ordered. Bart ignored him.
Riyan, with his hands tied as they were, tripped going up the steps to the dais and fell prone upon its surface.
Bart had sword ready to meet the lord’s attack when something flew by his ear and struck the approaching lord in the cheek.
Exclaiming in surprise, the lord pulled the dart from his skin. Bart could see where the skin was beginning to radiate red spidery tendrils as his wound had the year before. The lord threw the dart to the floor and continued toward Bart.
“Get through the wall!” Bart said to Riyan.
Riyan scooted his way across the floor as best he could with hands tied behind his back. He was almost there when a hand took hold of him. He turned and looked into the eyes of a Tribesman.
“Fear not,” the Tribesman said. Then he said one word, Shaelyn.
Understanding immediately came. Shaelyn, that was the name of the girl back in Marl Crest who had been in love with the captured Raider. Looking up, he recognized the Tribesman who had hold of him as being that Raider. It was Haran, nephew to Lord Kueryn.
“I owe you and your friends a debt,” he said as he dragged Riyan to his feet. Five other Tribesmen joined them and together, helped Riyan move toward the wall that was now halfway opened. Beyond was a short passage that ended at another room, within which, something glittered.
Bart glanced back and saw the Tribesmen with Riyan and feared the worst. Before him, Lord Geop was beginning to lose his balance as the spidery tendril spread across his face. Staggering, his sword fell from his hand as he dropped to his knees. A moment later, he toppled over.
At the mouth of the passage, he heard another fireball leaving the magic user on its way toward his friends. He hoped Kevik could hold his own for there was nothing he could do to help. Turning about, he charged the men standing with Riyan. Riyan saw him coming with the intent of rescuing him. He was about to speak when Haran put the edge of his sword to Riyan’s throat and shouted, “Come no closer or he dies!”
Bart slowed and then stopped.
“Drop you sword,” ordered Haran.
Hesitating only a moment, Bart let go of the sword.
“Now,” Haran told him, “come and stand next to your friend.”
When Bart came closer, Riyan said, “It’s Haran.”
“Who?” Bart asked, not making the connection.
“Marl Crest,” Riyan reminded him. Gazing at his friend’s eyes, he saw understanding dawn.
Bart turned to Haran and asked, “Is this how you repay someone for your life?”
“You’re still alive aren’t you?” he asked. Then he turned his attention to Lord Kueryn and the rest who were near the mouth of the passage. “If your friends can defeat Geffen,” he told them, “we may have a chance.”
“We?” asked Riyan.
Haran nodded but didn’t explain further. Beside them, the sigil inscribed wall had almost completely opened.
Kevik’s robe was smoking, the smell of burnt hair and flesh permeated the passageway as time and again Kevik’s shields prevented the worst of the fireballs from getting through. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been able to shield them from the heat.
Each time the fireball erupted on his shield, a wave of heat would roll over him singing hair and burning skin. Pain was a constant companion as he once again created a fire shield.
“Now?” yelled Chyfe. He and the rest had moved further back to escape the worst of the heat.
Kevik turned toward him and they could see his face was a mass of blisters. Hair all but singed off and his robe glowed red in two places where it burned, Kevik was in a bad way. “No!” he shouted.
“But you can’t survive much more!” argued Seth.
Wham!
Another fireball exploded on the shield. This time, Kevik stumbled to one knee. “Not yet,” he gasped. He turned his eyes toward the glowing wall behind the magic user. “Not yet,” he breathed. Leaning heavily upon his staff, he regained his feet. He saw a fireball racing toward him and cast his shield spell again.
Wham!
The explosion knocked Kevik back a step and his staff flew from his hand.
“Kevik!” cried Seth.
Kevik seemed to stand there motionless for a moment before toppling backwards.
Seth raced forward and caught him before he hit the ground. “Come on man,” he said as he laid Kevik down.
Kevik’s eyes were unfocused and he looked like a piece of meat that had spent too much time in the fire.
“Get up!” urged Chad. Looking back down the passage to the other magic user, he saw him beginning to cast another fireball.
Soth retrieved Kevik’s staff and placed it in his hand. He knew they were in trouble when Kevik’s fingers failed to tighten on its shaft.
“The gem!” cried Seth.
Chad was watching the magic user at the end of the passageway and said, “There isn’t time.”
Then, Kevik raised his head slightly and looked down toward the sigil inscribed wall. When he saw it come to a stop and the glow emanating from the sigils fade, he weakly said, “Chyfe…”
“What?” Chyfe asked leaning closer to hear what he was saying.
At the other end of the passageway, light flared as another fireball shot toward them.
“Oh my god,” exclaimed Chad as fiery hell hurtled toward them. This time, there would be no shield protecting them.
Barely above a whisper, Kevik said, “Now.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“It’s over my lord,” Geffen said as he prepared to cast one final fireball. “Their magic user can no longer shield them.” His last fireball had knocked out, or perhaps even killed him. This time, there will be no shield and they will die.
“Then finish it,” Lord Kueryn commanded. Beside him, Lord Hurrin and Captain Lyrun stood watching the magical combat. Over near the entrance of the Horde, his nephew has the thief and his friend under control.
Geffen nodded and cast his spell, sending fiery death to their enemies. With a roar, it flew down the passageway. At about halfway to where their enemy stood, the fireball appeared to shrink in on itself. Then it fizzled out.
“What?” he exclaimed. Casting his spell again, he sent another fireball down the passage. And just like the previous one, it too shrank in on itself before disappearing altogether. “Impossible!” he cried.
“Something wrong?” asked Lord Kueryn.
“I thought you said it was over,” stated Captain Lyrun. Turning to Lord Kueryn, he said, “Seems your magic user isn’t that good my lord.”
Lord Kueryn turned toward Geffen. “Kill them!” he demanded.
From down the passageway, four sword wielding figures were moving rapidly toward them.
“I…I can’t!” he exclaimed.
Captain Lyrun turned a disgusted look to Geffen. “Never rely on a magic user!” Drawing his sword, he moved to meet the four attacking swordsmen.
Lord Hurrin turned to the four Tribesmen soldiers standing nearby. “Go with him,” he ordered. “Kill them all.” As one, the four men drew their swords and hurried to follow Captain Lyrun.
Geffen continued attempting spell after spell to no effect. Something was stealing the power as each spell formed. In an attempt to discover the source, he began casting minor spells all the while focusing on where the
