Spellwright

The Chthonic ghost had warned him that Wrixlan and Pithan sentences would score his skin. But even so, Nicodemus was shocked by the searing agony that consumed his arms as the sentences unwound.

Once free of his arm, the purple language spun itself into Garkex, the firetroll.

Previously the construct had been no bigger than a child. Now the three-horned spell stood six feet tall and possessed arms so muscular they bulged like flour sacks stuffed with river stones.

Initially Garkex wore a grumpy why-did-you-wake-me expression, but the instant the troll’s eyes fell upon Typhon they bulged with fear. With a snort, the construct scooped up Nicodemus and began to tear the other Wrixlan constructs from his skin.

Every inch of Nicodemus’s arms and forearms burned with pain as the purple prose was ripped from him. He fought the urge to cry out as Garkex rolled him over and over and peeled off more fantasies.

After what felt like an infinity of agony, the troll set Nicodemus down.

All of the night terrors now stood around them: Fael the lycanthrope, Tamelkan the eyeless dragon, Uro the nightmare insect, and many others. Because the constructs had absorbed some of Nicodemus’s strength by storing themselves on his skin, each one had grown.

In the next instant the fantasies scooped up Nicodemus, placed him on Tamelkan’s back, and surrounded him with their concealing dark blue skin.

Typhon tossed a last spell at the sentinels. The Spindle had not fallen, but for fifty feet the tunnel’s bottom had been ripped out.

“Nicodemus, they are far enough back,” the demon called. “They can’t hurt you now. Nicodemus?” He had turned and was peering into the cavern.

“Magister Shannon,” Nicodemus whispered to Garkex. “The body there. We need to retrieve the body and escape.”

The troll nodded.

“Nicodemus, this is not the time to hide,” Typhon rumbled. “Wizards are finicky authors.” The demon began searching the cavern’s northern edge.

The huddle of night terrors-Nicodemus suspended in the middle-crept away in the opposite direction.

“The wizards believe in a false prophecy and think you are the Petrel,” Typhon said. “They’ll censor and kill you.”

The pack of invisible monsters approached Deirdre. Most of her body was still frozen, but she had managed to drop her sword. Her head hung forward and her chest heaved.

A sudden volley of Magnus spells filled the cave and smashed against Typhon’s side. The sentinels hadn’t given up. Roaring furiously, the demon ran to the cavern’s mouth to return the attack.

Seizing the chance, Garkex darted out to grab Shannon and slung the old man over his shoulder. With the troll gone, Nicodemus’s left shoulder had become visible. Typhon was still preoccupied by the sentinels, but Deirdre-standing not five feet away-turned her eyes on him.

Panic flashed hot in Nicodemus’s mind. How complete was Typhon’s control over her? For a moment he considered attacking her to keep her from raising the alarm. But the idea died almost as soon as it formed. Instead he pleaded with his eyes and brought a finger up to his lips. Garkex returned with Shannon and plopped the old man onto Tamelkan’s back.

Slowly Deirdre’s chest filled with air as if she might scream.

Nicodemus shook his head vehemently.

Her chest contracted. “Please,” she croaked, “kill me.”

“PLEASE,” DEIRDRE WHISPERED. “I hold most of his soul.”

Nicodemus felt his blood go cold. “I can’t-”

“You must,” she hissed. “If I die, so will he.”

The cavern shook again with Typhon’s roar. A red glow grew around the demon and then flashed. All was silent for a moment and then a distant sentinel screamed.

“Nicodemus,” Typhon called in an anxious voice. “More wizards will come soon.” The demon had turned around and was striding into the cavern. “We must…” his voice died as he looked down to where Shannon had once lain. “The old one,” he rumbled.

“Please!” Deirdre whispered.

Suddenly Nicodemus had to look away from an intense white blaze. It was Typhon. The demon had held up his right hand to cast a spell that shed pure physical light. It glared brighter than sunshine.

All around Nicodemus the constructs screamed. Physical light deconstructed Wrixlan and Pithan, and each of the night terrors was written in purple prose.

Typhon turned toward Nicodemus. In the piercing blaze, the night terrors had become visible. The demon’s all-white eyes opened wide.

Realizing that they could hide no longer, Garkex spouted flame from his horns and charged Typhon.

The other night terrors followed, shrieking out a caterwauling war cry.

Nicodemus grabbed hold of Shannon, just barely pulling the old man off Tamelkan before the eyeless dragon charged into battle.