The clang of metal on metal combined with a shower of blue sparks. Simon grunted with effort as his blade caught the scythe and turned it from Malcolm’s unprotected chest. He recovered from his lunge, locking the blades tight, and leapt over Malcolm. He could see a bluish iciness seeping up the Scotsman’s leg. Simon spun about to riposte, but the lich blocked it with the butt of the handle.
“Nick! Attend Malcolm!” Simon backed up the hall. The lich’s scythe passed effortlessly through the walls of the corridor as the creature followed Simon with its empty eyes focused on the glowing sword.
Simon kept tapping the scythe to keep the feel of his opponent. The magic of his blade prevented it from being parted by the lich’s preternatural weapon. Simon shifted his point only slightly to keep it ready to strike if he got the chance. He shuffled back, step by step, letting his fencing training take over. Unlike his opponent, Simon was constrained by the confines of the hallway.
The skeleton’s skill with the scythe was impressive, even beautiful. It came on like a machine, spinning in a danse macabre. The lich jabbed, hoping to slip the curved blade past to hook Simon. He ducked and blocked, and quickly riposted with a short stroke that separated a rib from the breastbone. Simon came up on his toes, drew his sword back along his chest, and struck again for the skull. The lich ducked away, off balance. It swung wide, slicing through a wall and instantly vaulting out of the corridor.
Simon turned and ran, rounding the corner. Just ahead, he saw the dangling rope up to the elephant above. He heard a faint humming overhead and immediately dropped to the floor. The scythe blade plunged from the stone ceiling and whooshed past. The lich dropped before him.
Simon spun quickly and parried a blow that tore his coat. The lich struck again, pressing its advantage. Simon held it off for now, but the skeleton kept up the attack. It would never tire. Simon would eventually lose his aether and his stamina would drop just like his sword arm.
Kate rounded the corner behind the lich. The skeleton started to turn to her, but Simon made quick strikes to its chest. Before he could carry through to the neck, the lich whirled back to face him, blocking the sword. Simon was pushed off balance. He tried to recover, but his opponent pressed forward.
Kate stopped just behind the lich, and stuck her fist inside its rib cage. She grimaced and squeezed. There was a crunch of broken glass. Kate pulled her hand out rapidly as an orange mist swirled inside the skeleton. The fog began to grow and harden. The lich paused when the expanding amber pressed against the inside of its ribs and spine. The bones started to bend and ribs snapped. The breastbone shattered. The spine stretched, fighting to hold itself together for a second before flying to pieces like a broken charm bracelet. The lich’s skull clattered off the amber and dropped to the floor.
“That was lovely.” Simon tapped the amber with his sword. “Very elegant.”
“Thank you. I’m glad it worked because it was the last of my amber.” She knelt and hesitantly touched the handle of the scythe. Nothing happened, so she grasped it. When she picked it up, the blade clanged off the wall. “I’ll add this to our collection. Considering how many artifacts we’ve lost recently.”
Simon whispered a bit of strength into his body and stomped his foot on the lich’s skull, crushing it to bits. He went along with Kate back to the cells. Nick was coming to meet them. They turned the corner to see Malcolm kneeling beside Penny, whose foot was still embedded in the floor. She was pale and sweating. Malcolm whispered calmly to her.
Simon inspected the spot where her ankle disappeared into the floor. It appeared to be merely trapped rather than fused. Her leg was red and bloody, and it was possible bones were broken. He said, “Penny, I’m going to free you, but it may hurt.”
The engineer gave him a satirical glare. “Oh may it?”
Simon smiled at her spirit. He placed two fingers on the floor near her leg. A tattoo flared and he sent powerful pulses into the stone. Penny grimaced and bit her lip. Simon pressed his fingers down harder, pushing vibrations deep into the floor. The young woman paled further, but she watched even so. The stone beneath Simon’s fingers showed faint hairline cracks. Now he spoke a different word, strength filled him, and he drove his hand deep into the floor. He felt the rough stone shredding his skin, but he smashed even harder. The floor cracked and he wrenched a chunk of stone from around her ankle.
Malcolm took her calf and carefully worked her foot free from the clutching rock. Penny was breathing heavily with relief as Malcolm ran his hand over her ankle, like a groom checking the fetlock of a horse, and he said, “Seems sound enough.”
“Thank God you won’t have to put me down,” Penny hissed through the pain.
Simon pointed at Malcolm’s leg, which had been blue, and the Scotsman merely nodded that he was fine. Simon rose and pulled open the iron door of the lich’s cell. “All right then. Let’s have a look.”
With a few strokes Simon chalked a circle on the floor of the cell. He spoke the spell alive and runes appeared all around him. Simon gasped against his will.