The Dragons of Decay by J.J. Thompson

gave Simon a chance to look
around.
    The walls
of the building were shuddering as the sounds of screeching and
clawing, obviously from the attacking wights, echoed through the
large hall. He spotted Malcolm and Aiden standing side by side facing
the reinforced front door and felt a momentary sense of relief.
    So they're
still alive, he thought, thankful for the first time that their
blood, tainted by the bite of a werewolf, had made them damned hard
to kill.
    The pair
were bleeding from several deep scratches on their arms and faces but
their expressions were grim and resolute. Nothing was getting past
them while they could still stand.
    Behind the
warriors, Virginia, Anna, Eric and Gerard stood in a line, holding
each others' hands. They looked pale and exhausted and Anna, the
smallest of the group, was leaning against Eric, trying to stay
upright.
    With his
wizard's senses, Simon could feel the power emanating from the four
young people. It permeated the walls of the hall, strengthening them.
They were using their power to shield each other, but extending it to
the perimeter of the building. He could tell that their magic was the
only thing keeping the wights from tearing the place apart.
    Clara's
calls for calm finally got through and the panicked screaming died
down. The outside attack sounded even louder and more terrifying now.
    “ If
anyone else is wounded, step forward,” the cleric said tiredly.
“If not, I'm going to heal the guards while I still have the
strength. Get the children close to the fire pit and form a wall
around them. Those devils will not reach them while any of us live.”
    Simon
counted no more than twenty survivors and felt the beginnings of
despair.
    Twenty out
of what, almost forty souls, he thought. God, I failed them.
    The adults
shuffled around, moving the youngsters, just three little children,
close to the pit. Suddenly someone, Simon wasn't sure who, spotted
him.
    “ It's
the wizard!” a woman shouted and everyone, even the group
guarding the door, turned as one and looked at him.
    “ By
the gods! Simon, you're alive,” Clara exclaimed and hurried
over to him, limping from an unseen wound.
    He
attempted to smile and almost keeled over. Aeris moved quickly to
grab his shoulder, demonstrating just how strong he really was, while
Kronk braced his legs from below.
    “ Yeah,
more or less,” he told her as the cleric hugged him fiercely.
    “ What
happened?” she asked. “You went out into the storm and
that was the last we saw of you. We feared the worst.”
    “ There's
no time to explain right now,” he told her, squinting to keep
her in focus. “We need to get you all out of here to a place of
safety.”
    “ Where?
Where can we go that those hell-spawn can't follow us?” a large
man that Simon vaguely recognized as the town's blacksmith asked
dispiritedly. He was holding a massive hammer that was stained black
with undead blood.
    “ My
tower,” Simon told him and the others. “I can Gate six of
you at a time, so we'll have to make four trips, but you'll be safe
for now.”
    “ Simon,
can you do that?” Clara asked as she looked at him closely.
“You can barely stand.”
    “ I'll
do it crawling then,” he answered bleakly. “Who cares?
You folks are what is important.”
    He looked
at the children, none older than three and then at the adults around
them.
    “ I'll
take the kids first with one parent each.”
    There was
a momentary hesitation and then a tremendous bang reverberated
through the building, making them all jump.
    “ Damn
it all, what are you waiting for?” Malcolm bellowed from across
the room. “Grab the kids and go!”
    At once,
the children were scooped up and the three parents hurried to stand
next to Simon.
    “ You
two come along,” he said to the elementals. “You can see
to our guests' needs while I keep transporting the rest.”
    Thankfully
neither one argued. They just held on to his coat and waited.
    Simon held
out a hand to a desperate young