Troll Hunter, part 9
While the creature was distracted, Frey jumped up to it and landed a glancing blow on its shoulder, where the baby's head grew, which was cleanly severed. The head rolled to a stop near Elysia's feet, where he stood shrieking. Catgirl managed to set the lantern on the floor, draw her sword and bring it down on her head. It was divided into two halves that began to join again. He continued to lay sword blows at her until the weapon blunted, blunted, then snapped from her as it lurched against the ground; Still, he couldn't kill the thing.
"Stand back," she heard Zauber tell her, and jumped to the side.
Suddenly the air burned, filled with the smell of sulfur and burning metal, and the tiny head fell silent and did not recover.
As if sensing a new threat, the troll jumped out, leaving Frey behind but not before taking a deep cut from Frey's sword, and caught the mage with the giant pincer. Elysia saw the look of terror on Zauber's face as he was lifted into the air. The mage struggled to cast a spell, and suddenly a ball of fire appeared, dispelling the shadows for a moment. The monster screamed and reflexively closed its pincer, cutting the mage in two.
Zauber fell to the ground with his robes on fire, and black despair washed over Elysia. The mage could have wounded the creature, burned it with arcane fire. At that time he was dead; Frey could only open futile slashes at him because his healing powers, bolstered by the manastone, made him practically invulnerable. They were doomed.
The cat girl slumped her shoulders. There was nothing he could do. The others had died in vain, and the mission had failed. The ghosts of the dwarven rulers would continue to haunt like banshees. It had all been useless.
He looked at the armored figure of Frey. Very soon, Frey would get tired and he would be unable to dodge the creature's blows. He knew it, but he didn't give up the fight, and a renewed determination washed over Elysia. Nor would she give up; at that moment, she averted her gaze towards the mage's corpse.
The fire had grown more intense, much more so than if it were only burning a man's clothes. And then she understood why: Zauber had flasks of lantern oil in his coat. Hurriedly, Elysia slid her backpack off her back and reached for a vial of oil.
"Keep him busy!" she yelled at Frey as he uncovered the ceramic jar.
Frey, understanding Elysia's plan, nodded and said. "I'll take care of tanking!"
Elysia waved the vial at the monster to spray it with lustrous oil, but the monster ignored her as he tried to immobilize Frey. The dark hero had redoubled his efforts and was slashing like a madman. Meanwhile, Elysia poured a second vial on top of her, and then a third, always keeping where the monster couldn't see her.
"I know what you're going to do, cat girl, but do it quickly!" Frey complained.
Elysia ran away and picked up the lantern from her. "May the gods guide my hand." she begged her. She hurled the lantern at the creature, whose back she collided with. After shattering, she sprayed burning oil, which she ignited the fuel she had sprayed it with earlier.
The troll uttered a shrill scream and stumbled back. From that moment on, when Frey's sword wounded him, the cuts would not heal. Frey backed the troll into the pile of gold, where it stumbled and fell, and then Frey raised his sword above his head.
"Go dead!" the dark Hero bellowed.
The greatsword Lævateinn swooped down and lopped off the foul head of the creature, which never rose again.
♦ ♦ ♦
Very carefully, Frey picked up the manastone amulet with the broken blade of Elysia's sword, and carried it out of the way at arm's length, to throw it into the abyss.
The cat girl sat, void of all emotion, on top of a sarcophagus. "Once again, things end like this." She thought she, sitting amid the ruins and corpses after a terrible fight.
She heard the footsteps of Frey approaching at a run, and the dark hero entered panting.
"The goblins are coming, catgirl," she announced.
"Many?" Elysia asked.
Frey shook his head tiredly.
"Too many. At least I'm rid of that corrupted thing now. Although I can die happy, here, among the graves of brave warriors. I prefer to leave, dying for shitty Goblins would be dishonoring my ancestors."
Catgirl stood up and went to pick up the dragon-hilted sword.
"I would have liked to give this back to Aldred's people," she said. "It would have given meaning to so many deaths."
Frey shrugged and glanced at the door. The arcade was filled to the brim with green-skinned marauders advancing behind the Laughing Moon banner. Catgirl easily unsheathed her dragon slayer, which emitted an exciting musical note. The runes etched along the blade gleamed with brilliant light, and for a moment the goblins hesitated.
Frey shifted his gaze to his partner and smiled.
"This may be a heroic kill, cat girl. My only regret is that he will not be able to fulfill my mission, perhaps my lord Zark will never hear of my achievements."
Elysia turned her eyes to the horde bearing down on her, and she positioned herself so that her back was against a sarcophagus.
"You don't know how sorry I am," she replied with a frown.
She brandished the weapon a few times in rehearsal. She handled it well, it was light and balanced, as if it had been made especially for her hand. She was surprised to discover that she was no longer afraid, that she was beyond all fear.
The standard bearer paused and turned to harangue his soldiers, none of whom seemed too eager to face Frey's greatsword or Elysia's runed magic sword.
"Come at once!" Frey bellowed. "My sword is thirsty."
The goblins roared, and the leader turned and motioned for them to advance. They rushed at them, as irresistible as the tides. That's it, the catgirl thought as she braced herself for the attack and she prepared to swing the sword to take as many enemies as she could back with her to the lands of the dead.
"Goodbye, Frei. I…" she said, but she broke off.
The goblins had stopped and were staring at them in panic. "What's wrong?" Elysia wondered. A cold white light spilled over her shoulders; she turned to look and hesitated. The chamber was filled with ranks of regal dwarf spirits, advancing looking fierce and terrible.
The goblin standard bearer tried to drive the soldiers back from him, but the ghostly dwarf lords reached out and touched his heart. His color drained from his face, and he fell as he clutched at his chest and the spirits rushed toward the goblins. The spectral axes were swung, and the white-skinned warriors fell without a single mark on their bodies. A high-pitched, monstrous sound filled the air, like a flute-like imitation of dwarven war cries. The remaining goblins turned and fled, the ghostly warriors trailing after them.
♦ ♦ ♦
Elysia and Frey stood in the empty chamber, surrounded by huge sarcophagi. In the space before them, slowly, silhouettes began to take shape. Halos of white light floated back through the entrance and took on the appearance of dwarfs. The spirits looked different.
There was the ghost that had spoken with Frey earlier. Somehow she had changed, as if a terrible weight had been lifted from her ethereal heart. He looked at the dark hero.
"The ancient enemies have disappeared. We couldn't leave them to plunder our tombs now that you've cleansed them. We are in your debt."
"You have snatched a glorious death from me," Frey replied, almost sullenly.
"It was not your destiny to fall here on this day."
Frey then looked at the ancient queen with an air of questioning.
"There is nothing more I can tell you. Frey Iron Hand, son of Njördr, brother of Freyja, last of the Vanir. Champion of the lords of the five peaks. On behalf of my people, thank you. Our best wishes accompany you. Goodbye great hero."
The ghosts seemed to coalesce into a single cold flame, which shone like a star in the darkness. The light changed from white to warm gold, then brighter than the sun. Elysia averted her eyes from her, though she continued to be dazzled, and when she regained her ability to see, she looked at the graves. The place was empty except for his presence and that of Frey, who was frowning thoughtfully. For an instant, a strange expression flickered in her eyes; then the gyro turned to look at the treasure.
Elysia could almost read his mind. She was thinking of taking those riches, of desecrating the tombs himself. Catgirl held her breath, and after a long minute, Frey shrugged and turned around.
"What about the others? Shouldn't we provide them with a resting place?" Elysia asked.
"Leave them," Frey replied over his shoulder as he strode away. "They lie among the mighty. Their bodies are safe."
They passed through the archway, and the dark hero paused to touch the runes, according to ancient custom. The tomb was sealed, and then they walked through the eternal darkness toward the light of day.