15. Flight from Silverton
Standing with them was a group of heavily armed men, with no identifying markers that would attach them to any particular house or government. To Justin, the room felt much colder, and at least half of the men bore expressions completely devoid of humanity, their eyes carrying a dull, almost lifeless glint.
Justin didn't want to think it, but he knew that these men were undead. He felt fear twisting his stomach into knots just by being in their presence.
"Looks like the Baron didn't waste any time," Alistair commented dryly, his hand resting on the haft of his silver hammer. His posture was rigid, ready for a fight.
Justin could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Beside him, Lila held one of her daggers on her belt, her stance defensive yet ready to strike. Eldrin seemed ready to draw his longsword at a moment's notice.
The leader of the group, a tall man with cold, gray eyes, wearing leather armor and a dark cloak that seemed to drink in the surrounding light, stepped forward. "Well, well, Alistair of Drakendale," he sneered, his voice echoing strangely in the silent room. "Looks like you've been sticking your nose where it doesn't belong again."
Alistair didn't respond to him. His face was a stoic mask as he stared down the challenger, but the tension in the room seemed to increase tenfold.
"Justin, listen to me," Alistair said, his voice low. "I want you to take Lila and run. Fancy words won't do any good here. I'll hold them off."
"Not alone you won't," Eldrin said. His eyes flickered toward Justin. "I'll catch up with you later."
"No, we can't just leave you here!" Lila protested, but Alistair's stern gaze silenced her.
"This is not a request, Lila. It's an order. Now, promise me. You know where to go."
The moment hung in the air, and Justin could sense her uncertainty and then reluctant acceptance.
Finally, Lila nodded. "I promise."
The leader watched all this play out in silence. His gray eyes found Justin, looking at him with obvious disdain. "Seems like you've gotten yourself into quite a mess, boy. But not to worry. The Baron is quite merciful. It is you he wants, and if you come with me, you can save the lives of all your friends. He only wants to talk."
"If that's true, then why bring all these swords?" Justin asked.
"Justin, go!" Alistair ordered.
Alistair stepped forward, and with that movement, the tension snapped. Alistair and Eldrin moved with a synchronicity born of years of training. Alistair's hammer swept in a wide arc, felling the rightmost undead lackey, while the Ranger shot forward with adroit ease, engaging another of the undead minions in a series of swift and deadly strikes. The tall leader took a step back, drawing a long curved blade that, like his armor, seemed to drink in the surrounding light.
"Come on!" Lila said, pulling Justin's arm.
They sprinted toward the back exit. They burst into the night, the chaos of the battle echoing behind them. There was only a sliver of a waning moon, offering them the cover of darkness as they raced through the empty streets toward the eastern edge of the town. Justin had to trust Lila knew the way.
They ran as fast as their legs could carry them, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The cool night air stung Justin's lungs, but they couldn't afford to slow down, even after the sounds of fighting had long ebbed. At this hour, the streets were mostly empty, and in the smaller alleys and byways Lila selected, no guards challenged their passing.
It wasn't long before they were weaving up some steps into the eastern mountain flanking Silverton, on the opposite side of the valley where Baron Valdrik had his mansion. Over here, it was mostly industry: mines, smelters, and forges that would be heavy with activity during the day.
"Where's that damn path?" Lila asked. "As if we're supposed to know where we're going!"
Justin didn't answer. It was much too dark to see. He wished he had nabbed one of the lanterns hanging in the inn, but it was too late for that.
They had barely taken a few uncertain steps into the darkness when a chilling moan pierced the silence. From the shadows behind them, an armored figure with a pike emerged, its movements jerky and unnatural. It was surely one of the Baron's minions, and it had managed to track them here, ignoring the fight back at the inn.
Justin's mind raced. His Poison Barb ability had always been his go-to in confrontations, but this...this was something else.
All the same, he had to try.
With a surge of adrenaline, he unleashed the most cutting insult he could muster at that moment, aiming it directly at the undead creature.
"Is this the best you can do? You move slower than a snail with a limp!"
The undead's only response was a continued, relentless advance, unaffected by the verbal jab. Clearly, this creature lacked the sapience of the undead speaker down in the inn. More than that, Justin's ability hadn't even been activated. The creature before them was completely immune to it.
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But at least the barb caused Lila to wake up. She drew her throwing knives, the blades whistling with deadly intent. Despite the darkness, all three struck true, the last one in the neck.
But horrifyingly, the creature barely reacted; its hollow gaze was fixed on them as it extended its pike. The necromantic magic controlling the minion was not to be denied.
Justin felt panic set in. They were being cornered, their backs pressed against the cold stone of a forge.
"The head!" Justin said. "Go for the head!"
He was far too tired to run, but even so, he made a feeble bid to escape, pulling Lila along with him. He knew they couldn't keep it up for much longer.
They had only made it a few steps when something black shot down from the sky with a chilling screech, talons extended.
It was Shadowflight. There was a moment of fighting between the brave bird and the zombie soldier, and it wasn't long before the falcon disengaged, buying them another moment.
But another moment was all they needed. An arrow whistled through the air, piercing the undead soldier squarely through the head. The zombie stumbled and crumpled to the ground.
At the top of the steps stood their rescuer, his robes dark in the night and Shadowflight now fluttering on his shoulder.
"Eldrin!" Justin exclaimed.
Eldrin approached, offering a grim smile. "Night's not over yet, it seems."
A moment later, Alistair burst onto the scene, his silver hammer gleaming under the moonlight, his expression grim. With a mighty roar and a fatal swing, he delivered the final blow, crushing the undead soldier's head into oblivion with an overhead strike. It seemed Paladins were aware of the importance of the double tap.
Alistair, breathing heavily from the exertion, turned to Justin and Lila, his expression all business. "We need to move. The Baron's forces won't stop here."
"Why does he even care about me?" Justin asked.
"You're a loose end. This could crumble all of his ambitions."
Justin nodded, the reality of their situation sinking in. They were in the heart of a battle they had barely begun to understand, against forces darker and more powerful than they could have imagined. But with Eldrin and Alistair by their side, they at least stood a fighting chance.
"What have I gotten myself into?" Lila asked, working quickly to retrieve and clean her knives.
[Eldrin has joined the party. You now benefit from the expertise of his Pathfinder's Pace.]
[Alistair has joined the party. You are now refreshed by his Divine Aura, granting complete immunity to the Fear effect.]
[Alistair has assumed the role of party leader.]
No one answered Lila as Alistair led them into the darkness. Justin could hardly see anything, but the Paladin seemed to know the way. Before long, Justin realized they were in a narrow cleft, with a rough trail beneath their feet and nothing but the sliver of dark sky above filled with stars to light their way.
They kept climbing, Alistair setting a brutal pace despite his heavy armor and swirling white cloak. Eldrin brought up the rear, periodically turning to watch the trail behind. Shadowflight circled above, seemingly in communion with the Ranger.
Justin sucked in breath after breath; it never seemed to be enough. Even when they rose above the cleft, the narrow trail before them was engulfed in darkness. Silverton spread below them, hundreds of two- and three-story buildings looking deceptively peaceful and cozy below, more windows dark than yellow. The mountain slope soon became forested, and the dense foliage seemed to swallow them whole.
"Should've picked up that parcel while we had the chance," Lila grumbled.
Justin was far too winded to respond. But all it took was one thought of those undead minions, who likely didn't get tired, for him to keep moving. In his mind, he couldn't help but see Baron Valdrik's cruel visage leering at him.
Three nights. He had three nights. His only hope was to reach Mont Elea and pray whoever was there could really help him. He wanted to ask if there would be any bad side effects of the mark, but he simply didn't have the breath to ask, and no one else was talking.
They ran in bursts, walking only when Justin and Lila could not keep pace. At this point, Alistair cast some sort of light spell that illuminated the immediate space around them, which made the going much easier. Justin supposed Alistair judged that the cover of the forest would block the light from spreading too much.
"What's that magic?" Justin asked.
"Some sort of spell, Creator's Light, I think it is called," Lila said. "Paladins get some basic healing and support magic."
Over the next few hours, they wrapped around the mountain, and Silverton was left behind. Before them spread a forested valley filled with many hills.
"The trail ends here," Alistair said. "Eldrin, would you take over and lead with your Pathfinder's Pace?"
"Of course," Eldrin said.
Eldrin, leading the way, seemed to navigate the terrain with an uncanny precision that only a Ranger of his caliber could possess.
"Keep close," Eldrin instructed, his voice low. "The night is full of more than just shadows."
Lila, despite her fatigue, managed to smile at Justin. "He always talks like he's quoting from an ancient tome, doesn't he?"
Justin remained quiet at the joke, finding that he was simply too tired to respond.
Eldrin's Pathfinder's Pace was remarkable. Just as when they went to Raven's Rock, it allowed them to traverse the rough, uneven ground at a pace Justin wouldn't have thought possible. The natural obstacles that should have slowed their progress seemed almost to melt away before Eldrin's expertise.
However, as the hours wore on, even Eldrin's skillful guidance couldn't ward off the exhaustion that clung to Justin like a second skin. His legs felt like lead, while every step was an effort of will. The adrenaline that had fueled him thus far was waning, and the emotional weight of his revelations at the alehouse, combined with the physical toll of their escape, was catching up.
Finally, noticing Justin's staggering steps, Eldrin called a halt. "We'll rest here." He gestured to a shallow cleft in the hillside that would offer some protection from the elements and concealment from any who might be pursuing them. "We'll have to trust our enemies can't pick up the trail, and for Shadowflight to keep watch. It's only the latter of which I'm certain."
"Do you believe your Pathfinder's Pace has not adequately covered our tracks?" Alistair asked.
"I'm certain it has," Eldrin replied. "However, against the power of a high-level Lexicant and necromancer, it can be difficult to predict the future."
On that ominous note, they settled into the cleft, the ground hard and unwelcoming beneath them, but Justin was too tired to care. Lila and Eldrin busied themselves with setting up a minimal camp, while Alistair stood watch, his gaze scanning the darkness. He allowed his Creator's Light to dissipate.
As Justin lay down, the ground beneath him seemed to spin. He closed his eyes, and within moments, the exhaustion overtook him, pulling him into a deep, dreamless sleep. His last conscious thought was a mix of gratitude for the safety of the moment and a lingering worry about what the dawn would bring.