To his surprise, he did not see any coming after him. The only undead he saw were the decomposing corpses back at the cutters. They stood beside their catapults, staring into the air with vacant expressions and blank eyes. Caelum suspected that their spirits were magically bound to the ships; otherwise, they would have been climbing over the gunnels to attack by now.
From across the narrow silt channel, Rikus yelled, “Of all the rotten luck!”
Caelum looked over and saw the mul-at least, he saw the upper half of the mul. Rikus had plunged through the sun-baked crust and was stuck up to his breast in the soft mud beneath. To make matters worse, all four of the spirit lords were rushing toward him. Already the one with the smoking horns was diving at Rikus.
Caelum pointed at the spirit and spoke a mystic command word. A brilliant ray of crimson shot from his finger, bursting into a dazzling spray of light right before the thing’s eyes.
The corpse roared in anger, and beams of golden energy shot from his smoking horns. The spirit lord landed at the mul’s side, shaking his head in a mad effort to clear the spots from his eyes. The rays from his horns washed over Rikus. The mul screamed in pain and brought the Scourge down across the spirit’s neck, sending his ugly head skittering across the sun-baked ground.
Rikus looked back to the other three spirit lords, who were only a dozen steps away. “I can’t get out of this mess.” The mul drew his arm back to throw the Scourge.
“Take this.”
“No! Keep it!” Caelum yelled.
Not giving Rikus a chance to argue, the dwarf stepped over to the mast and tried to shove it toward the mul. The shaft was lodged more securely than it appeared and would not tip easily. Caelum continued to push. The pole slipped a little but did not fall.
Across the channel, the three remaining spirit lords had reached the mul. They spread out around him. The one with the chitinous armor positioned himself directly in front of Rikus, while the corpse with the beak approached from the side on which the mul was holding the Scourge. The last lord, a female with fingernails as long as needles, circled around behind Rikus.
Caelum continued to push against the mast, for he could feel it slowly tipping. At the same time, he glanced up the silt channel to see if he could summon help. Sadira and Neeva were several hundred paces away, flying low over the silt passage, their backs to him and Rikus. From what the dwarf could see of their heads, their gazes were fixed on the channel below, searching for some sign of the Dark Lens.
Caelum started to call out, but from across the passage, one of the spirit lords said, “Now, Lord Warrior!”
The dwarf looked back to see the corpse with the chitinous armor, apparently the Lord Warrior, dart in and level a vicious kick at Rikus’s head. There was a loud crack as the mul deflected the assault with his free arm, then he swung the Scourge at the spirit’s legs.
The Lord Warrior jumped the slash. He landed on one foot, kicking Rikus’s sword arm away with the other. “Now you, Lord Vizier!”
The other male spirit leaped forward, clamping his beak-shaped mouth around Rikus’s wrist. With one hand, the Lord Vizier grabbed the fist holding the Scourge and slammed the palm of the other into the mul’s elbow. Rikus screamed but did not release his weapon, so the corpse tried to force it free by wrenching the mul’s arm.
Caelum heard the mud crust crackle and felt the mast tip. Growling with determination, he slammed his shoulder into the pole and pumped his legs madly. The mast tilted farther, leaning across the channel. The glowing sphere on top cast rosy light over Rikus and the area around him.
The Lord Warrior shrieked and retreated, as did the female corpse. The Lord Vizier tried one last time to wrench the Scourge free. It proved a terrible mistake, for Rikus reached over and grabbed him by the back of the neck, then held him in place. The spirit lord opened his beak and screeched in pain. Wisps of black, foul-smelling smoke rose from his body. The corpse flailed his arms about wildly in a mad effort to escape.
Rikus pulled his sword across the corpse’s stomach. The Lord Vizier gave a harrowing wail and clawed madly at the dry mud in an effort to drag himself away. The mul struck again, and the spirit went limp. The body smoldered for a moment, then a wave of shimmering flames reduced it to ashes.
The last two spirit lords, standing on opposite sides of Rikus, looked toward Caelum. “Can you take care of him, Lady Bliss?” asked the Lord Warrior.
“Gladly,” answered the female spirit, spreading her needlelike fingers and stepping away from Rikus.
Caelum circled around to the other side of the mast, as if trying to hide. He could hear the mud crust crackling beneath its weight and knew it would fall at any moment.
Lady Bliss circled the area lit by Caelum’s spell, then stopped at the edge of the silt channel. She used one finger to motion for him to come closer, and the dwarf could see droplets of murky yellow fluid dripping from the claw.
“There’s nothing to fear, little man,” she said, gathering herself up to jump the channel. “This won’t hurt.”
“This will!” Caelum countered.
Using all his dwarven strength, Caelum shoved the mast. The mud crust gave way with a sharp crack, and the top of the pole swung around. The shaft dropped straight toward Lady Bliss, catching her as she tried to leap into the air. The red globe crashed down on her shoulder. The spirit lord did not even have time to scream before her body erupted into a pillar of crimson flame.
Caelum heard the Lord Warrior curse, then say, “The sword! Give it to me!”
The dwarf did not even take the time to look across the channel. His end of the mast had sunk into the dust, but the other end still lay propped on top of the opposite shoal’s mud crust. He took a running start and jumped, spreading his arms wide.
Caelum dropped about halfway across. He hit the dust face-first, sinking only a short distance before his chest touched the solid shaft of the mast. The dwarf closed his arms around it and pulled himself up, coughing and choking as he came out of the silt. Not even waiting until he could breathe clearly again, he crawled up onto the opposite shoal and turned toward Rikus.
Caelum found himself behind both his friend and the Lord Warrior. Having landed a glancing kick on the back of the mul’s skull, the corpse was just leaping away as Rikus tried to twist around and slash at him with the Scourge.
The Lord Warrior slipped a step to the side, positioning himself for his next attack. The dwarf charged, timing his assault to arrive as the corpse stepped forward again. The spirit lord stopped directly behind Rikus. The Lord Warrior raised his leg, preparing to level a vicious thrust-kick at the base of Rikus’s skull.
Certain that the blow would be fatal if it landed, Caelum yelled a warning. At the same time, he hurled himself at the Lord Warrior, taking the corpse high in the shoulder blades. The dwarf hit with a bone-jarring impact, his face pressing into the cold, hard scales that covered the corpse’s back.
The Lord Warrior cried out in surprise, and the momentum of Caelum’s charge carried them both over the top of Rikus’s head. The corpse crashed down right in front of the mul, then the dwarf rolled away.
Rikus brought the Scourge down half a dozen times before the Lord Warrior had a chance to react. By the time Caelum had returned to his feet, all that remained of the spirit were slabs of putrid flesh.
“Many thanks,” Rikus said. “You just saved my life-four times over.”
The mul had suffered more during his struggle against the spirit lords than Caelum had realized. His body was covered with lumps, huge purple bruises, and a dozen gashes that were starting to soften the mud around him with blood.
“I haven’t saved your life yet,” Caelum said. He raised a hand toward the sun and walked over to the mul’s side. “The Lord Warrior’s beating could take you yet.”