ena remained sitting in the coffin for a moment after the Summoner vanished up the stairs, feeling utterly despondent.  She picked up a rusty shard of metal and some bits of bone, then threw them down, like a petulant child in a sandbox. Her legs were beginning to thaw out, but only enough to realize that they hurt from her fall into the coffin.  Well, her being dropped by the golem into the coffin, to be precise.

The foot she'd hurt kicking the golem was still numb, but her hand was throbbing from the punch she'd thrown into its face, and tacky blood slicked her grip, or welled forth again if she unclenched her fist.  Even her belly hurt, where the Summoner had nicked her with her own dagger.

With that thought she looked down and realized her blouse was still wide open, exposing her breasts.  Not that there was anyone to see, and not that the Summoner had seemed at all interested in the view, but it infuriated her anyway. She'd always been proud to live as a thief and only a thief, never selling her body for silver despite hundreds of opportunities. To be so rudely-treated, and have her body used as bait , as if she were just some whore, was infuriating. Vena lashed her top closed in two paces, using bits of the slashed drawstring, and fumbled them into clumsy knots.  Her hands weren't as cold as the rest of her, but her right hang was coated in blood and the fingers were throbbing and weak.

Ignoring that for now, and her modesty regained, Vena told herself that she had to get up and get out of this tomb.  With Galliard gone the freezing cold was no more, but in her flimsy clothing she could easily die of exposure if she fell asleep in here. And even if she survived the night, she would live just long enough to be burned at the stake for daring to enter the Royal Cemetery.  Assuming they didn't do something even worse to her once they found the state Galliard's coffin and remains were in.

Taking hold of the sides of the wide coffin, her right hand slippery with blood, she struggled to rise, still unable to push off with her legs.  Falling back, Vena took hold of the side of the coffin with both hands and hauled herself up, sniffing the sickening aroma the was just beginning to notice.  Her legs and side were wet and felt very gritty, and the smell was quite pungent, now that she noticed it.  Rotten fish?

The Summoner had said that Galliard's coffin was under the sea, and his armor rusted, but Vena hadn't realized exactly what that meant.  She was sitting in the dregs of the ocean, with dirty bits of sand and Galliard's bones and armor and who knew what else stick all over her dress and sides and hands. And it smelled terrible.

Vena pushed that out of her mind and pulled herself to the right side of the coffin, noticing with dread that the burning potion was nearly extinguished. The wall where it had burned was scorched, but only a few puddles on the ground were still aflame, and they were guttering as she looked.  The thought of being down here alone in the dark gave her strength, and with a grunt she levered her upper body over the side of the coffin, and then let her weight carry her over, crashing to the stone floor with a grunt of pain.  Her right ankle cracked especially hard, but she hardly felt it.  Being too cold to feel the pain; at least there was one benefit to being numbed by the rape-hungry ancient spectral ghost of the founder of the world's greatest empire.

Assuming she hadn't broken her ankle, anyway.

The smooth stone floor was helpful to her now, as she dragged herself over to the stairs, her right hand leaving thick smears of blood behind her.  Her legs still too cold and weak to support her, Vena had to drag herself up the wide steps to the landing.  There she rested a moment, catching her breath and trying to flex her feet. She could feel them now, but they still had no strength. Looking to the side, up the steps, she expected to see the night sky out the open door, since the Summoner and his golem must be gone by now. Him going first might even be a help, since the guards would likely be after him and she might slip back to the guard house unnoticed.  The dead guards at the cemetery gate would at least be blamed on him.

However she did not see the open doorway at the stop of the stairs.  In fact she saw nothing at all; there was total blackness in that direction.  Had the Summoner closed the door behind him?  Gods, what if his golem had locked it from the outside?

Panic at being trapped gave her strength, and she managed to get to her feet.  Her right leg was throbbing and the foot too tender and numb to support her weight, but the left leg was doing better.  However it was too much work to hop up the stairs on one leg, so Vena had to go back down to her knees and crawl upwards, as quickly as she could.  How was she going to get out of the cemetery if she couldn't even walk?

Halfway up she stopped to rest, clinging to the stairs as if she would fall into the sky if she let go.  Her teeth were chattering and her head spun, and a bolt of agony from her mouth as she bit her tongue nearly made her cry out. Trembling wracked her, and the moaned in agony, her head swimming. So cold.  Even her forehead felt like ice, though it was bone dry.

Vena realized that she'd been rubbing her bleeding hand on her face and blouse, and as she started to crawl again she wondered how on earth she would get through the guard house in her condition.  Even if she could get that far, what must she look like?  No matter how lost to their revelry the soldiers were, there was no way she could slip through covered in blood, limping, and smelling like dead fish, her clothing ripped and covered with dirt and bone dust.

Again, a question to worry about if she even got that far, and even that much musing vanished from her mind when a strong hand clamped down on the back of her neck.  Her watery arms almost collapsed and dropped her to the floor, but the hand gripped the fraying bun of hair she'd tied back earlier, and lifted her up, another arm hooking around her left arm when she was up high enough to grab. Groaning in pain, Vena tried to fight, but she was so weak she could manage only a clumsy left-handed punch towards the midsection of her unseen captor.

Fortunately for her non-damaged hand, this was not the golem again, and though she struck hard armor, it was beneath clothing and not too painful. Her right hand had automatically reached for her dagger, before realizing that the Summoner had kept it.  And her crow bar! She'd left it below on the coffin.  Not that she could have dragged it with her anyway, in her condition.

Ordinarily she carried half a dozen throwing knives, a saber or scimitar, and wore at least hard leather armor beneath her dress or a long robe. But she'd had to sell most of that to buy the damned forgotten pry bar, and couldn't have passed for a tavern wench with it on anyway.  And it was only by posing as a wench that she'd been able to slip through the guard house on the way up to the cemetery, and get close enough to the two guards on duty to cut their throats.

Still she cursed as her aching right hand slapped at her empty belt scabbard, no doubt leaving another incriminating blood smear.  Not that she'd have to worry about that if whoever had grabbed her killed her now.

Fortunately that was not her fate, as a strong man held her up, and spoke quickly into her ear. "Silence!  There are many guards outside, and two Paladins with them."

The man pulled her along, all but carrying Vena up the last 10 steps.  They stopped at the doorway, and once there Vena could hear voices from outside. Male voices, in what sounded like a heated argument, though one held at a low volume. The Summoner's voice in her ear drew her attention before she could begin to despair at the trap she appeared to be in.

"Do you know the streets of this city well?  I can create a distraction and get us a head start, but I know not the back alleys, and we will be pursued most eagerly."

He wanted her to lead him?  Gods!

Gathering her wits and fighting down her fear, Vena spoke. "I know paths through this city no one alive can find.  Once past the Plaza, we can vanish into the back alleys where none will follow."

She'd almost said, "I can vanish..." since she had no intention of spending any longer in the presence of this strange tomb robber, but there was no need to tell him that as of yet.

"You will have to leave this city, I'm afraid." he said.

"Why?"

The man laughed softly, "I think the guards you killed will be rather bent on revenge, and with the aid of those Paladins they will be able to track you anywhere."

Vena was stunned into silence.  There were rumors that Paladins could resurrect the dead, but could this be true? And where had these supposed Paladins come from so suddenly?

"Stay close to me, do what I do.  Which way is it out of the cemetery?"

Vena was confused, "How do you not know the way out of the cemetery?  Did you not enter it yourself tonight?  And how do you know the guards seek me?  Perhaps they followed your trail here." Vena was defensive over him implying that she was the source of their discovery.

Another fit of shaking robbed her of any dignity in her indignation, and only the man's man's strong grip kept her from falling to the floor. Who was she fooling?  She couldn't outrun the high tide in her condition.

Her weakened condition must have been obvious, for the Summoner reached into his robe and pulled out a vial.  Pushing Vena back against the wall, he pressed it to her lips. "Drink this! You must have your strength to run."

Vena had no intention of swallowing some unknown potion, especially not from this man.  Summoners were known for their insidious poisons, and even if it were just another flaming vial, like the one he'd broken downstairs, she didn't fancy burning up from the inside. She held her mouth shut and tried to turn her head aside.

"Fool!" he hissed.  "Can you not tell a healing potion when you smell one?  Now drink it quickly."

Vena was far from convinced, but the man's thumb popped the stopper off, and an incredibly sweet and pungent aroma filled her nose.  Her eyes flew open at the smell, and she could feel her hair standing on end.  The liquid was rich and musty, with hints of flowers and butter.  The Summoner upended it towards her mouth, and as the first thick flow pressed against her lips, Vena couldn't resist opening her mouth and sucking at the ambrosia.  It was thick and viscous, like warm honey, but seemed to melt in her mouth almost before she could swallow a drop.  Vitality and strength flooded her in an instant.

She grabbed for the vial as the man pulled it from her lips, desperate for every last drop.  He laughed quietly, "Smear some on your cut fingers and belly, and it will speed the healing, and hand me the vial when you are done." Vena did as he said, smearing some over her wounded right hand, and felt it beginning to work immediately. The wounds itched as they drew shut, and a warm tingle spread over her entire bruised hand. She ran a finger around the inside of the vial to get every last bit of it, and wished she had time to spread some over her aching feet as the Summoner took the glass from her and tucked it away somewhere inside his robe.

"To answer your accusation, no, they are not here looking for me, and I shall tell you why I know not the way out of the Cemetery."

Vena needed a moment to remember what he was talking about.  Oh yes, she had said perhaps the guards followed him in, rather than her.  A weak argument, given that he'd been there long before she was, now that her mind was working well enough to think properly.

"I entered this tomb days ago, but do you think I could see the path from inside Galliard's coffin?" He paused to give his little laugh again. "I have been here for days, little thief, as long as Galliard has been here himself.  It took me three days to gather the force to summon Galliard's spirit, and then two days to break him to my commands.  I have been plying him with questions ever since. None knew I was here, for I entered his coffin weeks ago, slipping in on the journey here from the coast, and slept on his royal bones for the journey here."

"That's impossible!" Vena was shocked, but kept her voice low. "The trip here from the coast took over a month.  Did you eat bones and drink the sea during the journey?"

"I breathed very little, and ate not at all.  There is much you can not know of me. I will answer your pestering questions once we are free of this place, so hold your tongue for now.  These Paladins are fully grown in their power; this will be a difficult escape."

He took hold of Vena's arm just above the elbow, and led her up the last couple of stairs. She allowed him to pull her, for now, though she felt strong enough to rip free and go her own way. Despite his gift of the healing potion, Vena felt no allegiance to the man.  She'd only needed healing due to his mistreatment in the first place. Summoners were a forbidden clan, hunted without mercy by Paladins and other civilized folk, and if there were Paladins outside they must have come after him. She didn't need to outrun all of the guards, Vena thought with a smirk.  Just the Summoner.

The man brought her to a stop at the top step, and her questing hand felt a rough stone surface.  She was puzzled for a moment, since the inner walls of the crypt were very smooth, until she remembered his golem, and jerked her hand away.

"I will draw them to the doorway, and give my golem the element of surprise.  Once some of the men die, all chaos will break loose.  That is the time we must run.  Do not dally and do not stare, you can not hope to escape without my aid."

Vena doubted that strongly, but spoke no objection now.  She'd believe the two guards were alive when she saw them; rumors of resurrecting Paladins or not.  She was content to let the grave robber divert the guards while she escaped.

At the doorway the man paused and pulled Vena over.  "Scream." he said.  "Scream to wake the dead."

Vena thought this a dubious strategy, but she gave a half-hearted yelp. And why did they want to draw the enemy to them in the first place?

"Scream, damn you." he growled at her.  His hand, held up before her face flared into view, a ghostly bluish-white light shining from his clenched fist.  Vena stared at this sign of sorcery with some concern, until his fingers formed an arcane symbol and the summoner muttered a short incantation under his breath.  He ended it by clenching his fist again, and at that instant Vena felt a spell come over her.  At once she was filled with terror, like ice water poured into her soul.  She sucked in air, and felt her heart stop beating, then explode into such as frenzy that it nearly tore from her chest.

She was powerless in the grip of this sudden fear, and would have run anywhere, down the steps, out into the night, directly into the swords of the enemy.  Anywhere to escape the horror.  She couldn't move though, the man held her fast and his golem blocked the doorway, so she screamed. Oh did she scream.  Opening her mouth as widely as she could, a piercing howl rushed up from her gut and burst forth, the deafening sound echoing off the stone walls on all sides of them.

Gasping in a ragged breath, Vena sobbed as another howl was wrenched from her, her voice breaking as she gave vent to the tortured anguish that filled her to the brim. Her third shriek was like a mouthful of nails, and Vena felt something tear in her throat with a stabbing flash of agony.  Tears streamed down her face and she wailed like a banshee, powerless to contain her horror.

And then it was gone.

Vena fell into the wall, shocked at her emotions.  She'd gone from the blackest terror of her life, in an instant, to feeling normal.  Was she losing her mind?

"My apologies, but only such a tone would have brought them forth." said the robed figure.  Vena was distantly-aware of shouts and the clatter of heavy boots approaching the door, and as her head cleared she realized the Summoner had cast some sort of fright spell on her.  Fury replaced the last bits of fear, and she was suddenly furious. How dare he!

Before she could think further there was sky visible before her, as the door was pulled partially open from the outside.

"Pull, you lot!  Or she'll be ribbons from some avenging spirit before you can get in, and you'll not want revenge on a puddle!"  There was laughter at this, but it came through grunts, for the men outside were working hard to pull open the massive door.  Vena had been able to lever it open herself, so she wondered why they were having such trouble, until enough light entered that she could see the stone golem holding the inside handle.

The Summoner suddenly glowed into sight, a white halo flickering around him.  At his word Vena heard a sharp crack, like metal breaking.  There were shouts from outside and a grunt from the golem, as it released its hold on the door, and gave a mighty shove to the top of the massive slab of stone.  The bottom of the door crunched into the ground, and with the golem's force pushing at it, the huge stone door toppled, falling outwards.

Vena heard screams as the men tried to scramble out from under it, but a wet crunch as the stone fell testified to some being too slow. Vena saw one man crushed beneath the stone, his hands and head sticking out from under it.  Another arm was visible on the other side of the door, so at least two men were flattened between the stone and the flagstone pathway outside. How had the door fallen, Vena wondered, as she looked at the snapped hinges.  The thick metal hinges were now hanging from the wall, the metal left in jagged twists which were still vibrating. Vena remembered the sound of metal snapping a moment before; so the Summoner must have somehow caused them to shatter, allowing the door to fall over, rather than swinging out?

The fabled Necromancers were said to have power over iron and other base elements as part of their alchemy, but this man was surely just a grave robber with some ability to summon spirits?  There weren't really any Necromancers left alive, outside of ghost stories.

She had no more time to ponder this, for the man, Summoner or Necromancer or whatever he was, sent his golem stomping forth. The men outside were just recovering from the door's crushing descent when the walking statue emerged from the darkness of the crypt, taking hold of two men before they could even hope to doge. One man was shaken by the arm and hurled backwards, his suddenly empty shoulder socket gouting blood as he howled in agony.  The golem threw the arm down, then brought its hands together on the other man, crushing his chest almost flat.  The man dropped to the ground without even a sound, dead before a death cry could pass his lips.

Vena no sooner tore her eyes from that sight than the summoner claimed her attention.  He was glowing again, blue and black flames licking from him.  A small white orb appeared at his hands, bright in the darkness, and dozens of small white shards flew from it, seeming to expand in the air.  This flock of darts wriggled in flight, and sought out the retreating guards, burning like acid against their shields and armor.  Two men howled and dropped to the ground, hands clawing at the finger-sized holes burned into their unprotected legs. The summoner launched a second and third volley, and more guards were struck, while others dove behind stone monuments or turned in terror and showed their heels as they vanished down the hillside.

Of the two dozen guards Vena had counted when the door first opened, only half a dozen remained, and as the golem stomped towards them they fell back further, clearly unwilling to risk a fight with such a powerful creature.  She realized she was standing and watching the spectacle instead of running, but before she could turn tail, two shining knights stepped in front of the nervous guards, confidence seeming to shine from them like light from a candle.

Together they gave a cry and raised their swords, and at once their tall kite shields burst into light, a silver glow that outlined the shield and the large cross etched into the metal. These were Paladins!  Vena was thrilled to see them, even though she knew they would take her head if they could. The men were dressed in identical armor, both covered neck to toe with gleaming chain mail.  Each had a bright white jersey emblazoned with a large black cross on, over what looked like breast plates.  Their outfits were completed by matching helmets and face guards.

Vena could only tell them apart by their hair, for one man was clean-shaven with long black hair, while the other wore a bushy silver moustache.  The dark-haired one gave a cry and took a step towards the approaching golem, then vanished from sight. He reappeared several yards away as he smashed into the golem, driving the stone creature back.  At once he was off again, moving as a blur to crash into the golem and knock it back into a burial monument. The paladin's speed was amazing, and with the golem stuck he switched to a shield attack, his arm a blur as he swung his glowing shield repeatedly. Huge chunks of stone were broken off, and as the golem raised an arm in defense, the paladin's blurring shield crashed into it, snapping the limb off at the shoulder.

At the same time the other Paladin cast some sort of holy spell. It created a blue glow that bathed over the half dozen wounded guards near him.  They all stiffened when the light hit them, but after just a few seconds all six got quickly to their feet, seemingly fully healed.  As they stood the Paladin switched tactics, moving from healing to miracle.  With a gesture and a shout he called down a blinding bolt of light from the sky, which struck the man whose chest had been so violently crushed by the golem. Another followed, bathing the armless man where he had fallen, slumped against a monument.  Vena's eyes felt like they were going to pop from her head as both men stirred, groaned, and then stood up, a silver glow in their eyes Their bodies were as damaged as before, but they were alive again.  She gasped in further amazement as she looked closely at the armless man and noted a huge pink scar across his throat.  That was one of the guards she'd killed at the cemetery gate, she was sure of it.  The man met her stare, and he smiled like a wolf, hunger coming into his eyes.  Oh yes, he knew her too.

A shout from the Summoner pulled her attention away from the resurrected guard, and she looked just in time to see the black-robed man glowing white again.  This time, rather than small wriggling darts of light, a ghostly skull appeared in front of him white and flaming brightly enough to light up the surrounding area.  The skull looked human, but was far larger than any man, and it flew forth, straight at the Paladin who was busy beating the golem to gravel.  Another skull followed the first, and then a third and fourth, all streaming straight towards the Paladin. They burned with a heatless, unconsuming white flame, much like Galliard's spirit had.

A shout from his comrade alerted him, and targeted paladin broke off his shield smiting attack upon the hapless golem, and leaped to the side, dodging the first of the glowing skulls.  Vena gasped as the skull passed by the stone monument, then turned left, coming back after the Paladin.  The other three changed direction as well, but before he was hit the paladin began to run.  After one step he was covered in an orange glow as he activated some sort of foot speed boosting magical effect, and Vena gasped again as he tore off down the hill to the south, dodging around headstones and monuments as the four skulls floated along in pursuit.  Vena thought the Paladin was moving fast enough to stay ahead of them, so long as he didn't slip or slow down.  She could not have outrun them when healthy, much less now, which was something to think about if she planned to escape this Summoner.

Tearing her attention back to current events was the Summoner's golem, which stomped past the crypt doorway, somewhat the worse for wear, but still moving quickly. Its chest was crumbled like an old sea cliff, one arm and most of its head was entirely gone, and the monument it had been knocked back into was badly damaged as well.  Yet the golem walked on, and Vena hurried after it, seeing the summoner beckoning her along.

Their prospects of simply walking away were ended immediately, as the city guards, rallied by the actions of the Paladins, moved to block their way.  About a dozen men crowded into an open space to the side of the Tomb of the Fallen Prince, and waited with their weapons ready, the two freshly-resurrected men among them.

The one-armed man eyed the one-armed Golem, and apparently emboldened by so recently cheating death, he strode forward with his sword at the ready. His bravado proved unwise, for the golem simply ignored the slash of the man's sword, and moved to strike him while the sword was bouncing off its already crumbling head. Lashing out with its one arm, the golem struck the man in the side of the head, knocking him flying with a crunch like a dropped basket of eggs. Even before the dead man hit the ground, the remaining Paladin called down a bolt of light, and one-arm was resurrected for the second time.  He struggled to his feet awkwardly, his head half crushed and tilted to the side so badly that one ear was pressed almost to his empty shoulder socket.

As the golem caught hold of another man, the silver-haired paladin began to cast a spell.  The Necromancer (for that was how Vena was coming to think of him) beat him to it though, and as the golem ripped out the guard's throat, dropping the body without ceremony, the Necromancer's spell was cast.  The man on the ground, his missing throat spurting blood as his heart kept beating, twitched once, hissed for a second, and then swelled up like he was being inflated.  After another second the Necromancer's spell took full hold and he simply detonated, bursting apart like a dropped tomato.

Vena was the farthest away, more than twenty feet from the corpse, and she still fell to the ground in disgust and horror, entirely painted red by the man's splattered blood.  Bits of bone had struck her as well, and they stung.  For the guards near the explosion, the pain was much worse, and they were all down on the ground.  Most of them rolled around and screamed in pain and shock and revulsion, but several were motionless, dead or unconscious from the human shrapnel. Of the exploded man, there was no sign.  Just a smear of flesh and blood, and long shallow crater like a hastily-dug grave. Even the golem had taken heavy damage at the very close range, and was walking with a bad limp due to a damaged right leg.  It was still on the attack though, and moved towards the silver-haired Paladin.  The knight had blocked most of the explosion with his enchanted shield, but was still splattered in blood and stunned by the blast.  He man saw the golem coming just in time to block the first attack, but the force of the stone creature's blow sent him sliding backwards over blood-slicked grass.

Vena would have continued staring dumbly if not for the Necromancer, who yanked her to her feet and dragged her along as he ran down the hillside, away from the battle.

"Which way to the back streets?  They'll be after us soon, and will raise the alarm for the whole city."

Vena couldn't think, and she looked wildly off into the night, searching for known landmarks.  The future tomb of the Godking was to the left, and that was bad. 

"We can't go this way! The gate is back to the east!" Vena despaired, for they were almost on the opposite side of the cemetery hill from the exit.

The Necromancer pulled her along when she tried to stop. "I can get us past any fence."

Vena knew that was hopeless, unless his golem could bash through the metal bars?  It was back behind them though, occupying the guards and Paladin, and it was not fleet of foot.

Their situation was made even worse once they could see the fence.  Far from being able to make a stealthy exit, it appeared that they would have to fight their way out, since there was a huge mob gathered, and a roar went up from the other side of the fence as Vena and the Necromancer came out of the cemetery and into their view.  The battle atop the hill must have created quite a light show, and attracted the attention of the crowds below.  The people didn't know what was happening, but all knew the Royal Cemetery was forbidden.  There was no way a blood-covered tavern girl and a tall old man in a black robe would be allowed to pass by, even if they could get through the bars.

Vena prayed the Necromancer had another few tricks up his sleeve.  Perhaps he could scatter the crowd with a few more exploding corpses? Before she could think of anything else, the Necromancer hurled her to the ground.  Vena looked back as she twisted and landed hard on her side, and was just in time to see a flash of silver.  She rolled over and slid into a tombstone, her eyes widening at the sight of a Paladin passing between her and the Necromancer.  He smashed into a small stone statue, breaking it in half with the impact, but bounced off at once, unhurt.  Turning towards the Necromancer, his sword at the ready, his shield glowing, he spoke loudly.

"Yield, foul Necromancer.  You will receive a fair trial, and be purged of your evils in our holy court." This was the first Paladin, Vena realized.  He must have outrun the glowing skulls, and circled around to hunt them down?  He was a handsome man, young and confident, black of hair with a long pony tail hanging down his back.  He wore a white cape with a black cross, and sported another on the jersey that covered his chest plate.

"Ha!  A fair trial before the Inquisitors?" The Necromancer replied. "After which I'll receive a fair execution beneath the great rollers, pressing the sin out of me like water from a rag? I think not. Run home to your masters, little dog."

The Paladin was not the least deterred. "Your day passes to dusk, Necromancer.  Your kind are no more; the filth of your undead religion has been cleaned from the earth.  Yield or die, you can not match me in combat."

The Necromancer remained on one knee, staring at the young Paladin who stood before him, just out of sword range. "There must be quite a bounty for my kind, if you are so eager to take me alive.  You will claim no prize for my head, pup."

At this the Paladin surged forwards, his sword glowing. He brought it down with a blur, meaning to cleave the Necromancer in two. Vena feared all was lost, then gasped as the man in black blocked the sword with his forearm.  There was a crunch, like bone breaking, but the Necromancer obviously had some sort of armor on, armor strong enough to absorb the Paladin's strike. As he blocked, the Necromancer slashed at the Paladin's sword arm, a glowing green dagger in his grip. The blow looked like a scratch at best, but the Paladin leaped with a shout, cradling his arm with a look of horror on his face.  Vena couldn't imagine how the tiny dagger, her dagger from the looks of the handle, could have done the mighty Paladin any real damage.  He wore heavy ring mail down his arms, and metal gauntlets over each hand.

Yet the man was wounded.  He fell back another step, bumping into a large headstone, and dropped to one knee, clutching at his wounded arm.  His sword dropped to the earth, and he looked up, his eyes wild, his mouth gaping in shock.  He released his grip to stare down at the wound, and Vena got a look at it too.  There was a neat slice right through his chainmail armor, the padded shirt beneath it, and his white skin.  Dark greenish bile was already bubbling out of the wound, and with a gasp the Paladin fell to all fours, dry heaving as ropes of saliva descended from him mouth to the wet grass.  A greenish light suddenly glowed forth from his body, and he ripped at the sod with his shield-arm, groaning with effort and pain.

Vena was yanked to her feet by the Necromancer, and he dragged her after him as they covered the last few yards to the fence, where the mob awaited them.

"Will he die from the poisoned blade?"

"Perhaps, but I think he can cleanse himself, though it will take time.  And time is what we need."

"Why not kill him?" Vena asked.  She looked in fascination as the Necromancer threw down the dagger.  The weapon bounced in the grass, the blade almost entirely eaten away by the poison that continued to consume it.

"His kind die hard, and in any event, the other Paladin will be here soon.  There are thousands of Paladins, and they spread like rats in a grain cellar. One more or less hardly matters at this point.  This one would be resurrected, or another just like him would come to take his place.  None will step forward to replace me should I fall."

The fence was now before them, and just a few yards on the other side of it a mob of armed men howled for their blood.  The crowd had many city guards in it, but there were others; masons and laborers from the Godking's Temple, merchants, layabouts, and city men of every type, most of them out drinking to the Godking, and drawn by the lights and sounds of battle from the cemetery hill.  The men in the front row had been close enough to hear the Paladin's speech, and had seen his fall.

"Foul Necromancer!"

"Die scum!"

"Villainous whore!"

The shouts came from the mob like a swarm of bees, constant and unending.  Their hatred boiled forth, and Vena was glad no one had a crossbow.  Many of the men were spitting at the fence, while others threw bits of trash, small stones, or even hurled the flowers and food and other offerings that had been made to the Godking.  In addition to the hatred and throwing, the crowd was surging back and forth, as the men who fought to the front found themselves confronted by the deadly barbs and points of the fence, and pushed back to keep themselves from being crushed. As more and more people packed into the area it looked like the front row was going to be skewered at any minute.  Vena wouldn't mourn their deaths, but it would in no way help her escape.

The Necromancer studied the enraged faces for a moment, then raised his glowing hands to the sky and began chanting quickly in an unknown tongue.  The shouts from the mob drowned him out, their threats and insults growing even louder at this display of evil magic.  After a moment the Necromancer lowered his arms and pointed out over the Great Plaza, making stabbing motions with his hands as he shouted out strange words.  Vena understood nothing, but it was clear the Necromancer was casting spells very rapidly. She could see faint colored lights, like glowing clouds of red, green, blue, white, and every other color.  These clouds appeared here and there over the crowd but dissipated almost instantly, leaving just a light sprinkle of glowing dust to drop down, and even that vanished around head height.  It looked like his spells were fizzling, but in just seconds the results proved her impression very wrong.

Madness erupted all through the Great Plaza.

The mob convulsed, their howls growing even louder, but their attention turned from the two inside the Royal Cemetery.  Men burst into tears, attacked each other, or ran in every direction.  Panic consumed them, turning the violent gang into hundreds of terrified individuals.  Dozens ran or were shoved into the fence, slicing and slashing themselves on the razor points and barbs, while others fell to the ground, holding their heads and screaming. The Necromancer continued chanting and casting his curses at the horde, for new and unaffected people were running up, filling the voids created in the panicking and dying ranks.

In just half a minute the mob was broken.  There were still hundreds of armed men in the area, but they were in no condition to do any directed harm.  Some had slashed at each other, many others had slashed at themselves, and dozens lay on the flagstones, sobbing or vomiting or beating their heads into the earth.  It was as if an asylum had been disgorged upon the Great Plaza.

"What did you do to them?" Vena asked, breathlessly.

"What they deserved.  I visited them with terror, confusion, blindness, decrepitude, and more, as fast as I could Curse. Most of them are just overwhelmed now, for few of the curses last very long.  We must be quick before they recover."

He started chanting again, and moving his arms around, and Vena stood back, wondering what next.  She also remembered how quickly she'd gone from complete panic back to normalcy, when he'd cursed her in the crypt, and realized that yes, they did need to hurry.  Some or all of the mob could snap out of their fugue at any moment.

Fortunately the Necromancer was quick, and after just a few seconds his spell was cast.  With a sharp crack three of the tall iron fence posts snapped off at ground level.  They stood motionless for a long second before the one to the left started to slowly fall outwards.  Vena grimaced as it descended, and she watched it pick up speed as it fell, before hitting the milling crowd like a scythe.  At least a dozen men were crushed or skewed on the fence post spikes, and many more were brushed or wounded by it.

The second post followed suit, but it toppled sideways, bouncing off another post and crashing to the earth at the base of the fence.  It hit nothing but a couple of dead bodies, men killed by being forced into the fence during the panic the Necromancer's first burst of cursing had created. The third post fell sideways, but was caught on an undamaged post next to it and remained standing, though it leaned crazily and looked ready to topple into the cemetery at the first high wind. Vena kept a wary eye on it as she let the Necromancer pull her long, and they passed through the opening in the fence quickly, entering the Great Plaza in a way no other people ever had.

The plaza was a huge circle that completely surrounded the Royal Cemetery like a vast brick moat.  For hundreds of years there had been just one permanent structure on the entire open space of the Great Plaza, and it was the Royal Cathedral.  A second building was now underway, the new crypt of the Godking, and the vast looming empty structure was visible far to the left, hundreds of torches illuminating the structure while the scaffolding teemed with workers, even at this hour.  Obviously not everyone had come to the cemetery fence to see what the light show atop the highest hill was.

It seemed like everyone though, as Vena and the Necromancer picked their way through the plaza, dodging men who appeared to be utterly insane. The Necromancer continued to cast his spells here and there, aiming them for knots of men standing around or who appeared to be coming out of whatever madness his last Curse had induced. Vena watched in silence as the colorful clouds of glowing dots appeared here and there, sinking down over the heads of men and driving them to crazed behavior. Some fell blind, others ran madly off in random directions, while still more fell to their knees and screamed up at the moon.  Their panic affected others in the Plaza who were out of range of the curses, and all was pandemonium as men ran in every direction.  Small knots of panicked guards savaged anyone they could catch, strangers clung to each other in mortal terror, and mobs formed and dispersed in seconds, attacking anyone who looked like they might be the cause of this madness.

Adding to the confusion was the fact that many were in costume, for was this Hallow's Eve.  The holiday had been made less of this year, with the excitement over the return of the God King trumping the normal festivities.  But some men were still out in masks and paint, though they were regretting it. What was normally a festive lark had become a death struggle, and Vena saw three men trying to tear off their costumes while others pursed them with shouts of murder, seemingly convinced that they were real demons, and possibly the cause of this madness.

The fact that every man out at this hour had been drinking since before dark certainly helped add to the confusion, and as they moved on Vena saw more brawls than madness.  Sailors in pirate costumes fought farmers in gleaming tin armor, roughnecks fought uniformed city guards, and merchants and minor nobles ran for their lives, their bodyguards having abandoned them or died in their defense.  Vena saw few women, and they were also running for their lives, for once unable to command attention with a careful display of bared skin.

Vena and the Necromancer moved quickly through the carnage, Vena pausing to snatch up a discarded cloak.  The Necromancer pulled two short swords from the back of a dead man, and handed her one wordlessly.  These came in handy a moment later, for as they finally neared the edge of the Plaza, two guards charged at them, howling for blood.  Whether these men knew them for what they were, or were just attacking out of madness did not matter.

Vena ducked to the side, parrying one clumsy slice and kicking her attacker hard in the side of the knee.  The man stumbled and she drove her blade into his throat, ripping his neck open to the spine.  He dropped to his belly, writhing as he died, and she turned to see the Necromancer grappling with the other man, their blades locked.  The guard was as tall and far wider then the Necromancer, but their strength appeared to be even, surprising Vena.

She considered running for a moment, taking this chance to escape on her own, but rejected that for the time being.  It was easy to slash the back of the guard's knees, and with his hamstrings cut he collapsed, earning a deep slice across the mouth from the Necromancer's blade as he fell screaming.

Just then a small mob of men came running from the east, blank stares of panic on their faces, and Vena and the Necromancer fell in beside them, trotting along until they were clear of the Great Plaza, then pulling away into a side street.

Here were dozens more men, all in some sort of shock.  Most sat and stared blankly at the ground, while others sobbed uncontrollably.  Two bar maids in ripped clothing, one oozing blood from a slash across her forehead, knelt against the side of a building and sobbed onto each other's shoulders.  Next to them a man wearing a baker's apron and a blank stare cradled the stump that his wrist had become, blood pooling in the alley beside him.

Vena ignored them all, fixing her new cloak tightly around her neck and pulling the hood forwards.  The cloak was enormous, evidently the former property of a very large man, and she was able to pull it closed in front of her.  A comforting feeling.  Beside her the Necromancer had pulled his hood forwards so that only the tip of his nose could be seen.  He walked quickly, his long strides setting the pace so that Vena had to almost run to keep up.

Five minutes saw them out of the Plaza outskirts, and into a less crowded and un-panicked area of the city. The Necromancer did not slow his pace, and spoke not at all, other than to ask Vena to point if they turned wrong.  She was setting their course, but roughly, as she tried to think of where they might hide. As they moved they passed hundreds of people, but on this night and with so much ale in them, no one spared them a glance. Every tavern was open, and light and travelers spilled out the doors, many sitting at tables outside, toasting each other in their stupid Godking joy.  No word of the events in the Royal Graveyard had reached them yet, an ignorance Vena was very happy to see.

Passing these taverns by in their hurry, Vena led the Necromancer down increasingly narrow and dirty paths.  Behind them great bells began to ring, and horns could be heard. Vena started, and listened as the Necromancer spoke.

"The Paladins will be organizing search parties now, and the city gates will be locked.  They are not trackers, but they will search diligently, and soon have the whole city looking for us. We must leave Balain immediately."

Vena felt cold, and kept walking quickly. She'd thought that perhaps they had lost their pursuers in the chaos in the Great Plaza, but apparently things weren't so easy.  She didn't know how they could get out of the city.  There were only a few exits, and all were heavily guarded, both by soldiers and archers.  The tricks the Necromancer had displayed back in the cemetery would not prove so successful if men could just shoot them from a distance.

"Is there an exit that's not guarded, but blocked off? Bricked up perhaps, or can we enter a building that's part of the outer wall?"

Vena thought it over for a moment.  "Yes, there are some old buildings in the East Quarter that are part of the wall.  They are many stories tall and sit atop a hillside.  This way."

Hallow's Eve revelers passed them as they walked quickly to the South, city men, some still wearing their brightly-painted holiday masks, sheathed swords in their hands as they ran to answer the ringing bells.

"Ahh, for a horse." said the Necromancer, and Vena noticed that he was beginning to limp as he walked.

"Horses are not found in this land, Necromancer. Just draft oxen, for pulling carts."

"Yes, I know." he replied.  "The influence of the Paladins has spread across much of the world, and expands still."

Vena was silent.  What did Paladins have to do with there being no horses?

"I shall answer your unspoken question, little thief." said the Necromancer, startling Vena by speaking exactly what she'd just been thinking. "Paladins have an ability, they call it an aura, that lets them run farther and faster than any other man.  If men have no horses they can not travel quickly, or over long distances, and are easier to control.  Mages of all types revere horses.  Spell-casters are accustomed to study and meditation, rather than running about in heavy armor.  So the Paladins influence the rulers to forbid horses, thus inconveniencing the common man, and crippling their mage enemies."

Vena wasn't sure about this, but it was interesting to think of. She'd heard of sorceresses and mages and Necromancers, but they were never seen in these days.  Paladins were held up as keepers of the peace and faith, and allied with the mysterious Assassins, who were the true mage-killers.  All her life she'd heard that mages were deceivers, thieves and rogues who would murder without a thought.  They possessed magical powers over the elements, and no common man could hope to stand against them.  She'd thought that Paladins hunted these outlaw mages for the good of the people.

"A common misconception, and one that the Paladins work hard to spread."

Vena was shocked at his words.  He'd given her the impression that he could read her mind several times, but this was too much.

"Can you hear what I'm thinking?" she thought, angrily.

"Yes, but only when it's your uppermost thought, and I have time to listen."

At his words Vena stumbled, but kept going.  Her thoughts were a jumble.  Had he known she was planning to leave him at the first opportunity?  Did he know what she was thinking right now?  How could she travel with a man who knew her inner secrets?  Fortunately the Necromancer remained silent, and Vena brooded as she walked, trying to think of several things at once, to throw him off, but only succeeding in filling her head with nonsense.

"You'll soon learn to shield your thoughts from me, little thief.  Once you know someone is looking for them, it's not so hard to set up a wall of protection."

Vena remained silent at this, and picked up her pace even more.  Lights were coming on in every house they passed in this residential district, and faces appeared in windows, awakened by the bells that continued to ring.  Everyone they passed was running the other way, towards the call to arms, and several gave them suspicious looks.  Vena hardly noticed. How could she learn to shield her thoughts, when she'd never done it before?  Never considered that it was necessary, or even that it was possible? Her companion remained silent.

Another fifteen minutes of walking took them near the outer wall.  They were into the Eastern Quarter now, a long, narrow spar of the city, home to most of the cargo and shipping businesses.  There were several outer gates here, but these were among the most heavily-guarded in the entire city, due to the valuable wagon trains that came through here every day.  The great Eastern Way led away from Balain here, and in fact this was the route Galliard's coffin had taken coming in.  And the Necromancer in it, if he was to be believed.

The bells ringing, calling citizens to the defense of the Great Cathedral, were actually helpful here, since this section of the town was usually well-patrolled at night, in Vena's experience.  City Guards mixed with packs of roughnecks, hired by the shipping merchants to keep their wares safe, and strangers were not welcome in this district after business hours. Vena led the way through back alleys and kept in shadow as much as possible, so they could hide if they heard a patrol coming.  To her surprise, her precautions proved unnecessary. Every spare man must have headed to the Great Plaza already, or pulled back to guard their own territory, for they met no one as they walked.

The warehouse Vena was leading them to was one of the largest and oldest in the district, and getting into it might not be much easier than getting through a city gate, for it was well-guarded.  She put that thought uppermost in her mind, seeing if the Necromancer would notice.

"Yes, I hear you.  I see the warehouse entrance in your thoughts as well, but we do not need to breach such hardened defenses.  Killing or driving the men away would create a disturbance and bring guards, or perhaps even Paladins.  Stealth and secrecy are our tools, for those who hunt us would not stop their pursuit at the city gates, and they will travel faster than we can."

Vena was worried by this; somehow she'd thought that once they got outside, they'd be safe.  A stupid assumption on her part, in retrospect.

At last they reached the warehouse, and peeking around a corner, Vena pointed out the entrance.  Five men stood before a wide double door, all well armed and armored.  Above the door was a lighted window, almost like a turret, and two more men could be seen inside of it.  Vena was sure they had explosive potions and crossbows at their disposal, as well as horns to summon help if needed.

"They keep their silk under tighter guard than their Godking." the Necromancer snarled. He peered at the building for a long minute, and then began to chant.

"You said we must not attack!" Vena whispered, worried.

The Necromancer ignored her and continued chanting, then stepped out and gestured at the guarded doorway.  Vena saw a cloud of pink light cover the entire area, then quickly dissipate as it drifted down over the men.  None of them appeared to be affected though, and as Vena was going to ask what had gone wrong the Necromancer grabbed her arm and pulled her after him, walking quickly right at the guards.

"Come on.  Quickly!  They won't see us."

Vena couldn't believe it, but as they were already out in the middle of the street, and less than twenty yards from the men, and no shouts were coming at them, the Necromancer appeared to know what he was doing.

"Silence!" He hissed. "They can't see very far, but I did not deafen them!"

They walked less than ten yards from the men, Vena almost on her tip toes, staring at the guards in fascination.  None of them flinched at the two black-robed figures walking right in front of them, and just a few seconds later they were save, squeezed into a narrow alley between two warehouses.  The great outer city wall was immediately to their right.  It loomed as high overhead as the cemetery fence had, but was stone, and much thicker, supposedly over twenty feet of stone, with pockets of poisonous and explosive gas here and there inside, as traps for diggers.

Turning from the city wall to the wall of the warehouse, the Necromancer placed his hands on the rough stone, and began to chant.  Vena stepped back, wondering what he could do to get them through solid stone.  How had she come to this place anyway, trusting totally to this unknown man to keep her alive?  She was supposed to be leading him into the sewers or the slums that nestled outside the Western wall, leading him to places she could blend into the crowd and vanish from any pursuer.  Instead she was trapped in an alley, one that was checked by a roaming security party at least twice an hour, and pursued by at least two apparently-unkillable Paladins. Plus her raid into the Royal Cemetery had netted her nothing but pain and a few new scars, and actually cost her money, since she'd lost her prybar and dagger. She sighed, resigned to following this course for now.

It took him about twenty seconds, by far the longest he'd needed to cast any spell thus far, but finally the Necromancer stepped back from the wall.  Vena watched, seeing nothing.  It took a moment, but she finally noticed a narrow opening appeared in the wall.  It was as if a hand's width of the stone was dissolving, turning to sand and vanishing into the building.  This several inch wide strip ran along the top of the wall for several feet, expanding in both directions, and then turned downwards, each side running towards the ground, then along the street level.  Once the lines running along at ground level met, there was a heavy thud, as the rectangular chunk of masonry dropped about four inches.

Vena stared, amazed.  It now looked like a doorway was cut into the side of the warehouse, like a picture frame of empty space had been carved out.  Unfortunately the doorway was blocked by the wall that had been so outlined.  Vena pushed it but it felt just as solid as the wall next to it.  She knew it was just a large chunk of stone but she couldn't have moved it even if she still had the crowbar.

Suddenly there was a grinding sound, and she leaped back as the chunk of wall began to move outwards. The Necromancer stood aside, Vena next to him, and together they watched the outlined section of wall inch into the alleyway.  The warehouse wall was thicker than Vena had imagined, the alley was narrow, and when the stone golem finally pushed the entire wall far enough clear that they could slip past him into the warehouse, the piece of wall was nearly touching the building on the other side of the alley.

Inside the warehouse was pitch black, and Vena pulled out her wick and matches, happy to at last be able to do something of use. As the match flared to life, the Necromancer looked sharply at her. "Did I say to light a fire?  What if there were light sensitive wards?"

Vena blushed, but as he didn't tell her to blow out the flame, she kept it burning.  The stone golem squeezed out into the alleyway, and began to laboriously push the wall back into place.  It was about four feet thick, Vena figured, and must weigh a couple of tons.

"You're leaving the golem outside?" she asked.

"It can push the wall back more easily from the outside, and has served its purpose."

They walked to the right, up to the outer wall of the warehouse that was also the outer wall of the city, and the Necromancer rested his hands on it.

"This wall is enchanted, just as the city walls are.  We will be detected if we attempt to breach it."

Vena's heart sunk.  What were they to do now?

"Sit down.  Be silent.  I must concentrate."

Vena sat on a crate and stretched her legs, suddenly aware of how tired she was.  It was very late at night, she'd been awake all day, and running for her life for the past couple of hours.  That healing potion had picked her up for a time, but she could feel it wearing off, and her body aching once again.  She was starving also, but didn't think that even this Necromancer could conjure up a roast duck.

Outside of the warehouse she heard the thumping of the golem as it finished pushing the wall back into place, then and stomped off.  A minute later there were shouts and then screams as it attacked the guards at the main warehouse entrance.  Vena listened intently, expecting it to crash into the doorway, but there was no such sound, and in fact the shouts of the guards were leading away, growing fainter.

"How far is it to the closest gate?" the Necromancer asked her, his voice weak and hollow.  Vena looked at him and gasped, for he was faintly-outlined in a white glow, and was sitting in midair, hovering several feet above the stone floor of the warehouse.

"Two blocks to the northeast." she replied, wondering what he was doing.

"I'm marching the golem to the gate." he answered her thought in his amazing way. "It will attack the guard post and damage the outer wall in the process.  I don't think they can tell exactly where a break in the wall occurs, so the hole we make here will probably not be detected quickly."

Vena wondered how they were going to make a hole in what was at least six or eight feet of solid stone with the Golem gone, but she kept silent. Faintly, she could hear a crash, and then horns blowing in the night.

"They keep firing arrows at it.  These men have gone too long without any real battle."  Vena looked at the Necromancer's face as he talked, studying his half smile.  She could not determine his age at all.  He looked old, with his eyes closed, like someone's grandfather, but there was an edge of steel to him at all times, like a battle leader.  And when his eyes were open they were the lightest pale blue she had ever seen, and filled with cruel determination.

Five minutes passed.  The Necromancer was silent the whole time, while horns blew and blew, and there was another crash, loud enough to be easily heard.  Finally the man extended his legs and dropped lightly to the floor, though he continued to glow with a white light.

"The golem killed most of the guards, and finally succumbed to half a battalion wielding enchanted mauls.  It did substantial damage to the wall though.  The Paladins have arrived, and are leading a search of this area of the city.  They probably think we are hiding in a building within sight of the gate, and had been planning to run out once the golem defeated the guards. They'll check here soon, and probably outside as well, just to be sure we didn't slip away.  We must be quick."

As he talked the Necromancer had been running his hands over the outer wall.  The instant he stopped talking he stepped back several yards, pushing Vena back as well.  "This will be violent." he said, then went into action, chanting and gesturing rapidly.  Vena could hear footfalls over the Necromancer's voice, and she held her breath as shouting voices entered the narrow alleyway they had come through.  She torch light shining down the way, through the hand-wide opening in the wall that the Necromancer had formed his stone golem out of. Would the men see the missing outline of stone?

Luck was on their side, for the searchers didn't appear to enter the alleyway far enough to notice, and soon the footsteps ran off.  An instant later there was an explosive sound from her left, and chunks of rock blasted from the outer wall, smaller bits and dust pattering down all around the warehouse.  One fist-sized chunk bounced into Vena's ankle with a painful crunch and she dropped down to rub it while hoping the search party had been too far away to hear the blast.

She looked over at the wall the Necromancer had just detonated, and took in the sight of a very ragged stone golem.  It was imperfectly-formed, one leg still a part of the wall, its arms jagged with chunks of rock, the face a great bulging blob with nothing resembling human features.  It raised its arms overhead, took an awkward half step to the side, and suddenly crumbled into rubble.  The hole in the wall it had come from was deep, over three feet, and as the Necromancer continued chanting Vena stepped back behind him, wanting more protection from the rock shrapnel next time.

As it turned out she didn't need it, for the next malformed golem appeared and crashed out of the wall with less of an explosion.  This one had legs that were far longer than usual, and one arm was fused to its torso, but it could walk, and it stomped to the side, moving out of their way, before collapsing in a shower of gravel, much as the previous one had.  The Necromancer began to gesture again, and Vena covered her ears in anticipation.

This third one made the least noise yet, and she uncovered her ears and stepped out from behind the Necromancer.  As the golem crawled out of the wall and fell to the ground, Vena's eyes widened at the sight.  There was a hole, right through the wall, probably eight feet deep. It was almost a tunnel, but wide enough for her to crawl through, and through it she could see the night sky and some stars just above the horizon.  Fresh air wafted in as well, clearing away the musty stink of this old warehouse.  She kept her eyes on the opening, almost expecting a chrome helmet to pop into view.  None did.

"Hurry!" the Necromancer urged, and leading the way, he practically dove into the opening, scrambling through it on his knees, before dropping into a belly crawl at the narrow exit end. Vena was thinner and had an easier time fitting through, her progress sped along by the stone golem suddenly giving her legs a shove as she went.

The Necromancer grabbed her arm and shoulder as she emerged, pinching out her small candle, which Vena kicked herself for not thinking of.  As if they wanted to be standing outside the wall in the dark night, with a flame to give them away.  It was a good thing he took her arm and lifted her down, since the ground outside was lower than the warehouse, and it was more than her height down to the earth outside the city.

Vena looked back up at the black opening, her attention drawn by the grinding of rock.  Was the golem climbing out also?  She didn't think it would fit.

As it turned out it couldn't, but that was part of the plan. The stone creature wedged itself back into the hole, sounding like a small avalanche as it twisted into the small opening and then with a flash of light the Necromancer returned it to inanimate rock.  Rock that completely filled the hole they had emerged from.  There was no going back now, but Vena thought this would probably confuse any searchers inside the warehouse, since it would look as if they'd dug out a bunch of the rock, but hadn't had time to make it all the way through.

"Which way to the nearest hills?  Rocky land, mountains if possible.  We must reach them before dawn." There was urgency in the Necromancer's voice.

Vena had not often been outside the walls of Balain, but she knew there were high rocky bluffs not far from town, several miles from the East road.  Her thought was a loud one, apparently, for the Necromancer took off at a fast trot, straight away from the city.  Vena looked back and saw torches burning atop most of the walls, and men milling around the golem-damaged gate half a mile to the southeast.  None were pursuing them though, so the flash of light the Necromancer had created when he dispelled the golem must have gone unnoticed.  She could see the guards and their torches clearly from here, but by the back of this huge warehouse she and the Necromancer were in deep shadow, and invisible from a distance.

Turning, Vena could just barely pick out the Necromancer in the darkness and she set herself after him, jogging to catch up.

It was a good thing their exit had been silent enough to avoid pursuit, since in less than thirty minutes both of them were laboring badly.  Vena's legs were killing her.  The healing potion had improved her for a time, but the effect seemed to be gone, and the same aching she had felt when Galliard's icy flames covered her legs was back.  Her foot, bruised when she'd kicked the stone golem, throbbed with every step as well.  She did not know what specifically ailed the Necromancer, but he was hobbling and gasping for breath, no doubt weakened by the weeks spent lying in the Godking's damp coffin. Neither of them voiced a complaint though, well aware of the need for haste.

Another thirty minutes brought the rocky cliffs into sight, but the sky was beginning to grow light as well.  Vena had looked back ten minutes before, nearly falling when she saw hundreds of points of light spreading out from the city.  Their escape route had probably been detected or perhaps the searchers were looking everywhere, just in case. In either event, they were gaining on her and the Necromancer, and if they were close enough to see them when the sun came up, the pursuit would never end.  And neither she nor the man she ran with were in shape to keep going for much longer.

Fifteen more minutes and the sky was light gray, but the cliffs were at last before them, and the Necromancer came to a halt, bending over, his hands on his knees, his hood thrown back to let him breath and cool down.

"I don't... think I... can climb...." Vena gasped out as she stopped next to him, dropping to one knee and struggling to breath.  Her legs throbbed, and she rubbed an aching spot below her ribs with one fist. Black spots were dotting in and out of her vision, and she clenched her fists to try and keep from fainting.

The Necromancer didn't even try to speak, just straightened up and hobbled towards the cliffs.  Vena started to follow him, before realizing that she couldn't have gotten up to save her life.  She could barely breath, and now that she'd stopped she felt like she might have to vomit. Her legs were lead, and the ache in her side felt like a red hot poker being driven into her kidney. The Necromancer was doing better than she, despite his ordeal over the past month, and as Vena looked on through watering eyes, he stopped near a large crack in the cliff face and looked it up and down.

The light continued to increase, though fortunately the cliffs were to the east of them, so cast a shadow over she and the Necromancer, making them effectively invisible to anyone from a distance. But not for much longer. What was he doing?

The fissure in the cliff zigzagged upwards about fifty feet, and a large pile of rubble and boulders had collected on the ground below it. The crevice was perhaps deep enough to shelter from rain, assuming it wasn't the gutter that the rain actually ran down from the heights, but it was not deep enough to offer any concealment from searchers. Vena could not see what the Necromancer hoped to do here.  They had to keep moving. Back behind them she could see points of light in the gray morning, still far off, but closer than they'd been last time she looked.

Vena was finally able to stand, and once back on her feet she noticed an ache in her right hip.  It was almost a surprise to find a sword there, tucked through her belt.  She could remember holding it while she ran, but at the time it had all been a blur. She could remember using the sword back in the Great Plaza, but the entire escape since then was a blur.   Looking at the weapon now in the dim morning light, Vena was impressed.  This was definitely good enough to steal, or earn a fair price if pawned.  But it would not do to fight off a squad of Balain's City Guard, and if they didn't get moving or vanish in about 15 minutes, that's the use she would be putting it to. She didn't want to be captured, not with the punishment for her crimes this night.  If worse came to worse, she'd turn the blade on herself, rather than be taken alive.

Just Vena realized even that might not be an escape from torture, not with those Paladins on her trail, the Necromancer began to mumble a spell.  How he had the breath to do so was beyond Vena, but she urged him on silently.  Light red clouds appeared off to both sides of them, over some thick scrub brush, and Vena saw a faint red smudge atop the cliff, hundreds of feet above them.  She hoped it wasn't visible to those pursuing them.

"Take... cover..." the Necromancer gasped, as he moved past her and stood behind an ancient tree trunk.  By now Vena knew better than to ask questions, and staggered after him wordlessly.  Just as she reached the shelter a huge crash sounded behind her, and she turned to see a deer bouncing to the earth, blood splashing from its mouth.  What in the hells?

Behind her came another crash, this one much louder, and she jumped, whacking her head into a limb and dropping to her butt with a yelp. Vena rubbed her head, tears in her eyes, then froze in shock as the mighty stag that had just fallen from the sky raised his head and bellowed.  Vena looked up just in time to see a third deer come plummeting downwards, and she gasped in horror as the doe landed on a boulder fallen from the base of the cliff, splitting her belly open on the sharp stone.  Blood splashed across the rocks and the animal flipped over and landed on her back, immediately flopping over and scrambling to her three working legs, the fourth hanging limply.  The animal managed two stumbling steps towards the tree trunk Vena and the Necromancer were covering behind, before collapsing with a snort. The deer's head was half crushed from the impact, and her hind legs trod her steaming entrails into the ground, but she still kicked twice in the dirty before here eyes glazed over.

Vena was agog, more amazed by this than anything she'd seen all night. She turned to the right and gave a little scream at the sight of at least two dozen hares, large and small, sitting at attention, all in a bunch.  All staring at the Necromancer.

"Cut their throats and bring the ones big enough to eat, and the deer. Quickly. I'll make us a cave."

Vena's mind was spinning.  He had summoned the animals with a curse?  A Curse powerful enough to bring three deer leaping hundreds of feet to their deaths? She was nauseated as much as impressed. The stag groaned as she stared, one front leg slowly pawing at the loose earth, and she turned away.

A look back at the pursuers was no better a view, and the sight of the hares waiting patiently for their deaths was even worse.  She stumbled towards them anyway, her stomach sinking through the earth in revulsion. The large wild rabbits did not run or bat an eye at her approach.  They just sat there, noses twitching, motionless. Vena reached out and picked one up by the ears, and it didn't struggle or kick at all, just hung in her grasp.

A dragging sound to her left pulled her attention away, and she saw the stag, still alive, crawling towards the Necromancer over by the cliff.  The deer had one antler broken entirely off and both front legs were shattered sticks, but still it was compelled to follow the Necromancer.  The animal was soaking the ground with blood, its one remaining antler digging grooves in the earth as it crawled.  

Choking back a sob at the sight, Vena turned back to the hare, and felt tears running down her cheeks. The creature hung limply in her grip, even when she pushed the short sword against its throat and slashed.  The blade nearly decapitated the animal, and Vena dropped it in disgust, blood running off her arms. The others suddenly hopped away, and she sighed in relief until she noticed that they were merely following the Necromancer, and not running away.

He was still contemplating the rock wall, but he looked back as the hares hopped up behind him and issued some silent command, for they then backed up a few paces and waited patiently.  Vena carried the first kill with her and picked up another, sliding its throat quickly.  The next one turned to her as she picked it up, the big black eyes looking into hers.  Vena cut its throat as well, then sat back on her heels and gave a little sob at this.  Killing men was one thing, or hunting wild animals, but this live butchering felt obscene, and though she was not some pampered princess to sob over a broken-winged bird, she was consumed by self-loathing. 

As she reached for another hare, moaning a little at what she had to do, there was a great grinding crunch from the cliff face, and she looked up to see a stone golem emerge from the rock crevice.  Revealed behind him was an opening into the wall, and the Necromancer turned to Vena.

"We must hide for at least a week until they give up looking here.  Bring enough food for that time.  The attraction curse will not last much longer." With that he took hold of the still breathing stag by the one unbroken antler and dragged it into the crevice in the cliff face.

Sobbing, hating herself, Vena cut the throats of three more hares. They were not following the Necromancer anymore, and instead were watching her, waiting their turn to die. She'd killed and gutted animals in the past, but never wild ones that didn't try to run, or kick, or fight. This slaughter sickened her.

Suddenly the spell wore off, all at once, and the hare she was reaching for leaped away, scratching her arm badly with its powerful digging claws.  All of the others vanished just as quickly, and Vena gratefully stuck the sword back into her belt and picked up the six dead rabbits by the ears.  They were heavy creatures, and her legs were far from steady, so she could do little better than stagger towards the cliff face.

Realizing that she could clearly see what she was doing, Vena looked back and moaned at the sight of Balain, clearly visible in the dawn's increasing light. The cliffs still cast a shadow over her, one she hoped was deep enough to hide them.  There was no time to waste.  It was well past time to be out of sight.

The Necromancer had returned and hauled a second deer into the cave, and Vena pushed past the stone golem, hares in hand.  The summoned living rock shoved her along, picking up and physically hurling the third deer into the crevice, almost knocking Vena down in the process. She hurried inside, the golem at her heels, and the instant she was through the narrow opening the stone man grunted and strained as it wedged itself into the cave entrance, rock cracking and dust raining down.  Vena fell back, watching in amazement as the golem stretched its arms overhead to block off all outside light.  With a shudder and a flash of light, the golem turned back to stone, completely filling the opening it had emerged from just minutes before.

The cave she was now inside was dim, but not black. Overhead there were numerous tiny cracks and holes in the cliff face, and enough light filtered through from above to see the surroundings.  The golem had turned back into rock, and amazingly enough she could hardly tell where it had been.  The shape was not anything like a human, for it had been very roughly formed, and as it turned back into rock it went a segment at a time, filling the long narrow crack entirely.

If the unmade creature looked like this from the outside, no one would suspect a thing!

At least Vena hoped not, since she didn't think the Necromancer could fight off an entire army from this little hidey hole. She was worried about the tracks outside, and the blood from the slaughtered animals, but fortunately this spot appeared to be a common camping area for travelers heading to Balain, and it would take an expert tracker to single out the most recent footprints.  The animal blood and drag marks of deer would be more obvious signs, but might be dismissed as evidence of hunters, or wolves. Hopefully, the first searchers from the city to reach here would not be expert trackers, and would overlook the clues, or even stomp all over them, obscuring the trail before someone who really could track came along.

Vena had no reason for confidence, but nevertheless she felt strangely exhilarated at their apparent escape. And suddenly she was full of questions.

"How does the golem sometimes return to gravel, and other times remain stone?  And how do you sometimes call it forth in a great crash, and other times from individual grains of sand?  How do you control the actions of the golem?  Does it act for itself, or must you direct its every movement?

There was no response, and she turned around to find the Necromancer sitting cross-legged, a doe spread out before him.  His hood was thrown back, exposing his thick silver hair, and he was chopping chunks from the side of the deer and gobbling them down raw, his hands and face smeared with blood.  He was obviously in no mood to answer questions.

Yanking her eyes from the sight of his gory feast, Vena took inventory of their retreat. The cave extended back about fifteen feet, and there was a small trickle of water down one wall.  It pooled in a fist-sized puddle at the floor before running down through a crack against the wall.  The back corner of the cave was deep with sandy earth, and looked like it might be comfortable to sleep in.  The tracks of small animals were visible back there, and Vena supposed there had been an opening large enough for the hares to enter, before the golem had so totally plugged the gap.  There were now no openings other than the cracks that let in light, far overhead.

Nothing else was in the cave, no brush or wood or plant life, and she had no possible way out, lacking the ability to transform raw stone into a living golem.  Vena despaired.

"We can not build a fire in here, for the smoke might be seen.  Be silent and eat." the Necromancer said between bites.

As Vena watched, trying to control her revulsion, he took another huge slice, and wolfed it down, barely pausing to chew.  She looked down, starting at the pile of bloody hares at her feet. They'd been forgotten, and the thought of their little corpses leaning on her was sickening.  Vena leaped to the side, her movement disturbing the furry bodies enough to cause two to settle flat to the sandy ground. The gaping wounds she had inflicted glistening up at her like accusing eyes, killing any appetite Vena might have preserved through the Necromancer's raw display.  She was thirsty though, and stepped over to the wall where a thin trickle ran down.  Vena hesitantly stuck out her tongue, and when the drops she caught tasted okay she immediately moved her face closer, basically kissing the stone as she sucked at the slight trickle. It tasted strongly of minerals, but after the long run she was too thirsty to care, and spent several minutes swallowing the small mouthfuls she could manage this way.  Her hands were pressed against the wall lower down, trying to wash the dirt and blood and dried on grit away, though she really needed a basin to immerse them in.  Or a bath, she thought with a groan.

Turning back to the Necromancer, Vena first saw the deer abandoned, then noticed him lying in the back of the cave, a shadow amongst shadows in his black cloak. Was he asleep already?  Vena walked over and leaned down, and judging by his slow, steady breathing, he was indeed asleep.

Leaving her to eat alone. She shuddered.

His doe lay where he had left her, the meat of her belly and flank almost entirely removed, deep cuts in the ribs and leg bone testifying to the speed with which she'd been butchered.  Disgusted or not, Vena's stomach growled so loudly that she feared a searcher outside might hear it, and she steeled herself to eat.

Sitting down where the Necromancer had been, she drew her short sword and regarded the dead animal.  Just a dead animal, she told herself.  A rare venison feast. Very rare.

The first time, she managed one bite before she spit it out, gagging and drooling.  Fifteen minutes later, while the Necromancer snored softly and shouting voices grew louder outside, she managed two bites, even chewing the first and swallowing, before quietly vomiting it up.  It took her another half an hour, by which time she could barely keep her eyes open, to make a third try. That time she gobbled down slice after slice, eating nearly all the meat from one hind leg and haunch, her gag reflex held back by a hair the entire time.

And then her dreams.

This story will not be continued in this form.  The novel has changed in concept from a D2-based one to original fantasy, and is being written for publication.  Check the daily blogs for sporadic updates and progress reports.

All site content copyright "Flux" (Eric Bruce), 2002-2007.