points.
The startled fighters fell back, only to be urged forward by Stunk's bellow of rage as he recognized the old nobleman swirling through his guards.
'Keep fighting, you stinking cowards!' Stunk roared. 'Catch him! Kill him!'
The fat man rocked back and forth in his agitation, his meaty hands chopping at the air as if he could beat Lord Adarbrent down himself. At the same time, the greasy merchant stayed well behind his men and made no actual attempt to join the fight.
Lord Adarbrent moved too quickly for Stunk's fighters. He teased them with thrusts and backward steps, drawing the conflict ever farther away from the center of the courtyard and closer to the street-side gate.
The rest of the Carvers, recognizing their noble friend, rushed to his aid.
'Now,' Sophraea said to Gustin.
They darted across the yard. Gustin flung open the door to Astute's workshop. A startled kitten gave a mew of protest and dashed under the workbench.
In the center of the room, the statue lay upon the table. Astute had done exactly as he had promised. The stone man looked real. Faint lines creased the corners of its eyes, the veins across the back of its hands showed clearly, even the skin of the face and neck that showed above the elaborate armor had the pores of a living man.
'It's wonderful,' breathed Gustin. 'Look at the grip that he's got on that sword. Just as if he was struck down in battle. Your father is a genius! It would have been my very best hoax ever!'
'Hurry!' Sophraea urged him. Peeping around the workshop door, she could see that Lord Adarbrent and the younger Carvers aiding him had managed to drive Stunk's men back against the street-side gate.
But none of Stunk's men pushed back. With Lord Adarbrent in the fight, his opponents drew knives and swords, ready to use the cutting edge against the old nobleman and any who defended him.
When one fighter thrust at Lord Adarbrent with a naked blade,
Cadriffle gave a great cry and smashed down his mallet, shattering the sword with a well-struck blow.
In numbers, Stunk's men and the Carvers were evenly matched, but Sophraea could see that the rich merchant's private soldiers held the advantage in armor and weapons. Luck, so far, had favored her brothers and her cousins, but not even men of their size could hope to prevail forever against so many.
'Hurry,' she said again to Gustin.
Beside her, Gustin held open his guidebook, the illusion of a map slowly dissolving to reveal the spells and rituals hidden beneath. He began to chant, a deep sound like the boom of a bronze bell. His voice rolled through the workshop. The kittens yowled in their basket. Astute's chisels and mallets rattled on their hooks.
As before, a red glow infused the wizard's frame, illuminating the workshop. Ordinary things, iron nails and empty jars, shone in the shadowy corners of the room.
At the center of Gustin's spell, the stone statue glowed. Light poured from the wizard to the statue until the shimmering ball of magic completely cocooned it.
And then, between Sophraea's inhale and exhale of wonder, the light winked out.
The kittens still howled under the workshop bench. Gustin slumped, his lax hands nearly dropping his precious spellbook. The ordinary gloom of twilight once again filled the workshop.
'Did it work?' Sophraea whispered, unable to speak any louder, nearly strangled by excitement and worry. The statue lay inert upon the table. If the spell had failed, they would have no choice but to try to end the curse without its aid. And that, Lord Adarbrent had sworn, meant certain death for someone.
Gustin raised his head slowly, as if the weight was almost too much for his neck to bear. But the grin that he gave her was as cocky as ever.
'It really is my best magic,' he declared in triumph.
With ponderous motion and a sound like the grinding of a millstone, the statue slowly rose from the table. Two stone feet landed with a thump upon the floor. With a solid tread, the statue marched toward the workshop door.
Gustin pulled the brocade shoe out of his belt and thrust it at the statue. 'Take it,' he commanded. 'Return it to the Markarl tomb.'
The statue gave no response. Gustin went closer, circled the stone man, and pushed the shoe between its hip and its hand. The beautifully carved fingers were slightly curled to look natural. The little shoe glittered in the stone grasp.
'Does it know what it carries? Will it know to put it inside the tomb?' Sophraea asked.
Gustin shrugged. 'I have never asked one of them to do anything more than walk.'
Sophraea bit back her doubts. They had no other choice.
She flung the door wide open. The stone warrior stomped past her into the courtyard.
'Go on!' Gustin shouted at his creation. 'That way. To the City of the Dead!'
Outside, the fighting continued. Lord Adarbrent still held off Stunk's men, but the old nobleman had been forced back to the center of the courtyard.
Even as the statue stomped toward the gate into the City of the Dead, the denizens of the graveyard began to overrun the Carvers attempting to block the graveyard gate.
One particularly ambitious corpse knight rode his skeletal horse up the mossy stairs leading to Dead End House.
Halfway through the gate, the ghastly equine opened its mandible in a silent scream. The heavy hooves skidded on the steps leading out of the City of the Dead. uuuumhiii jujiuu
Slowly, surely, the creature slid backward to the confusion of its rider, which twisted its skull completely round on its shoulders to see what the problem was.
'Ho! Starting a fight without me! I don't think so!' yelled Leaplow from behind the horse's hindquarters.
Black-and-blue but grinning widely, Sophraea's enormous brother gathered up the heavy skirts of the skeleton horse's armor and dragged it out of the gate.
The knight fought to turn the horse, but Leaplow's grip was too strong. For the moment, the dead warrior, his horse, and Leaplow blocked the gate leading into the Dead End courtyard and kept the other dead from entering.
The booming tread of the statue crossing the courtyard startled all the combatants. Everyone turned to watch Gustin's stone fighter stride toward the graveyard gate.
Stunk's men broke off their attack of Lord Adarbrent and stood openmouthed.
'Stop him,' the fat man screamed. 'You'll all be street beggars if you don't stop him!'
His men hesitated and then raised their weapons and circled the stone man. One slashed at the statue with his short sword. The blade shattered on the granite head and the statue marched on.
'Clubs!' Stunk screamed. 'Mallets! Don't use your blades, you idiots!'
'Wood,' someone shouted and they all raced to pick up anything that could be used as a club. 'Rocks,' yelled another.
The courtyard was littered with building materials. Armed with boards and stone urns, Stunk's men faced back toward the walking statue.
'Don't let them smash it!' screamed Sophraea.
'We're defending a statue?' yelled Bentnor.
'Yes,' she yelled back.
'All right,' he agreed. Then he shrugged and motioned to his twin. The two men picked up the nearest of Stunk's fighters trying to wrestle a half-carved tombstone into the statue's path. With a heave and a grunt, Bentnor and Cadriffle threw the armored man across the courtyard into a couple of others. The twins gave a ragged cheer, as if they had scored a goal in one of their endless ball games.
Stunk's men gave a unified growl. They dropped the junk they had picked up from the courtyard to draw their own weapons. Swords were fully out and they swung back toward the younger Carvers with blades upraised. Lord Adarbrent sped forward, obviously trying to place himself between the two lines of very angry men.
Gustin drew a deep breath and raised his own hands, only the faintest glow of magic quivering at his fingertips. His eyes were sparkling green as he advanced toward the two sides.:.
'1 hope this spell works,' he muttered. 'Want to give me one more kiss for luck?'
'Somebody is going to get killed.' Sophraea tried to keep one eye on her family and an equally desperate eye
