Forge of Ashes Read online

  Twenty duergar had transformed since the start of the attack, doubling themselves and their equipment in size. They bellowed as the ground shuddered beneath them. This change must've enhanced their strength as well, for they swept aside xulgaths and stomped several flat at a time. Even as Ondorum watched, though, one of these fell to xulgaths who converged on him from every direction. As the duergar's eyes dulled, his form shrank back to normal, and he lay in a growing pool of black blood.

  A handful of xulgaths stood out from the rest. They remained further back from the fight, closer to the tunnels where they'd emerged. These displayed an assortment of fetishes—strings of metal and bone—and had sharp bones thrust through their arms and bare chests. To Ondorum's eyes, the whorled designs painted on their long faces suggested more of an arcane purpose than decorative. Each held some sort of wand or staff, which they waved about or thumped on the earth in a jerking rhythm.

  In time with these rituals, bolts of bruise-colored power lanced out from pointed claws, striking duergar and their minions. Those hit fell in sprays of blood, or stumbled and began retching. Other shamans waved their bones, and the targets of their magic stood stunned or turned their weapons on allies they'd fought beside just before. Wagons burst aflame, scattering cargo and riders alike.

  Ondorum looked to the base of the wall. The gates. He had to find a way to open the gates, otherwise everyone would be slaughtered.

  He gauged the height of the arch above the gates, built to allow the passage of creatures much taller than a duergar. As he did, he noticed an even more horrible sight. A pair of xulgath shamans raised bone staffs above their heads and cried out in the culmination of an unknown spell, and below their feet, the stone swirled and cracked, detaching from the rest of the wall. The shards of stone formed into two earth elementals with emeralds for eyes. They stood no bigger than the xulgaths themselves—certainly nothing compared to the elemental he'd communed with in the cave. Nevertheless, they proved effective enough. One began tearing rubble from the wall and flinging it into the masses below. The other dove into the rock, reappearing on the ground by bursting up among a group of fighters and spraying shards in all directions.

  Ondorum marked the summoners' position. He would not stand to see the earth itself a slave to these foul creatures. At the same time, he knew he needed to get the gates—or at least one of them—open. Not only would it let the surviving slaves flee to freedom, but his companions could reach the tunnel they needed on the other side. He could try to reach Akina and Izthuri and escape back the way they'd come, but what purpose would that serve? If the xulgaths kept the gates closed, there might not be another way to reach their destination.

  He eyed the metal spikes that lined the curve of the gate archway, down to the ground. Readying his staff, he sprinted for the lowest spike.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  With a bone-trembling roar, Akina mashed the xulgath to the earth with her maulaxe. She dodged another strike and then hacked a scaly head in half with a single blow. Izthuri fought by her side, dancing through the xulgaths. Her unearthly blade slit throats, slashed off limbs, and sliced stomachs wide. Every so often, she conjured one of her shadow clouds over a swath of the battlefield and darted inside. When the cloud dispersed, several of the beasts lay dead, and she danced on.

  Sweat already drenched Akina's face and poured down the inside of her armor. Claws raked across her chest, and one xulgath grabbed her helm from behind and tried to yank it off. She rammed an elbow into its stomach and turned to drive the axe wedge straight into its heart. Lowering her head, she dashed forward and took another xulgath in the gut with her ram's horns, smashing it up against the side of a wagon—just as the cart burst into purple flames.

  Snarling, she reeled from the blaze. These brutes had casters? Guess it figured they'd need some of their kind with more brains than brawn to coordinate this ambush. She looked around for the magic-users. A few xulgaths danced in place on the sidelines, shaking bone totems and staffs as they called upon whatever power they served.

  She charged for the nearest one, bulling or knocking aside any xulgath that got in her path. The shaman must've seen her coming, for it paused in its frenetic hopping and pointed a claw at her.

  Akina threw herself behind a pile of bodies. The earth blew apart in a swirl of chaotic color where she'd just been. As rock pattered down around her, Akina wiped across her face to clear the sweat dripping into her eyes. Then she looked to the side and found a duergar merchant huddled beside her. He clutched a dagger and peered at any nearby threats. When he returned her gaze, his gray eyes narrowed, and then popped wide again. Akina frowned, but then looked at her glove, which was smeared with purple-gray dye.

  The merchant stumbled to his feet, trying to position his blade, but she beat him to it, standing and swinging up and over to mash him back down. Something moved behind her, and she spun, but checked her swing to avoid hitting Izthuri. The caligni waggled fingers at her face. Akina shrugged. Nothing to be done at this point but hope the frenzy of battle kept folks from noticing a little longer.

  "Get to Ondorum," she shouted, aiming for where they'd last seen the slavers.

  With Izthuri bringing up the rear, Akina rammed xulgaths aside, trampled over more, and cut others down as they lunged for her with claws and fangs extended. Sensing a danger from above, she jumped to the right just as a xulgath fell from nowhere to dash itself to mush.

  The ground to their left exploded, throwing her aside as earthen fragments pelted the area and people. An earth elemental, little bigger than herself, rose into sight, and green flames lit in its emerald eyes. When it began attacking nearby duergar, she realized it must've been summoned by the xulgaths. Tricky bastards. What else did they have planned?

  Izthuri appeared before her and offered a hand. Akina surprised herself by accepting, and the caligni hauled her up with unexpected strength. They barreled on. Arrows with stone heads struck around them. Beside her, a duergar fell when a bone spear sprouted from his eye. A rock whizzed past her head, and then another clanged off her helm.

  Yelling against the odds, the pair sped up until they struck a line of xulgaths. They burst through, sending the beasts scattering, to see the rightmost gate. The two duergar slavers lay dead while their line of tattered ones cowered by the gate. Some of them had been cut down, leaving half a dozen chained to their mutilated kin. Akina tracked to the end of the line and saw a broken chain. Ondorum must've sprung himself early when the fighting started. A glance around revealed a measure of his handiwork in the felled xulgaths littering the area. Figured.

  Then where...

  Instinct made her look up.

  The monk leapt from a thrusting rock to a metal spike. Chains still dangled from his neck, wrists, and ankles, but he balanced briefly before using an iron staff to shove off and soar up another length of stone toward the lowest walkway. She called after him, but doubted even her roaring voice could reach him above the clamor. With another leap, he disappeared over the edge.

  Growling, Akina turned to find something to kill. The xulgath sprinting her way looked obliging enough. After dispatching it, she saw how the caravan numbers had dwindled. The xulgaths ran amok through groups of defenders who'd lost their centralized defensive position. Despite their own numerous dead, the reptiles appeared to not lack reinforcements, nor did their own losses dishearten them any or lessen their bestial attacks. Their shamans continued to chant around the edges, striking down unsuspecting fighters from afar and breaking up the earth underneath. They also cast their unholy magic over their own kind, sealing otherwise mortal wounds, shielding xulgaths from attacks by the enlarged duergar, or bolstering them with surges of power that drove them into ever-rising frenzies.

  A set of three duergar had gathered near the other side of the tunnel and stood back-to-back. They wore crimson robes trimmed with black and had hands raised in a mutual chant. Icy lances thrust up from the earth, spearing xulgaths on all sides. Holes opened in the earth and swallo
wed screaming reptiles. Xulgaths that got too close struck an invisible barrier and were flung away by a spray of lightning. It didn't look like the duergar had singled out the opposing casters yet, though, being too busy defending themselves.

  Akina drew Izthuri's attention to the duergar casters. Though the words burned like acid on her tongue, she said,"Got to help them."

  Izthuri waggled fingers at her face again, denoting her failing disguise. Scowling, Akina ran over to one of the duergar slaver corpses and swiped her hand through the blood running thick from the wound in his skull. She slathered this over her face, and then waved for Izthuri to follow.

  Whatever Ondorum intended, he better see it done quick.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Desperate Means

  Ondorum rolled as he struck the walkway, chains bruising him as they ground against the stone. He channeled the pain aside as he rose and oriented himself. Two xulgath archers spotted him and turned their bows. His staff struck aside one arrow and smacked the xulgath from its perch in the next instant. The second didn't have a chance to even nock the crooked arrow in its hand before it sailed after its companion. A xulgath warrior in duergar armor appeared on the ledge above and jumped down, axe poised. Ondorum raised his staff, catching the axe between shaft and blade. However, the edge still slammed into the crisscross of the chains on his arms, making the barbs squeeze around his throat. Thrusting the blade away dug the points in further, and trickles of blood flowed over his shoulders.

  He sidestepped two more axe cuts before kicking past the xulgath's guard and sending the creature clattering off several spikes below, then ran across the ledge and through the doorway at one end. The tumult of battle dulled as he charged into the depths of the structure. Within the wall, steel paths and steps led in several directions. Xulgath shrieks echoed and talons scraped along metal as several of the creatures raced down the hall he'd just entered.

  In the narrower confines, he couldn't maneuver the staff as freely. Instead, he used it as a spear, jabbing the xulgaths back and crushing them against the walls. He took every downward set of stairs, searching for any gate control mechanism. The wall structure broadened as he went lower, and side rooms revealed little more than guard bunks and storerooms. He found one room filled with duergar bodies, presumably those stationed there before the xulgaths overwhelmed them. Some of them had been stripped to smallclothes, while others had armor still buckled on. Moving on, he found an armory in disarray, racks and stacks overturned, weapons scattered all about. A large crate sat in one corner, its lid tossed aside to reveal stacks of gleaming tubes.

  Though time was short, Ondorum ducked into the room and inspected the crate further. The tubes looked familiar. Each had a waxy length of cord running from one end, with several tubes knotted to form bundles. He picked one tube up and sniffed at it. The smoky smell drew a vivid recollection to the surface of his mind.

  During his time at the monastery, certain holy days had been celebrated with nonmagical devices called fireworks, which created all manner of explosive color and noise. The monastery masters had been gifted with a large number of them during a visit by peers from Tian Xia. Curious, he'd tried to watch as they arranged them to launch from the walls. The operators had shooed him away, but not before he noted the metal and parchment tubes with fuses much like these. He didn't think the duergar used them to celebrate holidays, especially in such a remote outpost, but perhaps they'd constructed similar devices and used them for mining, clearing tunnels, or as a form of weaponry.

  Even so, he had no idea what to expect if he lit one. Leaving the armory, he descended a few more levels, running from end to end on each. A few more xulgaths opposed him as he went, but he struck them down with kicks and staff strikes.

  Then he found a large chamber filled with a giant gear assembly, fed into by four enormous chains that shot out into channels carved in the walls. Smaller chains trailed down into the floor. These must lead to the gate mechanism, with controls in the chamber below. Heart flaring with hope, Ondorum found the next set of stairs and flew down them. The hall cut along to a chamber where a swirl of green-and-yellow lights flared within. As he approached this room, the elemental magic he'd invested in his staff ran out. It shrank back into a simple chain link, which he tucked into his loincloth for later.

  The chamber looked like it had once been used as a meeting room, with several limestone tables and dozens of chairs set about. A door at the far end suggested the gate controls waited beyond.

  The furnishings had been pushed to the sides, making room for the largest xulgath he'd seen yet. A good head taller than him, with broad shoulders and massive thighs, it wore a horned, painted skull on its head, and a brown cape draped over its hunched back. One gnarled claw held a spear topped with a fresh duergar head. The shaman's eyes glowed green with power as it stooped and drew glowing runes on the chamber floor. Three other xulgath shamans stood around it, channeling purple rays from their claws into a knot of energy twisting above the one in the center.

  Ondorum could sense the sickening power being wielded from where he stood. Did this empower the rest of the shamans outside the wall? Was this a summoning ceremony of sorts, intended to bring a fiend to the battlefront? The purpose didn't matter. Only stopping them did.

  He gripped the chain that ran between his wrists. Sprinting into the chamber, he caught the near xulgath across the throat, wrapped the chain around and yanked in opposite directions. A snap, and the beast went limp. The other two smaller ones screeched at him. The purple auras faded from their hands as they gesticulated wildly to cast new spells.

  One conjured a brilliant crystal that hurt his eyes to look at. He tilted a shoulder to let the missile fly past, and it shattered behind him, unleashing a chaotic flash of color. His fist drove deep into the shaman's chest before it could cast again.

  A shard of the same energy caught him in the side. The force flipped him around and slammed him into a wall. Sucking in a breath, he shoved up to kneeling—and then dropped flat as another spell flashed by.

  Somersaulting backward, he came up onto his feet. He grabbed the arm of a nearby limestone chair, spun, and flung it at the smaller shaman. The creature's spell cut off as it ducked. However, the larger shaman smacked the chair down with the spear, scattering chunks and shards. Ondorum had followed the chair's flight and vaulted the spear. He scooped up a long shard and rammed it through the third shaman's neck. Its last spell died in a gurgle and spray of blood.

  He turned as the large xulgath's spear jabbed at him. Random colors writhed over the weapon, and the stone furniture and floor cracked and crumbled wherever the tip struck. Ondorum eluded several attacks, looking for an opening. With a screech, the shaman lunged at him, spear lashing out while its free claw flared with purple light. The oread evaded the spear once more, but the claw pointed at him and a beam of energy lanced out, striking his gut.

  Nausea swept through his being, stronger than he'd ever felt before. Ondorum stumbled and fought for balance. He wavered, the room swimming in his vision, his stomach clenching. The very fabric of his being seized up.

  Hissing in laughter, the shaman thrust the spear at Ondorum's heart.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  Akina tried to focus as the stench of duergar blood filled her nostrils. It made her want to howl and lose herself in the joy of dismemberment and scream along with the music of grinding bones and popping ligaments. The embers in her gut, having simmered for so long, yearned to burst into flame.

  She astonished herself by holding it at bay, keeping her thoughts intact a little longer. She and Izthuri approached the duergar casters, hacking and slicing and hammering their way through the xulgaths who tried to down the wizards. A minute of breathless fighting later, and they'd cleared the area of any immediate threat, though plenty of xulgaths closed in. Akina turned to the casters, keeping her distance so she didn't end up shocking herself on whatever barrier they'd erected.

  Twisting her face up and praying the bloo
d hid her features well enough, she caught the casters' eyes. She pointed out the xulgath shamans, shook her maulaxe, and roared. While they initially looked confused at her wordless instruction, they held a hurried consultation. When icy missiles flew from their fingertips once more, they soared out and struck one of the shamans, spearing it with icicles. Akina yelled again in approval and then whirled to keep the xulgaths off the casters until they could even the odds. Izthuri popped in and out of the fight, striking down a reptile or two and then whirling away to blend into the shadows.

  Akina cast an eye toward the wall and its gates, looking for some sign of Ondorum. She had to refocus to avoid letting a xulgath ram a bone knife into one of her eyes. The fury called to her in a hiss of steam, begging her to unleash it. To become wrath incarnate.

  Akina's voice thundered, defying the xulgaths she struck down and the idea of surrendering to anyone, even herself.

  Not yet. Not yet...

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  As the spear came at him, Ondorum breathed in. The motion of the spear slowed as he visualized the orb of golden power at his core swelling. Cords of energy reached out, knotting through his flesh, fighting to restore him. He envisioned that central orb as being cupped in his hands, its purifying power going where he wished it. He coursed it through himself, touching every last portion of his mind, body, and spirit. The energy couldn't abide the imperfections inflicted on him and filled them in, restoring his balance. At the apex of his indrawn breath, he stood whole once more, with even the minor wounds erased from his skin.

  The golden orb faded, leaving a core of stone.

  He breathed out.

  The spear sped up. He side-stepped and it thrust past. The shaman stumbled, its head lowered, horned skull helmet coming within reach. Ondorum grabbed two of the larger horns and wrenched them down. The shaman staggered and tried to claw at him once more. His knee cracked up under its chin, and then his foot caught the creature's forearm and stomped it to the ground.