Page 94 of The War of Four Winters

Relief flooded Katyr's face at the sight of Niro alive and relatively unharmed. "Varyk?"

A grim smile touched Niro's face. "The silver bells will ring no more."

There was no time to celebrate. From around the bend came screams that belonged to neither ghost nor living person, but a terrible hybrid sound as Daraith's control began to slip.

"We need to move," he gasped, his silver tattoos flickering erratically. "They're breaking free. I can't—"

Aryn caught him as his knees buckled, supporting his weight without hesitation. "Niro, he needs help," he called, a rare note of vulnerability in his voice.

The battle mages had begun a coordinated counter-attack, their green energy now pushing back against the ghostly forces. One of the spirits emerged from around the bend, its form distorted and wild, no longer under Daraith's control. It let out a piercing howl.

"Move now," Klaus ordered, his warriors forming a protective line. "My people will hold them here while you reach the river."

"Lord Wolfheart," Ruith began, clearly reluctant to leave allies behind.

"This is not a discussion, Your Majesty," Klaus interrupted. "My daughter awaits your return to Calibarra. I intend to ensure you can fulfill that obligation."

Ruith clasped Klaus's arm in farewell. "Fight well, my friend."

Klaus nodded, already turning to organize his warriors against the approaching threat. "Go!"

Niro took Daraith from Aryn, supporting the exhausted necromancer as we raced back the way we had come. Daraith's face was alarmingly pale, the silver tattoos now barely visible against his ashen skin.

"The summoning took too much from him," Aryn explained tersely as we followed Niro down a different branch that spiraled deeper beneath the city. "He channeled too many spirits at once."

When Daraith's eyes fluttered open briefly, Aryn leaned closer to him, his voice low but sharp with a mixture of concern and irritation. "I told you not to overextend. You never listen." Despite the harshness of his words, his hand gently brushed a strand of hair from Daraith's face. "If you die in these tunnels, I'll find a way to bring you back just to kill you myself."

Daraith's lips curved in a weak smile. "Worth it," he whispered hoarsely.

"Stubborn necromancer," Aryn muttered.

Behind us, the sounds of combat mingled with unearthly wailing as Daraith's freed spirits lashed out indiscriminately.

The new tunnel widened as we progressed, the ceiling rising until we could stand comfortably. The flowing water beside our path grew deeper and faster, suggesting we approached one of the main channels that fed into the river beyond D'thallanar's walls.

"The river gate is just ahead," Niro explained as we ran. "A maintenance exit where the sewers empty into the Thallan. Captain Seagrave has boats waiting downstream."

"And guards?" Ruith asked, ever the strategist.

"Likely," Niro admitted. "But they'll expect us to exit through the city proper, not beneath it."

The tunnel ended abruptly at a massive iron grate where the water channel joined a larger flow that rushed toward daylight visible beyond. The grate itself was ancient, crusted with minerals and rust, but still solid enough to prevent passage.

Katyr approached it, hands already glowing. "Stand back," he warned. "This will draw attention."

Blue fire erupted from his fingertips, concentrated beams targeting the grate's weakest points. Metal groaned in protest, then surrendered with a shriek of tearing iron. The section collapsed outward, creating an opening just large enough for us to pass through single file.

Beyond lay the river itself, sunlight sparkling on its surface. The bank was steep here, with no obvious path up to the streets above. The river's current moved swiftly. If we fell in, there would be no easy swim back.

"There," Aryn pointed downstream, where several small boats had been secured against a partially collapsed pier. "Seagrave's people."

We moved quickly along the narrow bank, slipping occasionally on moss-covered stones. Niro continued supporting Daraith, whose condition seemed to be stabilizing, though he remained worryingly silent. The river gate emerged behind us, a dark mouth in the massive wall that surrounded D'thallanar. Guards patrolled the top of the wall, but their attention remained fixed outward, watching for threats approaching the city rather than escaping from it.

The boats were simple fishing skiffs, but they would serve our purpose. As we approached, Craiggybottom clan members rose from their hiding places among the reeds.

"King Ruith," their leader greeted with a quick bow. "Captain Seagrave sent us. The boats will take you downriver to where your forces wait."

"How many guards at the river checkpoint?" Niro asked, already assessing our next challenge.

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