Ioann and Amberly seemed to be faring just as well: Ioann’s foes both lay burned and smoking upon the ground, brutally decimated by the sorcerer’s burning blade. Now, he and Amberly worked in concert to finish off her foes, both backing off in tandem, but with Ioann’s reach, they had no real ability to reply.
A flash of movement caught Syline’s eye.
‘Ioann, watch out!’
Amberly’s eyes flashed up, her blade reaching to try and cut down the flash, but she misjudged. Depth perception struggled against something moving that fast. But she did stop it from hitting Ioann. Amberly screeched at the top of her lungs, staring at the arrow embedded straight through her wrist. Syline winced at the scream as she searched for the archer responsible. There he was, the eleventh mercenary right by Jane and Gehrman, drawing his next arrow.
‘He’s mine! Take down those last swordsmen!’ Syline shouted to Ioann and raised up her staff. A word from Jane had the man’s attention moving from the melee to the wizard on the staircase. He drew his arrow back, but Syline was already moving, already casting. The arrow soared past her cheek, cutting a nick on it. Syline squealed, losing concentration as her hand went to her cheek. She could see Jane grinning as the man drew another arrow. Kat and Thelonious moved to flank Ioann and Amberly’s foes. Four on two. This man was the only one Syline had to worry herself with now.
He knocked another arrow, but Syline was casting far faster this time, pain lending her fresh focus and sending words flitting from her lips one after the other. The archer’s eyes widened, and he let his arrow go skittering half-drawn across the tiles before turning to try to run for cover. The gemstone at the head of her staff lit up a glorious crimson, and the roar of flames filled the air. A burning arc of light flew over the battle to strike the man full in the chest. His dying screams filled the air as, with a final syllable, Syline sent the arc for Jane. She’d expected as much, but watching the vampiress easily flip over the arc, not even singed by it, still left Syline disappointed.
Jane laughed.
‘Not bad, Syline, not bad,’ she cooed, watching the last of the mercenaries die to her friend’s blades. As one, they turned on Jane, ready and eager to end this fight. ‘But,’ Jane drawled, ‘did you really think I would trust my defence to simple mercenaries?’
She spoke the words of calling.
A chill of terror went down Syline’s spine as she felt the staircase shift beneath her. The staircase splintered and cracked, Thelonious had time to yell for her to run, but there was no time to do it. Suddenly, Syline found herself sailing through the air as a terrible, familiar bellow filled the room. Rubble and shrapnel flew around her, and she shielded her eyes from it, covering her face with her forearms. She could only pray she’d land on something soft. Thankfully, Thelonious caught Syline out of the air, cradling her to his chest and grunting in pain as he skidded back along the tiles before putting her back on her feet.
‘I suppose it’s about time I step in, as well. Gehrman, dear, you can go put the kettle on, if you like. This shan’t take long. Oh, and dear? Leave the sword; you’re liable to hurt yourself,’ Syline heard Jane say to her husband, sounding for all the world like any other noble woman. Amused and gentile.
Syline lowered her arms and looked to the stairs. Extracting itself from the rubble was one of those awful, stretched, draconic beasts. Those terrible things that looked like a man, tormented and reshaped by the whims of a mad sculptor. Rather than having tentacles, however, it had huge, brutal claws: four long talons on each limb that scrambled for purchase as it brought itself over the rubble of the grand staircase. Behind it came more of the waxwork deep elves, their forms melted, contorted, and shifted, but with more purpose than the last ones they’d fought. All their arms ended in shafts of bone; the bones of their forearms twisted around one another into twin spear points. Their heads were split in absence of any real thought, nothing but mouths filled with terrible fangs and wild, flailing tongues.
‘Scared, Syline? This is what it looks like to have truly powerful allies to call upon.’
Syline grinned, laughed even, looking for all the world as if she was completely confident. ‘Scared? We’ve fought these before. We know how to kill them,’ she said, feigning as much bravado as she could.
It worked, for Jane seemed confused, disturbed even.
‘What? How could you? You’ve been to the – you’re bluffing.’
‘No, I’m not. Thelonious, Kat! Keep her back as best you can! Amberly, clean up after me and Ioann. Ioann! They’re weak to fire! Burn them to a crisp!’ Her allies jumped to their tasks with relish. Thelonious and Kat exchanged a glance and moved side by side to stand ready against Jane, who screamed in frustration and their lack of despair, composure fracturing against the party’s will to go on.
Syline gave Ioann a smile and shouted over, ‘I’ve gotten better at it!’
‘At what?’
‘Your spell!’
Syline conjured forth her flame dagger from the tip of her staff, shaping it into a grand spear of blue fire, holding back sheer power to avoid draining herself. Even with the staff bolstering it, she couldn’t afford to burn through all of her reserves. Ioann grinned and summoned his own forth with a confident roar as the wax work elves rushed ahead of the draconic beast.
‘They’re stronger than they look!’ Amberly warned, moving in front of Syline with her off-hand limp at her side. She’d snapped off the arrow at both sides but hadn’t pulled the shaft out; she couldn’t risk the extra bleeding right now.
Ioann nodded.
‘Fire beats brawn!’ he said with a laugh, running into the fray.
Watching Ioann in action against monsters was a sight to see. These waxwork elves couldn’t really hope to compare to his grace, his strength. The sorcerer was far more experienced than any of them at fighting undead and similar beasts. He weaved in between their blades and blows, his burning blade passing through their forms with enough heat to burn limbs off entirely and leave torsos black and still burning. He worked his way straight through the centre, apparently happy to kill what he could and leave the others screaming and reeling from his flames for Amberly to mop up. He took a few cuts to his arms from their bone spear arms, but his reflexes allowed him to stay ahead of taking any serious, real wounds.
For a few short moments, Syline was distracted, simply watching him until Amberly laughed. ‘Swoon later, Syl! Burn them up!’ she called. Syline blushed.
Amberly stealing her sister’s nickname for her was a cheap shot. She didn’t know how long she’d be able to push her magic reserves. She’d already used spells which had left her exhausted in the past, but for now, she felt alright. She hurried on after him, spearing for creatures’ heads, or whatever she found that looked like a head, in an attempt to blind them, or searing her fire blade along their blackened limbs, where the flesh turned brittle.
By now, most of the creatures were aflame. Syline shot Amberly a smile and, side by side, the two rushed forward. With them reeling, it gave her the freedom to drop her axe through any blackened wounds or still-burning limbs. The weight of the axe was enough to do most of the work for her against the brittle, charred flesh. Jane couldn’t have expected the fight to go like this, but against these creatures, Ioann was a trump card with little comparison. A renowned fire sorcerer, whose speciality was beast hunting? The creatures stood no real chance. Syline’s fire spear and Ioann’s blade were used to great effect, their reach so superior to the creatures that it took away any chance at a response, leaving the poor, ruined wax work abominations wailing and aflame. Once aflame, the quick bladework of Amberly and Syline’s heavy axe made short work of them. In under a minute, the trio had dealt with nearly twenty-five of the creatures.
This left the draconic beast before them, its hind quarters finally fully extracted from the cavity beneath the stairs. Now finally out, it roared at the trio, and Syline knew full well this fight would be very different from that against the waxwork creatures. She spared a short glance over to Kat and Thelonious and was relieved to see the pair of them holding Jane at bay. Jane had grabbed her husband’s blade and wielded it with a speed and dexterity that would make Kat jealous, despite it being a blade made for a man to wield two handed. In her off-hand, she held a slim, black wand. Between parries and counter-strokes, she fired off rapid spells: arcane missiles, shunts of force, streams of acid from the tip of the wand. It was only Kat’s speed and grace that kept her from being overtly wounded. Thelonious, though, had nothing to rely on but his armour and fortitude, worn down by the magic even as the pair kept her on the back foot. It would only be a matter of time. Unlike them, a vampire would not tire, and the pair had barely inflicted any damage.
That quick glance was all she had time for, as the contorted abomination went on the assault, not content to wait any longer. Its foreclaws raised up, slamming down one after the other. One came down for Ioann, the sorcerer nimbly skipping back, even as the other came for Syline. She squealed, leaping back, and found herself going a good three metres from the tiny leap. She stumbled as she touched down on the tiles, Ioann’s green-tinted licks of wind fading from around her ankles.
He winked at her.
‘Fireworks on this one as well, right?’ he asked, rushing it even as he said it.
‘Same rules!’ Amberly called, coming in behind him.
‘Burn, then cut, so it can’t grow back,’ Syline finished.
Ioann had given her a little space and she intended to make use of it. She quickly cast a shielding spell and reduced the power of her flame spear spell to let it last through her future castings. Then, she went right into a fiery arc to supplement Ioann’s flames. Ioann was fighting at its ankles, avoiding each and every swing of its claws and keeping it busy as Amberly scored cuts across any flesh he left burning. But the creature’s form was so thick and fleshy, the duelling sabre couldn’t hope to inflict any dire wounds. Not with Amberly fighting with only one arm.
Syline made the strength of this arc greater than the last, but not too much so, limiting its range to only a single target. She was relying on the staff’s power to boost the spells destructive potential. While usually, the spell would be wielded with grace and dexterity to take down multiple foes at once, now Syline just wished to smother its head in flame and leave it open to a finishing blow. This time, she hoped to give it to the muscular and agile Ioann, easily able to reach its skull. The arc built up within the flame spear, burning forth as a great line of orange-blue fire, hot enough to singe Syline’s cheeks, even as she held the staff up. The creature’s skull was wreathed wholly in the inferno, flesh not just set aflame but bubbling clean off its skull. Its arms flailed wildly, and it screamed horribly, the terrible roar reverberating well past the walls of the manor. The creature stumbled across the ground, sending Ioann sprawling as the side of its forearm caught him full in the chest. That left things up to Syline. She’d been ready to throw her axe to Ioann, but with him rolling across the floor and Amberly nursing her wounded arm, only she stood ready to make the charge.
‘Ioann! I need wind!’ she shouted to the sorcerer as she broke into a sprint at the creature, dropping her staff to take her axe in both hands.
She could only hope that Ioann had heard her and would get his magic ready in time. The creature was blinded, its eyes seared shut, but it heard her footsteps coming for it. Panicked like a cornered animal, it lashed its forelegs her way and Syline only just managed to drop to her knees, sliding right on under the swing. She was utterly unashamed to admit that she felt very graceful. She really felt like a sister of Kat doing that. Now was the do-or-die moment. Its head lolled; she might’ve been able to reach its snout at best without the magic. Her knees tensed and she leapt for all she was worth. She felt the force beneath her, felt herself sailing.
He’d heard her. Syline let out the greatest battle cry she could manage and threw all her strength into an overhead swing. The creature’s skull cracked like porcelain beneath the blow, not merely cleaved in twain but shattering beneath the flesh as the axe sank into its brain. The creature collapsed, bringing Syline back down to the earth as, with a climactic crack, it hit the tiles, shattering all beneath it.
‘No! Enough!’ she heard Jane yell, as she yanked the axe clear. ‘All I’ve done!’ The vampire screeched and Syline turned to see Jane grab Thelonious by both horns and slam him down into the floor so hard that the tiles cracked beneath his head. He didn’t get up. ‘All these years I’ve worked!’
