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“The necromancers seek this ring?” Lhorok says.
“They do,” I reply.
“And will they know where to find it? That it belongs to Olra?”
“There was an orcish woman among them,” I answer. “With long, white hair.”
Something in Lhorok’s expression makes my chest tighten. “Did you catch her name?”
“They called her Grizela.”
His next pause makes my skin shiver. It only lasts a moment. In the next, Lhorok is racing down the steps and into the chaos below.
Judging by his reaction, it seems he knows that orcish necromancer very well indeed.
I glance at Natharius. The demon raises a brow.
“Well,” he says, “I suppose we ought to find the orc’s wife before the necromancers find her first.”
I nod and hurry after Lhorok who has been swallowed by the masses of orcs and undead ahead. I glimpse his armor and sprint toward him, desperate not to lose him in the chaos.
Skeletal hands lunge from the right.
“Ignira,”I snarl, blasting the undead with a hastily crafted fireball. Though it’s far from my finest attack, it’s sufficient to incapacitate my enemy.
I push on through the masses, carving a path of fire through the undead. Natharius guards our flanks, holding our enemies at bay with blasts of dark magic. With our combined strength, it doesn’t take us long to catch up to Lhorok.
The orc grips a giant axe. He wasn’t carrying it before, so he must have retrieved it from one of the fallen orcish warriors.
Lhorok cleaves through the undead with his axe. Dark lightning sparks from the blade as he strikes each enemy.
“Do you know where your wife is?” I call over to him. The clamor of death and destruction drowns out my voice, but Lhorok hears me all the same.
“Home.” He glances back at me. Fear clouds his eyes. “Grizela, she knows where we live. She will know where to find Olra.” His words are uneven as he swings this way and that at the undead.
I grit my teeth as I launch another fiery attack into a nearby ghoul. Though I’m curious as to the history Lhorok and his wife share with the orcish necromancer, now is not the time to ask.
“Are you sure she will be at home?” I ask as we push onward through the street. “You said she’s the Chief Stormcaller, so won’t she be helping to defend the city?”
“I don’t know,” Lhorok replies between breaths. “She shouldn’t be.”
An undead charges for me, pulling my attention from Lhorok. I blast it with flames.
“She’s . . .” Lhorok continues, his words laborious. “She’s with child.”
My lips part with horror.
Not only is his wife at stake, but also his unborn child. I was wondering why the Captain of the Guard is pursuing Arluin with us rather than leading the city’s defense, but a pregnant wife explains that decision. Though it probably can’t be called a decision. I’m not sure Lhorok is thinking right now. Fury, panic, and horror all rage in his eyes.
We break free of the first street and turn down the next. More undead swarm here, but at least there are more orcs to fight them. With how crowded it is, it’ll be a struggle to reach the end of the street.
Unlike me, Lhorok doesn’t hesitate. He charges at the nearest undead, his axe arcing through the air. Bolts of shadowy lightning spark. After another blow, the skeleton falls to the ground.
I follow Lhorok as his axe slices through the undead. Natharius brings up the rear, preventing any of our enemies from ambushing us.
We reach the end of the street sooner than I expect.
A death gate lies ahead, channeled by a necromancer. Two others stand guard.
