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Chapter Ten

When they reached the top of the hill, the giant, three-headed wraith saw them and screamed from all three of its wretched mouths. The sound shook the village, and gave the three defenders that sickening feeling associated with losing life force.

“Its screams!” Maurice said weakly. “I can’t protect against them.” He immediately went back to reciting his protective spell, but his voice was a mutter by now and the orb grew smaller and smaller. He stopped and choked down a potion—it helped, but not as much as they needed.

“We must fight for our lives and the lives of the villagers!” Gregor said, and stepped from the orb, wielding his mighty axe through the ephemeral body of the wraith. It screamed in anger, not pain, and the three of them realized that Gregor’s axe was hardly a match for this beast from hell. Gregor returned to the protection of the orb, and Terry could tell that he was well drained of his life force. Without speaking, Maurice tossed him a healing potion. How many potions did he have?

Terry stepped from the orb to throw her ball. She threw it directly at one head—it went through an eye, and returned through the other. The head disappeared, but Terry felt a massive drain of her lifeforce. She collapsed back into the protective orb, gulping gratefully the healing potion that Maurice tossed her.

“How many do you have left?” she shouted at him. Without pausing in his recitation, he held up two fingers.

“Gregor,” Terry said. “I have to fight. You’re not doing enough damage to justify the use of the healing potions. I can do this. You have to trust me.”

“I do trust you,” Gregor said. “With my eyes open.”

Terry stepped out again and threw the golden ball at the second head. This time, it went straight through the middle of its forehead, and returned on the same path. The wraith screamed again, and the head drooped, but didn’t disappear. Terry would have collapsed outside of the protective orb if Gregor hadn’t dragged her back. She gulped the second-to-last potion that Maurice tossed her and felt her strength return, but not nearly all of it.

“Go!” Gregor said, and Terry stepped out again and threw the golden ball at the giant wraith’s third head. The ball returned to her hand, and while it was clear she had done damage, the third head remained erect and screeching. Terry crawled back to the orb and while she drank the last healing potion, Gregor rushed the creature, wielding his axe with all its might at the drooping second head.

Weakened as it was, the wraith screamed in horrible pain at even the small damage, and the second head disappeared. Gregor stumbled back to the protective orb.

“Now, Terry,” he said. “This is our last chance.”

Just as she said it, the light of the orb was finally extinguished and Maurice collapsed to the ground. Terry threw the golden ball with all her might at the final third head. It entered, then tore through the wraith again on its return. As Terry caught the ball in her hand with a satisfying thwack! the wraith reached its long arms to the sky, screamed once more, and disappeared. The remaining wraiths, who had begun to encircle the homes of the villagers, saw that their leader was dead and rushed back into the forest, wailing.

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Severely weakened, Terry, Maurice and Gregor lay on the hill, panting and sick. The full moon shone upon them. Soon, the villagers emerged from their homes, saw them on the hillside, and helped them back down into the village. Tucking them into beds at the inn, Vivian gave them each a healing potion, then bade them to sleep. And sleep they did, exhausted and soul-weary from the battle with the wraiths.

The late morning light shone brightly in Terry’s window as her eyes finally opened. She rose from her bed and saw that her regular clothing was waiting for her, with the boar’s blood cleaned from her leather jacket and the rip nicely sewn.

“What a beautiful, thoughtful gesture,” Terry murmured to herself. Vivian was so kind. Terrry descended into the tavern, where she had found Gregor eating breakfast the previous day. Sure enough, he was there again, only this time Maurice was joining him.

“Welcome, warrior princess,” Gregor said grandly as she sat down. “Fix yourself a plate.”

Terry noticed that in spite of his gaunt frame, Maurice’s plate was quite well as heaped as Gregor’s.

“I’m glad I came down when I did,” Terry said, “or there would have been no breakfast for me!”

“Indeed,” said Maurice, as he scooped another mouthful of eggs into his gullet.

They ate in ravenous silence for a few moments, then Gregor suddenly tossed a bag of gold coins onto the table.

“What a heap!” he said.

“Is that from the bet?” Terry asked.

“No,” Gregor replied. “I paid off the storekeeper last night. These are the coins the wraiths left behind. The villagers insist that we keep them. Also, look at this!”

He pulled from his pocket a ring. The band was pure gold, and it was set with a fantastic ruby that would not have been out of place on the queen’s finger. It glittered in the morning sun.

“Wow,” Terry said. “Where did you get that?”

“The wraith lord left it behind,” Gregor replied. “Do you know what this is?”

“A ruby ring?” Teresa asked.

“It’s a suit of armor for you, in trade” Gregor replied. “Real armor. None of this leather jacket business for you anymore, boss-wraith-killer. How do you feel?”

Terry considered for a moment. A night’s rest had done her good.

“Strong,” she replied.

“We do, too,” Maurice and Gregor both confided.

“I feel like I could throw an axe from 50 feet to the bullseye,” Gregor said.

“And I feel like I could run faster than a horse,” Maurice added.

“Killing those wraiths made all of us stronger,” Terry said.

“Yes,” Gregor said, “and while I’m grateful as a woodsman can be for more strength, I don’t understand why they swarmed in the first place. I’ve never heard of any such thing. And that creature who led them! Why, it lives in legends only.”

Maurice nodded, grimly. “Of course as a cleric I’ve read of such things. But it’s like the dragon blood tale of your family, your majesty. It’s in the mists of time. These are strange and puzzling happenings. And you, my dear, are one of them. A warrior princess! It’s—unusual, to say the least.”

“Thanks,” Terry said. “Good to know I’m as weird as a wraith swarm.”

“Aw, don’t take it personal, Terry,” Gregor said. “We’re just trying to figure things out.”

“Well, I don’t know any more than you do,” Terry said. She stretched, and rose from the table to feel the sun on her face at the open door. “I’d never seen a wraith before a few days ago, let alone a wraith swarm. Maybe—”

“Maybe what?” Gregor said.

“I don’t know,” Terry answered. “Come here for a second.”

Gregor joined her at the door. “Nice day,” he said. “The air feels good.”

“Do you—do you see anyone on the hill?”

“No,” Gregor said. “Why?”

“No reason,” Terry said. “I think I’m going to go for a walk.”

She left the inn and walked to the hill that led up to the forest, where Old Tom was waiting.