I looked around for Biff and overheard the corporal in charge of the inquisitor squad, Landal, explaining what had happened just before the undead entered the city. The watch sergeant was with them, and I saw his name was Philip Dundgers.

  Philip looked around fifteen years younger than my father and was in good shape, as you would expect of a professional warrior. His blonde hair was cut short for easy maintenance, so it would never get in his eyes. Landal was a few years older than me and had the build of a warrior, even if she was a guild member of the priestly holy orders. Her auburn hair was long but braided tightly down her neck, and she had a smattering of freckles on both sides of her nose, which flared as she breathed in and out, still worked up from the recent battle.

  Landal said, “We never had time to set up prepared barricades at North Gate or West Gate. The only one we managed to build in time was here at St. Michael’s Way and Market.”

  She looked east toward the gate, but it was too far to provide details. She continued looking at the far city wall, but spoke to us. “I hope that those sent to the East Gate were successful. Most of the inquisitors departed with Inquisitorial Commander Latrisha to the north, but given the undead waves from that direction, I worry they may have been overwhelmed.”

  Glancing back toward us, she pointed south. “Several additional patrols were sent to the harbor to help load families onto the ships. It is where most of the evangelists went, or at least those who did not go to the hospital to help with the injured.”

  Watch Sergeant Philip added, “The captain told me once that the city used to be able to burn wooden bridges to slow undead or goblin advances, but some bridges were stoned over with huge culverts, and others were turned into permanent stone bridges.”

  Landal nodded. “Yes, these rapid deployment barricades, or RDPs, were the compromise. It was an idea Commander Latrisha had come up with herself.” The corporal admitted without a lot of enthusiasm for the idea.

  As I approached, he nodded to me in greeting. I pointed at his weapon. “Sergeant, we have a few minutes before the next wave hits, and it looks like we may have lost some of our last-minute rescuers to another part of the city.”

  We all looked up to see Lyra heading south to the harbor, and the druid, who was urging the barbarian and thief to move more quickly, was jogging up toward Brewer’s Boulevard and the direction the sages had retreated. As Sissaya reached the corner, she turned back, waved to me, shrugged her shoulders, and urged the two other golden cognitos to hurry.

  “Incoming!

  The heroes’ departure at the end of the battle and my guess that the worst of the invasion had passed were both premature because yet another wave was turning the corner by the wall at the end of Market Street due north of us. And this wave didn’t end after a dozen ranks of undead. It kept coming. By the time the end appeared, there had to be twenty-five rows of undead, ten across.

  All of us gathered around the barricade, looked north, and saw row after row of undead marching south. The creatures were in perfect sync and stretched across the entire wide roadway. Those others who had drifted away, perhaps thinking the fight was over, hurried to get a look.

  We really could have used the help of the other golden cognitos.

  I turned back to the watch sergeant. “I’d like to enchant your weapons while we have a minute. Could you please get your watchmen over here for a quick charm?”

  “Of course!” He said in relief, glancing again at the oncoming army of undead. He called to the other city watch members, who were all nearby. They were overjoyed when they discovered why they were summoned.

  I needed to drink one of my Lesser Magic Restoration potions to top off my casting points. Although most of my spells had come from my rings or staff, the staff was running low, and while I had a wide range of magical rings, I had not planned for a prolonged slugfest. I had a lot of diverse and interesting single-use rings, but few were still relevant to this battle.

  I cast Sharpen on each of their blades and explained that it would be temporary. I could do the same for half a dozen warriors, but I needed to be mindful of what magic I had left. I had more potions if needed, but I was hoping reinforcements would be coming.

  In fact, I suggested to the Watch Sergeant that he send for as many defenders from the harbor as he could. If we didn’t hold this wave here, it would march right into the wharf and all those innocents. He sent his fastest runner to the harbor.

  I wish I had thought of that three minutes ago.

  We repositioned ourselves, and the Holy Light barriers went back up. Based on comments I overheard, all the casters were getting low on magical casting points, which was unfortunate.

  I still had my ten, ten-point trials, magical potions, and one more 20pt Lesser potion. And while it was hard to give them up, I needed to share them with those present. I handed them all out, and even still, it was insufficient to fill everyone back to their maximum. I used my last Lesser Magic Restoration potion because all the Sharpen spells took me back to near zero. But at least by sharing, Bido and the inquisitors were better off than a minute earlier, and they sincerely appreciated the gifts.

  “I’m sorry to see FatFred leave,” Biff remarked as we watched the undead getting near. “He’s a good guy for a barbarian.”

  I agreed. I wish they had all stayed.

  The marching horde, perhaps two hundred fifty strong, got nearer.

  Grips tightened on weapons, and a few men looked behind us toward the safety of the harbor.

  I recalled my high school literature class and called out, “Stand firm, men and women of Keelwell. One day, on the anniversary of this battle, we will strip our sleeves and show our scars. And we will say, ‘These wounds I had on the day of the Deathlight.’ This is for our families. Our parents. Our children. Our friends. Stand firm, Keelwell!” I yelled the last words and was very thankful that my voice did not crack. I had no idea where that burst of courage came from, but the frightened faces turned serious. Determined.

  The warriors began to scream in defiance. Biff joined them, and then the rest of us added our voices.

  As we readied for the first strikes, a blast of light and a sound like the tolling of the cathedral bell cut through the center of the wide column of undead, and an old man dressed in blue metal armor strode forward. A full third of the undead simply disappeared in wisps of vapor.

  “The bishop!” Yelled the corporal, Landal.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Holy light blazed around him so brightly that looking at him was nearly impossible. He waded through the undead to his right and straight for us. Any undead who came into contact with the range of his Holy Light were instantly vaporized.

  I cheered with everyone else.

  The look on the bishop’s face was stone-cold anger. I had never seen him without a gentle smile on his lips. And while I had not attended services as an adult in recent years, I remembered him fondly from childhood.

  As we all watched, something truly disturbing happened, which, given the day's events, was saying something.

  All the undead stopped, turned, and faced the bishop. They opened their mouths, and a single voice echoed from all of them in a haunting, synchronized chorus: “Ah, there you are.”

  Suddenly, the undead broke their synchronized marching and began clumping together. They seemed to merge into each other. The groups got fewer and fewer, and the size of their clusters grew larger and larger.

  The bishop kept striding toward us, burning everything in his path. He reached us, having single-handedly destroyed two-thirds of the undead merely by walking near them.

  As we all looked back at the remaining third, they had joined into three giant, shadowy creatures. The inquisitors formed up around the Bishop as if to protect him.

  Given what he had done alone, I thought that was a little silly, but they were doing what they were trained to do.

  The bishop sighed and looked back to where we stood behind the barrier. He rested his eyes on Bido and me, who were once more standing at my side.

  “What new devilry is this?” Biff asked.

  The bishop added him in his regard. Biff was standing on my other side.

  “Those are shadow corpses. They are no longer undead, and our magic will not affect them the same way. Your magecraft will be sorely tested, I’m afraid.” The bishop said.

  Bido and I looked at each other. We have both been journeymen mages for about an hour. Maybe not even that long. We have been tested far beyond our limits already.

  I looked at Biff, and he gave me a confident nod. I raised my eyebrows and furrowed my brow. “I don’t have much left, Biff.”

  “It will be enough.” He said.

  The creatures stood up on insectoid hind legs and resembled deformed praying mantises. They were giants, perhaps ten or eleven feet tall, with thick limbs and bodies. The three advanced, but not in a mindless, synchronized manner. They were predators and individuals. It was as if the necromancer summoned them and then lost control of them or merely relinquished them.

  “Bisop,” I said, “join us on this side of the barricade.”

  Without turning, he said, “It will not stop them.”

  “But we'll be together,” I replied.

  And he looked back and met my eyes. He was old and weary. Whatever he had been through since the Deathlight began, he was not merely sitting idle, waiting for a big, showy entrance.

  “Gwydion, isn’t it? Randy’s boy.” He observed.

  “Yes, bishop. Please join us on this side of the barricade. I think the inquisitors will follow you.”

  He realized that the young inquisitors were standing around him in a defensive formation. His smile returned as he said to me, “Thank you.”

  The weariness seemed to leave him, or whatever had been especially heavy on his heart. He turned to the assembled defenders, who were all watching him in desperate hope.

  “Let’s form up around the barrier.” He said as he entered through the gate. Biff had opened it for him and the inquisitors. He closed it behind them and locked it in place.

  I looked at him, down at the lock, up at the giant undead shadow monsters, and then back to the flimsy wooden lock again.

  “What?” Biff said defensively. “You want me to leave it open?”

  I smiled. “Oh, no. Lock it for sure.” And I gave him a punch in his arm that hurt my hand more than it did his shoulder.

  One of the warriors present said, “But they will just step over the barricades.”

  The bishop turned to him, “And that will leave them vulnerable and off balance. What would you do if an opponent had to step over an obstacle to reach you?”

  The warrior nodded and replied, “I would rush and strike him.”

  “And that will be our plan. Strike with weapons and spells.”

  The bishop came to my side. “Regular weapons will not damage these shadowy fiends. Perhaps we should send them to the bay. The creatures will not pursue them over open water. Besides, it is me they are after.”

  “Many here have had their weapons enchanted,” I replied.

  The bishop turned to look at them and our group. “Indeed?”

  “Yes, I have been enhancing them between waves of undead.”

  “Well done, boy. Well done.” He strode away from the barricade a few feet and called out, “If you have had your weapons enchanted or you are wielding a magical weapon, you will strike true and they will be injured. If you do not have magical weapons, you can do no help here. Race to the bay and see that the innocents are boarded onto ships. If any clerics, inquisitors, or mages are at the harbor, send them here at once.”

  They hesitated.

  He added, “Go with my blessing and with as much urgency as you can muster!”

  Several replied, “Yes, bishop!” and raced toward the harbor. Soon, all the rest who had mundane weapons had joined them.

  “Well, let’s see what we have.” He said as he looked over the group.

  We had me and Bido as our mages. I think all of us would have traded both of us for a single wizard or elementalist. I know I would have traded us in a heartbeat. All three of the remaining inquisitors had magically enchanted weapons but could also cast spells. All eight of the watch and six of the warriors had enchanted weapons. Three additional warriors picked up the magical weapons from the two fallen watch members and one inquisitor. Biff smashed his gauntlets together, and they sparked nicely.

  If I had not thought to enchant weapons, we would be three plus the bishop instead of twenty-four with the bishop.

  The bishop patted me on the shoulder. “This may just be enough.” He turned to the defenders. “They will try to separate us, get us to back ourselves into corners, and then all turn to strike at me as their target. We must surround them and keep them busy.”

  He looked at Bido and me, and I got a bad feeling. “There’s nothing to it except for each of you to take one of the creatures, and I will take the other.”

  “I’m with Gwydion.” Biff insisted.

  “Can I have a couple of inquisitors?” Bido asked timidly.

  “That’s how we will do it.” The bishop said.

  I got the third inquisitor, Corporal Landal, and most of the watch. The rest of the watch and warriors spread out among the other two groups. The bishop had the smallest group, but most of the seasoned warriors.

  We didn’t have long to wait. As we clustered in the three groups, the beasts rushed the barricade, leaped, and soared over.

  Those of us with any distance spells or weapons let loose a first barrage.

  The other powerful area of effect spell that Adriana’s master gave me to go with Thunderstrike was Firestorm. The way they approached the barricade, I could not hit all three of them, but I could impact two.

  The spell was very powerful, and the barricades served as fuel for the magical spell. But the entire area exploded in what I would expect a forest fire would look like. The fire and the heat damaged two of them, and they screamed in an unnatural and high-pitched sound that stabbed our ears painfully.

  The bishop’s first attack was also a spell. He created or summoned a large, two-handed white glowing greatsword that floated independently beside him. At his command, it flew at the nearest beast, and its strike drew a gout of shadowy smoke that caused the beast to howl in pain.

  Biff led the charge against the middle creature, and they managed to surround it as it fled the flames of my spell. Most landed strikes, including a haymaker from Biff. The beast also howled, but it was more in anger than pain. But it had been damaged.

  The third group’s beast rose before they had fully arrived, and they fared worse than we had. The only thing that saved two of the warriors from becoming shadow snacks was a beam of sunlight from Bido. His attack did more damage than even the Bishop’s divine sword had done.

  Two of the warriors and one inquisitor were struck and knocked back, but none were down and out.

  It was a matter of seconds, but at least we gave the better of the first strikes.

  And then they did something concerning. They began to tremble and vibrate in place.

  The bishop shouted, “Strike them, they are summoning more of their kind!”

  Everyone rushed in and struck at them, but moments into the melee, they all split in two without decreasing their size or mass.

  I was especially proud of my next attack. I should have used it earlier, but something had hindered my recollection. But it was time to use one of my platinum SUS rings.

  I cast Banish Shadows.

  My battlestaff flashed in golden light, and beams shot out at all six shadow creatures. Each insectoid was surrounded by a glowing golden aura. They struggled against it and began to tear at and through the spell as if it was a filmy coating and not light. With a cracking sound that reminded me of two large stones slamming together, three of the shadows were banished, but three remained.

  The Bishop turned to look at me. “Well done! Great timing!”

  And that was when we discovered that there was even more to these creatures than big teeth and claws.

  They all vanished into the reddish Deathlight mist.