Chapter 29 - Wizardfire

Hump screamed, maddened by the pain, maddened by the inexhaustible power. He felt ready to explode. Heat and pain seared through him as if his blood were boiling, threatening to burn him apart from the inside. The pain fuelled his anger and drive to destroy his enemies. To rip apart the undead kobolds and send them back to the dungeon core in pieces.

Hump couldn’t stop his anger. There was too much essence coursing through him to control his emotions. He bared his teeth, fighting against the power that wanted to consume him. It urged him to unleash it, to give into the essence and let it do as it pleased. Refusing it took all the discipline he had. Remember the River and Waves, his master’s voice said to him.

He closed his eyes. He imagined the waters that flowed within him, passageways that connected his entire body. They were more turbulent than ever. Vivid, violent torrents that tore through him with the force of a tidal wave, steaming with the heat of wizardfire. In it, he threw his pain and anger. For a second, he felt himself thinking straight.

Then panic overwhelmed him. It wasn’t working. The river was becoming stronger. There was too much of it, he couldn’t keep up. He’d never seen it—never known it was possible for it to be so out of control. This was beyond him. It was ripping him to pieces from the inside, and all he could focus on was pain.

Deep breath, the old man said again. Clear your mind, calm yourself, and calm the waters. It is a part of you, your will can command it.

It was an old memory; one he didn’t know he still had. Back from when he had first taken wizardfire and it had nearly killed him. Once more, Hump followed the old man’s instructions. He breathed long and deeply, smelling the ghostly scent of his master’s pipe smoke as he turned his focus inward. He had swallowed this power for a purpose, and he wasn’t going to let it get the better of him. Failure wasn’t an option. He held that firmly in his mind as he began to channel his blast spell, and in a heartbeat, the heat of wizardfire eased.

Hump opened his eyes. The runes he’d marked on the ground erupted with the blue light of pure essence as they responded to his will. It rose from them like smoke until their projected forms hovered in the air around him.

The arrow rune at his front aimed directly into the undead horde, their corpses torn and bloodied, leaking a sickly purple essence. Without the rune, the power within him would be too much to control—not even his staff could direct energy like that. Not alone at least. The spell would erupt the moment he tried to release it, exploding in his face and killing him before the undead had their chance. But the runes helped to contain that power and give it direction.

Hump took aim with his staff, gripping it tightly in both hands and lining it up with the arrow tip. He took another breath, solidified his intent, and began to channel all the power of wizardfire into the end of his staff. The runes along the shaft came alight and sizzled with essence, hissing like steam from a kettle. Light spiralled around the crystal head in a torrent, a vortex of magical energy beyond anything he could naturally produce. The essence lashed from it in twisting coils, slamming into the ground with a pop, and streaking into the air around him. But the energy lost was nothing compared to the power at its core.

The lashings became faster. They cracked against the stone and churned up the air around him like a storm. His staff shook, and his entire body vibrated with it. His body screamed from the heat of essence as pain erupted through the veins of his arms like liquid fire. He was at his limit.

“Blast!” he boomed. His voice resonated with magic, deepening his voice. Essence escaped on his breath. And all at once, the heat left him. A flash of cold spread painfully from his core as he was hollowed out by the rush of fleeting energy.

His staff flared. A beam of incandescent blue light shot from it with blinding speed, cracking the air with an ear-splitting boom as it followed the path of the arrow rune. It was nothing like any spell he’d cast before. Even as it left him, he could feel the concentrated power within it. It shattered the space between them with a bang and landed amongst the horde a little to the left of where he’d been aiming. It exploded in a show of blue light, tearing apart stone, flesh, and bone—the force of all that essence converted to kinetic energy.

The cavern shook. A small crater marked the ground where the spell had struck. The horde was blown apart in all directions. Limbs were crushed to bloody pulps, their chests and heads caved in or shredded apart by stone fragments. Not even death magic could keep them going after that.

Hump collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath, clutching to his staff just to stay upright. As painful as the cold was, it was a reprieve from the heat of wizardfire. But already felt it kindling once more, a pulsating heat that rose from his stomach, fighting against the cold of essence overuse that slivered out of his core.

Bud and Vamir were charging even as the undead hit the ground.

Some of the kobolds landed in the stream, others were hurled into the horde, knocking them down with them. Yet more pushed toward the group of survivors that huddled together at the bridge, half a hundred foes that were without fear or pain.

Vamir was first into their ranks, his sword in one hand, a long dagger in the other. Each of his movements flowed into the next. He chopped into the closest creature with his sword, pulling it free as he drove his dagger into the face of the next. Then he spun, cutting out the legs of a third, his blade trailing silver light. All three collapsed to the stone floor.

The third still moved. It clawed its way toward Vamir, driven by the death magic that empowered it. The ranger knelt, stabbing his dagger through the creature’s heartstone in a swift strike. Then lunged to his feet, plunging his sword through the chest of another kobold to his right as he sent a vicious kick into the spine of one ahead of him. Its back bent unnaturally, its neck snapped back, and it went flying into the next kobold. Both fell to the ground.

At Vamir’s side, Bud attacked like a force of nature, empowered by Heart of Stone. His essence hung in the air around him like the presence of Kelisia herself, a reminder of her power. The undead kobolds seemed to rear back from that power, repulsed by the holy essence that surrounded him. He tore into the creatures with quick, powerful slashes, lopping off heads and limbs of any that came into range. A deadly blend of ice and steel. Hump might have his tricks, but what Bud had was pure and god given power. When Bud felled them, they did not rise again. Their bodies were crystalised, purged of the death magic that fuelled them, consumed by the ice.

Together, the two tore through the undead ranks. Vamir seemed to dance between them, each cut graceful. Bud was just as precise, but the big man had a power that practically heaved each victim from their feet as he cut into them.

“Are you okay?” Celaine shouted. Vamir had left his bow and quiver behind for her to use the extra arrows. Hump heard the twang of Celaine’s bow, picking off any of the undead that tried to get around to their flank. Conserving arrows.

“It’ll pass,” Hump said. Already he could feel the energies within him evening out. “I just need a few moments to catch my breath.”

“Good,” she said, loosing an arrow that took down one of the kobolds trying to push in from the side. “We still need some magic.”

“I know,” Hump said. He drew a deep breath then pulled himself back to his feet, nearly losing his balance in the process. Once he was upright, he focused on controlling his essence, on keeping the river calm. His spellbook shook on his belt, but he ignored it to focus on the fight ahead. It shook again. Not now, he thought at it.

He stared after Vamir and Bud as they tore through the undead horde, breaking open a gap in its formation. Hump saw Kassius through the mass of bodies, surrounded by undead. His armour was stained with blood, and his eyes were as savage and blood thirsty as a warrior of death. He gripped his sword in one hand, wielding the long thin blade with a speed that could match Vamir.

On either side of him fought the other members of his party. The rogue wielded twin daggers, while the archer had forgone his bow and hacked away with a shortsword. And still holding the bridge, the black paladin cleaved, a god of destruction. With each swing, it seemed the aura of shadow that surrounded him grew thicker.

“Kassius!” Bud shouted. “This way! This way!”

The prince saw them. It took a moment for the savageness in his eyes to disappear and for realisation to set in. He nodded once, then began shouting out orders to his party and the villagers. His voice clear even over the snarls of the undead. And the people followed.

They worked their way forward, using the long shafts of tools like pikes to keep the kobolds at bay, while the wounded were carried at the centre. Kassius’ stream of instructions never stopped, he kept the formation tight, predicting the waves of attacks as they came.

Hump felt like he was watching royalty. Not just a title, but a man that was noble to his soul. Kassius fought for his people like no lord Hump had ever seen. He was the first to defend each attack as they came, leading the villagers from the head with no regard to himself. Despite having no god to draw on, there was a feeling of power around him like the imperial aura of legends. The undead must have sensed it too because they swayed back from his presence, circling around him to get at the weaker flanks, fearing him just as they had Bud. But Kassius seemed to be everywhere.

In that moment, Hump made his decision to accept the prince’s invitation. Whatever Bud thought of Kassius, there was no denying the good he had done today. He had put his life on the line when he didn’t have to, all to get these people out. If that didn’t deserve Hump’s loyalty, he didn’t know who did.

The ground quaked as the black paladin charged through the ranks like a raging bull, cleaving apart what remained of the undead lines. And then the gap was opened.

“Go!” Kassius shouted. “Get to the tunnels!”

The villagers poured through the broken ranks, passing between Bud and Vamir, racing for the walkway. There were only six villagers left, and two were forced to carry a stretcher between them, an unconscious man lying on it. Kassius’ party remained, working with Bud and Vamir to keep the undead from pursuing. Hump held his staff at the ready, a blast spell on his lips for anything that got too close. Celaine was down to her last few arrows, shooting only when she had to, dealing with any undead that managed to slip around the sides and tried to target the villagers.

When the villagers reached the walkway, Vamir shouted, “We need to move!” Scales had spread along his neck and chin and covered his hands like before. A coating of armour that did nothing to slow his movements; if anything he seemed faster and stronger than ever.

“Retreat on my count,” Kassius called. There was a tense few seconds of fighting, then a gap in the attacks came. “Now!”

They stepped back as one. A mishmash of swordsman and dagger users, Chosen and ordinary warriors. But the kobolds could not find a way past. They reached the outskirts of the kobold village. Behind them, the villagers had their makeshift weapons ready.

“Again!” Kassius called.

Hump held his magic as he watched, waiting for a moment to use it. The heat of wizardfire was building in him once more, but the waves were calm. He had it under control. Still, the power wouldn’t last forever, and it was a long way back to the forward fortification. When it ran out…

Best not to think about it, Hump thought.

They were making progress. They were beyond the village outskirts now, and Hump joined them at the rear of their line. It was working. The undead might have numbers, but they lacked any sort of coordination. They’d need more than that to face off against Chosen and the rest of Kassius’ party.

Hump felt something was off. There was a pitter patter around him. He searched for the source, and saw stones and arrows raining from above. He stared up. Kobolds lined the bridges and walkways overhead, hundreds of them.

And each and every one of them rained down arrows and stones.

“Archers above us!” Celaine shouted.

Hump threw up his shield with a scream, spreading his left hand like a claw as if to catch the falling projectiles, and raising his staff overhead. The air shimmered as a wall of power took form, bigger than any he had cast before. Large enough to shield them all from the barrage of stones and arrows.

He grunted at the sudden impacts, almost buckling under the weight of the attack, and still he was too late.

Kassius’ archer collapsed to the ground, two arrows through his back and a stone crushing his head. There was no hope for him.

Bud cried out in pain.

“Bud!” Celaine yelled.

An arrow had pierced the mail beneath the right shoulder in his chest. He staggered back, holding his sword in one hand as one of the undead swung at him with a clumsy swing. He bashed it aside, and Vamir stepped in to finish the job.

“Can you walk, Bud?” Vamir asked. Glancing at him with a precious second. Celaine rushed forward, catching Bud on her shoulder as he staggered.

“I’m fine,” Bud breathed. “I can still fight.”

“No you bloody well can’t,” Vamir shouted. “Retreat! Celaine, get him to the back!”

“We need to hurry!” Hump said, gasping. Every step felt like agony, as hundreds of projectiles rained down upon them, crushing him down beneath their weight. “I can’t hold this.”

“How long?” Kassius asked.

“Seconds,” Hump ground out. Each strike sent a shockwave through his soul, causing ripples on his shield like raindrops on a lake. With each impact, Hump thought his spell would break. Cold seeped into him as if Kelisia herself had come to pay him a visit. Speaking was beyond him, even listening was too much. All he could do was take one step at a time until finally, he felt the steep slope of the ramp behind him. They rushed up into the shelter of the walkway, as arrows struck the ground before their feet. Still half the undead remained, chasing them upward even as arrows struck them in the back.

“Vamir! Get them out of here!” Kassius yelled. “We’ll hold them back.”

Vamir frowned, then nodded. “Good luck.”

“And to you,” Kassius said, hacking another kobold.

“No!” Bud slurred, staggering toward them. “We leave no one behind!”

Celaine tried to drag him back, but he resisted her.

He clapped a hand on Bud’s good shoulder as he passed. “We’re going, lad. Someone needs to get these villagers back to the fortification.”

“No!” Bud said.

“You’re not listening,” Vamir snapped. “We have to go. All of you are just in the way. Kassius’ odds will be better without a wounded knight, arrowless archer, and a wizard out of essence to protect! Not to mention all the villagers. Now go! That’s an order.”

Still the knight hesitated.

“Bud,” Hump said quietly. “If we stay, we’re going to die. All these people we are supposed to help will die. We can’t stay. We have our own part to play.”

Bud held his eyes for a long moment, then nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”

“Come on,” Celaine growled. “Before you get us all killed.

The villagers watched them in awe as they passed through their ranks. They reached out to touch them, thanking them. Thanking them so much that Hump felt awkward. He saw more than one make the mark of the pantheon with their left hands, a sweeping half circle from the belly button to the forehead.

There was no hesitation when Vamir gave them the order to follow. But Hump looked back to where Kassius was still fighting, his black paladin at his side, and the rogue behind them. He knew neither he nor Kassius were chosen, but he prayed some god was watching. That some god cared enough to help them make it out. And then Hump followed the column of villagers back up the tunnel. They followed the chalk markings he had left behind, making slow but steady pace up the tunnel. He could still hear battle behind him, but soon it grew faded, until it was nothing but a dull murmur on the tunnel wind.

It wasn’t long before they encountered resistance. The small clusters of kobolds that had been lying dead on the floor when they had come down this way had risen. They wandered down through the tunnels toward them, drawn to whatever magic had brought them back.

“How much range does a spell like this have?” Vamir asked. The undead kobolds were disorientated and useless, Vamir alone was enough to take care of them.

“I don’t know,” Hump said. “A large one, by the looks of it. The spell came from the shrine. This might be another of the dungeon core’s powers, in which case, the spell may have affected its entire body.

“Mother’s mercy,” Vamir said.

“You’e saying all the dead kobolds could have risen?” Bud asked in a pained voice.

“All the ones with their heartstones still in them,” Hump said.

Progress was slow but steady through the tunnels. Hump’s markings kept them on route, but their numbers were too many to travel fast. And with so many injured, they best they could manage was a brisk walk. Vamir led the way, dealing with the small clusters of undead kobolds—the same dead ones they had passed on their way down. The relief was visceral when Hump saw his final chalk marking on the wall, all that remained was the long tunnel back up to the first chamber with the cages.

Suddenly, Celaine stopped. “What’s that?” she said, cocking her head to listen.

“What’s what?” Hump sighed.

“A tapping sound,” she said, confused. “It’s coming from behind us.”

Then Hump heard it too. The fast, slapping beat of wet drums echoing up the tunnel. Faster and faster, closer and closer.

“What the hell is that?” Hump asked.

Celaine glanced back and her eyes widened. “Salamanders! Everyone run!”

“Wizards bloody law,” Hump growled. “Things can never be easy. We’re taking a long day off after this. A long, long day!”