Stormcaller: Prologue by James L

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Erlund's eyes then fell upon the plinth beside him and his blood ran cold. Arranged on the stone slab was a human skeleton.
Fighting the terror that coursed through him, Erlund struggled against his bonds. Nothing. His heart pounding, he tried again, grunting with the effort. The white-robed Galgarith's black eyes flicked up and focused on Erland. For several moments it continued speaking. Then the creature fell silent. Scuttling forward on arachnid legs, it approached Erlund's plinth while the others continued to chant. None of them looked up.
Bending over Erlund, the Galgarith's black eyes locked on those of the struggling clansman. Erlund held the cold, dead gaze defiantly, trying to disguise his fear. The creature's mouth twisted into a smile and Erlund's resolve faltered. He tried to look away but a hand shot out and grasped his chin, wrenching his head back. The Galgarith's fingers were as cold as ice. Erlund's shivering intensified.
"What...do you want with me?" he managed to say. His voice cracked.
To his surprise the creature replied, "You will find out soon enough." It spoke the Western language haltingly, but there was no mistaking its tone, which was edged with menace.
The Galgarith turned to leave, but Erlund quickly said, "Please...let me go. I have done you no harm."
The creature's black eyes narrowed. "Such weakness," it spat coldly. "It is a shame you that men die so easily, or I might have some sense of satisfaction." Straightening, it added, "What you have done is not important, but what you will do is."
"I will never co-operate with you!" Erlund snarled, his defiance not masking his fear. He desperately tugged at his bonds.
The Galgarith's lopsided mouth flickered into a cruel smile. "You have no choice in the matter." Leaning closer, it added, "You will know true pain before the end."
With those last words, the creature turned and moved away, its spider-like legs leaving shallow imprints in the snow. Erlund continued to struggle but his strength was failing. His shivers became more like convulsions. It was so cold.

A light snow had started to fall by the time the white-robed Galgarith returned to Erland's side. The clansman was no longer shivering and he had lost all feeling in his body, through which a strange warm sensation was starting to flow. The creature was holding one of the braziers and Erlund watched the chill flame flicker. Slender fingers curling into a claw, the Galgarith placed its hand on Erlund's chest. The background chant grew louder, more urgent. Several brittle words issued from the creature's lipless mouth and then it drew back before thrusting the burning brazier against the clansman's chest. Erlund screamed as the blue flames fed on his flesh. Pain surged through his body and movement came back to him. He thrashed in agony. The pain then abruptly ceased and Erlund lay stricken, eyes closed, shaking once more.
The darkness before his eyes then lightened. Fearfully he cracked open an eye. His expression of pain changed to one of surprise. An orb of what looked like smoke was spinning above the ground between the two plinths.