Necrophobia (38 page)

Fire rained down upon the entrance hall as Valdgeirr descended upon the survivors. Its wings beating the air with little concern for the sheer size and weight of the dragon hovering above the smouldering courtyard. The dragon’s flaming eyes flickered across the humans scrambling for cover; its previous victim crushed within the talons on its forelegs. Claire picked herself off the floor coughing and shifting debris from the ceiling and dragged Hayley out of the rubble. Around them the last of Alba’s golems stomped towards the hovering dragon, all other nearby undead lay scattered in pieces across the floor. Neither Alba nor Razakel were anywhere to be seen and their absence was tangible.

“Claire!” Adrian coughed shifting the support beam off himself and the visibly dead body of an unfortunate Night Guard officer who’d taken the full brunt. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

She nodded and threw her damaged helmet to the ground and felt the rain trickling in through the smashed ceiling. She’d sustained a cut somewhere on her head and blood dripped down her chin. Sensing movement the undead dragon’s gaze turned on them with a snort. Its wings folded and tucked into itself and the creature dropped like a rock to the ground and landed on all fours. Up close she could see the degeneration and damage it had accumulated since Caelholm, missing teeth and scales deep cuts and a dented horn but it was far from weakened. Valdgeirr padded towards them each step shaking the ground and crushing anything beneath its claws. Claire winced as she watched an injured survivor trying to crawl away become nothing more than a smear upon the floor as it passed over him. The creatures tail whipped behind it, coiling and uncoiling in anticipation. It smashed aside the animated statue clumsily trying to stab the dragon with a spear. As the tail stabbed through it the magic animating it exploded outwards showering the area in dust.

Hayley yanked Claire’s arm and dragged her back. “We’ve got nothing! We need to run!”

Claire glanced away from the dragon as long as she dared trying to spot an exit. The set of double doors in the centre of the room was the furthest and on either side of the hall were another set of sidedoors.

“Get out of here! I’ll draw it’s attention.” Adrian shouted across the hall to them hefting a large clump of bricks and throwing it at the dragon. The projectile bounced off the armoured crocodilian head eliciting an irritated roar that shook the building.

“You’ll get killed!” Claire shouted as she backed away towards the nearest side-door.
Adrian laughed and hurled another brick at the approaching dragon. “I’m not an idiot Claire.” He backed up himself and glanced at the central set of doors. “I know what I’m—”

The dragon spat flame in his direction and he threw himself into a roll and ran towards the door. For all his bulk he was agile enough. He scooped up another boulder and shouted profanities at the dragon. That was all it took. Valdgeirr reared its head back and charged towards the three of them. Hayley dashed towards the doors opposite Claire and narrowly avoided the tail slashing out for her. She rammed into the door with her shoulder and slammed it behind her as the tail smashed aside the door bringing the roof down around it.

“Trust me!” Adrian shouted trying to draw the dragon’s attention as it rounded on Claire.

She nodded and threw herself to one side as another gout of flame incinerated where she’d just been stood. Leaping over a set of bodies and almost slipping on the blood-stained floor she kicked aside the double door and hurried down the corridor. Behind her a flash of white and searing heat poured down the corridor, the flames singing her exposed skin as she sprinted. Over her shoulder she could see the hall aflame as expensive rugs and curtains fed the fire and the air shimmered with heat. There was no going back that way. Muscles ached and burned with fatigue, she’d yet to recover from yesterday’s chase. Her run slowed to a jog as she was sure Valdgeirr had lost interest. In the distance she could hear it tearing apart other parts of the mansion. The sound of it roaring in frustration echoed throughout the building. The fighting elsewhere seemed to have died down, either they’d exhausted the undead lines — which she doubted, or the survivors were few and far between. The heat in the corridor became sweltering as the fire raced after her, she headed into another corridor and tried to find a way to double back to reach Adrian and Hayley. Patting down her equipment she found her rapier and quiver were still attached around her waist. The Night Guard armour was in shreds, her singed hair falling in front of her face. Claire dabbed at the blood dripping from her face and pressed on keeping her short-bow nocked and expecting trouble.

The lifeless and opulent halls were empty except for the bodies of butlers and servants scattered throughout. Claire couldn’t help but notice the wounds were human-made, slashed throats, sword wounds. Either the work of Dmitri Pavlovich and his mercenaries or Haures death cult. Pausing to look out a window she saw the storm circling overhead spiralling around them as it had in Caelholm. Razakel told her magic in great quantities disrupted the weather and there was no doubting that now, but it seemed a more mundane explanation than she’d hoped. Staring at the blackened storm clouds discharging lightning every few seconds and tearing at the building she hoped it was the god of storms displeasure. At least then there might be some justice for the destruction encompassing the city, the sheer blasphemy the cult had unleashed. In the courtyard resurrected bodies stumbled around in the rain searching for victims guided by the owl-masked robed figures of Haures cult. Movement in one of the windows on the second floor opposite her caught her eye. A flash of lightning illuminated a grey-haired man followed by cloaked figures stalking past a window. Haures was here. Her heart raced and she hurried to find a route through the confusing mansion; there seemed to be more corridors and halls than actual rooms. Soon she’d be able to get answers and perhaps some measure of justice. All she had to do was reach him. And take out his followers. And take out a telekinetic necromancer. Simple.

The Temple basement lacked the impressive architecture and murals of the ground floor, the portal chamber was built for function not faith. The stone gates took up the centre of the room and were archways carved from obsidian and laced with wiring and Spellstone. Overhead a complicated machine whirred and mechanical parts span around faster as the gates powered up. The signal had been sent all Reiner had to do was wait now. The Caelites were coming. Just wait, and not bleed to death. Reiner dabbed the bandages around his chest as blood seeped through them. The priests tended to his wounds as best they could when Reiner had nearly collapsed in front of them but healers were in short supply. Many were in greater need than he. He’d taken minimal aid and summoned the High-Priestess as they’d discussed. The High-Priests and high-ranking clergy fussed around her with anointing oil and an obsequious nature that Reiner found irritating. Their simpering and hushed whispers disrupted his thoughts. Beside him Sevaur leaned against a wall keeping his arms folded and watched the clergy work. Or appear to work, they’d done nothing useful that Reiner could see. After they’d carried Alvar’s body, Sevaur said little and they’d stood in silence. Reiner’s thoughts soured. Alvar so young and idealistic. So unsure of himself and keen to impress.

I should never have brought him here. He wasn’t ready after all.

The gates hummed louder as more and more magic flowed into the crystalline archway, lightning sparked between the archway at odd intervals. The simpering priests checked the machinery and bowed their heads in reverence. The High-Priestess ignored their mumbling for the most part and focused on the nascent light flickering within the archway. The priests kept the stone gates off by default for security. Each gate required a ‘handshake’ between a matching pair at a distant destination before they would work. People and matter could only be transported if both parties consented, the system could be shut down in an instant in the event of a betrayal or ambush. Gate chamber access was restricted to all but the highest personnel, it was an honour to oversee their activation. Complicated and dangerous enchantments and security measures protected the gates from misuse. It didn’t bode well to think about what the ingenious countermeasures did to would-be infiltrators. Security locks opened for specific people, usually a commander or local Inquisitor and would not yield for anyone else. Even the traitorous Inquisitor Haures could not breach the stone gates linking Caelholm and Kriegsfeld or Kriegsfeld and the Brinestone prison. The High-priestess had mentioned in an offhand manner the recent use of the gates. It didn’t take much to figure out whom by.

“We’re ready ma’am. Just need your authorisation.” A shaved headed priest intoned with a suspicious glance towards Reiner and Sevaur. The Caelite captain met his gaze with disapproval before making a point of looking elsewhere whilst the High-Priestess invoked the final rituals. Once she’d finished runes formed from blue light etched themselves around the obsidian archway and spiralled around it. They accelerated with each passing second until they became unreadable and the light between the arch intensified. With a flash the gate discharged and they could see a similar looking chamber full of armoured men and women through the gates. Two ornate Caelites passed through the gate spears at hand but pointed away from anyone out of respect. The honour guard exchanged a glance with the High-Priestess before more figures emerged. Knight-Commander Amelia Rhae appeared resplendent in her armour, her cape dragging behind her as she entered chamber. Flanked by additional honour-guard and at least two helmeted Captains she wasn’t taking any chances.

“High-Priestess.” Amelia bowed her head.

“Knight-Commander.” The High-priestess mirrored her.

Once the last of the Caelites came through the gates were disabled as a monk pulled a red lever and the accumulated energy discharged.

“Captain Soranus.” Amelia turned her gaze to him. “You are injured.” Her eyes glanced across his bandaged chest and burned arm. Though he’d not seen a mirror he could only imagine how dishevelled and bloody he appeared.

“I’ll live.” Reiner replied as he tried to meet her inquisitive expression. “Falkner is dead. Valdgeirr ravages the city and the noble district as we speak.”

She bit her lip in contemplation and nodded. “Alvar and Cynthia?” Amelia glanced around the chamber.

“Dead, and injured.” Reiner couldn’t meet her gaze.

“I see.” The Knight-Commander stared at Sevaur for a second or two before turning toward the High-Priestess. “We have your blessing?”

“Do whatever it takes commander. This ‘Valdgeirr’ is making short work of our forces.” The High-Priestess searched the crowd of honour-guard and the remaining Caelites. “Will this be enough?” Though she remained professional a waver of doubt entered her voice.

“I will undergo the rite.” Amelia replied simply and removed her helmet. “It is my burden to bear.”

Some of the escorting priests gasped and whispered amongst themselves. A short smile crossed the High-Priestess’ face. “Are you sure?”

“I am. We’ve already performed the preliminary rites upon receiving the signal.”

“Commander.” Reiner couldn’t help himself. “Is there no other way? The risk…” He refrained from adding ‘You could die’. It would make him look weak and sentimental in front of the other Caelites. With the death of one of his charges and the life-threatening injuries bore by another he already felt ineffectual.

“I am sure Captain.” One look into her eyes told him the depth of her conviction. She would not be persuaded otherwise.

He nodded in agreement and backed away as the priests and Caelites began the ritual. Amelia intended to become an Avatar of Caelus; a living conduit of the divine power of the gods. The stuff of legends. It was a blessing but the cost was extreme. To contain such power even for a short time ran the risk of death or burning out the host. Few successful avatars ever remained the same after the transformation. Becoming so close with divinity left them forever changed. Less fortunate Caelites leaders were unable to contain the gods power at all. The records never specified the exact nature of their fate but it was said to be unpleasant. And messy. All Caelite commanders possessed the capability to channel an avatar, at least on paper. It was a pre-requisite to become a commander at all along with five years or more as a captain and required the unanimous support of all the captains and the previous commander. In all the Caelites history few had ever attempted to become an Avatar of Caelus; even less were successful. Reiner steadied himself as best he could as he watched the rites begin. He had faith in the gods, he had faith in Amelia but putting that faith into practice was difficult. There was the very real possibility she might face a gruesome death. Beside him Sevaur drew closer and watched with interest. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence granted but Reiner envied his innocence and his ignorance. He forced himself to watch; to join his own prayers with the amassed priests and Caelites. He recalled the words of his father. ‘To become a leader you must have a heart of stone’. As he watched lightning flicker and surround the Knight-commander and her calm and dignified face he hoped he measured up. Amelia began to rise in the air as energy crackled around her, she kept her eyes closed and her breathing steady as she tried to remain as still as possible. To invoke a miracle was risky at the best of times, unnecessary movement or distractions would be tempting fate. Light continued to surround the levitating Amelia as the chanting continued, gaining in fervour until she became incandescent and they were unable to look at her directly. Shielding his eyes Reiner continued the rite hoping with all his heart it would work, praying with more conviction than he’d had in years that Caelus work a miracle here. Electricity arced off their weapons and armour lancing between their commander and them as the rite grew in intensity. The energy build-up coursed throughout the room causing hair to stand on end and the machinery to sparkle with life. One final chant remained and Reiner’s heart beat loudly in his throat as sweat dripped down his face. Now was the moment of truth.