Chapter Forty
“Kinjitay.” The iron-shod staff in Regecon’s hand struck the stones amidst a shower of blue sparks.
The change that came over the room was more felt rather than seen. Rings of dust and ensorcelled sigils remained calm and still, but somehow there was a presence, a sense of power building.
From the center of the sixteen circles, Lucian let out a startled chuckle and stared about his feet in amazement. The vampire had walked straight into the room and had placed himself in the center of the circles before he realized the three men he followed were no longer alone. “A trap! How amusing.” He glanced from Regecon, to Ambrisia, and then to the small group of wizards and the three men standing by the wall. He rolled back his head and laughed, then lurched forward snarling. “You think you can match your magics against the power I possess?” The advancing vampire came to a stop against the innermost ring of powder. He froze, poised in the air, as if trying to push forward through an invisible, impenetrable wall. Blue sparks flared along the circle and the sigils burst forth with a fiery red glow.
Regecon lifted his arms and began to chant, holding the staff up like a pennant on a field of war. Across the room Ambrisia intoned her voice and joined him. “Sixteen circles burning bright, sixteen candles fed by light ...”
Howling with rage, Lucian slashed before himself with his clawed hands, pounding on an inviolable barrier only he could see or feel. Suddenly, it gave. With a loud crack and a scattering of flame and sparks, the innermost circle roared into a brilliant light, then flickered and went out.
Lucian stepped forward with a pained expression on his face. “Impressive wizards, but not enough.” He drew a long, ragged breath. “I will break your spell a piece at a time and then I will fill these circles with your blood.”
The vampire moved forward again, and the fifteenth circle flared up to thwart him.
Coragan watched Lucian’s posturing and listened to the vampire’s words with a thin smile gracing the corner of his lips. It quickly vanished, however, when the first circle fell.
Galladrin stepped up beside him. “Did you see that? He broke one of the circles!”
“I know,” Coragan said pulling out his sword. “Get your weapons ready, we may have to finish this the old-fashioned way.”
Nodding, the rogue stepped up to the edge of the ring of circles with rapier in hand.
From the darkened corner of the room, Korina felt her jaw grow slack in disbelief at what she had witnessed. The vampire hadn’t been in the chamber a mere two minutes and he’d already broken the first circle. If he kept up that pace, he’d be out of the rings before they could complete the invocation of the jar.
Her eyes flickered to the glittering gem-encrusted pottery dish placed by the outermost ring. It was a small object, the containment jar, covered with emeralds and rubies and other gemstones, but it held their only hope of success; her only hope of success. She patted the second jar in the folds of her robes, then glanced back to the first. The fifth sigil along its rim, the sigil of etheric transference, faced squarely across the room at her. There were a total of seven such invocation sigils on the jar, and each had to be activated in turn in order to ensnare the vampire. Unfortunately, they would only be effective as long as he remained within the confines of the outermost circle. If he succeeded in passing beyond that, nothing they could do would force him into the jar.
Korina swore silently to herself, forcing from her heart all but the faintest traces of fear. This has to work, she thought. It has to!
Regecon felt a shiver of fear as the first of his magic circles broke. He had known this creature was strong, but he had never imagined the truth. With the Ascerion Circles activated he could feel the immense power and strength they were trying to hold. He had the vague sensation of trying to stop a rolling boulder with a thin veil of cloth and shuddered at the disturbing image.
Nevertheless, his work would not stop. It could not! This creature had to be destroyed, utterly and completely. He would sacrifice himself and everyone in this chamber to achieve that end. Everything had a price, and he would pay this one, no matter how steep.
You cannot resist me, sorcerer. The vampire had not spoken, but his voice sounded loud and clear in the guild master’s head. As was the way of such magics, the incantations were drawing their souls into close proximity. Lucian was using his power to bridge the gap.
Regecon blocked the thoughts from his mind and gestured with his hand to bring the first binding sigil on the containment jar to life. It opened. Now, all they needed was the time.
The fifteenth circle fell.
Regecon cursed beneath his breath, then continued his chant. In the background, he could hear Ambrisia’s voice as it carried the delicate rhythm. When he closed his eyes he could feel her presence beside him, soft and comforting, like a summer’s breeze. A moment’s anguish reached inside his heart; nothing could be allowed to happen to her. Nothing! If Drasmyr so much as touched her ...
The fourteenth circle fell.
A hollow laughter echoed in the guild master’s head. Do you care for this woman, sorcerer? Shall I make an example of her to you? She is skilled, but not so much as you—the string of thoughts was interrupted by a grunt of pain as the second sigil on the containment jar sprung to light. Regecon almost smiled as he felt the vampire shudder. That one had cast an invisible net of energy to snare and entrap the vampire’s physical body. It was cleverly devised, too. Much to his surprise, Korina had set it up to work in conjunction with the circles on the floor. The vampire would not be able to sever it before dealing with all sixteen circles. By then it should be too late.
The vampire’s thoughts returned. You’re sorceress friend has left a hole in the structure of her shield. There was a sensation of sneering. Observe the effects.
Ambrisia cried out, and Regecon felt her presence waver. It steadied a moment, then seemed to vibrate from some internal struggle. Physically, he could hear the Mistress of the Earth gasping in pain, and desperately he longed to come to her aid, but deep inside he knew there was only one way he could help her. Another word, another sigil.
Suddenly, the presence in Regecon’s mind crumbled and Ambrisia screamed. Regecon sensed something else, too; a darker presence pouring forward to fill the void where she had been. With a sickening twist of his stomach, the guild master realized Ambrisia had not stopped screaming. The vampire was not content with severing her from the spell; he was torturing her.
Everything has a price. No! The mental shout echoed in Regecon’s head and with frantic desperation his fingers flickered through the gestures. I will not allow that. You will release her! If not by choice, then by force. Sigil four: the Destructor.
Traces of blue light flickered from the jar to the floor and danced along sigils throughout the room. With a blinding flash, four bolts of brilliant blue lightning erupted from opposite corners of the chamber. They struck the vampire full force in the chest and arms, lifting his body upward into the air. For a fleeting moment, he hung there bathed in the blue glow of electrical energies before suddenly rupturing into a cloud of smoke. The vampire’s physical scream ripping from his throat was abruptly cut off by his forced reversion into mist; it was quickly taken up on another level inside Regecon’s head. You! How dare you! I will rip out your entrails and feed that woman to my ravens for this.
Not before I send you to Hell.
A silent chuckle passed the emptiness between them. Your sorceress is fallen ... that leaves you and me.
The strength of the vampire crashed into Regecon like a tidal wave, swarming forward to pound on the shield that protected him. Drasmyr’s scream echoed in his head, and Regecon had to strain to block it out.
The next part of the spell was the hardest. Without Ambrisia to aid him, it would be even more so. After the Destructor sigil, the next three symbols all dealt with trapping and containing the vampire’s life force. As a result, the energies employed had to come in direct contact with the creature’s soul. Drasmy
r would be able to fight each sigil as it came into play; and there would be no sixteen circles to act as a buffer.
Regecon’s thoughts grew grim. So be it. With another gesture he began the final invocations. Almost immediately, Lucian’s presence reared up to block him. They locked together; iron will against iron will, sorcerer against immortal vampire. The screams of the vampire reverberated within Regecon’s mind and he could feel his sorcerer’s shield beginning to buckle and give. What little time he had was rapidly diminishing.
A flash of light flared as another of the circles splintered and broke. The whirling cloud of mist that was the vampire moved forward, drawing ever closer to Regecon.
Every word from Regecon’s lips came with effort and strain. Twice he had to go back and restart the invocation for the fifth sigil, and each time he did so the vampire broke another ring. There were only ten rings left separating his body from the billowing white cloud. He had his own personal ring as well, but that was already buckling before the vampire’s spiritual onslaught. If the vampire broke through all the remaining rings that contained him, his single protective circle would offer scant protection in a prolonged battle.
The fifth sigil flared to life and Regecon felt the sudden outpouring of energy. He sensed, rather than saw, the shackles that reached out to entangle the vampire’s soul. With hope returning, he began the incantation for the sixth sigil. There were only two sigils left to invoke and ten rings still standing. By his count, he was well ahead in the game.
There was a loud crack and a rush of blackness. Pain erupted throughout Regecon’s body and the vampire’s voice rose to an exultant shriek. Your shield is broken, sorcerer. Prepare to die! A thousand shards of piercing agony drove into Regecon’s mind, driving the wizard stumbling to his knees.
Gripping his skull, the guild master tried desperately to block out the pain. He saw them; all those people the vampire had killed, all the people he had failed: Aristoceles, the harmless philosopher and old friend; Durek, the student who’d met such a gruesome demise; Jacindra, another long-time friend; Toreg; the guardsmen; and the gods only knew how many others. All of these people had died fighting this beast, and here he was on the brink of victory about to give in.
He could not give in. Not now. Not ever. Everything has a price.
Regecon struggled to his feet gritting his teeth from the pain. Grimly, he raised his arms and began the sixth incantation.
Almost as if on cue, the circles began collapsing again. Ten. Nine. There was a shimmering of resistance. Then eight. He was running out of time. Seven.
Quivering from the tension coursing through his body, Regecon completed the final gesture and the sixth sigil flared to life. Lucian screamed with fury as another tentacle reached out to wrap about his being. Coil upon coil embraced him, entangled him, binding his spirit with ethereal magic. For a time, the creature writhed in the grip of sorcery and the six remaining circles held firm. Regecon wearily began the incantation for the final sigil as if moving through stone. The pain mounted.
Everything has a price. It must come to an end.
It is not enough, wizard. You’re moment has passed.
The sixth circle crumbled. Then, the next. A part of Regecon watched with a dispassionate eye the unfolding of events. His tortured body, literally vibrating from the pressures, went through motion after motion in agonizing slowness. As it did so, the last of the circles were falling. One by one. Four. Three. Two. A hiss escaped Regecon’s lips and his chest heaved. He could feel the blood pounding in his skull, the energies he channeled searing his soul, the vampire’s etheric touch stabbing into his mind ...
The final circle shattered. The final sigil flared.
Coragan staggered back as an explosion of energy ripped across the room. Raising his arm to shield his face, the bounty hunter watched as a whirlwind began to form. Flashing and crackling with brilliant blue energies, the vortex opened like a hungry maw. The vaporous cloud that had once been the vampire struggled within the remorseless grip; it hovered for a moment at the edge of the final broken ring, on the very brink of freedom; then it began to slip. Slowly, inexorably, the swirling cloud of mist was dragged backward across the room. As it went, somewhere inside him, Coragan had the vague sensation of someone screaming. Not in pain, or sadness, but in bitter frustration. In the center of the broken rings the cloud of mist found some reserve of strength and came to a sudden stop. For a long, agonizing moment, the cloud struggled to take shape. Glowing grey eyes sprang forth from a nebulous head, a thick vaporous arm reached out ... then the vortex flashed again and the cloud shattered and fell back. It started whirling as it moved, becoming more and more tenuous as it slipped toward the strange jewel-encrusted jar in the rear of the chamber. Perhaps it was just the roaring of the wind, or the crackling energies, but as the cloud slipped away Coragan thought he could discern a voice. It seemed to curse and swear in frustration and hate, but it was distant and vague, the words too faint to hear. Yes, they were definitely words, but they were coming from within the bounty hunter’s head, not from without. With each broken ring the cloud passed, it seemed to pick up more speed. At last, in a dazzling display of brilliant blue lights, mist and vortex disappeared inside the jar. A tiny, almost inaudible, click sounded and Coragan had the dim sensation that something had been sealed. Silence descended.
With a groan, Regecon tumbled forward to his hands and knees, coughing. Coragan rushed to his side. “Guild Master, hold on. Try to keep your strength up.” He tried to reach around the man to steady him.
Regecon opened his mouth to reply to the bounty hunter’s words, but was suddenly seized by another round of hacking. Concern filled the bounty hunter as blood spilled from the fire wizard’s mouth. He looked up once, fluttering his eyes. His brief words came in ragged gasps. “Everything ... has ... a ... price.” He collapsed then, in Coragan’s arms.
“No!” Ambrisia screamed as she half-ran, half staggered forward. The woman’s hair was a tangled mass, her face streaked with tears. She reached forward and gingerly took the fire mage from Coragan’s grip. With the softness of a caress, she gently wiped a lock of hair from across his face. “Regecon, you can’t ... die.” He groaned once, but his eyes did not open. Ambrisia’s voice rose to a shout. “Someone find a priest!”
Korina stepped up beside the trio, holding the jeweled containment jar in her hand. “We have the vampire, Mistress. Shall I see him to the river?”
Ambrisia nodded slowly, as if in a daze. “Take Methoin with you. Make sure it is completely submerged before you open it.”
“Methoin left to help the guards above, remember Mistress? The townspeople broke through the gate and were ravaging the upper levels. They needed someone to try and put out the fires.”
Ambrisia looked up, startled. Suddenly, her eyes refocused. “Yes. That is right. Coragan, if you and Galladrin would be so kind, please see that Korina gets to the river and releases the vampire within its depths.”
“As you wish, Councilwoman. Just let me check on Borak first. I need to make sure he is not too badly hurt.”
Ambrisia looked sharply at the man, then acquiesced. “Agreed. But do not dally long. All these sacrifices mean nothing if the vampire does not receive his due.”
Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin) Page 81