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CHAPTER 42 - WHAT ConquERs All
 
Nyla’s head snapped up, and for the rst time in two days, she spoke.“He’s close.” Tarn looked up at her words. “Who is?”“He is…” she drawled. “The Master!” Nyla’s eyes rolled up, leaving onlythe whites visible. “He is very close, maybe half a mile at most… I must goto him now!”Even as Logan shouted, “Wait!” she was already kicking her horse in itsanks and tearing across the desert at a breathtaking pace. Tarn muttereda curse under his breath, spurring his own horse forward. The cleric quickly caught up to Tarn, and Logan had to shout to hearhimself above the thundering hooves. “Are you ready for this?”“For what?” Tarn shouted back.“To put her down!”“Who?”“Nyla,” he replied. “I can’t. You know it.” Tarn pulled his battered great sword from its scabbard. “If need be, I’mready!” he called, hoping his voice didn’t betray his emotions.He clutched the reins of his horse in his left hand and held his swordfast in the right. He felt the hairs standing up on the back of his neckas he listened to the wolves howling yet again. A few minutes ago they’dbeen howling like he’d never heard a pack howl before; now they were doingso again, and even louder.
Most likely connected to the 
stealer.
I just hope 
they’re on our side. Now if I could gure out some way to stop the girl without killing her…
His horse barreled on, eating up ground quickly, and before long thesmells of battle lled his nose. Blood… and something else. He kept his eyeon Nyla, and was surprised when she reined in her horse suddenly. Shecalled out to Tarn. “I can go no farther. Even here… the call is so strongI can barely resist. Go now, quickly, and kill that
thing 
before I lose allcontrol.”She sat down and crossed her legs. Her eyes were still rolled up intoher head, and she grabbed at the hem of her tunic, pulling on it so tightlythat Tarn could almost hear it tearing. “Go… Now.” Both men stared at her,so she shouted at them again. “NOW! While there is still time!”The two men exchanged a nal glance, then both nudged their horsesforward, toward the howls of wolves – howls now intermixed with a sound Tarn had hoped to never hear again – the scream of the
Stealer 
.
* * * Tarn
 
bounded over a low rise in the prairie grass, and swerved at thelast possible moment, narrowly avoiding the ying carcass of a wolf largerthan any he had ever seen before. It was obviously dead; even as it ew byhim he could see the blood pouring from a set of puncture wounds throughits chest. Instinctively, he knew what had made those wounds.
 
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Glancing up, he saw something that lled his heart with terror. TheStealer was howling, inging the bodies of wolves away even as the animalscontinued to attack it, dozens of them leaping and snarling at it. In fact, thecreature was surrounded by a pile of carcasses two and even three deep.A savage, feral grin was on the demon’s face, and it seemed as if it waslaughing uproariously, reveling in the slaughter all around. Tarn reined in his horse, looking for Logan even as the cleric camepounding up behind him. “I don’t think it’s seen us. Cast your binding spellnow, while it’s busy with the wolves!” The cleric nodded to him, and both men quickly dismounted. Bothanimals were badly spooked; it took little to convince them to gallop off inthe opposite direction. Tarn grasped his sword in both hands and started towards the beastat a steady pace, determined to buy Logan some time. Then he paused. The
 
Stealer was, as he’d seen, busily slaughtering wolves. What made this situ
-
ation even stranger was that somehow the wolves were being directed by anorc wearing the battle dress of a powerful Shaman. The stealer was shouting at the orc. “ These puny little soulless thingscan’t stop me, mortal! You will pay for killing the one who summoned me!She had the power to free me. Now I am stuck in this limbo forever, andthe fault is yours!”The demon ung the carcass of a wolf at the orc, but itbounced off what must have been some sort of mystic shield. The Shamansnarled a battle cry of his own, and shot a bolt of energy at the demon.Accepting the impact as if it were as insignicant as an insect bite, thecreature roared out it
s
deance.“Is that your best effort, little Ten-Kill? Youclaim to be a great Shaman in service of Lord Grummish, and that is thebest you can do?”
Little 
 
Ten-Kill? Little Ten-Kill! That would mean that this…
Realization dawned on Tarn.
That would mean that the beast is ghting those who summoned it! 
 The orc began casting a spell. “You’ll nd my sister taught me manythings as well as summoning you, hell-beast!” he screamed. The orc rearedback as he nished working his way through the ancient words, and hurleda bolt of pure energy at the beast. It slammed into the creature, energycoruscating off the demon’s hard, bony skin. It roared in fury, for this boltseemed to hurt it, and it leaped into the air, slicing a pair of wolves nearlyin two as it ew up and past them.Instinctively, Tarn knew that the beast turning on its creator was thebreak they’d all been praying for. He turned to Logan and saw that thecleric was busy preparing to cast his binding spell. “How long will youneed?” he shouted. The cleric barely paused in his work as he grabbed at his friend’ssword arm. Tarn, remembering their previous encounters with the demon,surrendered his blade for a moment, and the cleric chanted the words to thespell Tarn knew would infuse his weapon with the mystic energy that wasneeded to punch through the beast’s demonic hide. The spell completed,Logan replied, “Ten minutes. Hopefully less. Now go, before that thing killsthe chief!”
 
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Tarn said a fervent prayer that a lot less than ten minutes would beneeded. Ten minutes in a ght with the Stealer would likely leave them
all 
dead. He shook his head in forlorn resolution and broke toward the beast,running hard, tightening his grip on his sword. The demon had crashed down with a thud in front of the shaman,knocking another wolf aside with a backward kick of its right leg. It whirledin place, slicing through the air with its left hand, screaming in fury as itsclaws impacted on the shaman’s mystic shield, making a sickening screechthat sounded like nothing less than metal scraping on metal. The orclaughed, slicing out at the creature with his axe. The impact of his bladeslammed into the demon, clanging off of it with no apparent effect. The demon made a noise that would have been a squeal of glee from amortal being.“Your puny weapon can’t hurt me! It is only of this world, notmine!”It swung its right arm down, bashing into the orc’s mystic shieldonce, twice, then a third time.
Pity I don’t have one of those. It’s the only thing keeping him alive! 
He endeavored to keep the demon’s back to him as he closed the groundbetween them quickly. Between the Shaman and the wolves, the beast was so focused on ghting that it didn’t seem to even notice he was there.He kept jogging, not daring to sprint, knowing that he would need all hisbreath to ght. The orc shaman seemed to be on his last legs as the demon’s blowsforced him down. Then, from out of nowhere, the orc suddenly launched avicious counterattack. Bolts of lightning shot out from the orc’s outstretchedpalms in rapid succession, the impacts leaving scorch marks on the crea
-
ture’s body, and the demon staggered backward, reeling in pain.The beast quickly recovered its balance and began to deliver a series of  withering blows of its own. It absentmindedly swatted away several wolvesthat had leapt up to attack it as if they were buzzing insects, but its focus was clearly directed at the shaman. It shouted at Ten-Kill in its gravellyvoice,“Your skills are better than I had assumed; you are almost as muchof a match for me as your sister was. No matter. You are but one littlemortal, and you will fall to me as all of your kind ever have.”“My wolves will aid me, beast.”
 
“These little soulless things? They matter not. They don’t even provideme with a challenge, for their little teeth can’t hurt me!”As if to prove hispoint, he skewered a wolf that was snarling and snapping at its feet and ungit at into the orc’s mystic shield. The repeated impacts must have sapped itsenergy, for the shield seemed to buckle and falter, nally collapsing with acrash as the wolf carcass knocked the orc down and landed on top of him. The demon stepped forward, ready to deliver a killing blow. Tarn had jogged up into the beast’s blind spot, taking grateful advan
-
tage of its continued focus on the shaman. Shouting, he swung his swordand connected solidly with the beast behind its knee. The demon whirledabout, and Tarn looked up into its eyes and sneered. “The wolves may notmatter, hell spawn, but I do!” The creature sliced at Tarn as it grew even more enraged, but the knightdeftly stepped back, avoiding by the barest thread a blow that would have
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