certain he only recognised the one named Gunther. The human strode up, smoke and sparks flaming from his musket as he put a ball through one of the Ultari’s eyes. That seemed to work. The demon skittered backwards, rising on its hind legs, giving the impression of a creature in great agony.
As it did so, two more men raced forward and drove bayonets into the weak spots where leg met carapace. The demon lashed out with its blade decapitating one, and falling forward to crush the other. Gunther slammed a bayonet into place on his musket and began driving it home into the demon’s body all the while, praying loudly to the Light. Sardec fervently hoped it heard his prayers.
Asea lay nearby. Blood stained her armour. It was rent and torn in a dozen places where the Ultari had struck her. Even the thick dragonscale leather could not fully resist those huge scythes. One of her bodyguards lay sprawled near her, dead or dying. The other stood over them both with a wild look in its strange eyes. It chanted something to itself in a language Sardec did not recognise. The last few ripjacks were down now as well. He could hear only one of them squealing in pain nearby. Even as he listened, the squealing stopped.
The maelstrom of battle was all around. He had no idea of the big picture. Clouds of musket smoke obscured sight. The screams of the dying drowned out his shouts of command. It was a personal battle now, hand to hand and one which the humans were destined to lose. Overhead Yagga battled on, magma-like blood flowing over his body.
Think, he told himself. There must be something you can do, some way you can disrupt the spell. A spider demon reared over him. More came behind it. This was not going to work, he thought. He was going to die here.
Something flashed overhead and splashed down on the Ultari’s back. It was a crystal egg of some sort. It broke and the sulphurous smell of alchemical fire filled the air as the chemicals within ignited. The demon’s legs began to dance uncontrollably as it backed away, bumping into others spreading the fire. More of the glass eggs flashed overhead, landing amid the spiders. Once more they retreated. Off to his right, Sardec could see the half- breed was lobbing the bombs while his two companions engaged one of the Ultari. He realised that he was safe for a moment, and more than that there was a clear path before him that led to the sorcerer.
Sardec felt his blade heavy in his fist and the answer came to him. Moonshade, he thought. The blade was made from truesilver alloys, wrapped round with elder signs intended to disrupt magic. It was an artefact of the home-world. Perhaps…
'Death or glory!' he shouted.
Without further thought he raised the sword and rushed forward into the pattern. The effect was immediate. Pain surged through him. The blade burned in his hands. As he fought through the area of the spell, he left a trail of sparks that dazzled the eye. He felt the blaze of Yagga above him, and the rotting chill that marked the presence of Uran Ultar. The air around him shimmered like a heat-haze. Everything within the area of the pattern felt distorted. Rainbow energies coruscated around him. Space itself seemed to warp and bend. He realised that he was at once in this world and somewhere else. The blade burned in his fist, so hot it was melting. He felt as if his fingers were on fire, fusing to the weapon.
Before him loomed Zarahel. He knew he was only going to get one chance at this. He lunged and his blade bit home into the carapace that surrounded the magician.
“No!” he heard the spider sorcerer scream. Zarahel clutched at his chest. There was a huge explosion as monstrous amounts of unearthly energy were unleashed. A blinding flash blazed across his field of vision. Sardec was vaguely aware of dark shapes being torn apart by the forces, and a shock wave lifting him from his feet.
That did it, he thought, as the darkness took him.
Zarahel fought the pain within him. The agony was appalling. He was so close. It came to him that the thought was not entirely his own but belonged to the manifesting god above him. Not that it mattered. He had no desire to die here. He fought to keep the collapsing spell functioning, to prevent the doorway closing and Uran Ultar being sucked back into his extra-dimensional lair. The monstrous melting blade burned in his chest. The agony was all but unendurable.
Rik watched appalled as the explosion raced outwards. At its core he could see the armoured figure of Zarahel, sword protruding from his chest, waving his arms and chanting, fighting desperately to control the energies of his disrupted spell. The explosion seemed to somehow reverse, and be drawn back inwards. Either the mage was succeeding or something else was happening. Yagga was much smaller now. Even as Rik watched, he flickered and vanished like the blown out flame of a candle.
Rik was all out of bombs. He looked around. Leon lay sprawled on the floor, a massive wound in his side. Weasel was plunging his bayonet repeatedly into the weak points of an Ultari. Rik reached for his belt and drew his pistol. This was it, his last trick, a truesilver bullet he had purchased from Karl. It was inscribed with elder signs. Rik hoped that it worked as well as the bombs. He raised the gun.
Rik took careful aim and squeezed the trigger gently, sending the ball flying directly towards his target. It caught the mage in the forehead and sent him crumpling backwards. The energies swirled once more, their flow reversed, forming a vortex that had started to draw Uran Ultar back into whatever hell world he had emerged from.
The Ultari raced away as if scared the portal would suck them in too. Wind whipped Rik’s hair. He fought against the suction, trying to walk away from it, and as suddenly as it came it was gone.
Pain blazed through Zarahel’s brain. He felt the power flow from him. He felt the spark of sentience Uran Ultar had awakened in his children die out. He felt something else, as the portal closed. Something was drawn from him, upwards and outwards, heading towards the gate. His last deadly realisation was that it was his soul.
The vortex vanished and Uran Ultar with it. There were only a few of the Ultari left. Unfortunately, thought Rik, at this moment, it looked like that few would be enough. There were less than a dozen Foragers on their feet now and the spider demons could finish them at their leisure.
He unslung his rifle, fixed his bayonet and waited for the end to come.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Slowly the Ultari moved forward. Rik turned to Weasel. “A little help here would be appreciated.” He was proud that his voice was steady.
Weasel rose and stood beside him. “Stand ready for a charge while I reload,” he said in a low voice, scared of goading the spider-demons by speaking too loudly. Rik nodded and looked around.
To his surprise there will still a dozen dazed looking Foragers on their feet, including Sergeant Hef. He waited for Weasel to finish loading and then kneeled to do the same thing himself. A slow scan of the walls told him that no more Ultari had emerged but there were still three of the things ready for action. They were moving slowly now, but the light from the pattern and the energy web above it was already fading. Soon it would be dark and they would be lost in the underworld with these monsters ready to slay.
“We need to find a lantern,” Rik said.
“There’s one there still lit. Over by the Lady Asea.” Leon groaned again. Rik did not know what to do. He did not want to leave his friend but he could not stand here waiting for darkness to engulf them.
“We’ll be back,” he said, edging towards the lantern.
“Don’t leave me, Rik.” The cry was that of a child in pain in the dark. It brought back memories of the Temple workhouse.
“I’ll be back,” Rik said gently. He moved forward slowly, not wanting to provoke the Ultari into attacking. They still seemed a little dazed. Perhaps they were stunned by the disappearance of their demon god. Behind him, Leon whimpered. Weasel moved, musket at shoulder, ready to fire.
Rik could see the Ultari were beginning to advance towards the lantern, perhaps trying to cut them off. They did not like the light but they were intelligent enough to realise what it would mean if they could put it out. Rik
