mad with pain? It tilted sideways and swept downwards. Huge muscles coiled all around Kormak. He braced himself to resist constriction with all his strength. Instead he found himself catapulted free.
Kormak reached out, trying to regain his grip on the Old One but it was too late. Legs and arms flailing, he tumbled through the air, hurtling towards the wall of the Museum.
***
Vorkhul watched the mortal arc away from him. He hissed with pain, fighting to stay aloft and keep his vision on the falling man. Even hurtling through the air towards his doom, the mortal held on to his sword, as if only death would make him relinquish it.
Everything happened slowly. The man fell. The light burned. He needed to hold on. Just a little bit longer.
Just a little bit . . .
Impact.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
STAINED GLASS SHATTERED around Kormak. The splintering of the window slowed him.
He collided with something soft and rough that absorbed the impact. He dropped half a dozen feet and hit the floor hard. Face down on the cold paving stones, stars dancing in front of his eyes, he fought to understand what had happened.
Above him light filtered through the empty frame of the stained glass window. He was bleeding from a dozen small cuts. His whole body hurt. His leg hurt. His torso felt like a mass of bruises.
He looked back to see what had broken his fall. The gigantic figure of the stuffed mammoth loomed above him. He must have hit its side and bounced. Kormak reeled to his feet, dizzy from the impact. A hideous high-pitched screaming noise filled his ears. A monstrous bat-winged figure blocked out the light of the sunstone.
The Old One flapped through the broken window and veered right, into the shadows. His eyes focused on Kormak. His claws extended.
Kormak struggled to raise his blade and defend himself.
***
At least he was out of the killing light, Vorkhul thought. His whole body burned. The taste of truesilver in his mouth made him dizzy. But he had done it! He was inside the treasure house and he had killed his most deadly foe. The worst was over.
It took his eyes seconds to adjust to the gloom inside the Museum. To his astonishment he saw that the human was not dead. He was rising from the floor, brandishing his blade in defiance, making ready to fight.
What did it take to kill him?
No matter. Vorkhul had no wish to do battle now. He searched through his stolen memories and found what he was seeking. He knew the general direction in which he could find the chamber of the moongate and its collection of vital treasures. He flew over the massive form of a great wyrm, trying to keep out of the light, making for the exit of the chamber. He glanced backwards and saw the human lurch into motion. The sight drove a spike of fear deep into the Old One’s brain.
***
Kormak gritted his teeth, ready to sell his life dearly. Vorkhul turned and Kormak knew that the Old One was about to swoop down on him.
Swoop it did, but not at him. It fled deeper into the museum. Kormak clutched at his blade and limped forward. It was time to finish this. Ahead of him he heard a long wailing inhuman scream. A shadowy wolf-like figure, shape shimmering as its wings retracted, reeled ahead of him
As Kormak broke into a run, an awful suspicion entered his mind. The Old One had a purpose in mind. It sought the moongate. If it reached it, it might escape. Kormak could not pursue while bearing a dwarf-forged blade. The runes on the weapon would wreak havoc on the magic of the Lunar artefact. And without the blade he would have no chance of overcoming the monster. If he was going to kill Vorkhul, he was going to have to do so quickly.
***
Vorkhul closed his eyes to keep from looking upon the elder signs in the room. Despite the fact he could no longer see them he could still feel their presence. They leeched at his strength and life. He sprang forward and landed within a chamber filled with sarcophagi and masks.
Ahead of him a nervous human strapped on a shield. An alarm bell lay close at hand. Beyond him Vorkhul could see the moongate and knew he had almost reached his goal.
The guard looked up at Vorkhul, eyes wide with horror and reached for his sword. The human sounded his alarm bell.
Vorkhul slashed the man’s throat. A