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assistance. Since he couldn’t cast true magic, he and all Dakar’s priests had to rely on their God’s awesome powers. The spells they cast were in truth simple prayers, requests for help, that Dakar would or wouldn’t grant.

            A tingling in the back of his skull told Nizar that Dakar was answering his prayer. With growing excitement, he glanced up for a bird. From a bird’s perspective, he could search the whole battlefield with impunity. Then he spotted a single bird effortlessly gliding above them.

            A raven! he thought with malicious glee. Sacred to Ashtar. Dakar will be pleased that I used a raven to help destroy His enemy and Her devotees.

            Reaching out with his power, Nizar caught the raven and pushed into its mind. He would enslave it, and see through its eyes.

            Suddenly a jolt shot through Nizar’s mind and down his backbone. The raven was fighting back! Impossible! Unless....

            “Ashtar! You bitch!” he cried, realizing the Goddess of War and Adventure had taken the raven for Her own. Then with dread, he said, “Unless She has manifested Herself here to aid Her followers.”

            The thought brought a surge of rage from Dakar, who was still linked to him via the prayer. Almost without thought, Nizar aimed his arm at the raven and growled low. Dark gray tendrils of power shot out at the raven. The bird cried in alarm and dived, then veered around to attack the tendrils with its talons.

            Nizar gasped as razor sharp talons tore into the tendril, because each rend manifested itself upon his body. Blood flowed as the raven savaged the tendrils. In the back of his mind, Nizar heard Dakar howl in rage. Then more power surged through Nizar and into the tendrils.

            With lightning speed, a new tendril exploded out of Nizar’s chest and streaked for the raven. The bird never saw it coming. In an eye blink, the raging raven was impaled and weakly flapping its wings. Its death throes were an inspiration to Nizar, showing for all to see that his God was the more powerful.

            As the raven was ripped apart, then consumed in arcane fire, Nizar thought, I only pray Ashtar wasn’t just using the raven, but was the raven! I pray that thieving War Bitch is dead!

            The thought of Ashtar vanquished set Nizar’s eyes ablaze. Any doubts he harbored were washed away. Dakar was going to destroy the Arisen. And Nizar was His sword!

Chapter 30

            There was little for Tane to see from his position. It wasn’t like any battle he’d ever heard about, and his uncle and aunt were full of stories. Instead of shouting battle cries, the zombies just shuffled forward in silence. He found that dearth of battle bravado more menacing than anything he could imagine.

            Many of the zombies carried edged weapons, with the rest bearing simple cudgels or rocks. A few wore the arms and armor of soldiers and warriors.

            “Maybe we should tell them about you,” Raven said, nudging Tane in the ribs. “I’ll bet that’ll scare them.”

            “Personally, I think we ought to toss you down to them,” Sergeant Gareth snapped. “Knowing you, you’d talk them into a stupor before nightfall.”

            “I whole-heartedly agree,” Joelle said.

            “Nobody asked you, witch,” Raven said, then turned on the sergeant. “Want to make a wager, Black-toof?”

            “What kind of wager?”

            “I say I’ll kill more zombies than you,” she said, patting a heavy leather purse hanging off her belt. Tane glanced down at it, wondering where she got all that coin. She was broke before they marched out of Kestsax. He reached down to ensure he still had his purse, and noted both Quinn and Armin did the same. “And I have fifty crowns copper to back up my claim.”

            “Fifty! I don’t have that kind of coin,” he said.

            “What do you have?” she said, getting a crafty look about her.

            “Nothing. I lost all my coin dicing the night before we marched,” he said. He gave her a speculative look, “I thought you lost all yours, too.”

            “You have a good sword,” she said, ignoring his remark. “And that’s some fine looking mail, too.”

            “It’s worth more than fifty crowns, too,” he said. “I’ll not accept such lousy odds. Make it three hundred crowns.”

            “I only have fifty,” she said, frowning. “All right, how’s this – my fifty crowns and armor against your sword and armor.”

            “Agreed,” Sergeant Gareth said. “Sealed with a kiss.”

            Raven moved back a step. “No! Your breath smells worse than a cesspit, and that blackened toof is probably poisonous.”

            The sergeant shrugged with a smile, but Tane noted it never reached his cold eyes.

            By that time, Dakar’s host reached the Kestsaxian army amid a sudden flurry of lightning strikes and ear-shattering rolls of thunder. Again, drums and bugles filled the cool morning air, fighting with the thunder for supremacy. They were followed by a bellowed battle cry from the Kestsaxians, then the crash of the two armies meeting.

            Joelle began chanting. While she chanted her spell, she drew strange runes in the air before her. Tane didn’t know what she was doing, and was slightly afraid to find out. The staticlike feel of magic tugged at the fine hairs of his arms and neck.

            “I hate the way spellcasting makes my skin crawl,” Raven muttered, eyeing Joelle venomously.

            Loud screaming and cursing stole Tane’s attention. The army seemed to be holding, but the zombies didn’t look like they’d waver anytime soon. He silently prayed the regular soldiers held. At the moment, he couldn’t recall any of the strokes that he’d been taught. And couldn’t understand why a few minutes earlier he had wanted to trade places with the front ranks.

            “Sweet Mother, how horrible,” Quinn groaned. “They seem to come out of their zombie trance just as they die.”

            “Only an Old One could be so cruel,” Raven said through clenched teeth.

            Tane fidgeted and tried not to look.

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