Realms of Magic - Brian Thomsen King [85]
"He was with the other wizards," the spectre said in an old man's voice. "Pity he died so young. Though he wore the symbol of the Lady of the Mists and I let him pass, the guardian looked into his heart. His heart betrayed him as an unbeliever. The guardian struck him down."
"Guardian?"
"The Lady of the Mists' eternal servant," the spectre replied. "The guardian waits in the chamber beyond."
The lich peered into the black distance and started forward. The spirit of Leira's priests dutifully followed on his heels.
"Kill the thing!" Szass Tarn heard a deep male voice cry. The lich quickened his pace and entered a massive cavern lighted by luminous moss. He stopped and stared at the cavern's three occupants-Frodyne, a Red Wizard he didn't recognize, and a monstrous construct.
"What treachery is this?" the lich's voice boomed.
"Master!" Frodyne squealed. She was dressed in a soiled and torn red robe, and the triangle she had painted on her scalp was smeared with sweat. Her normally soft features were set in grim determination as she called for her companion to join the fight. The man stayed behind her, ignoring her coarse words, and stared at the great thing before them. Frodyne spread her fingers wide and unleashed a magical bolt of fire at the monstrosity.
Frodyne's foe stood at least thirty feet tall, its head nearly reaching the chamber's roof. The guardian was not undead, but it was certainly not living. The lich eyed the thing from top to bottom. It had the torso of a man and the head of a goat. Its chest bore the symbol of a triangle filled with swirling mists. The thing possessed four eyes that were evenly spaced above the thick bridge of its metallic nose, and its mouth gaped open, exposing pointed teeth made of steel. Four arms as thick as tree trunks waved menacingly at the sides of its body and ended in six-fingered iron claws. Every inch of the creature was gray. The thing's massive legs ended in cloven hooves that created sparks when they stomped on the ground and rocked the cavern. The shockwaves made Frodyne and her companion scramble to stay on their feet.
"It seems you've made it angry, dear Frodyne," Szass Tarn said. "Just as you've angered me. You destroyed my army."
"I wanted the crown!" she said as she unleashed another bolt of lightning. "I learned about this temple and the relic, but you said the bauble would be yours. It should be mine!"
The lich watched her nimbly avoid a fist that slammed into the cavern floor where she had been standing.
"I'm sorry!" she yelled. "Help us, please. The crown will be yours. I swear!"
The lich folded his arms and surveyed the battle, not bothering to reply to her plea.
She scowled and brought up her fingers, touching the thumbs together and holding her open palms toward the guardian. She mumbled words Szass Tarn recognized as one of the first spells he'd taught her, and icy shards sprang from her hands. The shards flew true and imbedded themselves deep into the breast of the thing. But the attack proved ineffectual, the guardian oblivious. It pulled an arm back to swat her. Frodyne leapt to the side, and the guardian's hand found her companion instead. The sharp metal nails pulled the man's chest open. The wizard was dead before he hit the ground.
"Please, Master," Frodyne begged. "Help me. I'll do anything you ask."
"You destroyed my army," Szass Tarn spat. "Your soul can rot here for all I care."