Korrak's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

Boots pounded down the corridor. Armed guards spilled from side tunnels, spears and short swords ready. Korrak leveled his shotgun and fired. Two guards dropped. But more came, filling the space behind them. He worked the pump. The shell casing rang on stone. There were too many. He could not clear this hall alone. "Behind me!" Korrak shouted. He backed toward his friends. A spear grazed his arm. Blood ran warm down his sleeve. Caoimhe stepped up beside him. She held her egg against her chest with one arm. Her free hand gripped her staff. She was the fire druid who had waited outside, cool and patient, until the doors opened. Now her patience burned off. She pointed the staff down the corridor. "Get low," she said flatly. Fire poured from the staff's tip. It rolled over the guards in a wave. Men screamed and fell. The front rank collapsed into smoke. Mittsu roared and charged the gap. His scorpion tail whipped over his shoulder. He drove the stinger into a guard's chest, then hurled the body into two others. His brother had died behind these walls. Every guard he broke was a debt paid. "Korrak, the tunnel forks ahead!" he called. "They're running that way!" Fizzik danced behind them. A blue puppet snapped on his hand. "Loud noises coming!" the puppet squeaked. The gnome sang a sharp, rising note. The sound slammed into the guards like a fist. Their swords clattered down. They clutched their ears and stumbled. Freya slipped through the smoke. The half-goblin child raised her staff and grinned. A cluster of small lights burst around the guards' faces. They swung at nothing, blind. "This way's clear!" she shouted, pointing at the fork. Korrak fired one last shell into the wavering line. The corridor emptied. Broken guards lay on the stone. The rest fled deeper into the dark. Korrak lowered his shotgun and breathed hard. His arm throbbed. They had won the hall. He ran to the fork with Mittsu. Two tunnels split before them. One led down, toward cells. The other climbed toward a barred back gate. Korrak looked into the lower tunnel. Empty chains hung on the walls. Straw lay scattered on the floor, still fresh. "They moved them," Mittsu said. His voice cracked. "The Ashmarked. The slave-master took them out this way." Korrak knelt and touched a broken shackle. It was warm. His clan had been here minutes ago. Now the cells stood empty. He looked up the climbing tunnel, where the back gate hung ajar. Wheel tracks scored the dirt beyond it. A wagon. His people were being hauled away while he fought in the hall. Korrak stood. He pushed the shotgun's stock against his shoulder. "They're not far," he said. "We follow the tracks. Now."