Revenge Of The Elf (Book 1) (24 page)

Had she the time to wonder at it, the elf might have shuddered at the awfulness of their final moments.

But time was something she didn't have.

All she had was the frenzied need to stay alive. And this need overwhelmed all other thoughts as their hands battered at her, clawed at her. She pushed through on a tide of rage and determination.

Stabbed anything that ventured close enough.

Sliced anything that grabbed her.

Felt a surge of horror as it seemed they just kept coming.

And coming.

Black cords weaved between the flow of violence, whipping her wrists and knotting themselves around her arms. Chewing at her skin.

She cut through these and nearly fell beneath a charging Lichspawn.

Only at the last second did
A Flaw in the Glass
plunge into the gaping maw. Rammed through the back of its mouth, and cleaved its brain. She felt the fanged mouth close over her knuckles but it had lost all power to break skin.

The elf twisted the blade and wrenched it free. Cursed as the creature dropped on top of her, its dead weight forcing her onto her back. Sprawled over her, she strained to push it off. Or to roll out from under it.

Failed.

Saw more cords sniffing the edge of the hill, snaking forward. Her blood ran cold as she tried to bring her legs up between herself and the corpse.

Air squeezed from its rotten lungs and black fluid dribbled out of its mouth to splash onto her shoulder before pooling beside her. The rancid stench made her dry retch.

But gave her the strength of desperation to lift her knees up.

Snarling, she used them to roll it off.

It flopped onto its side, dead eyes staring at her.

Powered to her knees, shaking off the awful gore on her shoulder as another wire-thin cord darted in and looped around her neck like a garrotte. It jerked hard and she lost her footing, falling backward.

Gasping for air, she tried to cut the thin cord of black, but it had taken her from behind and kept thrashing to avoid her blade. Panicked, she swiped blindly, searching, but couldn't find it.

It squeezed tighter and she felt it burn into the back of her neck. Her face purpled as she lost all ability to breathe. Panic shot showers of sparks into her mind.

“Chuk-” she managed to choke out.

Ignorant of her plight, Chukshene fended off a Lichspawn with his grimoire, pounding it in the face until it staggered backward and fell.

Lifting himself to his full height, eyes glowing bright with magic, he held his hand out toward the struggling elf. Fingers splayed. Magic bubbled from his palm as words of power tumbled across his lips like distant thunder.

The air around the warlock rippled and bent.

Then, with a loud groan, the ground heaved as though a wounded dragon writhed beneath their feet. Fathomless cracks webbed outward from the warlock's feet. Green fire roared from the depths as they ripped the ground open wide enough to swallow many of the approaching Lichspawn.

Those who kept their footing tried to dance out of the way, but demonic arms clawed up through the fire to snatch with evil scything claws which impaled the confused Lichspawn before dragging them down into the demonic heart of the warlock's spell. The gruesome sound of shredding meat and snapping bones filled the elf's ears.

It lasted for only six heartbeats, but it was long enough to leave only a few Lichspawn and a few strangled cords weaving unsteadily in their wake.

As the wounds in the earth closed with an awful grinding sound, green light flickered in the thinning cracks. One of the cracks, inches from the elf's face, spat sparks at her.

The final crunch of rock and earth slamming shut made the hill shudder and dark blood and clumps of tainted flesh gushed with a finality that made the warlock wince.

He exhaled heavily.

And then squealed as something bumped him.

Wrenched around, grimoire held high, to find the elf grabbing hold of his robe. Her face covered in thick black gore and a dark bruise was spreading quickly over her scarred cheek. Her own blood smeared across her brow.

She snagged the last remnant of a shadowy tendril from around her neck and tossed it to the ground.

And the look on her face as she stamped on it with her boot was one of bloodlust and joy.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered. “You're loving this, aren't you?”

The elf blinked, her expression twitching into impassiveness. Turning away from him, she watched a few quiet cords of black cautiously nose through the devastation as the remaining Lichspawn picked carefully up the hill.

They looked lost and confused. She wondered what kept them going. What drove them. Their desire to share their darkness with her must be powerful if it drove their hunger for flesh away.

Nysta shuddered. “Got any ideas, 'lock?”

“Give me a minute,” he said. Then shook his head. “Nope. None. You?”

“Kill them, I guess.”

“How? They keep coming.”

“Fucked if I know,” she shrugged and gave a weary grin. In the distance, she thought she could see more, dragging themselves from the cursed town. Wondered if Gaket was able to summon an endless number of them. “But we've whittled them down this far. Be a shame not to make something of it now.”

He sucked at air. “I can't believe it. The chances of so many Lich in one place were a million to one. There shouldn't be this many,” he said, echoing her thoughts. “But still, they come.”

“Ain't a war of the worlds, Chukshene,” she said cryptically while studying a bleeding wound on her wrist. It wasn't deep, but her forearm felt numb. Had one of them bitten her? “Whatever the chances are of them being here, the chances of us staying alive are probably less. That's still better than no chance at all, right?”

“Ever the optimist,” he muttered. “But there's one thing I don't get.”

“What's that?”

“You said they were tough.”

She shrugged. “That's the legend.”

“Yet they die so easily? I mean, they're so slow. So weak. Why don't they just mob us? Why come one or two at a time? We should be dead. You know it. I know it. What are they doing?”

The elf rubbed at the scar on her cheek. The same thought had been rummaging around her head, too. She thought of the expression on their faces when they died. “I reckon they were made for only one thing,” she said slowly. “To kill. But they don't want to kill me. Look at them, Chukshene. They're mindless. Only Gaket has the power to think, and he controls them in the same way the Fatman controlled his cows. Just points them in a direction and tells them to eat. It's limited because they might as well be puppets on knotted strings. But this time, the order ain't to kill. It's to capture. So, they're all fighting the instinct to kill and it makes them confused. I figure they're also tired. They're older than we can imagine. And they've had enough. Every single one of them wants to die. But first, they want to pass their darkness on.”

“I don't think that would be good for you.”

“Reckon you're right, 'lock.”

“We'll have to kill them all, then.”

“Right again. Two for two. Bit of a record for you. But it's my skin they seem to want to be in. And I don't reckon that suit's me. So I'd be real grateful to you if you killed a few more of them.”

“I'll see what I can do,” he said, though his voice was shallow as he opened the grimoire in his hands. It looked heavier and the elf wondered if the spellslinger had anything more to give.

She doubted it.

But she didn't doubt he'd done what he could and accepted he'd done more than his share.

Without a word, she leapt at the Lichspawn hauling itself over the rise.
Love Me Deeply
ripped into the bare back and
A Flaw in the Glass
followed with a vicious rush of enchanted steel.

The creature gave a wretched twitch and collapsed in the snow.

Tugging the blades free, she cut herself free from two grasping cords gripping her leg. Rolled away.

And was thrown to the ground by a second Lichspawn pouncing on her like a mountain cat. Caught off guard, the elf slammed hard to the ground, her shoulder absorbing most of the impact.

The pain exploded across her back and shoulder and for a moment, she thought her arm had shattered under the impact. Bruises were growing over the top of other bruises, she thought grimly. If she survived, she was going to feel like shit for days.

Sucking air in pain, the elf shook her head to clear the stunned fog and batted at the clawed hand wrapping around a fistful of her jacket.

Shakily, she made it to her knees in time to get a fist smashed hard into her forehead. Snapped her head back. Her blood spattered over the creature's chest and it let out a thin hoot of triumph.

With her arms moving as though made of rubber, the elf wriggled desperately in the creature's impassive grip.

The ghostly white face loomed in front of her, black pitiful eyes burning with desperate need. Its jaws slack and drooling thickly stained spit.

Horrified, she lunged, even as it used its implacable strength to try and slam her to the ground for the circling black cords to savage.

And she felt it happen before it did.

Could see it as though gifted with the prophetic powers of a direwitch.

Her jacket tore.

And Talek's box, freed from its hiding place, flew into the air on the force of the violent rip of wyrmskin.

The box bounced once in the bloodstained snow.

Twice.

And was still.

Letting out an anguished cry, she struggled in the Lichspawn's unrelenting grasp. A thick cord of black chose that moment to snap around her waist and clamp tight.

Her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to focus. When they flashed open only a second later, they burned with hate.

A Flaw in the Glass
stabbed upward, penetrating the Lichspawn's lower jaw before angling savagely into its brain with a steely howl. The venomous green glow flared bright enough to light up the flesh from beneath its skin. It writhed on the blade and the elf answered the creature's howl with one of her own.
 

Tearing the blade free shattered the jaw and half the creature's awful face fell off its skull like a wet mask as she kicked the Lichspawn away.

Love Me Deeply
sliced brutally through the cord around her waist, the cord fragmenting before it could drill more than a half-inch into her flesh. Spots of blood followed the shards to the ground.
 

Heedless of her new wounds, she dove toward Talek's box with her heart so loud in her ears she could hear nothing else.

Not even the Lichspawn which seemed to appear from nowhere to swipe at her leg and drag her back into the snow.

Her hand shot out, fumbling in the ice.

Talek's box was too far away.

Almost sobbing in frustration, she looked down, saw the Lichspawn wrapped firmly around her boot. Its misshapen head looked up at her with darkly burning eyes and the elf was struck by the sorrow she felt buried inside its expression. As though the weariness of living so long had given it a sadness which was almost palpable.

She thought briefly of what she'd told the warlock, and her heart skipped a beat.

But any sympathy she may have felt was quickly lost as she realised it was trying to keep her pinned while the cords of black circled like sharks, looking for an opening.

Grunting, she kicked out with her free leg, caving in half its jaw with her heel. Bone fragments and black rot dribbled down its chin.

But it held fast.

Her eyes sought out the warlock. Couldn't find him. Her voice came out in a choked gasp; “Chuk-”

She kicked it again.

It refused to let go, its empty gaze only reinforcing its determination. It made a coughing noise as it spat blood and broken teeth. Yanked her leg to pull her toward it, away from the box.

A drumming sound bubbled in her ears. She couldn't identify it.

Suddenly frantic, the elf clawed the earth, trying to get away from the stubborn grip. Lost
Love Me Deeply
in the process. Her fingers slapped at the ground, trying to locate the handle, but the blade skittered out of reach.  
 

“-shene. Where the fuck are you?”

He didn't answer.

Her eyes lost sight of Talek's box in the snow.

Panic skewered her spine and she was overcome with the fear of failure. That she was about to lose everything.

That the Bloody Nine would escape.

That the black cords would worm their way inside her and fill her with their dark curse.

That Talek's box would be lost.

And losing it was the one thing she couldn't bear most of all. The box was the only thing she had left to remind her of how much Talek trusted her.

How much he loved her.

His smile filled her mind and the icy ball of fear rolling in her guts was so cold it was like glass. Sharp. She could feel it cutting through her belly and shredding her insides until she couldn't take it anymore.

“No!” she twisted in its grasp. Kicked it in the face while her fingers clawed at the ground. Snow drank greedily from the fresh wounds as her fingertips were torn open.

But the Lichspawn was strong. Slowly, but certainly, it dragged her closer toward the waiting cords gathering at the lip of the hill.

She kicked again. Its nose evaporated, spearing across its cheeks like black mould. She half expected maggots to squirm from the tainted flesh.

The ball of icy horror spun like a dice in her guts.

Again.

Its jaw shattered completely under the heel of her boot. Ripped off the side of its skull, it took half its tongue with it to the ground between them. Its shredded face horribly disfigured, the creature might have screamed. But all she heard was a bubbling gurgle from the back of its throat.

The ice in her guts shattered. In its place, rage ignited, burning her heart and filling her mind with a cry of defiance.

“Let fucking go!”

Raised her leg and brought it down with all her strength. Her boot disintegrated the Lichspawn's skull and pulverised its brain. The strong stench of rotten meat filled her nostrils but her veins were filling her with molten hate so she felt only a triumphant thrill of satisfaction as she jerked her trapped leg free.