Frostborn: The Eightfold Knife (29 page)

“Done,” said Gavin, stepping away. 

Calliande opened her eyes. “That itches more than I expect. I can only imagine how it feels with beard stubble. How do I look?”

“Positively ghastly,” said Gavin. 

“Good,” said Calliande. She smiled. “But you probably shouldn’t say that to women very often.”

Gavin laughed. “I will heed your counsel.” His laughter faded. “And I shall think upon what you have said, about other matters.”

“You should,” said Calliande. “I will not tell you what to do. But one of the advantages of being young is that there is still time to learn from the mistakes of your elders.” 

“That sounds,” said Gavin, “that sounds…wise.”

“Perhaps it is,” said Calliande. “But if your elders are wise, it is only because we ignored our own elders and made grievous mistakes of our own.”

Gavin laughed, as did Calliande, but her face grew grave.

“Magistria?” he said.

“Have you ever heard of a place called Dragonfall?” said Calliande.

Gavin shook his head. “I haven’t. What is it? A castle?”

“I don’t know,” said Calliande. “I don’t know what it is, or where it is. Only that my staff is there, and I need to find it. And that losing it might have been the biggest mistake I ever made.” 

Gavin didn’t know what any of that meant.

“I’m sure,” he said at last, “that you’ll be able to find it again.”

“I hope you are right,” said Calliande.

Leaves rustled, and Ridmark and Kharlacht returned.

Calliande smiled at Ridmark. “How do I look?” 

“Like someone I would not want to meet on a dark night,” said Ridmark. “Which I suppose is the point. We will strike tonight. Two fresh patrols of arachar came from the gates, six each. The lupivirii dealt with them, but I suspect Morwen is growing suspicious that the first patrol hasn’t returned.”

“Just as well, then,” said Kharlacht. “Twelve fewer arachar we shall have to fight.” 

Ridmark nodded. “Prepare yourselves. As soon as the sun goes down, we’re heading for Urd Arowyn.”

Gavin gripped his sword hilt again, the worn leather rough beneath his fingers, and thought of his father.

Chapter 18 - The Consort

Ridmark stopped at the base of the waterfall, the spray damp against his face. Five of the thirteen moons threw an eerie blue glow over everything. It was brighter than he would have preferred, but the illumination would make it easier to fight.

And easier for the beastmen to hunt their prey through the streets of Urd Arowyn. 

He looked back at the others. Calliande walked behind him, hood drawn up over her head, the fake scars crimson against her pale face. Kharlacht waited behind her, grim and silent in his dark elven armor. Then followed Brother Caius, draped in his friar’s robe. Disguising him would have been useless, as there were no dwarves among either the arachar or the slaves. If questioned, Ridmark would claim he was a prisoner they had found wandering the woods. 

Gavin came in the back, his face solemn and tired, hand resting on his sword hilt. 

“Remember,” said Ridmark. “No talking until we reach the interior of Urd Arowyn. I want to get past the male urdmordar without rousing the creature. Once inside the ruins, if we are separated, find the storehouses and start lighting them ablaze. Any questions?”

No one had any.

“Then,” said Caius, “may God go with us, and lend strength to our arms, for surely our cause is as righteous as any upon the earth.”

“Let us hope that God agrees with you,” said Ridmark.

They went over the slick path, behind the waterfall, and into the cave. The white stairs climbed into the darkness, the steps littered with long-dead bones. As far as Ridmark could tell, no one had come this way since they had departed last night. Gavin lit a torch, the firelight throwing dancing shadows across the walls. 

They climbed the stairs and came to the corridor of white stone, the walls still lined with webs, long-dead corpses dangling from the ceiling. Ridmark led the way and the others followed in single file, making sure to keep well away from the web-mantled walls. His eyes scanned the shadowy darkness for any sign of threat, and his ears strained for any hint of attackers.

But he heard and saw no signs of danger.

He stopped before the stairs leading up to the male urdmordar’s chamber, took a few breaths to steady himself, and then climbed the steps, moving with as much stealth as he could manage. Kharlacht and Caius and Gavin had their weapons ready, while Calliande held her hands up, ready to summon magic.

Ridmark stepped into the lofty hall, the withered corpses caught in the strands of the webs like long-dead flies. The male urdmordar clung halfway up the wall near the archway to the next corridor, his human-shaped torso limp, his eyes closed. The creature was utterly motionless. The urdmordar looked dead, but Ridmark knew that the creatures only needed to breathe every few days or so.

He beckoned with his staff, and the others followed him.

They had made it halfway across the chamber when the urdmordar lifted his head, all eight of his green eyes shining with their own eerie green glow.

###

Calliande froze beneath the weight of the male urdmordar’s gaze.

The urdmordar’s attention had a weight to it, a dark and heavy power. She felt a faint pressure upon her temples, and she realized that it was the urdmordar’s telepathic power, the sheer might of the creature’s will. Even male urdmordar, for all their lack of intelligence, possessed mighty wills.

The knowledge ought to have harkened her. It proved she had faced the urdmordar before and survived, sometime in the mists of her past.

But her skin crawled with revulsion and fear as the predator upon the wall started to move with slow, languid grace. She heard a rumbling, rasping voice, far deeper than any human or orcish or dwarven voice, and realized the urdmordar was speaking.

She felt the harsh telepathic pressure of his words throb against her temples.

“I smelled it,” he said, his head turning back and forth. “Yes. I woke up and smelled smoke. I could not remember why. Nothing down here burns. Then I remembered. The herd animals.” His pincers clicked. “The cattle need light to see. That meant herd animals had been down here.” He sounded almost absurdly pleased with himself for figuring it out. “The mistress will be wroth. The cattle are not to come down here. They are not.”

Calliande started to summon power for a spell, but Ridmark stepped forward.

“I salute your wisdom, consort of the great goddess Agrimnalazur,” he said with a bow. The urdmordar’s eyes fixed upon him. “We are the chosen servants of the goddess, and she has sent us here with an urgent task.”

“She has?” said the male urdmordar. Had the urdmordar been human, Calliande suspected he would have been blinking stupidly. 

“She sent us to spy upon her foes,” said Ridmark, “and to return in secret, lest anyone learn of our presence. I pray let us pass, my lord consort, that we might bring news to the ears of great Agrimnalazur.” 

The urdmordar went utterly motionless.

“Yes,” said the creature at last. “Yes, that makes sense. The mistress is always doing many clever things. They make my head hurt.”

Calliande felt a surge of relief.

“But you are lying,” said the male urdmordar. “You do not smell like the blood of the mistress, and all the mistress’s servants partake of her blood. Also, I can hear your thoughts, and you are lying. Which means I shall devour you all.”

The urdmordar hurtled forward with inhuman speed.

###

Ridmark flung himself to the side as the urdmordar thundered towards him in a crimson blur. 

It almost wasn’t enough. 

The urdmordar’s armored legs slashed towards him. Ridmark whipped his staff up at the last moment, deflecting the claws from his throat. But he could not match the urdmordar’s terrible strength, and while the claws missed his face, the creature’s front two legs slammed across his chest. The blow blasted the breath from Ridmark’s lungs and threw him backwards. He hit the ground a dozen paces away, stunned.

The urdmordar raced towards him and reared up, claws preparing to plunge into Ridmark’s chest.

White light flashed, and a blast of brilliant flame arced across the chamber and struck the urdmordar. The creature bellowed in fury and pain, and Ridmark saw Calliande standing with her hands spread, the power of her magic flaring around her fingers. 

Ridmark staggered to his feet, leaving his staff upon the floor. The weapon was useless against the armored chitin of the urdmordar’s carapace. He yanked the orcish war axe from his belt, the haft heavy and smooth beneath his fingers, and prepared to charge the before the urdmordar recovered from Calliande’s attack. 

But the urdmordar turned and raced at Calliande.

###

Calliande summoned more power, white fire blazing around her hands as she prepared to fling another spell at the male urdmordar. 

But it would not be enough.

The creature was hideously fast, so fast his armored body moved in a crimson blur. The urdmordar lunged at her, and Calliande knew that she would not be able to work a spell in time. 

Then Kharlacht and Caius shouted, and the orc and the dwarf attacked the urdmordar from the right and the left. Caius’s dwarven mace did not penetrate the thick chitin of the urdmordar’s legs, but the strength of his blows rocked the creature. Kharlacht’s dark elven greatsword sheared through one of the urdmordar’s right legs. The clawed tip clattered to the ground, leaking thick black ichor. 

“You cut me!” roared the urdmordar. “Now I am angry!” 

The urdmordar whirled, clawed legs stabbing down, and drove his talons into Kharlacht’s chest. Kharlacht’s armor turned aside the razor edges, but the force of the impact drove him to the floor. Caius clubbed the urdmordar again, his mace bouncing off the urdmordar’s left flank, but the creature hardly seemed to feel the blows. The massive legs flexed, and Caius went skidding across the floor.

The urdmordar turned towards Calliande, and she tried to focus enough power for a spell.

Gavin yelled and attacked, shield raised, sword drawn back. He stabbed with all his strength, driving his orcish sword into the urdmordar’s abdomen. The blade sank a foot into the urdmordar’s carapace, black slime bubbling from the wound. The urdmordar looked at him, pincers snapping, and lashed out with an arm. Gavin stumbled back, his weapon still buried in the urdmordar’s exoskeleton. 

But he had given Calliande the time she needed to finish her spell. 

She thrust her arms out, and white fire poured from her palms and sank into the urdmordar. The creature screamed, legs lashing at the floor, pincers snapping with fury. A Magistria could only use her power to defend, to learn, and to communicate, never to harm another mortal. But the urdmordar were immortals, were predators that delighted in tormenting the innocent.

She could unleash her power against them without mercy, without scruple.

Calliande poured all her strength into the spell.

But it was not enough.

Step by step the urdmordar dragged himself towards her, his clawed legs clicking against the stone floor. Her spell left smoking burns across his carapace, the hideous stench of charred chitin filling the vault. But still the urdmordar came for her, like a man walking into a strong wind. 

She was not strong enough to stop him. 

###

Ridmark gripped the axe in his left hand and ran at the male urdmordar.

The creature’s full attention was on Calliande. An inferno of white flame burst from her hands and slammed into the urdmordar, but he shrugged off the burns. The urdmordar moved closer to her, and soon would be near enough to strike. 

Ridmark grabbed the back of the urdmordar’s thorax. The crimson chitin felt icy cold beneath his fingers, and he heaved himself onto the urdmordar’s back. Calliande’s white flames billowed around him, but left him untouched. Her spell would harm creatures of dark magic, but not living mortals. 

Though Ridmark might not remain living much longer.

The urdmordar felt his presence, the human-shaped torso turning to face him.

Ridmark dashed across the urdmordar’s back with two steps and swung his axe with both hands.

He felt the blade land, and then the urdmordar’s fist struck his stomach, throwing him to the floor.

###

Gavin groaned and got to one knee. 

His chest burned from the urdmordar’s blow, and he feared he had broken a rib. He looked for his sword, saw it jutting from the urdmordar’s abdomen, just below the creature’s human-shaped torso. 

A weapon, he needed a weapon. Did one of the withered corpses have a weapon? Perhaps…

He saw Ridmark standing on the urdmordar’s back, and then he went flying, tumbling across the floor. 

The urdmordar twitched, legs writhing and jerking. Calliande poured more white fire into the creature, and Gavin saw something jutting from the back of the urdmordar’s head, black ichor dripping down the crimson carapace.

Ridmark’s axe.  

The urdmordar twitched once more, and then fell over.

###

Calliande lowered her hands with a sigh, the fire winking out, her head ringing with the effort of wielding so much magic. 

The telepathic weight of the urdmordar faded from her thoughts. 

The creature was indeed dead.

She blinked at the sudden gloom. The fury of her magic had lit up the hall, but now that it was gone, the only light came from Gavin’s dropped torch. The boy picked up his torch, wincing, and Caius walked closer, mace still hand.

“Is it dead?” Gavin whispered. 

“Aye,” said Caius. “An axe to the brain will kill almost anything.” 

“Except a female urdmordar,” said Calliande. One male urdmordar had almost killed them all. What would happen if Agrimnalazur took a hand in the coming fight?

She pushed aside the fear. It was too late to turn back now.