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wasn’t enough space for both men to maneuver without cutting each other. Frustration made him tremble. He watched as a skeleton burst apart from the force of Nothol’s boot in the ribs. The skull rolled to rest at Dorl’s feet.
    “We have to help him,” he told Argis.
    The former captain stood with his mouth agape. Shock immobilized him. Never in his wildest thoughts could he imagine an army of the dead. His knees were weak. His mind refused to obey his body. Twice he almost dropped his sword. Delranan had had no foe like this, ever. He struggled to comprehend what assailed them, but his mind failed to rationalize any of it.
    Dorl snarled and slapped the man on his back. “Damn it, Argis, snap out of it! We’re all going to die down here if we don’t act.”
    Recognition flashed in the back of his pale eyes. “What can we do against this?”
    At least he still has his tongue. Dorl frowned. “Send them back to the underworld and hope for the best.”
    Dorl Theed only managed to take a small step forward before being violently jerked backwards. The force made him drop his sword. Bony fingers gripped him tightly, trying to rip him apart. He let out a strangled cry as they dragged him to the ground. Dorl struggled with all his might. He punched and kicked. A bony arm ripped away and became his only weapon. Dorl used the arm to lash out at his attackers. Blood seeped from a dozen scratches, but the skeletons only clung tighter.
    The sudden attack finally forced Argis into action. His resolve strengthened, the old man clenched his sword and attacked. Dust and bones flew wildly about the small chamber. The Delranan noble fought like never before. Vague ideations of what would happen to him should he fail pushed him harder. His muscles soon screamed and began to ache. The old man didn’t have much left. Skeletal warriors broke to pieces wherever his sword touched them.
    Dorl used the distraction and managed to break free. The sell sword rolled to find his sword through the mayhem and unleashed his pent-up fury. Every beating and taunt from Harnin’s guards came back now. Hatred, agony, embarrassment, and fear burst from the inner well of his soul. Dorl attacked and attacked, with sword, fist, and boot. He didn’t stop until Argis placed a weary hand upon his shoulder.
    Dorl looked around. His breath was ragged, clogged with dust and bone matter. The battle was over. All of the skeletons were destroyed, sent back to the decay of their eternal death. Argis dropped to a knee. He was much the worse of the two. Nothol leaned against the far wall, head hung low between his shoulders as he struggled to catch his breath. His tunic was shredded in places and smeared with his own blood. Maleela sat huddled in the corner. Even with all she had been through she couldn’t bring herself to accept a battle against the dead.
    “What just happened?” Argis asked through strained breaths. His body ached from unexpected exertion.
    Nothol sheathed his sword. “This place is cursed.”
    “I have seen much in my life, but never anything so foul. Those creatures should not exist,” Argis added softly.
    “Should we go and get the wizard?” Dorl asked hesitantly. The rage was gone, leaving him numb. He had had enough of magic and having Anienam around made him queasy.
    The ground trembled and shook violently. Huge chunks of ceiling crashed down. The walls shattered and started to collapse.
    “Cave in!” Nothol shouted.
    Argis forced himself back to his feet. “We must flee!”
    Dorl passed a desperate look to the empty doorway. There was no sign of Skuld or the damned wizard. Duty and honor urged him to go and look for them. Reality screamed otherwise. The very walls were coming down around them. Waiting was not an option.
    “Run!” he tried to shout above the roar.
    He pushed Argis ahead and ran for his life. Dorl Theed gave a last thought to the others and kept running before they all died. Large chunks of the ceiling continued to