Forest Kingdom Trilogy 3 - Down Among the Dead Men

to the floor. Wilde landed awkwardly, and his elbow jarred painfully on the solid stone. His hand instantly went numb, and he watched despairingly as the sword flew from his unfeeling fingers. The troll reared over him, huge and hideous, and Wilde slammed a punch into its gut. The creature laughed hissingly. Wilde heaved to one side to try to throw it off, but the troll moved with him, one clawed hand wrapped tightly around Wilde’s throat. And then its other hand ripped into his belly and out again in a flurry of blood and guts, and Wilde screamed shrilly. Blood spurted from his mouth. The troll left him shuddering on the floor, curled around the awful wound. Blood poured past his clutching hands and pooled around him.
    Flint snatched up her sword from the floor and ran the troll through from behind. It died trying to clutch the blade as she jerked it free. Flint spared Wilde a single glance, and then had to turn back to take her place at the Dancer’s side again. He’d disposed of the three trolls that were bothering him, but even he was having a hard time holding the doorway single-handed. Flint could feel blood trickling down her neck, and her head screamed in pain with every move that jarred it, but she couldn’t stop and rest, even for a moment. The Dancer needed her. She cut savagely at the nearest troll, and smiled coldly as it fell to the floor, clutching its torn throat. Another troll took its place. The Dancer backed away from the door a single step, and Flint fell back with him.
    Constance stood very still, battling the forming mists with the last of her magic. Flint and the Dancer fell back another step. More trolls forced their way into the cellar. The three Rangers fought on, knowing it was hopeless but fighting anyway, because there was nothing else they could do.
    Deep in the earth below the fort, the Beast stirred. The great cavern above it shook violently. Massive slabs of stone cracked and groaned as they moved against each other, disturbed from their resting places for the first time in uncounted centuries. Jagged cracks appeared in the cavern walls, and loose earth fell from the ceiling in a steady rain.
    MacNeil clutched the cavern wall as the ledge shifted suddenly under his feet. Thin cracks appeared in the stone, and Scarecrow Jack was thrown off balance. He fell awkwardly and threw his torch away to cling tightly to the heaving stone with both hands. The blazing brand disappeared down into the darkness and was gone. MacNeil quickly put his lantern down and moved back to help Jack. Hammer managed to keep his footing, but the liches kept pressing forward, undeterred by the destruction around them, and it was all Hammer could do to hold them off. One of the dead slipped and fell from the ledge. The falling body grew smaller and smaller, and was finally swallowed up by the darkness that hid the bottom of the cavern. The liches surged forward along the narrow ledge, which suddenly rose and fell a good foot as the cracks in the cavern wall widened still farther. Hammer lost his balance and staggered into MacNeil, who tripped over Jack’s outstretched legs. He fell on top of Jack, and the two of them rolled toward the brink of the ledge. MacNeil jammed his hands into one of the cracks and pulled himself to a halt, but Jack skidded over the edge.
    MacNeil lashed out desperately with his legs, and one of them kicked Jack in the chest. The outlaw grabbed the leg instinctively and stopped his fall. He hung helplessly over the long drop, clinging to MacNeil’s leg with both hands. MacNeil forced his hands deeper into the crack in the stone, wedging them against the weight that was trying to pull them loose. For a long moment neither of them dared move, and then Jack started to climb up MacNeil’s body. MacNeil groaned out loud at the pain that swept through his arms and hands as he fought to support the double weight. And then Jack was able to reach out and grab the ledge, and MacNeil let out his breath in a great shuddering sigh as the extra weight suddenly disappeared.
    Jack clambered up onto the ledge again, and MacNeil rose painfully to his feet. He looked down at the drop and then looked away. He’d never liked heights. He handed Jack the lantern and turned quickly back to see how Hammer was faring. The ledge was still trembling under his feet, but it seemed to have steadied somewhat. All around him the cavern walls were shifting and groaning, and there was a faint continuous rumble from