by John Mangold
The momentum in the vehicle spent, Torrez and Maluem pushed the B.B. into the long shadow of a particularly tall building. Moving carefully through the streets to avoid the illumination of overhead Rune-Lamps, the pair approached what looked to be the center of the town. In a short time, they reached what had to be their goal.
The Police Station had a commanding view of a three-block radius, obviously well placed for its purpose. However, based on the imposing nature of the structure, the excessive use of steel in the joints, the highly angled walls, the rings of Run-Lanterns illuminating its perimeter, it seemed far more suited to a military role, or so Torrez remarked as they observed. They had approached quite closely without detection, but it was improbable they would get much closer without drawing attention.
The heavy rain increased its intensity tenfold as they squatted in the shadows outside the Jail’s illuminating lanterns. The streets around them flooded with water as the drainage gutters were overwhelmed by the sudden deluge. Yet, this was not the only system that was having difficulty dealing with the shifting weather. Several Rune Lanterns in the Jail’s security ring began to flicker sporadically as the force of the storm increased.
“Is this your handiwork?” Torrez whispered to Maluem as he motioned to the rain falling around them.
Maluem shook her head.
“Weather control has never been my forte. This tempest appears to be an act of good fortune.”
“Good fortune is right,” Torrez replied. “It looks like someone has been neglecting the moisture barriers on those lanterns. Probably running them on an electric circuit, using the runes as a backup. That’s a good system if you keep the runes clean. But let those seals go, corrosion starts building on the internals, fouling the castings, and sooner or later, out go the lights.”
Almost upon his final word, the lights illuminating a wedge-shaped area on the east side of the building flicked out, refusing to relight.
The pair got up as one, working their way around the square to reach the now darkened approach. With a bit of planning, they were able to use the outlying shadows to their best potential, making sure their movements would be covered. However, Maluem’s real attention was on the building itself. Any flicker of light, any sudden movement, would signal their discovery, demanding an immediate retreat.
However, as they completed their maneuver, the building remained as still as it had before. The only oddity was what seemed to be music filtering from within the small prison’s walls, but Maluem dismissed this notion as the product of an overstrained imagination.
Taking a moment to ensure they had not been observed, Maluem and Torrez once more stood as one to move down the darkened corridor in the jail’s defenses. They barely made it a quarter of the way, however, before the extinguished lights suddenly roared back to life, revealing a throng of bodies standing squarely in their path.
A full host of nine beings stood before them, looking as though they were corpses dragged from a nearby river. Their clothes were shabby and torn, their skin pale as freshly burned ash, their eyes devoid of anything approaching the light of a human spirit. Despite the raging storm about them, they made no move to protect themselves from the wrath from above, standing, slump-shouldered in the soaking rain, as unfeeling as the pavement below their feet.
To their fore stood a single woman who contrasted the group’s appearance starkly. Her clothes were of exceptional make, marred only by small rips where patches of rank and office had once been sewn. Her skin shone with the healthy glow of a well-fed woman, her auburn hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, and her bright green eyes dancing with an intense fury. Those eyes were now locked solely on Maluem’s face to the exclusion of all else. As the light of recognition filled Maluem’s mind, a cruel grin twisted the woman’s face into a sneer.
“Hello, Delilah,” Maluem stated. “It seems you have made some new friends.”
“Maluem,” Delilah replied, her grin growing into a very eager smile. “How long I have envisioned this moment. It is wondrous to find you at last. You must excuse my Acolytes. They may not look like much, but they hold within them such wondrous potential.”
As Delilah spoke, the water pooling around them began to inexplicably turn to steam. The vapor’s ascending course was quickly diverted, flowing in tendrils into the hands of the woman before them. Maluem could not be sure what she was witnessing, but instinct fed her all the warnings required. In response, the air temperature around Maluem dropped drastically, causing some of the closest puddles to grow frost around their borders.
“Acolytes, you say,” Maluem replied. “That is an interesting pronunciation of thralls, but why quibble over details. You have learned a great deal in your short time outside the Archives! A little too much for one as sheltered from the cruel world as you. Did you find some willing Lich to teach you a few of its parlor tricks? A few lessons in acquire slaves, perhaps?”
Delilah’s hands balled into fists, taking on a pale glow as they did so.
“Let’s just say I ran into an acquaintance of yours, one who nearly took something quite precious to you. Speaking of which, how is our dear Volo, Maluem? Don’t tell me you went and got the poor farm-kulk killed.”
This nearly broke Maluem’s calm. Delilah did not know Volo well enough to speak of him in those terms. How dare the tart speak of Volo at all! Maluem could feel her blood begin to boil in her veins. The temperature dropped lower still as she pressed her hands flat at her sides, mentally preparing an attack spell. Delilah was not the only one who could pull energy from the pooling water. Maluem opened her mouth to speak, but a voice to her right broke her concentration.
“That is awfully familiar for a woman I met only once, and briefly at that,” Volo replied. “Still, you should choose your insults better. For all your refinement, you have the foul mouth of a gutter tramp. Perhaps your new tutor was not so much a Lich as a magically inclined harlot.”
Maluem risked a quick glance to her right to confirm what her ears told her. Standing beside her was Volo, looking every bit as he had the day he died. A further glance showed the collar hanging on her belt was indeed emitting a steady blue glow. She could feel hope blossom within her as she turned back to confront Delilah.
“Enough banter,” Maluem announced. “You and your companions stand in our way, Delilah. I suggest you find somewhere else to be before we remove your sickening presence from the face of Azbel.”
Rage twisted Delilah’s features into a death mask as her hands shot up. The ground between Maluem and her adversary disintegrated as the spell exploded in a straight line towards her. Maluem’s hands flew up in response, throwing up a defensive wall that deflected the force of the spell, its effects veering harshly to Maluem’s left, directly where Volo stood. The frozen hand of fear gripped Maluem’s stomach as she realized what she had just done. In defending herself, she might have insured Volo’s death. However, when the dust cleared, Volo stood amid the destruction, completely unscathed. It seemed being a mere projection had its advantages.
Using Delilah’s momentary distraction at Volo’s immunity, Maluem launched a counter strike. Spreading her palms out flat before her, Maluem thrust them at Delilah, generating a massive force wall that raced towards its target. The effect hurtled towards Delilah with incredible velocity, giving the woman no hope of escaping its fury.
However, Delilah countered just before impact, pushing her fist straight back at Maluem, enacting a piercing projectile that drove a hole through the center of Maluem’s assault, shattering its center. This spared Delilah, but her followers were not quite so fortunate. The front row was picked up off their feet, slamming them into those directly behind them.
Half the group had been reduced to a sprawling mass on the ground at Delilah’s feet. However, without groan or complaint, the shambling wrecks regained their feet. As they moved, it was clear some had broken bones, as well as dislocated joints, yet despite these grievous injuries, they reformed their formation behind Delilah. Whate
ver witchcraft Delilah had worked on them, the cares of mortals were now beyond their concern.
Now it was Delilah’s turn to take advantage of Maluem’s distraction. With a flick of her wrist, the vapors flowing past Maluem coagulated into a solid form, wrapping around her neck with horrific force. Maluem quickly found herself overcome. With the air suddenly shut off from her lungs, she perceived the world around her fading to black. She barely felt her knees hit the pavement, the bones in her neck creaking ominously as enormous pressures threatened to reduce them to powder. With a drastic swing of her arm, Maluem released her Elemental Spike. The drain from the spell was crippling yet successful as the pressure on her throat immediately evaporated, the strangling mass returning to its gaseous form.
Looking up through bleary eyes, Maluem could see the effects of her blindly cast spell. A stone edifice now stood where Delilah had once been as Maluem intended. However, her aim had been compromised by Delilah’s choking attack. Instead of skewering her opponent, Maluem had simply lifted her from the ground, tossing her a short distance away. As Maluem struggled to collect her energy, she could see Delilah regaining her feet. She looked to have gained a few scrapes from her flight but appeared otherwise uninjured.
Through hacking gasps, Maluem shouted to Torrez.
“The buggy, get to the buggy!”
Maluem had no time to see if he had complied with her command as Delilah was already turning to deliver another assault. She did not notice the pause in the monsoon or that her opponent had absorbed every nearby puddle. All Maluem could see was her adversary moving in slow motion as her hands motioned to let loose a devastating strike. Once more, the earth around Maluem erupted, but this time with long, black vines. Their snakelike forms slid up through the broken ground, wrapping their slimy lengths around Maluem’s legs and arms.
With demonic intentions, tiny tentacles writhed through her clothes, finding bare skin to pierce into the veins below. Agonizing pain-filled Maluem as the horrid vines siphoned her life’s blood, delivering the energy to their master. Maluem pooled her power from the air around as quickly as her pain-wracked mind would allow her, but she knew that her blood would run out long before she could muster an attack. As her life’s energy ebbed yet lower, death seemed inevitable.
With sudden ferocity, liquid fire swept across Delilah, soaking her clothes and igniting them in a white-hot inferno. As Delilah let out a blood-curdling scream, Maluem felt the Blood Vines turn to dust. Maluem struggled to her feet as Volo, projecting himself once more as a fire elemental, stepped in-between her and Delilah. Through his translucent body, Maluem could see Delilah’s arms outstretched towards her zombie-like minions. As she did so, the flames engulfing her body suddenly quenched, as though snuffed by an immense hand. Simultaneously, two of her minions’ decrepit frames collapsed in upon themselves, their internal moisture drawn to their master. Their freeze-dried husks crumpled lifelessly to the ground as, still smoldering, Delilah turned to face her opponents, the fury in her green eyes burning ever brighter.
“Maluem,” Volo called to her. “Can you manage a force blast?”
Maluem only nodded, lacking the energy to speak.
With a pop, a plasma ball snapped into existence in front of Maluem. Not needing any explanation, Maluem dealt the ball a precise force strike sending it hurtling at Delilah. It was a perfectly aimed attack, sure to finish the fight if it connected. However, just as the plasma ball was about to impact the woman full in the chest, Delilah swung her arms, throwing up a deflection spell.
To Maluem, the next pulses seemed to drag out to minutes as she perceived separate events occurring at once to horrific results. The plasma ball bounced off Delilah’s field, redirecting its path towards the building beyond. Simultaneously, the Jail door swung open, revealing two forms silhouetted by the light spilling out from within. Maluem had only a fleeting moment to recognize the shapes as those of Nia and Shelia before the errant plasma ball struck the opened door, exploding on impact. As time seemed to regain its normal flow, the ruined portal was filled with smoke and debris, betraying no sign of either woman.
Maluem reacted with rage fueled ferocity, modifying her elemental spell as she cast it. The result was a mass of earth and stone formed into a colossal hand, grasping Delilah and slamming her against the Jail wall with bone-shattering force. Volo followed Maluem’s attack with a spout of flame, engulfing Delilah’s pinned body in a pale blue inferno. Through the rush of the mystic flames, Maluem could hear Delilah scream out in pain and surprise, yet only for a moment before the outburst was suddenly cut off. For a fleeting pulse, Maluem thought the skrite might actually be dead, but something told her Delilah would not perish so quickly.
Maluem turned to look for Volo, finding him standing off to her right. In the instant that she glanced towards him, she could see his form flicker out for a pulse. He was running out of energy, as was she. They could not sustain the attack. If they did not incapacitate Delilah quickly, they were both in serious trouble.
Collapsing to one knee, Maluem turned her attention to Delilah’s remaining followers. As she watched, four of them turned suddenly to dry husks, collapsing to the ground. Turning back, she could dimly perceive her elemental fist shattering as Delilah destroyed its grasp. Through the ensuing dust, she could also determine that Volo’s flames were no longer reaching their target.
“Release your spell, Volo! She is blocking it!” Maluem yelled as she tried in vain to regain her feet.
Maluem found her words to be unnecessary as Volo’s spell collapsed at that same instant. She could see straight through Volo’s form now. He would be gone in a few pulses. She struggled to regain some amount of power, but that last spell had truly drained her. The minute amount she could draw from the air around her was barely enough to erect a decent defense, let alone mount any form of attack. Turning back to Delilah, she could see the woman striding towards her, her clawed fingers flowing through the final movements of a finishing assault.
How can she be doing this? Maluem questioned herself fruitlessly. Delilah could not possess the experience to cast such spells! How could she gain such power so quickly?
There were no answers to her questions, no hope to stop the inevitable. Maluem had no choice but to watch, a mere spectator, as her green-eyed executioner prepared her doom. Yet even in that moment of imminent death, Maluem could not help but notice an odd change in her former friend.
“When did Delilah’s eyes turn from hazel to green?”
Before Delilah could complete the spell, something struck from above, catching the woman entirely off guard. The force of the blow knocked her sprawling to the ground, her body landing in a jumbled heap some three feet from where she once stood. Maluem had scant pulses to marvel at this turn of events before a combination of squealing and mechanical thunder brought her head around.
Into the square, the B.B. came barreling with Torrez at the wheel. With what little energy she had, Maluem gestured towards the gaping hole where the jail’s doors now lay in ruins. If their friends still lived, Torrez had to collect them first. He obviously understood her flailing, for the vehicle quickly veered to hurtle towards the building.
Turning her attention to Delilah, she saw the woman was once again on her feet and looking in Maluem’s direction but focusing on something behind her. With insane speed, an enormous mass knocked Maluem aside as it passed. Its form seemed to be vaguely humanoid, but with massive machinery bonded across its metallic flesh. Its movements were a blur, yet one detail stood out from all else as it passed. Its eyes were completely blindfolded.
Delilah threw out an explosive attack at the approaching monstrosity, but her spell’s power had no effect on her target as the machine-man fell upon her with the force of an avalanche. Whatever that thing was, it obviously had horrid intentions in store for its victim, and Maluem could muster no mercy for Delilah.
Regaining her feet, Maluem turned her attention first to Volo, then Torrez. Volo had reverted to his human fo
rm, appearing worn to the point of near collapse. On the other hand, Torrez had one inanimate body piled into the B.B. and was assisting a second into the passenger seat. Maluem staggered towards the vehicle, hoping to save Torrez the effort of retrieving her and make their escape that much faster.
As she turned to glance at what was becoming of Delilah, she could see the monster had her pinned with one massively spiked fist. Delilah grasped hold of the beast’s arm in apparent desperation, her comparatively fragile body seeming ill-equipped to defy the brute’s indomitable strength. Yet, as her relatively delicate fingers coiled around his massive muscles, the immense fiend let out a terrifying howl of intense agony, forcing Maluem to cover her ears.
Metal machinery slowly began to slough off the massive beast’s body, as though she was reverting him to a previous form. As his head turned to face Maluem, its tortured features took on an expression that, for a pulse, struck a knot inside her mind. Maluem had seen that face before and hated it thoroughly, but how and where?
She had no time to ponder this as Delilah was struck once more from above. This time Maluem could make out a winged form, bearing a Wyvern's silhouette, yet covered in fur, with talon tipped arms and legs. The attack knocked Delilah free from the metal beast’s grasp, slinging her some twenty yards away. The enormous mechanical monstrosity collapsed, its body re-absorbing some of its fallen parts. As Maluem stood dumbfounded by the spectacle, she heard a distant voice call to her. Shaking herself from her stupor, she found Torrez sitting in front of her in the buggy.
“Get in!” Torrez screamed.
With painful effort Maluem, slung herself into the back of the vehicle, landing on something soft, warm, and wet. Lifting her hand up into the light, Maluem found to her horror that it was now covered in fresh blood. Shifting her body, she turned to discover Shelia lying next to her, unconscious and drenched in the very stuff coating Maluem’s hand. This gruesome sight forced the recent past to the fore of Maluem’s mind. The fireball, the explosion, what had she done?