now Henry’s helmet rang as a crossbow boltstruck the metal crown, making his ears ring.
Still the magic crossbow snarled, sheeting darts into the enemy. Enemy fire whirred from the tunnel as drow held up the bodies of dead or paralyzed comrades to use as shields. The drow shuffled forward inch by inch, awkwardly closing the range. Two broke and sped to the left, hitting the last of Escalla’s traps and blowing themselves ceiling high. Others ran past the smokingremains, leaped over a pile of rocks, and began racing to Henry’s position. Thesoldier whipped his crossbow about to blast a dozen shots at them as they ran. One elf fell, but the other threw himself flat and began worming through cover.
Switching targets had let other drow rush closer. A dozen cringed behind their horrific shields as Henry shifted fire, and the boy was forced to hammer the advancing elves once more.
Inch by inch, Henry and Polk were losing. The drow were gathering and signing to one another, almost confident enough to rush the deadly crossbow. Polk searched the bottom of the ammunition box, whipped out the last dozen crossbow bolts, and slapped them in place.
“Almost out!”
Blurring insanely fast, the magic crossbow’s string suddenlysnapped in two. Smoking, the pieces hung limp as Polk and Henry stared.
A sudden scream of victory came from the single drow on the flanks, and the dark elf charged Henry with two short swords clashing. Henry rolled, freeing his sword just as the Justicar had shown him, rolling and hacking upward into the drow’s knee. Hamstrung, the drow fell. Henry screamed infright and stabbed his sword down like an ice pick, the point skipping and sparking off the drow’s armor time and time again.
Desperate, the dark elf kicked Henry, and the boy fell. Turning, the drow raised both swords over Henry’s chest.
Henry roared furiously, bellowing like the Justicar and unleashing a vast strength brought on by terror and desperation. Rolling, he smashed his sword through the drow’s chest, carving right through into its evilheart. The drow fell on him, both swords striking stone to either side of Henry’s head.
The boy shoved the corpse away even as the elves at the tunnel mouth charged in one screaming, frenzied mass. A solid rain of crossbow bolts hissed forward. Polk whirled the portable hole outward like a cape, and the incoming darts flew harmlessly into the hole. Polk then grabbed the boy and ran.
“Strategic withdrawal, son!” Polk bellowed out like a wildbull as he ran. “Justicar!
More drow sped fast along the flanks to cut the retreating humans off. Henry pushed Polk back to run for safety just as a random dart pierced his calf from behind. Henry arched and froze.
Polk turned, saw the boy stiff and paralyzed, then grabbed Henry by the arm as the boy collapsed.
“Son!”
The teamster shoved Henry into the portable hole and threw the magic crossbow after him. A drow sprang like a mad locust straight at Polk’sback. The teamster turned and drew his last loaded hand crossbow, shooting the drow through the face.
The dark elf warrior fell lifeless to the stone floor, but a female drow leaped over the corpse and struck with her short sword. The blade speared straight through Polk’s chest. The teamster gasped and teetered even assomething flashed past his shoulder to explode like a bomb, crashing the drow off her feet.
Frenziedly beating her enemy to death, Escalla jammed her lich staff into the creature’s open mouth and triggered the weapon’s power. Thedrow detonated, and Escalla tumbled on the blast, showered by yet more gore.
Polk teetered, gasping and choking on his own blood, then fell. Escalla opened the portable hole under him even as a dozen crossbow shots hissed past her. With Polk inside, the faerie towed the hole awkwardly behind her as she fled, dragging it like a blanket.
Half a mile away, a solid column of refugees poured throughthe bone gate, occasionally trampling one of their own number. Lolth staggered and lurched into the columns of her own temple, clutching her face and screaming like a soul in torment. Drow fell, telepathically suffering their goddess’hangover. Escalla found Jus hovering beside the gate and blinking blankly as though it would clear his blindness. Escalla grabbed the man by the elbow and led him to the archway.
Jus stared about as he heard the sound of onrushing hordes of drow. “Are Polk and Henry safe?”
“I’ve got them! It’s not good.” Escalla shoved the portablehole into Jus’ hands. “But they must have killed at least a hundred drow!”
“Good men.”
“Polk’s hit bad!” Escalla screamed. “Real bad, Jus!”
“How many are left?”
“Huh?” Escalla gave Jus a confused look.
“How many captives? I can’t leave until they’re all out!”
Escalla did a quick estimate. “A few moments! When I say go,then get through quick!”
Lolth blundered closer, trying to focus on the departing sacrifices. More and more drow were flooding from the tunnel, charging toward the temple gates. Moving fast, Escalla dipped down and rapped her knuckles upon Benelux’s hilt.
“Hey, Spiky! Where did you say you were forged?”
“Is it hot?” Escalla cut her off.
“All right, that’s hot. That’s perfect!” Escalla chased thelast few dozen prisoners through the bone gate. “People,
Escalla looked around desperately. The last battered refugee in sight stumbled through. If there were more, they were on their own. She couldn’t wait any longer.
Escalla shoved Jus forward, and he disappeared. Seeing her prey escaping, Lolth reared and screamed. The demon’s head swam to thenightmarish effects of vintage sixty-three. Lurching sideways, all eight legs churning and slipping, the colossal spider blundered through her own altar, sending the bowl of blood clanging to the ground. The temple guards had fled, but the drow from the main caverns were closing fast. Escalla gave a last look over the underdark, tucked severed hand and lich staff underneath her arm, then quickly sped away.
She shot through the great bone arch, popped out of a mirror, and bounced upon a trampled, crushed, and altogether broken bed. She flew out the room’s shattered windows to wave to a faerie who stood goggling at the vastcrowd of refugees milling on his lawns.
Naked, blood smothered, and carrying a severed hand, Escalla gave the faerie a salute.
“Hey, Dad! Did you miss me?”
The blindness was clearing.
Jus blinked, holding onto a broken balustrade as he stared at once beautiful gardens that were now trampled flat by two thousand panicked feet. Refugees had swarmed over the lawns, where a dozen faerie sorcerers held them in a magic fence. Lord Charn hovered, tearing his hair out, appalled at the destruction to his home.
The splinter and crash of breaking woodwork sounded as one last refugee thundered through the magic portal-a gateway that exited from anornate mirror mounted on Escalla’s bedroom wall. Velvet curtains had been torndown as a solid battering ram of humans, elves, halflings, half-orcs, and even a dwarf or two had charged over a balcony and into the sylvan gardens beyond.
The Justicar blinked, and the last of the blindness fell away. Seeing Escalla hanging bloody and disheveled at his side, he said, “We’rein the faerie lands!”
“Yep!”
“This is your old bedroom!”
“The Nightshade key is kept in Dad’s vault just down thehall.” Escalla looked at Jus’ dubious face. “Hey, man!
