The master vampire laughed. “Child of woe, I was dead before you were born!”
The burly vampire lashed out at James, and his fingers were curled like talons. James didn’t attempt to parry the blow. Instead, he ducked below the swing, then rose and kicked out with his right leg, planting his boot in the vampire’s chest. He shoved and the burly man was thrown backward into the path of the Vampire Lord. Then James lunged and attempted to hamstring the approaching master vampire, but the creature leapt aside with astonishing speed. James suddenly felt afraid. Nothing living should move that quickly. James’s previous experience with the supernatural had been entirely unpleasant, and his one advantage in those cases had been his combination of instinct and speed. His plan had been to render the master vampire helpless by cutting his legs from under him, or otherwise injuring him, then leaving it to Jazhara to burn him with her mystical fire.
He now saw that his plan was not going to work.
“Get back!” James shouted. “We have to burn them in here!”
Solon crushed the skull of one vampire, and Kendaric managed to inflict enough damage on another that it was keeping its distance from him.
Jazhara used her staff to good advantage, tripping two of the creatures and causing a third to fall over them. She now busied herself with breaking heads with her staff; but, as they had been warned, the damage merely slowed the creatures down rather than causing permanent damage.
They started to retreat, Jazhara and Solon attempting to clear a path for James. James fought down panic. He had to back away from the pair of advancing vampires, and the burly man was shrewd enough not to let James trip him again.
James risked a glance backward and almost had his head taken from his shoulders for his trouble. Only by lashing out with his rapier did he manage to drive the Vampire Lord back.
Suddenly Solon charged forward, swinging his warhammer with both hands. He smashed it into the burly vampire’s chest, sending the creature flying backward thorough the air, into its master.
The Vampire Lord was knocked off his feet, but again he sprang up with supernatural ease and speed, throwing the other vampire aside like a doll. The burly vampire, however, lay upon the stone floor, writhing in agony.
The unexpected counterattack gave James the time he needed to leap away, through the doorway of the small mausoleum.
“Close the doors!” James shouted. “Jazhara, burn them!”
Jazhara lowered her staff and a gout of green flame exploded from its tip. Kendaric struggled with one door, while Solon easily moved the other.
As James watched, his eyes widening in disbelief, the master vampire walked through the flames, unburned.
At last the doors slammed shut. Solon threw his weight against them.
“We need to block them!” shouted James.
Jazhara grabbed Kendaric by the collar of his tunic and pulled him around. “Stones!” she shouted as the wrecker almost fell over, only regaining his balance at the last moment.
They hurried to a small headstone that rose from a grave and together managed to pull it out of the ground. “Thank you, whoever you were,” Jazhara directed toward the now-unmarked grave as she and Kendaric dragged the stone over to the mausoleum doors.
James and Solon had thrown their shoulders against the doors that bulged outward as the master vampire threw his unnatural strength against them. First one, then another stone was piled in place, until the door refused to give.
“I don’t know how much time we’ve bought,” said James, out of breath. “But I saw that thing walk through your fire, Jazhara. It didn’t faze him.”
“Then I don’t know what to do.” she replied.
“Maybe it has to be natural fire,” said Kendaric. “We could build a fire, then light a bundle of rags in oil. Toss it in.”
“I doubt it would make a difference,” said the magician. She pondered. “Perhaps Hilda can tell us what to do.”
Solon said, “You two run back to Hilda, while Kendaric and I endeavor to keep these doors shut.” As if to punctuate this statement, there came a dull thud from within the crypt and the doors shook and rattled against the headstones. “Hurry!” Solon urged. “He may not be able to move those stone doors, but he can certainly reduce them to rubble in time.”
James nodded, turned to look at Jazhara, who nodded. They set off at a jog back north through the town and toward Widow’s Peak.
Nearly breathless, they reached the hut overlooking the cliffs. Hilda heard them approaching and came to stand out on the porch.
“Naught goes well,” she observed.
James nodded, attempting to catch his wind. He took a deep breath then said, “The master vampire won’t die.”
“The Vampire Lord will be difficult to destroy,” said Hilda. “But he is no god.”
“He will not burn,” said Jazhara.