15

Phylactophobia

Oydd gathered the group in an empty side chamber, while his creations guarded the hallway.

Once everyone had settled into a circle, he stood in the center.

"I'm not sure who has heard our whisperings, so I want to be clear to the whole group. Our quarry has bound a portion of his soul and transcended mortality. This leaves the remainder of his soul untethered, which explains the sheer reach of his magic. But it has been only a few days since his mortality, which means he yet recovers. If anything, he is weaker now than he will ever be again."

"He's a lich?" Bax asked, his eyes wide.

"He is. An undead mage."

"With a phylactery?" the gnome pressed.

Oydd paused, taken aback.

Jeshu answered. "That is one word for it. A piece of his soul resides in a relic and he can no longer be defeated unless we locate and destroy it as well as his physical form."

"Oh... no, no, no, no, no..." Bax stood up and began to pace.

"What's wrong," Oydd asked evenly.

"Ah... well, I ought to have.. ah..." Bax pulled at his hair. "I ought to have said something earlier, but I have severe phylactophobia."

"Nonsense!"

"I am. I mean, I do! And it's," he suddenly gave the rudra a stern look. "Don't patronize me! It's a legitimate concern. And in my defense, I didn't think it would come up."

"Surely," Jeshu said with a smile, which he hid when the gnome looked his way.

"It is not a legitimate fear because it makes no sense. How could you be afraid of an unknown object!"

"Oh dear..." Bax continued to pace as he thought. "Well, think of it like claustrophobia—like a fear of tight spaces. But for my spirit. If he's strong enough to put his soul in an object, then he's strong enough to put my soul in an object. It's that simple. It's spiritual claustrophobia!"

"Says the man who jumps headfirst down ferret holes?"

"I would never!" Bax stated. "I said weasel holes. Gnomes are... not stronger than ferrets."

"But you're stronger than weasels?" Cricket asked, gauging the gnome's relative strength.

"Well, not... I mean, it depends on the weasel. One of my sons was killed by a weasel."

"You told me he was killed by a raccoon," Scorpion said.

Jeshu joined in, "You told me he was killed by—"

"You can die by more than one thing!" Bax said, exasperated.

"I don't think you can," Oydd reasoned.

"A common misconception. Regardless, I am not afraid of holes, because worst case you starve to death. Actually, the worst case would be..." The gnome shuddered and changed the subject. "If you get stuck in a phylactery, you're there forever!"

"If you wish to wait here," Jeshu answered sternly, "you are welcome. But if we fail, you are not safe."

"So the options are die now or die in a bit?" Bax said to himself, seriously considering his options.

"Die now, or get your soul trapped in a bit," Cricket said. "If we all charge him, he's unlikely to trap your soul in the middle of a fight. He'll just kill ya'."

"That is an excellent point," Bax said. "We should strive to go out as quickly as possible."

"Bax!" Oydd shouted. "Get a hold of yourself. We're counting on you!"

"On me?" Bax protested. "For what? A lich will see through any illusion I make, surely. The... dead don't get tricked."

"Because they are animated by hatred for the living. Your illusions have no spark of life, so the dead have no urge to kill them." Oydd dug his thumb into his forefinger as he thought, so roughly it began to bleed. "Stay here," he said bitterly. "The rest of us will continue on. Jeshu, will you be able to sense the object when we see it?"

"Is there any guarantee the phylactery will even be here?"

"Yes, he is a lich only three days old, at most. He cannot abandon it yet. Nor would he be so powerful if he secreted the object elsewhere. It is here!"

Jeshu nodded. "No, I... normally I think I could, but my goddess is..." The druid looked down at his gnarled hands. "Elkennah will not hear me."

"Then it falls on me."

*****

"Pip, it's time to cast the spell. You climb up on the doll, and repeat everything I say, okay?"

Pip only glared back.

Patches swallowed. "Pip, you have to follow my instructions, or you're not being a good familiar."

The ladybug took a step toward Patches and she yelped, scurrying away. When she looked back, Pip still stalked after her. "Pip," she called softly. "What's wrong with you? We used to be friends..."

What's taking so long? The mouseling heard a voice in her head, but it sounded slightly off. She looked at the portal, uncertain if Oydd could communicate from such a distance.

The mouseling waited until her familiar drew close then circled around him, darting for the totem. She picked it up in her teeth, and ran for the stairwell.

She ran down two flights of stairs before nearly bumping headlong into one of Cricket's shadows. It looked down on her with a look of concern.

"I need help," she whispered.

The shadow scratched his head and nodded, looking around for signs of trouble.

"Oydd needs me to turn this doll into a spell. I mean, to turn it into a totem. And the last time I tried, it tried to eat me, and then the next time my bug got mad at me."

The shadow nodded again, and when he realized the mouseling was done, he saluted.

"Does that mean you'll help?"

The shadow gave a thumbs up.

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Patches hesitated. "Does that mean you'll help?"

He nodded and the mouseling sighed in relief.

*****

Cricket entered the long, pillared hall before the throne room. The black, iron doors to the next chamber stood tightly shut. An icy fog poured through the cracks beneath. In truth, Cricket had not noticed the doors before. Nor had he paid much attention to the pillars or the layout of the halls. They were of no interest on his previous trip, and the corpses of no concern. Now he wished he had done some damage while the going was easy.

A very large dethkirok stood on its hind legs at the far end of the hall, adorned in corrupted silver armor that completely covered its temples, throat, and chest. Which left only the exposed stomach as far as its vitals were concerned, and Oydd had mentioned the demons having multiple sets of each organ.

The dethkirok held a greataxe in each hand. However, he made no motion to attack.

Jeshu entered at the head of the group. He paused, eying the recesses of the hall, and one of the azaeri shieldbearers moved in front of him.

Jeshu called back to the others, "My blood will still resist some of the darkness, even if I cannot call upon Elkennah. And the silver should have a similar effect. The rest of you stay in the back for now."

"I've got anti-magic," Cricket said, tapping a khopesh on his shoulder for emphasis.

"I do too," said the gnome.

"Let's not argue about who gets cursed first," Oydd quipped.

"Do you see the web?" Scorpion asked.

Cricket peered at the shadows on the far end of the chamber above the pillars. "I do now."

As he watched, the tip of a spiderleg disappeared around one of the pillars, accompanied by a clicking and a rustling.

"Be careful," Scorpion warned. "Last time, that stuff was razor thin."

One of the azaeri loosed an arrow from the far corner, and it seemed to blaze with fire as it flew. The shaft wedged into a soft spot in the wall, where it continued to emit light.

"What was that?" Cricket cried, excitedly, as he covered his eyes. "Ah! It's too bright." "Calm down," Oydd replied. "It's just dispelling the magical darkness around it. It can't possibly be blinding you."

"Oh, I didn't even notice it was extra dark." Cricket peeked out between his arms. "Okay, not to return to the whole 'who gets cursed first' thing, but I should send in my shadows. They actually kind of like curses."

Jeshu glanced over a shoulder, keeping the dethkirok in his periphery.

After a moment passed without a direct objection, Cricket gave a signal and his shadows started to creep around the pillars on either side of the room.

A chill breath filled the hall, and a green swirl of light wrapped around the demon. The light filled its eyes, and the dethkirok lifted its gaze to meet the druid. Its muscles bulged.

"What!" Cricket said. "We should have just rushed it! It wasn't even activated..."

Oydd grunted, unable to argue with the insect's logic.

The lizardman ghast and Skunk sauntered down the center of the hallway toward the dethkirok, breaking into a sprint as the azaeri sent silver arrows flying past them.

The demon lifted an axe and brought it crashing down on the lizardman's skull, cleaving it in two. His second axe lodged above the lizard’s hip, and the ghast crumpled at his feet.

Quickly, brutally, he brought the axes down again and again, chopping up the remains, sending shards of bone flying against the pillars.

Skunk pounced and took an axe to the chest, knocking him from Cricket's view.

The insect ran behind a pillar after his shadow, hoping to get to the witch first, but hesitated, wanting to help with the demon. He settled on making another shadow and pointed it toward the demon while he ran after the concealed arachnid. Before the clone even took one step, however, he grabbed it by the shoulder and swapped places.

As he started toward the dethkirok, he created a fourth clone, then stopped dead in his tracks. "Ah! no matter how many clones I make, I can't go fight the witch, because I have to fight the demon."

"Cricket, everyone can hear you!" Oydd shouted. "Just fight the witch."

"I can't. I'm the best option to kill that demon," he shouted with his back to a pillar. "I can actually drain it."

Oydd growled. "Well do something!"

Cricket peeked out just as a silver arrow grazed the demon and it charged Jeshu.

"No..." Cricket said under his breath as he ran to intercept. "No!" He yelled with such ferocity that the demon turned toward him, hurling an axe with an incredibly powerful flick of its wrist.

Cricket ducked, careful to account for his antennae, and the axe crashed into the pillar behind him. Immediately, the dethkirok lunged, and Cricket had to drop flat to the ground to avoid a collision. The dethkirok's tail flogged his face with the weight of an entire ratling, which sent his head pounding back against the floor.

Cricket rolled aside, tossing two shurikens that bounced harmlessly from the demon's stomach then ducked under another axe swing as his shadow landed on the demon's back, hacking at its neck.

The dethkirok ignored its rider, pressing Cricket with two more blows. The insect dodged backward twice, whacking the demon's arm each time to drain as much magic as he could, conscious of the fact that his back must be mere inches from the wall. He faked left, then rolled to the right, kicking off of the demon's knee to catapult himself further from the raging dethkirok.

He came out of the roll on his feet, and sprinted back toward the others, panting for breath.

"Tag!" he called as he passed the druid, and Jesh readied his hammer, but Cricket didn't dare look back until he had reached the rudra's side.

Cricket heard a quick release of air and a wet, stringy, black web sprayed from above. He tackled Oydd out of the way, setting him on his feet inches from the sticky, steaming mess.

"Those are cursed webs." Oydd yelled, "Don't touch them!"

"Why would I touch them?"

"I don't know! To try to drain the curse out of them or something?"

"But that... but that wouldn't work, you're saying?"

"Cricket, don't try it."

The dethkirok crashed back-first into a nearby pillar and a shell of ice quickly covered it, but it still moved unhindered, swinging an axe toward one of the azaeri. The weapon penetrated the silver shield, mangling one of the spearman's arms in the same motion.

Jeshu stepped in to stop the demon's second attack by swatting the entire arm aside with a two-handed blow of his hammer, and followed up with two solid hits to the demon's head. A thick crust of ice formed over its face plate. With its hearing compromised, the beast appeared disoriented.

Cricket and one of his shadows moved in, but the clone suddenly bounced up toward the ceiling.

For a split second, Cricket envied the move, before he realized it had been caught in a web. He continued his attack, plowing into the dethkirok's side, and managed to stab it near... where he hoped its kidney was?

When he withdrew, two silver arrows penetrated the beast's side, close to his own stab.

The insect readied another charge, feeling a bit dizzy, just when his own decapitated head landed in front of him.

Cricket gasped, letting out an embarrassingly high-pitched sound, before the head dissolved.

He looked up in time to see the arachane lunging through the evaporating smoke of a defeated shadow clone.

The arachane, Rusalka, fought with two thin, slightly curved scimitars. She spiraled down upon him in an amazingly swift flash, and the insect struggled with all four arms to simply parry the barrage with no chance for a counter.

An arrow whizzed by, but the spider's moves were so unpredictable that it missed its mark by several feet.

Cricket nearly tripped over an azaeri corpse as he backed up. Despite all his training, he had never encountered an advance so elegant and disarming. Not even Jade, he imagined... no by this point he must have surpassed Jade.

"Eight... eight feet!" Cricket blurted. "Eight feet are better than eight arms! No, no... we don't know that because I don't have eight arms."

"Cricket," Oydd shouted. "Everyone can hear you."

"Cricket," Cricket shouted, getting the attention of one of his shadows, "Little help!"

The shadow moved in to flank the witch, and together the two pressed the advantage. But the witch began to chant, in a soft, almost sweet, repetitive hiss, and Cricket's vision darkened.

"She's hexing me!" Cricket screamed. He started swinging at the air as if trying to swat away a swarm of gnats.

"You can't cut a hex," Oydd yelled.

Cricket let out a cry of discouragement. Not at the advice, or the curse, but at how far away Oydd was! Cricket and his shadow had moved too quickly across the room chasing the witch. He watched as the arachane cut down his shadow, though it put up an excellent fight, before it whirled upward and out of sight.

Cricket looked about hopefully for Scorpion, on the slim chance he was nearby. But the ratling stood across the room, atop the dethkirok's decapitated corpse.

His vision grew so blurry that he could only identify the ratling by the glowing lavender claw.

Rusalka sprayed a black webbing from above, with a pungent, noxious odor that nearly knocked him out. Before he sensed her move again, she was behind him.

Still, Cricket fought. He swung with a khopesh that bounced from an invisible, magical shield. Again, to the same effect. And just as he dropped to the ground, gasping for air, Bax moved in, swinging the Witch Clipper overhead with both arms. The bloodstone sparked when it hit the magical barrier, which shattered like glass into a thousand pieces, then delivered a decisive, bludgeoning blow to the arachane's temple.