The Cleric Quintet: The Chaos Curse

 

"Mas illu !" the young priest cried, and the vampire howled as sparks fell over it.

"That one's yer own!" Ivan cried to his brother, and he rubbed the temporary blindness out of his eyes and went back to his zombie chopping. He paused and dipped his head, grabbing at the dead weight entangled there, and a host of monsters closed in, arms clubbing.

Cadderly started for Pikel, but saw that Ivan, with his encumbering load, was in more trouble. He rushed to join Ivan, smacked away those zombies he could reach, then took hold of the corpse and finally pulled it free of the dwarfs antlers.

Cadderly overbalanced as it fell loose, then found he was sailing backward even faster as a zombie punched him in the chest. He hit the stone floor hard, fejt the breath blasted from his lungs, and his precious wand flew free of his grasp. By the time he regained his sensibilities, a zombie had its strong hands clasped firmly about his throat.

The vampire was agile, but none could roll better than a round-shouldered dwarf. Pikel enjoyed the ride, throwing his weight into every turn with enthusiastic abandon. Finally the living ball slammed a wine rack, and the old structure buckled, showering Pikel and the vampire with splintered wood and shards of breaking bottles.

Pikel took the worst of that, the breaking rack doing no more damage to the vampire that Ivan's axe had done. Pikel, cut in a dozen places, one eye closed by a sliver, found himself in tight quarters suddenly, the vampire against him, holding him tight in its impossibly strong arms, its sharp fangs digging at his throat.

"Oooo!" the dwarf growled, and he tried to pull free, tried to wriggle one arm out, that he might hit his adversary.

It was no use; the vampire was too strong.

Cadderly thought to invoke Deneir's name, thought to present his holy symbol, thought to grab his walking stick and slam the zombie on the side of the head. He thought all of it and more at once, his mind whirling as the monster, its bloated face devoid of emotion,.held the needed breath from his lungs.

Suddenly that bloated face rushed at Cadderly, slammed him hard, drawing blood from his lips. At first he thought the zombie had launched a new attack, then, as the thing steadily lifted from him, its grasp on his neck relaxed, the young priest understood.

"Durned things keep getting stuck," Ivan grumbled, hoisting his axe higher and bringing the impaled zombie with it He brought the blade close and tried to pry the zombie loose.

"Behind you!" Cadderly called.

Too late. Another of the monsters pounded Ivan hard on the shoulder.

Ivan looked at Cadderly and shook his head. "Will ye wait a minute?" he screamed into the zombie's face, and the monster promptly punched him again, raising a welt on his cheek.

Ivan's heavy boot stomped on the zombie's foot The dwarf launched himself forward with all his weight, the sudden movement dislodging the last zombie from his axe. The two foes staggered backward, but the zombie somehow held its footing.

Ivan's hand whipped around, bringing the handle of the axe behind the zombie's shoulder, then back in front of its face. The dwarfs other hand went in a similar movement, grabbing the other end of the handle, just below the axe's huge head. With his hands behind the zombie's back and the handle crossing in front of it, tight across its shoulders and throat, Ivan had the thing off balance. It continued to club at the dwarfs back, but it was in too tight to be effective.

"I telled ye to wait," Ivan explained casually, and the muscles on his powerful arms corded and bulged as he pressed backward and down, folding the monster in half the wrong way.

Cadderly didn't see the powerful move. He was up and moving again. He searched for his wand, but saw no sign of it in the tangle and the darkness. He starred for

Pikel, but ran into a wall of zombies. Taking a circular route that moved him deeper into the cellar, Cadderly's attention was grabbed by something off to the side: three coffins, two open and one closed.

The young priest saw something else there, a blackness, a manifestation of evil. Huddled, shadowy images danced atop that closed coffin. Cadderly recognized the aura sight for what it was. As he had come to decipher the song of Deneir, the general weal of people he encountered was often revealed to him by shadowy images emanating from them. Normally Cadderly had to concentrate to see such things, had to call upon his god, but here the source of evil was too great for the shadows to be concealed.

Cadderly knew Pikel needed him, but he knew, too, that he had found Kierkan Rufo.

Pikel didn't like the feeling at all. The dwarf was a creature of natural order, who prized nature above all, and this foul, perverted thing was violating him, sinking its filthy fangs into the personal temple that was nature's gift to the dwarf.

He screamed and thrashed, to no avail. He felt his blood being drawn out, but could do nothing to stop it.

Pikel tried another tactic. Instead of pressing out with his arms, he tightened them to his sides, hoping the vampire would loosen its grip.

The monster's eyes widened in shock, and it began to tremble violently. Pikel understood when he felt the water, the "doo-dad" water being forced from his water-skin, soaking the front of his baldric and breeches.

The vampire broke the hold and leaped back, crashing into the part of the wine rack that had not collapsed, sending bottles flying. Smoke wafted from its chest, and Pikel saw that his squirting waterskin had drilled a neat hole there, right into the vampire's heart.

On came the raging dwarf, pounding with his club, crushing the perversion into the floor. He turned, sensing that zombies were converging from behind, but the undead wall parted as Ivan burrowed through to his brother's side once more.

Cadderly's remaining light source dimmed as he approached the coffins, his eyes set firmly on the dancing shadows, on the box that held Kierkan Rufo. He felt a warmth in his pocket then, which confused him for just a moment

Cadderly stopped suddenly and lashed out to the side with his walking stick, smashing several bottles. A shriek and a flap of wings told him he had guessed right.

"I see you, Druzil," the young priest muttered. "Never will I lose sight of you!"

. The imp became visible, crouched on the lip of one of the opened boxes.

"You desecrated the library!" Cadderly accused.

Druzil hissed at him. "There is no place here for you, foolish priest. Your god has left!"

In answer, Cadderly thrust forth his holy symbol and, for a moment, the light flared, stinging Druzil's sensitive eyes. These two had battled before, on several occasions, and each time Cadderly had proven stronger.

So it would be again, the young priest determined, but this time, Druzil, that most malicious imp, would not escape his wrath. Cadderly pulled forth the amulet, the link between him and the imp, and sent a telepathic wave at Druzil, calling loudly the name of Deneir. The image manifested itself in both combatants' thoughts as a sparking ball of light, floating toward Druzil from Cadderly.

Druzil retorted with the discordant names of every denizen of the lower planes he could think of, forming a ball of blackness that floated out to engulf the light of Cadderly's god.

The two wills battled halfway between the combatants. First Druzil's blackness dominated, but sparks of light gradually began to flash through.

Suddenly the black cloud shattered and the sparking ball rolled over the imp.

Druzil shrieked in agony; his mind was nearly torn asunder, and he fled, half-crazed, looking for a corner, a place of shadows, a place far from the terrible, bared power of Cadderly.

Cadderly thought to pursue, to be rid of troublesome Druzil once and for all, but then the lid of the coffin flew away and a deeper darkness wafted out. Kierkan Rufo sat up and stared at Cadderly.

This was the way it had to be, they both knew.

Behind Cadderly, Ivan and Pikel continued to rain carnage on the unthinking minions, but neither the young priest nor Rufo noticed. Cadderly's focus was straight ahead, straight on the monster who had destroyed the library, who had taken Danica from him.

"You killed her," Cadderly said evenly, fighting hard to keep the tremor out of his voice.

"She killed herself," Rufo countered, needing no explanation as to whom Cadderly was speaking of.

"You killed her!"

"No!" Rufo countered. "You killed her! You, Cadderly, fool priest, and your ideas of love!"

Cadderly fell back on his heels, trying to sort through Rufo's cryptic words. Danica had died of her own accord? She had given up her life to escape Rufo, because she could not love Rufo, and could not accept his offers?

A tear gathered in Cadderly's gray eye. Bittersweet, it was, a mixture of pain at the loss and pride in Danica's strength.

Rufo came easily out of the coffin. He seemed to glide toward Cadderly, making not a sound.

But the room was far from quiet. Even Ivan was disgusted at the crunching sounds the zombies made when he hacked them, or when Pikel swatted them across the room. Fewer and fewer targets presented themselves.

Cadderly didn't hear it; Rufo didn't hear it. Cadderly presented his holy symbol, and the vampire promptly clamped his hand atop it. Their struggle found its apex in that small emblem, Rufo's darkness against Cadderly's light, the focus of the young priest's faith, the focus of the perversion's outrage. Acrid smoke sifted out between Rufo's bony fingers, but whether it was the vampire's flesh or Cadderly's symbol that was melting, neither could tell.

They held fast for seconds that became minutes, both trembling, neither having the strength to lift his other arm. It would end here, Cadderly believed, with these two conduits, himself for Deneir and Rufo for the chaos curse.

As the moments continued to slip by, as Cadderly forced himself to higher levels of power, remembering Danica and all that had been stolen from him, and as Rufo matched him every time, Cadderly began to understand the truth.

This was Rufo's place. For all his rage and a^l his power, the young priest could not hold out against the vampire, not here.

Cadderly grimaced, refusing to accept what he knew was reality. He pressed on, and Rufo matched him. His head ached to the point where he thought it would explode, but he would not let go of the song of Deneir.

Despair, black discord, found its way into the notes of that melody. Chaos. Cadderly saw red fumes in the crystalline, flowing river. The notes began to break apart.

Ivan hit Rufo hard from the side, with both his axe and his thrashing helmet. Neither weapon truly injured the vampire, but the distraction cost Rufo his moment of conquest, gave Cadderly the opportunity to break the clinch he could not win.

With a feral snarl, Rufo slapped the dwarf away, sent Ivan spinning head over heels into the nearest rack, to crash amid broken glass and splintered wood.

Cadderly's walking stick flashed across, tearing the vampire's upper arm.

Pikel came in next, pressing hard on his waterskin, forcing the last drops to spray forth.

Rufo cared nothing for the puny attack, and Pikel learned the hard way, to his dismay, that his enchantment had expired on the club. He hit the vampire full force, but Rufo didn't flinch.

"Ooooooo," Pikel wailed, following his brother's aerial course into the jumble.

Ivan's eyes were wide as he held one unbroken bottle, staring at it nervously.

Cadderly hit the vampire again, solidly in the chest, and Rufo grimaced in pain.

"I have you," the vampire promised, not backing down, and Cadderly could not disagree. The young priest went into a fury then, slapping wildly with his enchanted weapon.

Rufo matched him, and the vampire's strong fists soon gained him the advantage. In this desecrated place, in this chamber of darkness, Rufo was simply too strong.

Cadderly somehow managed to break the battle and retreat a step, but confident Rufo waded in right behind.

"Cadderly!" Ivan yelled, and both Cadderly and Rufo glanced to the side to see a curious missile heading for the vampire.

Rufo instinctively threw his arm up to block, but seemed unconcerned. Cadderly, recognizing the missile for what it was, timed his strike perfectly, hitting the flask at the same instant it bounced against Rufo's arm.

"The Oil of Impact exploded with tremendous force, hurling Rufo against the far wall, throwing Cadderly backward to the floor.

The young priest sat up at once and considered the splintered handle of his ruined walking stick. Then he considered Kierkan Rufo.

The vampire leaned heavily against the back wall, his arm hanging loose by a single strip of skin, his eyes wide with shock and pain.

Cadderly came up with a growl, turned the remaining piece of his weapon in his hand to hold it like a stake.

"I will find you!" Rufo promised. "I will heal and I will find you!" A ghostly green light limned the vampire's form.

Cadderly cried out and charged, but slammed hard into the wall as Rufo dissolved into a cloud of vapors.

"No, ye don't!" Ivan bellowed, rising from the pile and pulling the boxlike item from his back.

"Oo oi!" Pikel agreed, rushing beside his brother, taking one of the offered handles. They skidded into the green vapor and pulled fiercely on the handles of the bellows they had stripped from their forge. ^

In his gaseous state, Rufo could not resist that suction, and the mist disappeared into the bellows.

"Ooooooo!" Pikel squealed and popped his fat thumb over the opening.

"Get him outside!" frantic Ivan roared, and the dwarves ran off for the stairs, yelling "Ooooooo!" in unison.

Cadderly charged hard to keep up, holding his light ahead to show them the way. He spotted his lost wand, but had not the time to go for it.

Tlie Highest Test

He's coming back!" Ivan yelled, and the bellows bulged weirdly as Rufo's corporeal form began to take shape once more, as the vapors began to solidify. "Ooooooo!" Pikel wailed, careening down the halls, the foyer in sight.

Cadderly skidded in first, throwing all his weight against the barricade that had been put in place to block the opening. He didn't move the material much, but he lessened its integrity, and when Ivan and Pikel hit, everything, Cadderly included, flew away. The young priest shook his head, both at the amazing power of rambling dwarves and to take the dizziness away, then he took up his wand, and followed closely. Out into the sunlight scrambled the dwarves. Pikel's finger was no longer over the pointy opening of the bellows, but it didn't matter, for Rufo was no longer gaseous, leather bulged and tore as a clawing hand ripped through the side of the bellows.

The dwarves ran on, dragging their load, getting Rufo as far from the gloomy library, his source of power, as possible. They cut under the shadows of the trees, out into an open, sunny field,

Rufo tore free and dug a firm hold on the turf. Both dwarves pitched headlong to the ground and came up sitting, each holding a broken handle.

With some effort, the vampire stood straight, cursing the sun, shielding his eyes from the blazing light. Cadderly stood before Kierkan Rufo, holy symbol presented with all his heart The young priest, out from under the desecrated structure, felt his god strongly again. Rufo, too, felt Deneir keenly, Cadderly's words echoing painfully in his mind.

Rufo started for the library, but Cadderly danced around to intercept, his blazing holy symbol blocking the way.

"You cannot escape," the young priest said firmly. "You have made your choice, and you have chosen wrong!"

"What do you know?" the vampire scoffed. Rufo stood tall, defying the sun, defying Cadderly and his god. He felt the tumultuous swirl of the chaos curse within him, of Tuanta Quiro Miancay, that Most Fatal Horror. It was a concoction of the Abyss, of the very lowest planes.

Even in the sunlight, even battered as he had been in the fight, his arm hanging grotesquely at his side, Rufo stood strong. Cadderly could see that, could feel it.

"I deny you," the personification of Tuanta Quiro Miancay said evenly. The words filtered through Cadderly's thoughts, throwing up barriers, damming the river of his god's song. Rufo had spoken to Deneir, Cad-derly realized, not to him. Rufo had made the claim that his choice had not been wrong, that his power was real and tangible - and he had made that claim against Deneir, against a god!

"They hold us back, Cadderly," the vampire went on, his calm tones showing strength and defiance. "They keep their secrets to themselves, cover them with pretty flowers and sunshine, petty dressings to keep us satisfied and behind which they might hide the truth."

Looking at the vampire now, standing tall and straighter than Kierkan Rufo had ever stood in life, Cadderly almost believed that Rufo had found truth. It seemed, too, as if a protective shell had formed about Rufo, a dark lining to battle the burning sunlight. How strong this one had become! The vampire continued, and Cadderly closed his eyes, the arm holding his holy symbol inevitably dropping low. The young priest didn't distinguish any of the words, just felt the hum, the alluring vibrations, deep in his soul.

"Well?" came a blunt and gruff question. Cadderly opened his eyes to see Ivan and Pikel, sitting side by side in the grass, still holding the broken handles and considering the face-off.

Well, indeed, the young priest thought. He looked squarely into his adversary's dark eyes.

"I deny Deneir," Rufo said calmly.

"You choose wrongly," Cadderly replied.