Dirk swirled out of the figurine and floated a foot off the ground. Krentz watched with growing anticipation as the figurine continued to glow. Suddenly, it erupted once more in shimmering light, and a large form passed through it into the material world. To Krentz’s surprise, a grizzly bear took form beside the fire.
“Not bad, eh?” said Dirk, grinning.
“I believe that Blackthorn has outdone you,” said Gretzen, who was also sitting beside the fire. Aurora floated a few feet away and to the right, looking none too pleased.
“Show off,” she said, enjoying the inside joke.
Chief growled and scuttled over to the fire, eyeing the grizzly spirit dangerously.
“Now, Chief, play nice,” said Dirk. “Stay,” he said to the bear, gently exerting his will.
“Remember, Blackthorn. The spirits you bind to yourself will not be as strong as Chief,” said Gretzen. “They are new to the material world and will not be able to maintain form for long.”
“I understand. It took me many months to be able to maintain form for long periods of time,” said Dirk.
“Yes, but you were summoned immediately. The memory of flesh was fresh on your mind. Many of the spirits you will bring with you have been dead for years. For some it will take a long time to remember. Against the undead, however, they will not need to take form. Those creatures are caught in between worlds, and so they can be affected by both.”
Dirk took note of her words, as did Aurora. They had both been practicing spirit binding for many days, and they had both picked up on it quickly. They had tamed nearly all of the larger beasts, yet neither had been successful in binding a dragon. Dirk had one particular dragon in mind, Fyrfrost, who had fallen in the final battle against the dark elves. He had yet to see the beast, and was working with Gretzen on a way to summon him. The old witch said that she was close to finishing the spell, and soon they would be able to attempt it.
A horn blared in the distance, coming from the southern coast.
“What’s that mean, eh?” Raene asked.
“Warning,” said Gretzen as she got up stiffly. “Means an enemy ship has been spotted. The number of calls marks the number of ships.”
They all waited, listening pensively.
The horn blared again, and again. Ten times it sounded. The group exchanged glances and settled on Gretzen. An old barbarian man came running from the heart of the village, followed by other elders and the oldest of the children. They were armor-clad and armed with sword and spear.
Gretzen turned to Aurora and held out the trinket. “I will summon you back shortly, see that you bring company. Now back to the spirit world, Aurora Snowfell.”
Azzeal came from somewhere in the village. His eyes glowed soft blue and his ears were perked to danger. “The horn speaks of many ships.”
“Quickly,” said Gretzen, “to the coast!”
Dirk and Chief turned to mist and zipped through the village, heading south. Krentz, Raene, and Azzeal sped after them. Gretzen downed a small vial of glowing liquid and shuddered. She raised her long staff into the air and gave a grating war cry. The elders and young warriors echoed the cry as Gretzen led the charge through the village and through the forest. Soon she had caught up to the dwarf and the two elves.
Azzeal laughed when he was overtaken by the elderly woman. Raene gritted her teeth and pumped her legs as hard as she could.
The small group sped across the long green field leading to the beach. Up ahead they could see Dirk and Chief streaking across the sky to intercept a group of undead draquon flying low over the sand dunes and high grass. Three of the beasts flew on past the defenders. On their backs rode dark elves with glowing blades.
“Spirit blades?” Azzeal asked Gretzen.
“Possibly, or something worse.”
Raene spoke the words that would activate her mace. It flashed and hummed with power, glowing bright silver. “Bah, tell ‘em to bring it on. I been itchin’ to try this out.”
The three draquon flew swiftly toward the defenders as the first of the invading undead soldiers charged over the distant dunes. Gretzen turned to her people and cast a ward of protection over them all.
Krentz spoke the words, and her bow shifted to spirit form. She pulled back the bow and the song of the dragon echoed across the field. She fired three glowing arrows in rapid succession. The draquon dove and barrel-rolled, trying to avoid the streaking missiles. One of the beasts misjudged an arrow’s flight and was hit in the chest. It exploded on impact, sending its dark elf rider careening to the ground.
Arrows erupted from Krentz’s bow until the other two flying beasts and their riders were destroyed.
“Hey!” Raene yelled. “Save some for me, would ye!”
“You shall have your chance,” said Gretzen. She pointed at her apprentices and brought them to the front line. Gretzen ordered the other barbarians to hold the forest leading to the village. Those that she had asked forward called to their blades, which flared to life and glowed bright blue and silver. Aurora had helped her to make spirit blades for their people. Thirteen stood before her, seven elder warriors and six young teens.
In the distance a horn blared. This was no barbarian horn, but rather high-pitched and wicked. A horde of undead crested the dunes and emerged from the beach, led by a dark elf necromancer flying a large draquon. A dozen of the beasts flew behind him.
“There are hundreds,” said Azzeal.
“They must not get to the village,” said Gretzen.
The others followed her across the field toward Dirk and Chief, who were streaking across the frontline of the approaching horde, felling many and slowing their advance.
Gretzen summoned Aurora on the run and pointed at the approaching horde. “They come to claim our lands! Protect the children!” Gretzen cried.
Aurora flared to life and unsheathed a seven-foot-long glowing blade. The bound spirits of a wolf and panther came with her. Together they exploded from the group like a streak of lightning, flying across the field and tearing into the charging undead.
Raene charged across the field as other horns blared in the distance to the east and west—likely Timber Wolf and Dragon Tribe answering the call of battle.
Krentz riddled the oncoming draquon, taking many of them from the sky with her glowing arrows.
A necromancer leapt from his dying beast when an arrow found its heart. He landed before the group of charging defenders. Raene was the closest. She charged the crouching elf and shield-slammed him with all her might. The necromancer flew backward through the air but turned to mist and was suddenly behind her. Instinctively, she brought her mace around to counter the blow that she knew would be coming. There was a flash of light as her glowing mace met his similarly deadly sword. The two spirit weapons crackled and hissed as they exchanged blows. Raene parried and sent the spirit blade out wide, coming in to strike at the dark elf’s head. He ducked the blow and brought his glowing blade around. Knowing that she had no time to block with her mace, Raene instinctively brought up her shield.
The necromancer’s blade passed right through it and her arm as well. A searing hot pain shot through her, and she fell back with a cry. Her left arm had no feeling and hung at her side, useless. The necromancer lunged at her but was stopped by a glowing arrow that took him in the neck. He stumbled back even as another arrow hit him in the chest. He jerked and let out a long groan before falling to the ground, dead.
Azzeal stopped beside Raene as the others charged past them toward the advancing horde.
“Are you alright?”
Raene grimaced and gritted her teeth against the pain in her arm. There was no visible wound to the flesh—it was her spirit that had been damaged.
“Damn arm’s useless,” she said, tucking it under her belt.
“You should fall back to the—”
“Bah! You fall back. I got undead to send to the hells! Come on, elf,” she said, taking up the charge once more.
Dirk and Chief were still fighting the draquon overhead, keeping them busy enough to not attack the others. Krentz stood off to the side, shooting arrows as fast as she could. There were hundreds of undead soldiers coming at them, and more cresting the distant dunes. Dirk suddenly streaked across the sky and materialized before Krentz.
“Dismiss me and call me back shortly!” he said.
Krentz asked no questions, knowing what he had in mind.
“Back to the spirit world, Dirk Blackthorn!”
He disappeared, and Chief came to defend her.
“Keep those undead off of me so that I can work the bow,” she told him.
He gave a howl and streaked out to attack those undead who had targeted her.
The front lines clashed with a clang of blades and shields. The undead ignored even fatal wounds, and the draquon began to dive into the group of defenders to pluck warriors from their ranks.
Aurora put her spirit blade to work with devastating effect. She stood at the center of the horde, swinging her blade back and forth, felling all that came in contact with it. Her spirit wolf and panther tore through the invading army as well, ignoring all injuries as they ripped out throats and mauled undead humans and dark elves alike.
Raene and Azzeal caught up to the others, and while the elf dove into the fray, Raene hung back and took mental control of a large round boulder that sat off to the left of the battlefield. She pulled with all her might, but rather than lift the seven-foot-tall stone, she caused it to roll. It went down a small gully and came up the other side faster than before. The boulder continued to gain momentum as Raene steered it into the undead army. By the time it went crashing into the side of the group, it was traveling as fast as a sprinting horse. Raene kept the pressure on, crushing undead humans, elves, and draggard. When it cleared through to the other side, she steered it out wide and brought it back for another pass.
Krentz paused her attack on the draquon above—it had been long enough. “Dirk Blackthorn, come to me!” she cried.
Out of the figurine came Dirk, along with the grizzly, a giant stag with huge pointed antlers, and to Krentz’s surprise, a shrieking dragon.
“Fyrfrost!” she cried in amazement.
“To battle!” Dirk yelled, raising his spirit blade high.
Fyrfrost roared and shot through the air after the winged beasts. The grizzly and stag sped across the field as streaks of light, solidifying before the undead and attacking mercilessly.
Raene’s boulder rolled through the invaders once more, and she finally released it, falling to her knees panting. Azzeal had worked his way back to her and took her up under the arm. She gave no objection as he whisked her away behind the defenders.
“Just need a bit o’ rest,” she told him.
“You deserve it. That was quite impressive.”
“Aye, gave them…them bastards…” She swayed and Azzeal caught her.
“Raene?”
She didn’t respond.
Azzeal inspected her left arm. What skin he could see was blackened and swollen. Wasting no time, he began to pick her up. She jerked awake with a start and pushed him away with surprising strength.
“What ye all about, eh?”
“You should return to the village, your arm—”
“I ain’t retreatin’. Ye hear me, ye meddlin’ elf.”
Azzeal sighed and unsheathed his blade. With a word it flared to life. He followed the fearless dwarf back into the fray.
An hour later the companions sat on the dunes overlooking the shore. Ten ships burned in the water. Smoke hung thick in the air. True to Gretzen’s word, the spirit animals that Dirk and Aurora had bound and brought with them hadn’t lasted long in battle. Fyrfrost had maintained form the longest and had wreaked havoc on the invaders, igniting the killing fields and dousing the ships in flame. The fight had taken a lot out of Aurora as well, and she asked Gretzen to dismiss her so that she would be fresh should another attack come from the south.
Dirk had stayed behind, though he was just as tired as the others. He insisted on remaining on guard until Chief had recuperated some strength.
Raene sat on the sand, looking as though she might pass out at any moment. Gretzen kneeled over her, tending to her blackened arm.
“Will she be alright?” Azzeal asked with a look of concern.
“It isn’t fatal. This limb has been severed from the spirit body. If I don’t act soon, she will lose it.”
A group of young, strong barbarian teenagers ran up to them with a large quilt. They quickly rolled the babbling dwarf onto it and, taking her up, carried her toward the village with Gretzen and Azzeal following close behind. They were forced to take a roundabout route, since Fyrfrost had scorched the entire field leading to the village in order to destroy the bodies of the undead.
Krentz and Dirk remained to keep watch over the coast until reinforcements arrived. Hundreds of warriors were on their way from neighboring villages. The call had gone out when first the invaders were spotted. In the absence of the warriors that Aurora had led into battle months earlier, the very young had been forced to grow up quickly. Volnoss’s army now consisted of elderly warriors who had seen too many winters, and young men and women who had seen too few. To their credit, they had done fairly well against the undead.