Chaladar cried out. The paladin's sword was a silver flash as it swung down and sliced the rat in two. Its hind legs scrabbled to move forward; its jaws snapped at Teldin's booted feet. Then it ceased, finding true death at last.
'We're going to have to do something,' CassaRoc said.
Chaladar frowned at the oily blood smeared on his sword. From outside they Could hear CassaRoc's warriors shouting for them, warning others of the rats. CassaRoc yelled back, 'We're trapped in here! Call a mage! We need help!'
Then another rat was inside with them, and another, and another. Within minutes, the floor was strewn with the severed torsos of the black vermin, and more were streaming through the widening gap in the door.
The trio kicked and sliced their way through the rats and climbed up on the bar. Three rodents leaped up and were killed instantly by the grand knight's swift sword. Some scrambled up the wooden bar using their sharp, dead claws, and were crunched under Teldin's heavy boots or skewered by CassaRoc's blade.
The floor was a slimy mass of dark blood, of dead and undead vermin. Teldin paused and focused, concentrating on his cloak and its powers, but its hidden energies refused to be summoned. The powers of the cloak seemed to be exhausted, and Teldin considered if its magic did not work on the undead… and if it would work on the Fool.
The undead rats came on.
Teldin said, 'The cloak will not help us, and we can't stay here and try to chop them all in half. There are just too many.' As he said this, two rats leaped onto the bar and dove for his legs. He lashed out and kicked one across the room; the other drove its fangs into his flesh, and he screamed in pain. CassaRoc reached down and tore it away, then bent it back in his bare hands until its spine snapped with a loud crack.
'We might have to make a run for it,' Teldin said.
'Where do we go then?' CassaRoc asked. 'They'll just come after you again.'
'The Fool is the one we have to stop,' Chaladar said angrily. 'He is the one controlling this evil.'
The rats leaped and scrambled over each other in their frenzy to reach the Cloakmaster. The warriors lashed out with their swords and their heavy boots, but the rats swarmed from under the door with increasing ferocity, spitting chunks of wood from their bleeding mouths. Sweat ran from the warriors' faces as they speared the vermin on their blades, and CassaRoc's bar ran with the rats' black blood.
Then the wooden door rocked under the impact of a great weight. Again the door shuddered in its frame. The heavy iron bolt squealed as the weight hammered the door again and again.
Then the bolt sprang out of its braces and the wooden door shot open. A wave of rats poured into the room, chattering with unnatural hunger, and, from the corridor beyond, a large black creature crawled in on eight clawed legs. Its long yellow teeth gleamed in the light, and it focused its eellike eyes on Teldin and smiled. Gray drool oozed from its lips.
'A neogi,' CassaRoc said.
'No, look!' Teldin said, pointing. 'It's the one Na'Shee shot when I crashed on board.'
The neogi hissed at Teldin, focusing its black eyes on him. A bloody crossbow bolt protruded straight through its neck.
Teldin said, 'It's undead.'
'Distracted are they,' said one squat lieutenant, crouching in the shadows at the bottom of the Tower of Thought.
'Undead of the rats because.'
'Guards all main level on. This way follow.'
The two furry shapes scurried up the tower's back stairs. Their black claws clacked against the stone. Behind them, two muscular shapes followed, lumbering blindly up the stairs.
On the upper level, they paused to listen through the wooden door. At the leader's command, the tallest of the huge shapes opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit corridor.
The guards at the door stared openly and quickly whipped out their swords, but the giant intruders reached them in seconds. One guard went down from a single hammering blow to his forehead. The other managed one lunge at his grotesque attacker, then was gripped from behind. His attacker's mandibles quickly closed on the guard's soft neck, and he died as his blood spilled onto the floor.
The intruders opened the door to Cwelanas's quarters. She lay in the bed, in restful sleep.
The furred black leader grinned. 'Now… now, ours the shemeat is. Soon, soon, cloak perhaps ours will be.'
Silently, the Unhuman intruders approached Cwelanas.
Chapter Sixteen
'… Many obstacles the Cloakmaster must overcome, for enemies many he will find, chief among them the unreason and hatred that unhumans generate for all others. It is this hatred, many believe, that has created a being which leeches off the soul of the Spelljammer, whose desire is nothing less than the Spelljammer's destruction. Revenge is its heart; evil, its soul. ' Was this evil once human? Doubtful is that, according to the legends that have circulated for years… 'But that is all we have: legends, rumorsno facts… 'Of but one thing we can be certain: great evil walks these decks…'
The undead neogi glared at Teldin with its black, empty eyes. Pinpricks of bright light shone from deep in its sockets- the Fool's eyes, Teldin knew. The neogi bared its needle-sharp teeth and waded through the undead rats toward the Cloakmaster.
Teldin raised his sword. Rats snapped at his boots as he leaped from the bar, diving for the neogi.
The neogi snarled as Teldin fell full upon it. They went down together, into the onrush of rats. Teldin wrapped his legs around the neogi's bulbous torso and held back its snapping face with his forearm. His sword plunged deep into its round belly. Black blood gushed from the wound.
The rats around them scratched at Teldin's face and arms, gnashing their yellow teeth. He winced as he felt long fangs sink into his thigh, others in the back of his leg.
The neogi rolled through the rats, trying to shake Teldin off. His grip on it was tight. His sword slashed down and down, countless times into the fat, undead flesh, and the neogi still snapped at Teldin's face and neck, seeking his warm blood. Teldin felt the sting of rat bites across his legs, across his arms, and several in his sides. His blood was warm and sticky, oozing from dozens of small wounds, and he could tell that the scent of his blood was driving the undead rats into a frenzy of hunger.
Teldin pressed hard against the neogi's neck, bending back its head. He kicked out with his bloody legs, feeling his feet sink deep into its coid flesh. With one mighty lunge, a bone in its neck cracked, and Teldin hurled the neogi away. It fell against the wall with a wet, sickening crunch.
The Cloakmaster struggled to stand upright, panting with exhaustion. The rats scrambled up his cloak, leaping for his arms and neck. The neogi rose across from him, its head lolling on a hideously broken neck. Its black eyes watched him ferally, and with a tortured scream, the neogi leaped over the rats.
It gnashed its teeth at him in the air. Teldin swung his sword in one swift motion, and the blade sliced cleanly through the neogi's neck. Blood twirled through the air in an arc. The undead neogi's head dropped into the wave of rats. Its jaws snapped once, then stopped. It took a single, involuntary step forward on its sharp claws; then, as if sensing that some vital part of it was missing, the neogi body staggered, then fell over onto the floor, instantly smothered by the undead rats.
Rats were covering Teldin's arms, his back. He tore them off with a swipe of his hand, then could feel them jumping, replacing their brothers, on his shoulders, his legs. CassaRoc screamed for him, but the rats were leaping at his face, drawing blood on his cheeks. He felt teeth at his neck and wrenched two rats away with his bloody
