The Walkers from the Crypt Read Online Free PDF Page B

and fired again and again even as the wall of fire raged.
    Then the corpses were running toward them, eight in all. Five were the long-dead skeletal remnants of the valley, but three were Galtan soldiers. Their opponent was apparently an equal opportunity necromancer.
    “Do you have anything else?” Elyana asked.
    “A web,” Arcil told her.
    “Perfect.”
    The wizard set to work, and with a few whispered words a long strand of material glistened into existence between a bush and wall directly in the path of the charging corpses. They rushed right into the sticky strands, where they flailed helplessly. Elyana was already on the run, arrow in one hand, bow in the other. She and Arcil bypassed the writhing bodies, closing on the Galtan position. The necromancer was standing once more, and she fit the arrow to her bow as she ran.
    And then there was something clasping her ankle and leg, and a rope of darkness had snared her wrist and waist. Black tentacles formed of shadow had shot up from the ground and wrapped her with implacable power, pinning arms to her sides, holding her legs in place. She turned her head and saw Arcil caught in the same fashion. The eerie, cold restraints were secure and inflexible.
    The wall of fire had faded finally, but by the light of the lantern he bore, the necromancer could be seen as he walked to meet them. Two of his still-living guards paced at his side.
    Upon closer inspection, the fellow did not seem especially intimidating. He wore a tanned, gray leather mask that concealed all of his face but his eyes, his mouth, and his chin. His hair was hidden by a hood that seemed tied to the mask itself.
    The man was round and short, with large hands and stubby fingers, and though the high boots of a huntsman flashed from beneath his robe, his waddling stride made it clear they were an affectation rather than his customary dress. Probably he was a merchant of some kind when he was not serving his state as a Gray Gardener.
    He stopped only a few feet before them. In one hand he held a tarnished pendant of silver and gold. The only sign of the arrow Elyana had skewered him with was a dark patch upon his jacket near his heart.
    His two uniformed guardsman looked scorched, from their blackened faces to their singed coats and eyebrows. One of them had both his sword and his teeth bared.
    “I would have been much more upset with you,” the necromancer said in a mild voice, “if you had not led me to this place with this treasure. Why, if you’re still alive when I decipher its workings, I may have to thank you.”
    “You don’t need to decipher its workings,” Elyana said. “I can tell you what it does.”
    The necromancer chuckled. “Really. And why would an elf know anything about it?”
    “You hold the pendant fashioned by Lord Dolandryn to ward his valley from invaders.”
    The necromancer’s mouth set firmly. This was apparently not the answer he’d expected. “How do you know?”
    “Why do you think we came here?” she asked. “I could have lost you the moment we entered the forest.”
    “You should just kill her, honored citizen,” the soldier with the sword suggested.
    “Hush,” the wizard replied without looking at him. “Elf, I have ways to learn the truth from you.”
    “There’s no need for any of that,” Elyana said. “If you free me, I will promise to tell you how the pendant’s magic works.”
    The Galtan laughed, a merry sound such as friends share at a good jest. No one joined him. “You wish me to free you both?”
    “Just me.”
    “Elyana!” Arcil said.
    “Now what would the state say if I were to show favoritism to a criminal? Justice must be blind, elf.”
    “Think what you’ll be able to do for the state with the power of that necklace.”
    The necromancer hefted the thing in one hand, clearly considering it. “Your proposal intrigues me. I sense the power in this thing, and know that it is linked to these dead.”
    “Then free me.”
    “No, no. I