into the heal until Quinny called out.
“Whoa, don't overdo it,” Quinny urged. “You don't do well once you start glowing blue.”
“I'm fine,” she insisted and stepped back. “Now, both of you go while I get the others.”
“How did you find us so fast?” Quinny asked.
Heather smiled and explained that she could teleport to any place she could see, and she could see through Webster's eyes. She had him run ahead to find them since he could pass through small openings and blink through barriers.
“You and that spider make a pretty good team,” Quinny laughed as she and Frank turned to run to the dining room. “I will help him get in his armor and meet you in the courtyard.”
Heather nodded and focused on the spider's sight to see he was scurrying sideways along a wall. A moment later, he turned a corner to a scene of carnage. Fires burned in a dozen places, and the shattered remains of several gargoyles lay crumbled in the yard. The zombie thing was down on all fours as Legeis prepared to flatten it with a hammer blow. Flashes of darkness and light streaked from Breanne and the dark woman as the two flew through the air, spiraling about one another as they cast spells. Blackbast was in the middle of heal when Heather focused and appeared beside her in a flash.
“Blackbast!” Heather cried and came to assist with the heal.
“What are you doing here?” the cat woman wheezed as Heather put her pulsing heal on. “I told you I can heal myself.”
“You're welcome, and my heal will make it faster,” Heather said and helped her up. The hammer blow came down a second later, and Legeis finally ended the zombie. The death forced the shadow that controlled the zombie to cry out as he solidified and dropped to the floor.
“Legeis!” Heather cried as the goblin went to stamp the weakened man. “Let him go. We have bigger problems.”
“Let him go?” Blackbast and Legeis said in unison as Heather looked up to the two women fighting in the air.
“Lady Dellaquin!” Heather yelled. “Stop fighting before it’s too late!”
Breanne and the woman paused to look down as Heather pointed to the gates. There was a flash of light from someplace outside the walls followed by shouts of “to the castle.”
“What is that?” Breanne called down.
Heather took a moment to explain to everyone assembled that a force of paladins was about to attack the castle. Since they had exhausted themselves on one another, neither group was in any shape to repel them. Lady Dellaquin dropped to the ground and rushed to Baron Durmont, imploring him to get up.
“Hurry, or we will be reset,” she pleaded.
“Go,” he urged. “I haven’t the strength to go on. Leave me behind and save yourself.”
“I am not leaving you!” she cried and tried to drag him away as the gates suddenly rattled.
“Oddly, they are devoted to one another,” Heather said in surprise.
“Why is that so surprising?” Blackbast asked as Breanne and Legeis joined them.
“Because they treat everybody else so poorly,” Heather said with a sigh. She turned to Blackbast and asked her to summon a disc while Legeis ran for the palanquin. She then asked Breanne if she could carry Blackbast over the walls to the inner courtyard.
“I can, but why?” Breanne asked.
“We have to get away,” Heather urged. “I am hoping her disc will follow you and carry the palanquin with.” She instructed Webster to hurry back to the inner yard as Legeis put the palanquin over the magic disc. She then turned to the pathetic couple that was trying to limp away. “You two get in the palanquin,” she ordered and hurried to help lift the fallen baron. Lady Dellaquin didn't argue, and together they got the fallen man inside. With that, Breanne grabbed hold of Blackbast and flew into the air with her. As predicted, the magical disc followed, carrying the others away to safety.
“Run into the house and go to the dining room. Frank will have cleared a tunnel through the walls to the inner yard,” she said to Legeis.
“What about you?” he asked as the gates shook and wood splintered.
“I am going to slow them down,” Heather said with a smile and lifted her scythe.
Legeis nodded and ran into the house as Heather turned to face to failing gates. Thus far, nobody knew she was here, and the paladins were probably expecting to find undead inside. She called to the grave and channeled her spell through the scythe, boosting the summon's power. In moments the yard was filled with over a hundred skeletons warriors in full armor and wielding weapons. She felt faint but ordered the army to kill anything that came through the gate. With that, her vision focused inward and saw through the eyes of the spider following Frank across the inner yard.
“Thank goodness,” she sighed and vanished in a flash of green.
