Epilogue

In a cellar connected to the tunnel system beneath Three Hills City

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Hallum lay on his side, his hands bound behind his back, his legs tied with leather cords at the knees and ankles. A wad of cloth soaked full with his saliva filled his mouth, making it impossible to speak or spit the mass out.

The flame of a lantern hanging on a wall hook flickered, creating shadows on the damp walls. Although the wick was set low, the illumination clearly outlined the dwarf guard standing erect and alert against the opposite wall, near the room’s only door.

For the ten-thousandth time Hallum cursed Daxel for Transporting away in the middle of the fight—one they were winning. Cursed Daxel for abandoning him for no reason, other than cowardice.

Hallum had no illusions about what awaited him. Torture, until he divulged information. Something he knew well—but not from the receiving end. He wondered if such knowledge would help him endure, or magnify each pain and horror inflicted.

Without a knock or any other warning, the ill-fitted door swung open. A lean man with a long face and broad shoulders strode in, his boots making no sound on the pea gravel floor. He wore a black shirt with a black leather vest, pants and boots, which accentuated his pale face and hands. His thin mustache, goatee beard, and shoulder-length straight black hair furthered the effect.

A second man followed him into the cellar. His clothes were ragged and torn and his skin was a mottled gray. It was a zombie. Hallum recognized the corpse. He’d been a fellow guild member named Paulter. He was last seen outside a tavern in Riven Rock a month ago. Why nobody’d seen him since was now obvious.

A cold shiver ran down Hallum’s spine as he recognized his fate. The shivering spread to his bound limbs, like he’d just been pulled from beneath a frozen river.

The pale man pointed to Hallum and asked, “Do you recognize this man?” The voice was deep, cold and distant, like he didn’t care what the answer was.

The zombie, who had once been Paulter answered. “I do.” The voice lacked emotion. It sounded like hollow exhaustion.

That the zombie spoke shocked Hallum so much that he stopped shivering. Paulter’s undead corpse held a spark of life—intelligence in his eyes. His eyes also held sadness.

“Will he have information of value to me?”

“He will.”

Hallum heard Paulter’s voice in the words, spoken as if through a hollow log filled with sopping wet moss.

He sounded empty, and beaten.

The pale-skinned man stepped forward, reached down and lifted Hallum by the front of his shirt as if he were a child. The pale man opened his mouth, revealing fangs.

Further dread fell upon Hallum’s heart, like frozen lead. It was Black Venom, the enemy guild’s leader. The captured thief struggled like a worm caught on a fish hook, to no avail. Sharp fangs sank into his neck.

As the Three Hills City’s guild master drank his blood, Hallum felt strength drain from his muscles. His body grew cold.

After the vampire dropped his meal, he said to the dwarf, “Kill him. Painful, but fast, then get the corpse to Galthorn.”

The vampire placed the tip of his boot beneath Hallum’s chin and lifted it. “The value of what you know lessens with time. But, not to worry. You’ll join your guild friend...” He glanced over at the dwarf.

Answering the unspoken question, the dwarf said. “I believe Paulter was his name.”

“Ahh, Paulter,” Black Venom said to the dwarf, and nodded approval. He then shifted his body and turned his head while keeping his boot’s toe unmoving beneath Hallum’s chin. He asked the zombie, “Was your name Paulter?”

The zombie replied tonelessly, “Yes.”

“Inside your undead body, are you still Paulter?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me, Paulter. What do you think of your existence as a souled zombie?”

“Miserable.”

Despite the dreary weakness permeating every muscle, Hallum began to shake uncontrollably again. The only warmth he felt came from the trickle of urine wetting his trousers.

“Yes, a quick, painful death.” The vampire stared down at the terrified man. He pulled back his boot, letting Hallum’s chin drop into the pea gravel. He said to the dwarf, “After Galthorn animates his corpse, with soul intact, and he tells us all we want to know...”

The vampire turned to the animated corpse standing two steps behind him. “Zombie, what is that man’s name?”

“Hallum.”

Hallum looked up at Paulter, then to Black Venom. He tried to cry out, “No, please, I’ll tell you anything,” but the gag holding the wad of saliva-soaked cloth in his mouth muffled the desperate words.

Black Venom turned back to the dwarf. “Remind the animated corpse that was Hallum that it can look forward to decades of misery. Misery earned through imprudent choices.”

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