Obsidian Ridge - Jess Lebow [108]
More of the broken stone rained down on Evelyne. She covered her head with her hands and ducked into the corner, trying to protect herself from the falling ceiling and walls.
Larger and larger chunks fell into her cell, each shattering as it hit the ground. Tiny pieces bounced and ricocheted around the small, carved-out hole. Then just as suddenly as it started, the shaking and movement ceased.
Evelyne slid out of her corner, sent sprawling by the sudden stop. She put her arms out to catch herself but ended up face-down in a pile of tiny stone shards.
"Makes me miss the Cellar."
Getting up off the floor, she brushed the obsidian chips from her clothes. Looking up at the ceiling, a smile spread across her face.
"Whoa," she said. "This should be fun."
Right above her head, the movement of the citadel had shaken loose an entire fault line. The result was a huge crack in the stone-big enough for a small person to squeeze through, into the lava tube beyond.
+++++
Chaos ruled the fields outside Klarsamryn. Magistrates fought half-ores, half-elves, humans, and the black beasts. Enemies winked out of existence, the mages at the back of the line transporting them far away. Lord Purdun and his elite guard held the line of battle with their mounts. King Korox and Captain Kaden fought side-by-side.
The rest of Xeries's army scampered up the low hill toward the open field, crushing the dead vegetation into a fine powder as they charged toward the palace. It looked like a wave of tar, flooding over itself as it crashed against the dried, brown dirt of the shore. Surely this was a scene from the Nine Hells.
As the wave broke across the open ground, it spread out, washing around the cavalty, the assassins, and the Magistrates. The blackness, with its jutting fangs, sharp-edged limbs, and spiked tails slowly surrounded everything else. King Korox stood in the middle of it all, a beacon of light against all that was dark.
Just as Xeries's army arrived, the voices of two thousand men filled the battlefield. They burst through the dense, dead foliage as they charged to the side of Korox Morkann.
The king's army had arrived to join the battle.
The fight to win independence from Tethyr had been a long, bloody affair. The wars that followed against the united might of the goblin tribes had been fiercer still. But this battle, now swirling through the fields and courtyards of Klarsamryn, was by far the most wicked contest ever waged in the history of this young country.
Three hostile armies clashed at once. The assassins sent by the Matron focused their rage toward King Korox and his subjects. The Magistrates and their allies fought on two fronts, against the forces of the underworld and the forces of the arch magus. And Xeries's beasts bore down on them all, killing anything they could claw or bite.
"Assassins of Waukeen!" shouted King Korox over the clattering din of battle. "You were sent here to dethrone me. To take control of Erlkazar, so that you could rule it as you saw fit. But you are fighting the wrong foe."
He flipped his sword around, and grabbing the hilt in both hands, pounded the tip into the oncoming mouth of an obsidian attacker. The blade ripped though flesh, teeth, bone, and sinew, dropping the beast's innaids on the ground to mix with the blood and mangled flesh already collected there.
"We may have our differences," continued the king, "but together we are part of this free nation. And as your king I ask for your help on this battlefield." He lifted his enchanted, blood-coveted sword high in the air. "Together we can win this fight, for Erlkazar!"
"For Erlkazar!" came the cry from the Magistrates, elite guard, and regular army.
For a brief moment, the shout overtopped the ringing of metal and the sickening sound of tearing flesh. Then silence descended over the fields beside Klarsamryn, as the king and his warriors held their attacks, waiting for the response.
King Korox stood his ground, his hand lifted high in the