Belly of the Beast Warren Thomas (e novels for free .txt) 📖

Tane averted his eyes. He hated asking for their blood. It brought them pain, and sucked away their vitality, too. Neither Raven nor Joelle would be able to fight as hard now.

            This damned sword better be powerful enough to save us, he thought, heading back to the forge.

            He hammered away, engraving the last Rune of Power. Joelle stepped back from the quenching barrel, looking a little unsteady. She quickly pulled herself together, gave him a nod, and rushed toward the door to help. Tane watched her pass out of the temple, and then heard the reassuring booming of her magic bow and arrows.

            Lifting the finished blade up with a pair of tongs, Tane glanced up at the heavens before turning to the forge fire to heat it up again. According to Kamain’s implanted instructions, it would effectively complete the Sword of Power. He just had to polish and sharpen to make it pretty.

            Burying the blade into the eternally hot coals, Tane began the required prayers.

Chapter 90

            Sharp, angry shouts echoed through the ancient chambers and corridors, punctuated by the clash of blades. The witch had vanished into the temple a few minutes earlier. And praise Dakar for that! She’d decimated his ranks with her unholy bow. That bow also reminded him of his accursed father’s sword ring. Worse, her bow and arrows shown so bright they left spots in Nizar’s eyes.

            The stupid zombies continued walking fearlessly to their deaths. He didn’t have enough to overwhelm the defenders, so the three defenders very quickly butchered them all. As usual, the entrancement lifted as soon as a mortal blow was delivered. Their soulful wails of fear and despair grated on his nerves.

            Four mercenaries remained, moving up to engage the three defenders. And then the witch returned. She immediately sent an energy arrow into Trahmar’s chest. So Nizar started praying for another bolt. She had to be stopped before she completely wiped out his fighters.

            That witch is dead!

            The mercenaries shifted around quickly, doing everything possible to avoid the witch’s magic arrows. They were doing a good job of it, and it also distracted her. Nizar focused on her, praying more feverishly. The thought of blasting her into a thousand bloody chunks gave him a thrill. He could feel Dakar’s approval through their link as well.

            The energy balled up within, seen only by two balls of glowing energy around his fists. The more he stored up, the more painful it became. Pure agony, in fact. But for the glorious sight of the witch exploding into oblivion, it was worth it.

            When Nizar couldn’t bare the pain any more, the clasped his hands together and pointed his arms at Joelle. Jessy immediately pushed his arms down.

            “Wait,” the blonde teen whispered. “Our men are in the way. You’ll kill them, too.”

            Intense energy felt like it was burning him up, from the inside out. And she stopped him from releasing it?

            “Why do you care, girl?” he rasped out. “They are Dakar’s men, not ours.”

            That made her pause. He jerked away from her, turning back to the defenders. And the witch. Only, Joelle wasn’t there anymore. He stared incredulously as the last defender, Quinn, slipped through the vast silver doors.

            And they slammed the doors in his face. He heard the loud, echo sounds of mechanical locking devices being engaged.

            “She got away.”

            Nizar couldn’t believe it. Jessy’s interference cost him the opportunity to kill that vile witch. He looked at the wide-eyed teen, focusing on her. He smiled as he thought of the surprised look on her face when he blasted her instead. But then light glinted off the high reliefs on the door.

            The priest turned toward the door. “Out of the way!”

            The remaining three mercenaries scattered. Stepping forward, Nizar concentrated on the double-doors. Right where they met in the middle. Right over the spot he guessed the locks would be located for dwarves.

            And he unleashed white hot fury.

            Ka-BOOM!

            The sound took all of them to their knees, hands over their ears. The sound of those bolts was always ear-splitting. Nizar’s ears had gone numb down into his neck more than once during battles that forced him to throw a lot of bolts. They discovered it was ten times worse in enclosed spaces.

            Worst of all, the most powerful bolt he’d ever thrown only knock off some of the dark patina and left a shiny spot. The priest stared at the shiny spot slack-jawed.

            Looking to his left, he found Jessy kneeling and tapping her ears. Yeah, his ears were ringing louder than watch tower bells. Even the three mercenaries were focused on their ears.

            “Jhonny!” Nizar shouted at the closest mercenary. “Jhonny!”

            He looked at Nizar, who waved him over. They had to shout to hear each other.

            “Are there any more zombies?”

            “Yes, Your Grace. The team working the battering ram.”

            “Excellent!” he cried, giving the silver doors a sharp look. “Those doors are pure silver, and immune to magic. And there might be a magic barrier protecting it from my magic, too. So bring the battering ram in. Mundane works against such wards.”

            Nizar smiled as the three men hurried back toward the entrance. It would take a while to get the battering ram through the entry, and up to the temple, but there was no stopping them after that.

Chapter 91

            Sliding the glowing blade back and forth through the magically heated coals, Tane watched the color changes with a critical eye. He knew the exact color he needed to get the best temper. And it was just as important to ensure the color was even for the length of the blade.

            The sounds of battle continued unabated as he worked. He barely even noticed the constant booming of Joelle’s arrows. The clash of swords proved more worrisome, since that meant his friends stood toe-to-toe with the enemy.

            His shoulders tensed up as