Gravity and the weight of his armor hurled Stefan to the floor. He landed in a crouching position as the Titan reached toward him.
But the sorcerer merely toppled, his detached head striking the floor first with a disgusting squishing sound before bounding past the Solamnic. Stefan threw himself back against the nearest wall as the huge corpse flopped down where he had just been standing.
The dead Titan was one of the two he and Idaria had observed earlier. Idaria’s entrance into the hidden chamber must have alerted them to their presence.
Stefan braced himself against the wall and quickly looked around, wondering when the second Titan would show up.
Something clutched the wrist of his sword arm. Stefan instinctively grabbed the weapon with his other hand.
A three-digited, red paw that had sprouted from the wall held his wrist. The Solamnic chopped it off at the base. The paw released its hold, dropped to the floor, and faded.
But another blossomed near where the wall met the floor, immediately grabbing for his ankle. Stefan dealt with that paw as he had the first, chopping it off, then spun around to cut off yet a third reaching all the way from the opposing wall.
In swelling numbers, clutching paws began sprouting from both sides. Wielding his sword with two hands, the knight moved in a continual spin, chopping off one attacking appendage after another. Each he severed fell to the floor, only to dissolve to nothing.
As he turned toward the other end of the corridor, he caught sight of the second Titan gesturing. Like a puppet master, the sorcerer was coordinating the strange attacks. Stefan tried to charge him, but a flurry of grasping paws created a menacing barrier between him and his adversary. For every one the Solamnic dispatched, it seemed another two sprang into existence.
His armor kept their sharp talons from ripping him apart but also slowed him down. Stefan could not reach his quarry at the far end of the corridor, no matter how hard he tried.
Slash went his sword, again and again. Each time the silver light that bespoke of Kiri-Jolith’s blessing overwhelmed the dark sorcery, yet still the attacks multiplied and continued. Stefan summoned every iota of his training, leaping, dodging, and cutting.
But he gained little, and soon the Titan would devise a more lethal stratagem. He had one hope. The Solamnic whirled around one more time, chopping away at another set of grasping paws. Then, switching his grip in mid swing, he hurtled the sword like a spear at the sorcerer. At the same time, the cleric uttered a short prayer to his patron.
The Titan gaped as the blade flew fast enough at him to pierce his protective spells, burrowing deep in the right shoulder. The gigantic figure clutched at the blade.
“N-not-” was all he managed to stammer before falling back against one wall then dropping to his knees.
The paws dissipated. Stefan wasted no time in racing toward the stricken spellcaster. The Titan was not dead and, thus, still a danger.
Looming over the bleeding giant, Stefan planted both hands on the hilt of his weapon and pushed on it. The Titan cried out. His own talons scraped against the Solamnic’s armor, leaving sizzling scratches down one leg.
Easing up on the pressure, Stefan said, “One chance and one chance alone for you to live! Assist me with freeing my friend and her people, and I’ll spare your life!”
“Never-ah!” The scream came as Stefan pressed on the sword.
His voice filled with revulsion for what he felt forced to do, the Solamnic tried again. “Do as I say! Swear and I’ll stop this!”
Despite his agony, something in the Titan’s expression briefly shifted. Then he cried, “Yes! I swear to help you!”Stefan nodded but then his expression turned grim. Still leaning hard on the sword to keep the Titan from concentrating enough to cast a spell, the cleric removed the medallion. He slipped it over the stricken sorcerer’s head.
As the Titan registered what he was doing, Stefan stepped back and, silently praying to Kiri-Jolith again, plucked the blade free. The Titan let out a brief cry then planted one hand against the wound.
“There’s no need to heal it,” the Solamnic informed him. “That has already been done.”
The blue-skinned giant stared at the wound or, at least, where it once had been. It was truly healed.
“Strong sorcery,” he muttered.
“It’s not sorcery. It’s faith.”
The golden eyes flashed at the knight. “Then you had best pray for your god to be ready to receive you now!”
Stefan had already been prepared for such deceit. As the Titan started to cast his dark magic, the medallion glowed. The sorcerer gasped sharply, doubling over in pain.
“Your own power turns against you whenever you choose to use it so,” Stefan explained, “and you can’t remove the medallion. Only I can do that.”
The Titan glared but said nothing.
Stefan stepped farther back and waited. The towering sorcerer seemed to think it over then slowly rose.
“I have no choice but to obey. You spoke of your friend and her people. That would be the elf bitch who beds the mongrel-” At the warning in the Solamnic’s face, the Titan quickly went on. “I can take you to her people, yes, but where is she?”
“With them already, I believe.”
A brief, knowing smile escaped the sorcerer. Stefan gestured with the point of his sword at the wall. “Take me through there, and remember that I’m the one who can remove the medallion, not you.”
Scowling, the Titan strode over to the wall. He raised one hand palm forward.
The wall turned hazy.
“We may pass through,” the spellcaster said.
Stefan waved his sword. “Lead.”
With a curt nod, the Titan stepped into the wall. As the last of him vanished, Stefan immediately followed. The knight’s body tingled as he moved through.
He emerged to find the Titan awaiting him. A deep blue illumination filled the area and revealed that behind the Titan stood an obviously relieved Idaria.
“I feared that something had happened to you!” she blurted, rushing to his side.
The Titan smirked. Catching his look, the Solamnic tapped his own chest. “Remember the medallion and your oath.”
The smirk vanished. Somewhat sullen, the towering figure started down the corridor.
Idaria shot a look at Stefan then rushed to catch up with the Titan, daring to grab his arm. “Can you free them?”
He looked down at her with unconcealed contempt. “It seems I have no choice.”
Before she could explain to Stefan, they had stepped out into the immense chamber. At first, the Titan’s massive form blocked the knight’s view. As the sorcerer stepped aside, his face registered shock at the spectacle of the frozen elves.
“Kiri-Jolith protect us!” the knight growled. He brought the blade’s tip up to the Titan’s chest. “What’ve you done to them?”
“Preserved them healthier than you would have found them otherwise,” retorted the spellcaster.
“Undo this!”
“It will take some doing. There must be patience.”
Stefan frowned. “I’ll brook no delays, and the medallion will reveal any duplicity on your part.”
The Titan did not reply. Instead, he turned to the nearest of the figures. Stretching forth a finger, he let the tip of his talon touch the forehead of the frozen form.
A small, black spot appeared on the head of the elf, a female who likely looked more her true age than prior to her enslavement. Most of the elves had aged as none of their kind normally did until very old. They looked weathered, worn … almost human.
The black spot swelled then grew what seemed spidery legs that quickly spread over the elf’s still form.
But no sooner had that happened than the spot and its appendages faded away. The Titan swore.