protect the people of this town?” she said.
“It’s my job,” Kandler said. He stared hard into her eyes. “Let me do it.”
“Do you give me your word you will face justice when this is done?” Sallah glared around the cell. “Such as it is?”
“You’d trust a word given under duress?”
Sallah shook her head in frustration. “Bah!” she said. Then she swung her blade up over her shoulder and offered her left hand to help Kandler up. He took it and leaped to his feet.
“Looks like you’ll have to trust me,” Kandler said with a grim grin.
Sallah pointed at Burch. “Hurry and free your friend,” she said. “And don’t make me regret this.”
Kandler tossed Burch the key. The shifter had his shackles undone in seconds. He rubbed his hairy wrists where the manacles had bit into his skin as he tried to strangle Sallah. “No hard feelings, lady,” he said.
“No time for that,” Sallah said as another scream sounded out above, much closer this time. She nodded at the others, then sprinted out of the cell and up the stairs beyond.
Kandler and Burch stopped only a moment to gather their weapons where they’d been stored on the landing at the bottom of the stairs. “Hurry!” Sallah said, waiting halfway up the steps.
Kandler buckled on his sword and stuffed his knife into the sheath on the back of his belt. Burch slipped his own sword belt over his shoulders and snatched up his crossbow. They nodded at each other and sprinted up the stairs, Sallah struggling to stay ahead of them.
As the trio emerged into the town hall, Kandler looked up and saw that someone-Temmah probably-had raised the tarp that usually covered the chandelier of everbright lanterns hanging from the large room’s tall, peaked roof. The light spilling down from the ceiling lit the three long tables in the center of the room, but it cast the plain wooden walls in shadow.
The justicar glanced around and saw Temmah pushing against the heavy, wooden front doors of the place with all his might, although they stood closed and barred. Something outside banged on the doors hard enough to rattle the thick, ironbound bar that lay across them. The stout windows in the large, solid building were barred as well, as they usually were when the hall wasn’t being used.
“What’s going on?” Kandler asked.
Startled, Temmah screamed. Coming from the dwarf’s normally deep-voiced throat, it was like cold steel sliding along Kandler’s spine.
Temmah flipped around and pressed his back to the doors. “Thank Aureon!” he said as another blow shook the doors and rattled his teeth. “We’re under attack!”
“Who is it?” Kandler motioned for Burch to grab the other end of a large table. They carried it over and shoved it against the door to lend it support. The banging continued.
“We don’t know,” said Temmah, his eyes wide with fear, his face and clothes spattered with blood. “I had just deputized a few men in the town square when they came in out of the darkness. Whatever they are, they tore Patelko’s head clean off.”
Kandler’s mind zoomed through a list of possible attackers. The region had been quiet since the disappearances had started two weeks back. Perhaps whoever was behind the missing people had gotten tired of picking off the citizens of Mardakine one at a time. Privately, Kandler hoped so. All his investigations so far had borne little fruit, and he was ready to put an end to this.
“Is it a living spell from the Mournland?” Burch asked, his hushed voice just audible over the banging.
“Anything’s possible,” said Kandler. He glanced at Sallah. She was staring at the door-or, as it seemed to Kandler, through it.
“I can feel their evil,” the lady knight said.
“They’re trying to break down the door and kill us,” said Kandler. “I’d say their evil is pretty well established.”
“Hold on,” Sallah said, still concentrating. “There are three of them right outside the door. One is far more powerful than the others. The darkness in him is deep.”
The banging came faster and more furious. The bar bent. The doors began to give.
“Step away from the door,” Kandler whispered to Temmah.
Temmah’s wide eyes goggled at the justicar. “I’m the only thing holding those creatures out!”
Kandler pulled his sword. “Move!” he whispered again.
“You’re not the justicar anymore,” Temmah said, as if he’d failed to convince even himself of that fact.
Kandler pointed his blade at the dwarf. “I’m reinstating myself. Consider this a direct order.”
Temmah crossed his eyes at the pointed end of the sword before him, then grimaced. “All right,” he said. Kandler had rarely heard such resignation in the dour dwarf’s voice. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
Temmah leaped away from the doors. The attackers outside felt the loss of the dwarf’s weight, and the pounding became worse than ever.
Kandler drew back his sword as if he was aiming a punch, and he pointed his blade at the slim gap between the doors. Each time the attackers slammed into the doors, the gap between them grew a hint larger. Soon, the bar would break, and the doors would fling open under this terrible assault.
“Come on in and get it!” Kandler said.
A face appeared in the gap. It seemed human, but its skin was a pale white, more the color of bleached bones than flesh. Its lips were stained with crimson fluid that dribbled down its chin. Its eyes were wide and filled with the dark color of fresh, thick blood. It cackled as it thrust its face into the light, exposing a mouthful of sharp, pointed fangs.
“Yessss!” the face hissed.
Chapter 11
Kandler shoved his blade right into the thing’s mouth. He felt it grate along the creature’s spine and pop out through the back of its neck. Its eyes burned like glowing coals for a moment as it tried to scream. Kandler had never seen such unbridled hatred in a face that looked so human. His mind wanted to deny it could be. Then the creature disappeared in puff of smoke.
“That was a vampire,” Sallah said as she scowled at Kandler in frustration, “and you just invited the damned thing in!”
The banging on the door stopped. “Seems to be working so far,” Burch said as he cocked his ears, trying to hear where the creatures might now be.
Kandler cursed inwardly. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. Undead creatures like that were strong enough to break down the door anytime they liked. They hadn’t been banging on the door. They’d been knocking on it.
The justicar sheathed his sword, then picked up a chair and smashed it over a table. Long, jagged parts of the legs remained in his hands. He tossed one of the legs to Burch. If they were going to survive this, they’d have to do it right. They couldn’t afford any more mistakes.
“Where are they?” Kandler asked Sallah. His mind fled to his house, to Esprл. Although he didn’t believe much in the gods, he felt a strong urge to pray. He wanted to run out into the night, to race to his home, and to hold his daughter tight. He had to be patient though. If the creatures killed him, he’d be no help to anyone, and he certainly didn’t want to lead them to his porch.
The lady knight stepped up to the battered front doors. There was still a gap between them, but although the bar had bent it had held. She touched it with her left hand while she drew back her sword for a blow with her right. She concentrated for a moment, then gasped. “They’re gone.”
“They’re looking for easier prey!” Temmah said with a nervous smile. He flipped a quick salute at Kandler. “That was a dandy of a blow.”
Kandler wanted to smile, but he knew better. “I didn’t hurt that thing. Steel can’t do the job. It’ll be back.” He glanced around the large, high-ceilinged room. The windows were all shuttered. The back door was barred too. “Any idea how they’ll come?” he asked Burch.
The shifter shook his head. “Place is tight.”
