The Silken Key

Chapter 17

The crowd of skeleton assailants was growing around them like a forest of thorns. The clacking of their bones rattled in Detlef's ears as he gripped his halberd, ready to take down as many of them as he could. But he was hopelessly outnumbered. It seemed inevitable that the undead horde would overwhelm them. It was all Detlef could do to offer a silent prayer for his soul and those of his friends.

Just as the skeletons started to come within striking range, they stopped. As their noisy movement ceased, another sound emerged. It was the shrill, raspy laughter of an old woman.

Detlef and the others all turned to look in the direction of the sound. Although they were surrounded, the skeleton army began parting to reveal a new figure standing between them and the tower. An old crone was shrouded in dirty black robes. Shreds of white hair hung limply from her scabby head. She grinned an almost toothless grin. In one hand she held a staff carved from bone. Under her other arm was a box which looked like a small chest.

"I knew it was only a matter of time before someone came," the crone wheezed. "What fools have my rivals sent to their deaths on this folly of a quest? Speak!"

There was a silence before Detlef realised everyone was looking at him.

"My name is Detlef Slatesworn," he answered in as strong a voice as he could, despite his fear. "Am I addressing Ingrid Soghir, the necromancer?"

Tariq squinted at Detlef. "Who else do you think could possibly be out here with an undead entourage?"

"You are," Ingrid replied. "And now that you are cornered and facing your doom, you would have me believe you came here to talk? I know your purpose. You have come to take the Key."

Detlef noticed Tabitha's eyes widen and she took a step forward. As she did, the skeletons in front of them shifted to block her path.

"We have not come as thieves," Detlef said. "Nor do we wish to take the Key for someone else. Our purpose is to ensure it does not fall into the hands of those who would do evil with it."

Ingrid gave a shrill laugh. "If you believe that whoever sent you to fetch the Key does not desire it for evil, then you are even more of a fool than you look. The Key can only be used to finish what we began two centuries ago. I will not allow that glory to go to anyone else."

As she finished speaking, the skeletons began moving again. Detlef brought his halberd around to point at the nearest opponent, knowing full well that he could not fend off every strike that would come his way.

A small yet powerful voice cut through the fearful moment. It was Tabitha. "I challenge you!" she shouted. The surrounding skeletons stopped again.

Ingrid cocked her head to the side and peered at the halfling. "What did you say, hobbit?"

"I said, I challenge you." Tabitha thrust her staff forward. "My name is Tabitha Fallowfield."

"Fallowfield?" Ingrid's face darkened. "I see now. You are the remainder of Tobias' bloodline, come to finish his work."

"I do nobody else's work," Tabitha said forcefully. "I serve a power that has promised the Key to me. Your magic cannot prevail against mine."

Detlef watched the astonishing confidence of the halfling. Half of him hoped that she would find a way to get them out of this situation. The other half of him was racing to think of a backup plan if it turned out she couldn't.

"You?" Ingrid guffawed. "Your sorry excuse for ancestor had more talk in him than power. I see the same is doubly true of his descendant."

Tabitha raised her staff a little higher, tilting it towards the necromancer. For the first time, the green opal at the tip was starting to glow. A spiral light, like a miniature galaxy, was swirling around inside it.