Necrophobia (21 page)

With one final withering glare towards Falkner she departed. It was all too easy to remember why he’d taken an instant dislike to her the first time they’d met. Unlike the other criminals hiding under Haures’ wing she was cruel and predatory rather than weak or broken. Possessing a sharp mind honed into a knife; ready to lash out at anyone around her.

There was a lingering silence for some time after she left.

“So all that was for nothing?” Falkner’s shoulders sagged and he could feel the stiffness in his muscles ache in protest. The undead dragon was far from a luxury ride between the hard scales and total exposure to the freezing and damp air. Not to mention the burns from Razakel’s near misses with his accursed magic.

Haures cupped his forehead with his left hand and sighed. “Perhaps not all for nothing.” His fingers ran back through his greying hair as he thought. “She’s right about one thing — those Caelites of yours are becoming too great a problem to ignore. I don’t care how you deal with them just get them off our backs so we’ve got some time to think.”

Falkner bit his lip. Captain Reiner Soranus was a royal pain in the arse at the best of times but he had a resourcefulness and a determination Falkner came to respect over the years. There would be no persuading him to leave, no way to change his loyalty, he was loyal to the core to commander Rhae. Reiner wouldn’t make it easy, he never did; leaving Falkner with precious few options.

“And what will you do?” He despised the Inquisitor but watching his plans unravel before them did not fill him with joy; like it or not their fates now intertwined. “We’re running out of time.”

“I know.” Haures sat down on the nearest available bench, knocking fraying papers to one side. “I’ll think of something. There is no turning back now; we press on, for better or for worse.”

CHAPTER FIVE

The Night Guard were if nothing else, thorough; as Reiner oversaw the interrogation of their prisoner it soon became clear they were wasting their time. Officer Hoffman spent the past hour and a half questioning the cultist who offered little that they hadn’t already heard. Still just as convinced as before that their cause was just and their struggle to cheat death was worthwhile. He answered in that same knowing manner. The intensity of the overhead lamp and the chill within the air did little to deflate his lofty demeanour. He simply smiled and spoke vague nothings in the irritating self-righteous rhetoric Reiner already loathed. He refused to give up the location or names of his cultist cell which came as no surprise. It was small consolation that this prisoner had yet to bleed without warning and die like his surviving peers from the siege of Caelholm. Their working hypothesis was that all the cultists fell victim a fatal psychic-impulse sent sometime after the attack. Their brains burned out as a counter-measure to avoid interrogation. Each of the bodies recovered from Lychgate bore the same tattooed marking on their skin, cold to the touch; each mark small and subtle. The tattoo a secret conduit to facilitate Haures’ insurance plan. Amelia reckoned the psychic-impulse was no simple task and required the utmost concentration. She believed this explained the lengthy window between Haures escape and the culling of his thralls. Perhaps he was unable to perform the ritual whilst escaping across the Endless ocean on dragonback. If that were true then it would only be a short matter of time before Haures realised what had happened at Lychgate and neutralised the rest.

Officer Hoffman insisted upon following protocol to the letter — normally an admirable trait in Reiner’s opinion but time was running out. He beckoned Cynthia over as Hoffman continued his interrogation with little success and they left the cold holding cell behind them.

“That was a waste of time.” Cynthia whispered once they were clear.

“Indeed. If he doesn’t hurry it’ll be too late.” Reiner frowned.

They watched as Night Guard officers escorting suspects walked up and down the corridors to the interrogation cells — each the same layout cold and featureless with a one-way window. Reinforced with iron and magic wards as the Caelite Stronghold was; but the Night Guard were not forthcoming about what level of psychic protection their cells used. If they were lucky any psy-shielding may prolong the life of their prisoner long enough to yield answers. Reiner however did not consider himself a lucky man.

“Lacks the charm of our dungeons.” Cynthia shifted her weight and ignored the distrustful glances from the Night Guard passing by. “Still, they’ve got better facilities than we do.”

“We’re not in the business of locking people up.”

“So what now? Back to Lychgate and hope Hoffman gets us some answers?”

Reiner nodded. “That’s our best option. If they found us that quick and ambushed us without the Night Guard noticing that means one of two things.”

They walked through the corridors heading towards the exit passed countless paintings of famous Night Guard officers and exaggerated depictions of vampires.

“Either they were there before us and knew we were coming, or they have a shortcut into the cemetery that the Night Guard don’t know about.”

“We can’t discount the possibility they’ve got a spy in the ‘Guard or the priesthood. If they can get to us they can get to anyone.” The bitterness in her voice mirroring his own.

“Exactly.”

They hurried up a long winding flight of stairs past a grotesque statue of an armoured Night Guard impaling a wretched and twisted vampire with their sword towards the ground floor.

“They won’t allow us back into the cemetery until they’ve completed their investigation though.”

“I don’t need their permission.” Reiner paused and allowed a small smile to cross his face. “I have a writ from the High-Priestess.”

“Ah.” Her own smile widened. “The cemetery is sacred ground.”

Isobel guided Claire and Hayley upstairs towards one of the briefing rooms on the first floor within the Night Guard station. She grumbled beneath her breath as she clunked her metal leg up each stone step; one hand gripping white knuckled up the safety railing.

“Don’t know why she can’t just come and see me downstairs.” Isobel announced more to herself rather than anyone specific.

“Least it’s not on the second floor like the Chief-Superintendent’s office.” Hayley’s defeated tone suggested this wasn’t the first time they’d discussed this.

Trailing behind at the back Claire paid little mind to their discussion instead choosing to study the distinctive armour worn by the Night Guard. Hayley’s scuffed and dented armour spoke volumes; one side of the silver breastplate bore deep claw marks. Her neckguard also failed to hide vicious scratches on the metalwork and a ring-shaped series of punctures around the side — the work of a Vamprey she surmised. The silver spikes jutting from key parts of her armour were worn and little more than stubs now. The blackened leather she wore frayed and fading with use. The wear and tear was impressive — having received her fair share of scrapes and tears trekking across the wilderness. Not to mention the close encounters with the overgrown wolves or territorial bears back home. She stared down at her most recent repairs — where the knife that almost killed her had torn through her stomach and felt a slight twinge of pain. Isobel and Hayley stopped without warning almost causing Claire to walk right into the pair of them; she stumbled to a halt and mumbled an apology under her breath.

Isobel unlatched the door marked ‘Briefing room #3’ and pushed it open with her walking cane. The carpet muffled her limp as she strode into the empty room and headed towards the barred window.

“She’d better be here soon we’ve got work to do.” Isobel grumbled.

“I’m already here.” A voice near the door replied in a clipped manner.

Claire’s heart skipped a beat as the voice spoke almost down her ear.

“Hate it when you do that.” Isobel turned and yanked a chair towards her and eased herself onto it.

Veronica smiled. “I don’t have your way with entrances I’m afraid.” She closed the door with a click and her eyes lingered on Claire’s face. “You look well, Claire.”

“As do you.”

Almost sixteen years prior Veronica had lived in Caelholm as a quiet and unusual girl with her family. Most didn’t take to her strange nature but Claire had formed a brief friendship with the older girl, her keen interest in vampires and the curses of myth apparent even then. Now that same girl stood before her clad in a deep blue travelling cape wrapped around her slim frame, the hood down. Underneath her cape Claire could make out gold-coloured leather armour over blue silken outfit. Her brown hair tied into a neat bun and streaked with blonde highlights and her posture regal and cultured. Transformed from the shy and unusual girl Claire once knew into a lady of high status and expensive fashion.

“You two know each other?” Hayley seemed amused at the development.

“Once, a long time ago.” Veronica replied as she sat down with the kind of grace and dignity Claire could never hope to emulate and adjusted her tinted glasses.

“Good. That’ll save us any tedious introductions.” Isobel frowned and suppressed a cough. Her breathing still heavy from her psychic projection and her uncompromising pace up the stairs.

“You look exhausted.” Veronica narrowed her eyes and peered closer. “What has happened to you?”

“I was trying to keep that fool Pietas and the rest alive. You try mind-wrestling with that dragon from miles away. It’s not pretty.”

“I’m sure Inquisitor Pietas knew what she was doing.” Veronica steepled her fingers in contemplation. “It’ll be a while before we hear from the survivors. The dragon destroyed at least one ship with its parting tidal wave.”

“The Caelites would have been an asset against that beast. She’s a fool to go in without them.”

“Some of Haures’ cultists attacked them in Lychgate not long ago. As far as I know they’re unharmed.” Hayley interjected. “Either they uncovered something interesting or they walked into an ambush.” Hayley handed Isobel a preliminary report.

Claire breathed an inward sigh of relief that Reiner, Cynthia and Alvar were safe.

“Noted.” Veronica skimmed through the paper and slid it across the table towards Veronica’s outstretched hands. She gripped it without looking and turned towards Claire.

“So, you’re the latest recruit for our little initiative then? You and that Soranus boy?”

“We wish to help.” Claire nodded. “How did you know Sevaur was here?”

Veronica chuckled. “I heard you two were within the city, we keep a close eye on who comes and goes in Kriegsfeld.”

“He was heading out to find Reiner and the Caelites and share some information but he’s been gone a while.”

“We will need their expertise. There’s simply no way we can deal with that dragon and minimise civilian casualties without them.” Hayley sat back in her seat, tapping the table with her finger. “Most of the Night Guard disagree but they are proud and short-sighted.”

Veronica read the Lychgate report with interest and nodded. “I agree. Tell me Isobel — you’re sure Natascha was at Brinestone?”

“Without a doubt. Natascha Pavlovich in the flesh, working with Haures.”

“Seems our suspicions were correct. That’d explain where he’s getting the funding and man-power for these raids. Victor will be glad to have some hard evidence on Dmitri’s power-play.”

“It’ll be hard to prove without psychic testimony. He can simply claim ignorance of her deeds.”

Sensing Claire’s unfamiliarity Hayley leaned in and whispered. “Dmitri Pavlovich is one of the greatest rivals for Lord Strigoi’s rule over Kriegsfeld. Natascha’s his eldest daughter and heir to his legacy. With most of the Strigoi dead now; Victor is all that’s left of his bloodline.”

“What happened to the rest?”

“Killed during a vampire hunting incident three years ago. We suspect it was foul-play engineered by Pavlovich and his supporters but he’s covered his tracks well. Now leadership passed down to Victor — the youngest son.”

“There have been multiple assassination attempts these past three years but thankfully young Victor has survived unharmed. Their attempts to infect him with the plague were crude to say the least.” Veronica shook her head. “Should he fall, Dmitri will take his place.”