Free Champions of the Gods by Michael James Ploof Page A

glowing bright silver. “Bah, tell ‘em to bring it on. I been itchin’ to try this out.”
    The three draquon flew swiftly toward the defenders as the first of the invading undead soldiers charged over the distant dunes. Gretzen turned to her people and cast a ward of protection over them all.
    Krentz spoke the words, and her bow shifted to spirit form. She pulled back the bow and the song of the dragon echoed across the field. She fired three glowing arrows in rapid succession. The draquon dove and barrel-rolled, trying to avoid the streaking missiles. One of the beasts misjudged an arrow’s flight and was hit in the chest. It exploded on impact, sending its dark elf rider careening to the ground.
    Arrows erupted from Krentz’s bow until the other two flying beasts and their riders were destroyed.
    “Hey!” Raene yelled. “Save some for me, would ye!”
    “You shall have your chance,” said Gretzen. She pointed at her apprentices and brought them to the front line. Gretzen ordered the other barbarians to hold the forest leading to the village. Those that she had asked forward called to their blades, which flared to life and glowed bright blue and silver. Aurora had helped her to make spirit blades for their people. Thirteen stood before her, seven elder warriors and six young teens.
    In the distance a horn blared. This was no barbarian horn, but rather high-pitched and wicked. A horde of undead crested the dunes and emerged from the beach, led by a dark elf necromancer flying a large draquon. A dozen of the beasts flew behind him.
    “There are hundreds,” said Azzeal.
    “They must not get to the village,” said Gretzen.
    The others followed her across the field toward Dirk and Chief, who were streaking across the frontline of the approaching horde, felling many and slowing their advance.
    Gretzen summoned Aurora on the run and pointed at the approaching horde. “They come to claim our lands! Protect the children!” Gretzen cried.
    Aurora flared to life and unsheathed a seven-foot-long glowing blade. The bound spirits of a wolf and panther came with her. Together they exploded from the group like a streak of lightning, flying across the field and tearing into the charging undead.
    Raene charged across the field as other horns blared in the distance to the east and west—likely Timber Wolf and Dragon Tribe answering the call of battle.
    Krentz riddled the oncoming draquon, taking many of them from the sky with her glowing arrows.
    A necromancer leapt from his dying beast when an arrow found its heart. He landed before the group of charging defenders. Raene was the closest. She charged the crouching elf and shield-slammed him with all her might. The necromancer flew backward through the air but turned to mist and was suddenly behind her. Instinctively, she brought her mace around to counter the blow that she knew would be coming. There was a flash of light as her glowing mace met his similarly deadly sword. The two spirit weapons crackled and hissed as they exchanged blows. Raene parried and sent the spirit blade out wide, coming in to strike at the dark elf’s head. He ducked the blow and brought his glowing blade around. Knowing that she had no time to block with her mace, Raene instinctively brought up her shield.
    The necromancer’s blade passed right through it and her arm as well. A searing hot pain shot through her, and she fell back with a cry. Her left arm had no feeling and hung at her side, useless. The necromancer lunged at her but was stopped by a glowing arrow that took him in the neck. He stumbled back even as another arrow hit him in the chest. He jerked and let out a long groan before falling to the ground, dead.
    Azzeal stopped beside Raene as the others charged past them toward the advancing horde.
    “Are you alright?”
    Raene grimaced and gritted her teeth against the pain in her arm. There was no visible wound to the flesh—it was her spirit that had been damaged.
    “Damn arm’s