Shadows Return

friends.”
    The rhekaro went at once to Micum’s side.
    “I’ll take all the help I can get,” Micum said, shouldering his bow and taking Sebrahn’s little hand in his.
             
    Thero followed Micum back to the lip of the gully and watched the search begin.
    “They have a necromancer with them.”
    “I’d be more surprised if they didn’t.”
    Some men dismounted to inspect what remained of the corpses while others, trackers most likely, fanned out in all directions. Micum had covered their tracks, but they still held their breath as several men started in their direction.
    Micum reached for his quiver, but Thero stopped him. Then, forking two fingers at the men, he whispered a spell. A moment later, they wandered off in the opposite direction.
    “What did you do?” whispered Micum.
    “Just planted a thought or two. They’ll report that there’s nothing of interest in this direction.”
    The ruse seemed to have done the trick, until a darkly clad figure broke from the group and strode in their direction, accompanied by several swordsmen. It was the necromancer, and he knew they were there. Thero could feel the man’s mocking gaze on him already. “It’s the rhekaro. It’s like a beacon to him! My magic can’t hide it. Stay down.”
    Thero stood and cupped his hand in front of him. He spoke the spell for thunder and released it, feeling the magic leave his body in a great rush as a shock wave made the air in front of him ripple like water.
    The spell struck down the swordsmen, but the necromancer was still standing, coat whipping around his legs.
    “Orëska!” he called out. “Is that the best you have for me?”
    Micum drew his bow and let fly. The arrow sped true, but shattered before it could find its mark.
    “Save those for the soldiers. This one’s too powerful,” Thero snapped. He took a deep breath and summoned a fire spell. This one took an even greater toll; he would not be able to keep this up much longer, but he didn’t have much choice at this point. At his command, a wall of fire roared out, scorching a broad swath of ground as it went. This one was more far-reaching and was greeted with screams of pain and the terrified cries of horses.
    But still more men came on, and the necromancer with them, flicking tongues of flame from his fingertips. He was close enough for Thero to see that he was grinning as he pointed a hand at the ground beside him.
    A huge, dark, misshapen form rose from the blackened earth, like a waking nightmare. It had the body of a huge boar, but a man’s face with jutting tusks, twisted in agony.
    “What in Bilairy’s name is that?” gasped Micum.
    “I have no idea, but it’s bad,” Thero whispered, terrified. Behind the necromancer, more armed men ran forward over the bodies of their fallen comrades.
    “I make that about forty men,” Seregil gasped, one arm around Alec as they staggered up to join them, still clutching their knives. “I say we split ’em, and leave the ugly pig for Thero.”
    Micum caught them as Seregil stumbled. “You damn fools!”
    Alec sank to his knees, one hand pressed to his chest, but grinning. “Might as well die here as there.”
    “Suit yourselves.” Micum drew his bow again and concentrated on bringing down as many soldiers as he could. Their archers were shooting back now.
    The necromancer gave some command and the nightmarish creature bore down on them.
    “Tell me you can stop that,” Seregil demanded.
    Thero raised both hands, clutching his wand, and shouted the strongest protection spell he knew. Throwing out every last ounce of power he possessed, he imagined a limitless stone wall and projected it at the creature.
    It didn’t even slow down. Leaping into the air, it came down on them like a storm, knocking Micum and Thero backward down the gully. As Thero threw up his arms, trying to ward off the fetid darkness closing in around him, he caught a flash of white against the sky overhead, and suddenly the air was filled with a single crystal note. It made his skull throb and his teeth ache, but he hardly noticed as he watched the monster halt, then throw back its hideous head and dissolve in a cloud of stench and flies.
    Micum was on his feet again, bleeding from several wounds and shouting something that Thero could not hear over the continuous deafening sound. He was pointing up at the edge of the gully.
    Seregil and Alec lay sprawled halfway down the slope, bodies tumbled together by the force