Kate looked at Simon in surprise, and asked, “Who is that? An unknown prisoner?”
“I don’t think so. The door is unlocked. He seems content to be in there. He’s guarding the cell.”
“From whom?”
“From anyone most likely.” Simon studied the motionless skeleton. “We need to get inside.”
Nick peered into the room. “Simon, mind, that isn’t some random revenant. It’s a lich. It has power. We have trouble enough without opening doors to let more of it out.”
“Yes we do.” Simon found the patient skeleton fascinating.
“Are you drunk from aether?” Nick queried.
Simon considered the possibility. He did feel a slight numbing of his fears and doubts. The magic intoxication could affect his judgment at times, but not now. All the prisoners of the Bastille were accounted for. All the prisoners they knew about, in any case. This cell made one too many. They could not leave without knowing who might have previously occupied this room.
Simon backed away from the door. “Kate, hit our friend there with treacle to hold him in place. Penny, can you try to knock him to pieces with your gun?”
Kate plunged a hand into the gathered velveteen at her hips, finding hidden pockets, and came out with a vial. She aimed the crossbow through the bars and fired. The creature seemed to move in slow motion as it brought the scythe around. Its place in the corner should have cramped its ability to swing the long-handled tool, but the scythe passed through the walls and floor as if they weren’t there. The skeleton could have been swinging out in the middle of an open field. The lich swept the scythe up, pausing a split second to catch the vial on the flat of the blade, and followed through to toss the glass hard. The treacle smashed worthless on the far wall.
Before anyone could speak, the lich charged the door. Every motion of the skeleton was clear, creating an illusion of slowness, but Simon knew better. It was on them in an instant. Simon grabbed Kate and Penny and pulled them back. A blade penetrated the metal door like a large hooked claw and flowed smoothly down to the floor where it drew back inside the cell. A skeletal foot appeared and the lich stepped through the iron door as if it weren’t there.
“Back!” Simon shouted and brought his stick sword to glittering life. Despite the wicked blue sheen, it seemed inadequate compared to the great blade of the lich.
Penny brought up her pistol and fired. The hallway shuddered. Dust fell all around them. The lich was shoved back. Its head tilted and it swung the scythe to its side. The blade cut through the wall. The skeleton followed smoothly behind the stroke and disappeared from sight.
Nick was standing at the open door to Gaios’s cell and let loose a ball of flame into the room. “It’s in here!”
Simon reached the doorway in time to see the lich standing in a field of flame. It plunged the sickle into the floor and dropped from view. He turned back to the hall. “It’s below us now.”
“How could it be below—” Penny began when the scythe blade appeared at her feet like a shark fin slicing through the ocean. A skeletal hand reached up and seized her ankle. Penny’s right foot was pulled into the floor and she started screaming in pain.
Kate and Simon grabbed her and pulled, but she was held fast as if her leg had been set into the masonry. Penny thrashed in agony, clutching at her trapped calf.
Simon caught a glimpse of steel in the wall behind Malcolm. He was about to call out, but the Scotsman was already turning and dropping into a crouch as bony fingers stretched out for him. The powerful Lancaster pistol roared, slamming four balls into the wall where the hand now disappeared. Malcolm drew his second pistol and bounded for the nearest doorway. Just as he reached it, he fell back and the scythe sliced past his head. The lich appeared in the doorway, driving the sickle down just between Malcolm’s legs.
Nick let loose another wash of fire with one hand, nearly catching Malcolm in the blast. The lich now regarded Nick and spun gracefully, letting the shaft of its weapon slide through its hand, giving it nearly eight feet of range. The blade, again defying all logic, passed through the solid walls of the hallway and hissed in an arc level with Nick’s throat.
Malcolm kicked up into the shaft of the scythe, knocking it just off line so that Nick’s slow reaction still let the older man escape by inches. Malcolm screamed as if his leg had been shattered. The lich continued its motion, drawing the long wooden shaft closer, spinning it over its head to plunge the blade toward the writhing man on the floor.