The Sanctuary Series: Volume 01 - Defender by Robert J. Crane

Author:Robert J. Crane
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Epic, Fantasy, General, Action & Adventure, Fiction
ISBN: 9781463640330
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2011-06-29T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

As they mulled around the center of the tower, Cyrus passed Erith, still riding on her horse, as he strode to the front of the army. Catching his eye, she spoke. “I miss healing you today. Any other day, I wouldn’t, but today I’m healing a dark knight, and he takes two hits and crumples like a ranger in a windstorm.”

“Hey!” the dark knight and ranger in Erith’s group chorused in unison, outraged.

“What?” she snapped back over her shoulder. “It’s not my fault that the two of you can't get hit without dying.” She turned back to Cyrus. “I’d have better luck keeping an ant alive while a child stomped on its anthill.” Rolling her eyes at the dissenting opinions behind her, she tossed another insult over her shoulder. “The ant would probably be more grateful, too,” she grumbled. “Your fighter dies one or three times…”

Elisabeth rallied their army into the tunnel opposite the one they had just left. As they descended, there was another dramatic temperature change – this one turning the air brutally hot.

“It's like an oven-heated punch to the face,” Andren commented.

“Feels kinda like home,” Vaste added. The tunnel opened to another large cavern, this one again having a deep gash in the middle of it – but instead of containing ice, there was a lake of bubbling, boiling oil stretching into the distance.

“You think there are more lost souls in there?” Cyrus asked.

Vaste nodded. “Mortus is not a benevolent god. Those worthy of torment in the afterlife are subject to him, and remain with him for eternity.”

Andren took a swig of liquor from his flask. “Any guesses as to what it takes to land yourself here for eternity?”

Vaste's eyes narrowed. “It's all speculative, but there is the traditional range of sins – murder, thievery, intemperance...” The troll looked at Andren.

“Intemperance?” Andren asked, eyes wide. “You mean drinking?” An almost imperceptible nod from Vaste sent a visible shudder through Andren. “I reckon I'll be quitting drinking, then.” Cyrus raised an eyebrow at the healer, who looked offended. “I can quit any time, you know.” Cyrus held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, at which point Andren began to nervously eye the boiling oil again.

A few of the adventurers wandered closer to the edge of the bubbling lake; Cyrus remained leery and kept his distance. In an instant the surface of the oil erupted in several places around the bank of the pool as something shot out of it. Whatever it is, Cy reflected, looks a hell of a lot like snakes held by their tails out of the oil.

With a reptilian head atop a long, twisting segment of scaled neck, seven of the creatures burst forth and attacked those that had wandered too close to the shore. Cyrus watched as several adventurers were grasped between the jaws of the snake heads – or in the case of one of Goliath's rangers, grasped by the ankle and flung into the oil. Cyrus caught a glimpse of Malpravus, among those standing close to the shore, calm in the midst of the storm of action.

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