Necrophobia

by Devaney, Mark

  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.

  The ritual came to a close and the li
ght in the centre of the room exploded. Charged air and heat rushed outwards in all directions and bathed them in a radiant glow. Reiner closed his eyes and shielded himself expecting the worst. He hesitated for several seconds expecting blood and viscera to fly at them before risking opening his eyes. Slowly and with the hesitation of someone opening their eyes after a long nights sleep he looked at the commander. Amelia floated in the air crackling with energy and descended towards the floor. Her movements slow and controlled. Light spilt out of her and her flawless skin pulsed with pure white light. She landed upon the ground without a noise and air circled around the commander causing her hair and cape to flicker in the wind. Reiner caught the brief impression of wings formed from lightning and electrical discharge behind her back that dissipated as she landed. Amelia opened her eyes and bright-white light poured out from within her as she looked between the faithful in front of her. Reiner could feel the power radiating from her, the purity of purpose. It was an alien and humbling experience. When she looked at him, or through him he saw no sense of familiarity or recognition. Amelia wasn’t in the shell looking at him she was gone and a god looked out through her eyes. He hoped it was temporary but he had no way to know. There hadn’t been an Avatar of Caelus in decades. The Amelia-Avatar tilted her head as it surveyed him. She never blinked or breathed, the avatar was completely immobile. The calm before the storm. Reiner clutched his side as the avatar’s power filled him, burning away the wound inside him. He took his arm away and watched the burns heal before his eyes and felt the stab wound fade. Wordlessly the avatar turned its intense gaze away and judged the rest of the Caelites.

  “Come.” It spoke through Amelia. The voice echoed inside her as though she was hollow creating a strange double voice yet it was still distinctly her voice. Echoed and reverberated. The effect was eerie and made Reiner’s flesh crawl. He’d expected a deep booming voice of a god but somehow this was worse and yet in some indescribable way comforting. The Avatar glided out of the room without a sound. The honour guard following her instinctively, a dazed expression on their face. Reiner feeling renewed grabbed his own spear and hurried after the divine procession, his brother trailing behind him at a loss for words.

  Claire crept along the silent corridors of the second floor. Battles raged in the distance and Valdgeirr was nowhere to be seen. But she could feel it smashing apart the mansion. She prayed Adrian and Hayley were still alive. She stepped over the body of a servant with care. The servant’s throat was a bloody mess and she lay face down on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Like the other unarmed bodies she’d passed their death was brutal and efficient. As she turned a corner in the L-shaped hall she saw the damaged roof. Rainwater dripped in soaking into the carpet from holes torn into the ceiling and the wind whistled down the corridor. The curtains lining the outer side of the corridor rustled in the racing winds. The movement was distracting and kept catching her peripheral vision. She sighed, it made a nice change from the limited field of view offered by the draconic Night Guard helmets. Claire paused and stared at the ruined holes in the ceiling, rainwater seeped in and dripped down the walls and pooled around the carpets. A faint mist circled the broken tiling and crept along the corridor driven by the storm. It was difficult to tell how far she was from where she’d sighted Haures; it had taken a while to find a stairwell to the second floor that wasn’t collapsed or smouldering. The hunter pushed on trying to use landmarks in the garden outside as a frame of reference. The mansion itself was gigantic with hundreds of rooms and seemingly endless corridors and connecting halls — it was no simple task.

  A flush of cold air behind her was all the warning she had before long filthy fingers wrapped themselves around her throat and dragged her backwards. She struggled as hard as she could to little effect, the grip around her throat was too tight.

  “There’s something familiar about you.” A woman’s voice breathed down her ear and the icy breath lingered on her neck. Morana.

  “You…” Claire gasped as the fingers relaxed momentarily to allow her to speak. Her heart almost leapt into her throat. The vampires grubby clawlike hands slid around her throat feeling her pulse quicken.

  “Ah…” Morana’s fingers lifted her chin upwards with the sharp jab of a nail. “Be still.” The voice was alluring and commanded her to be still. Claire shivered as she remembered the effects of Morana’s compulsion the previous night. “Let’s have a look at you.” Morana removed her hand and circled her without a sound. Claire soon realised she wasn’t compelled — Adrian’s pendant burned cold against her chest shielding her from the psychic compulsion. Morana tilted her head listening to the change in heartbeat of her prey with a cruel smile. Claire could move. She wasn’t compelled but she stood no chance of landing a hit on the superhuman predator. Her bow would be useless in close quarters, instead she used one of the oldest tricks she knew. Claire decided to play up the helpless victim. She remained still as requested and contemplated her next move. Any stakes of vials of holy water she had were long gone — torn off during the skirmish in the entrance hall. The rapier wasn’t silver and was useless inside its sheathe anyway. Same for her hunting knife.

  “Yes. That scent…that voice.” Morana crept closer and sniffed her. “The warehouse.” The vampire continued to circle her paralysed prey stroking Claire with a blood-stained clawlike finger. “You even look familiar.”

  Claire felt her own heartbeat quicken yet again. She’d been wearing a helmet last time she encountered the vampire doctor.

  “What do you want?” Claire asked gritting her teeth and keeping as still as she could manage. She allowed her eyes to dart across the vampire and her wretched hands. The longer she watched Morana the more spiderlike the woman became creeping in an unnerving and inhuman way. Her glasses reflected light from the fires outside as she passed by giving her the appearance of more than two eyes.

  “That is the question.” Morana moved in again and Claire felt the icy cold touch of her breath on her exposed neck. “To feed? Or to turn you as well? I wonder.”

  Claire said nothing and tensed as the horrid woman withdrew a short distance and sized her up.

  “Who knows you might enjoy it as well.” Morana attempted a seductive teasing voice completely at odds with her mad stilted way of moving and talking. The vampire curse for all its famed ability to create graceful and alluring predators could only do so much for Morana. Claire shivered as Morana’s eyes searched her face and fixed upon the head wound she sustained. The drying blood still fresh on her face. The vampire’s pupils dilated as she stared.

  “Where is Haures?” Claire asked hoping to stall for more time. She glanced at the rainwater seeping in through the damaged roof. Perhaps she could catch the vampire by surprise and shove her into the rain. It burned her before perhaps she could create enough time to draw her weapon. What weapon? None of my weapons work against vampires. The best she could hope for was to burn her with water and seek cover in the rain outside. Jumping from a second floor building was preferable to anything Morana had planned.

  “Around here somewhere.” Morana’s unblinking eyes never left the blood on Claire’s face. “I shouldn’t worry about him if I were you.”

  Something in the corridor behind her flickered and moved. The mist seeping in through the roof thickened and congealed behind Morana. It began to form into the shape of a woman. Morana turned her gaze towards Claire’s chest hearing the change in her heart. Her smile grew wider upon seeing her threats were working. Or so she thought. Claire risked a glance over the vampire’s shoulder at the swirling mist behind her. A figure condescended and emerged in the vapour. Veronica.

  Without a word a gloved hand tore through Morana’s chest from behind ripping straight through the dull-grey lab coat Morana wore. Morana screeched in shock and stared in disbelief at the arm poking out of her chest. The wound was oddly bloodless as the hand retracted leaving a see-through hole in the vampire doctor’s chest.

  “Veron…ica…” Morana breathed
in fury the gaping wound already healing. Veronica responded by kicking the woman’s legs out from under her and slashing a silver-knife across the vampires throat. The wound burned and fizzled as it tore apart her throat as the knife ripped free. Morana sagged tearing herself free from Veronica’s grip and exploded into mist just as before. Veronica slashed at the mist with her knife, her movements were a blur, an afterimage as she tried to carve the mist into pieces. The mist collected itself and rushed across the hall solidifying into Morana again who rose up from a crawl as she resumed human form.