by Peter Dawes
Yes, they were dark magicians, but hardly the blurs of starved, time-ravaged creatures. I gritted my teeth, allowing focus to rise anew and my reflexes to serve me as they had each place I had been to both before and after the discovery of the first scroll. I caught one sneaking onto the platform and rid him of his head. He was not alone in his thinking, apparently, as more vampires gathered around the edge.
Not apt to let them form a plan of attack, I ran toward a less populated section and jumped down, landing amidst the stone benches that served as seats. I cut a bloody path through the antagonists there, dodging and interrupting the host of spells directed toward me. I threw one sorcerer into a grouping of his compatriots. Another came too close for comfort and burned when shot with a burst of energy. Spinning to face the next challenger, ready to strike, I jumped when the tip of a blade burst through their chest from behind.
As they turned to ash, Robin stood before me, sword clutched in hand. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find a weapon in this godforsaken place?” he asked.
Blinking twice, I succumbed to a smile and shook my head. “No, I have no notion, actually,” I said.
“Well, it’s bloody difficult.”
He mirrored my smile, but time afforded us no further chance to banter. Another onslaught of enemies crowded around us, forcing us to work in tandem as we had in Seattle. I pushed one to my brother while impaling another. Robin obliged them their death, followed by a handful of others while I helped cut through the fold in the direction of the platform once more. He bent to avoid a swipe from one foe and I timed a forward thrust well enough to penetrate his attacker’s chest. By the time we leaped back onto the platform, we had amassed piles of ash in our wake.
Monica, on the other hand, had busied herself with spellcasting. As we approached, I watched her tossing her assailants around, breaking their limbs and igniting them onto fire before launching them into a crowd of other vampires. Shoving Robin in her direction, I yelled for him to assist her, and not a moment too late. The ease which had settled around us threatened to lull me into relief.
As such, when I felt the first gusts of wind, I knew what had returned for me.
Turning, I saw her standing on the altar, eyes narrowed and intent on me while Monica and Robin continued dispatching the other immortals. A cloud of black smoke spiraled around her, drifting down her feet, onto the altar, and trickling onto the ground. My resolve shook for the briefest of seconds while she sneered at me. “Petty. Annoying. Seer,” she said, no pretense of friendliness – or even mocking – evident in her tone. Whatever my actions had evoked, I now beheld a being of power and realized for the first time what I had summoned.
I also realized she no longer intended to keep me as a trophy.
She held out both hands, palms facing up. “I am finished with you,” she continued. “You. Your witch. Your friend. Everything you hold dear. It will all perish in fire and agony with me leading our kind forward. You think you can massacre this entire room and leave me vulnerable?” Valeria smirked. “I am only getting started.”
I braced against the wind swirling around me. The cacophony it created bore enough threat that it stopped Robin and Monica. They turned to face me and I glanced at them. “Get out of here now.”
“Like hell,” Monica called back. “I’m not leaving you.” Narrowing her eyes at me, she only afforded me one last nod before going back to dispatching the oncoming horde. I frowned, a quick glance offered to Robin who nodded at me as if registering the implied request.
Valeria issued a sardonic chuckle, drawing my focus back to her. “Oh, please, let them run,” she said. “I like a good chase. It’ll make their capture that much sweeter.”
“Concern yourself with me first,” I responded. “You have not earned the spoils of your war.”
“You linger as though believing you had a defense.” The amulet on Valeria’s chest began to glow, the grin on her lips parting to expose more of her fangs again while more dark smoke spilled closer and closer to where I stood. I held my ground while she tilted her head. “I had a taste of you when I took our dark father’s power from your veins. Your energy will fill my body while I drain you into a shell of your former self. I will make you suffer and force you to watch their demise before I grant you yours.”
As the tendrils of her magic reached my feet, I felt it coil around my ankles and twist around my legs, securing me into place. “A dangerous prospect, keeping me alive,” I said. “I would sooner you kill me.”
My words cost me dearly. Her magic curled further upward still, wrapping around my waist and tightening the further it drifted. I felt an attempt to siphon my energy, darkness consuming shoulders and hands and forcing my sword from my grip. I groaned at the psychic vampirism, my eyes rolling back beyond my own volition; my head pounding and limbs turning weak. She was too far away for me to make an attempt to break her hold on me, but earlier events had taught me that she would have to lay hands to my body in order to complete the leaching spell. I did not intend to make it easy.
Pulling energy from the world around me bore more difficulty than it ever had, the sensation much more a slow draw than a torrent. As it built, though, the trickle carved a path through the resistance until it became a stream, and my vision gradually regained focus. Hints of bright light began flickering in the roiling storm cloud of dark magic surrounding me, something I noted in my periphery while looking to Robin and Monica.
The battle had paused in the interim, both sides staring at the events unfolding. Anticipation was rife, and I had no doubt the dark magicians believed the battle was about to be over. My watcher furrowed her brow, her eyes screaming concern and mine doing nothing to assuage her.
Movement at the altar demanded my attention. Valeria filled my sights, descending from the stone slab and closing the distance between us. A sober form of control overtook me. The stream was now rushing rapids and the flickers of light graduated to bolts of energy dancing around me. Hoping I had built enough power to turn the tide, I pushed against her, causing the dark vampiress to stop mere paces away from me.
Valeria summoned her own resolve, tightening the grip around me even further. My successful push, though, told me it was time to strike, so I offered the only warning I could, the word not intended for her.
“Run,” I said.
Robin wasted no time. Grabbing Monica’s arm, he pulled her closer to him, dropping the sword in his other hand in favor of hoisting her off her feet. She yelped with surprise at the affront, slung over his shoulder and forced to hold on tight while my brother ran for the other side of the vacated altar and forced the two of them down to the ground. In my last glimpse of them, I saw him shelter her body with his.
Valeria, however, seemed less than convinced. “Give in to the inevitable, Flynn,” she said, advancing another step and lifting her arms, preparing to complete the spell. “Your power is mine.”
“The name is Peter,” I said, straining to speak the words but determined, “And you have no claim on me.”
I envisioned the psychic binds around me as chains, and used my telekinesis to break them. The tendrils of smoke coiled around me slackened, falling away enough to free my hands, but that proved unnecessary for conducting the power I had accumulated. As soon as the smoke cleared from my torso, the energy that had been swirling around me coalesced onto my skin, the glow manifesting into a blinding brightness intense enough to make me squint. The world itself seemed to pause and this time, what surged through me bore no pain. When the tidal wave of power released, I did so not as the vanquisher of evil, nor the conflicted vampire. I did so as a man who had decided my own purpose, taking full ownership of my gifts toward that end. My thoughts were only of Monica, and when the light energy impacted Valeria it did so in a rather spectacular manner.
Her scream resonated in the room as her silhouette disappeared into the nova. My eyes were opened only to slits, barely able to see the effect, so the sudden release of her grip on me threw
me onto my back, causing my vision to swim for a moment while the burst finished burning out. Even after it faded, I remained free, and did not sense Valeria’s presence.
“I did it,” I murmured, staring at the ceiling.
Just as the thought passed through my mind, however, a tingle of warning shot up my spine. I glanced over, seeing my fallen sword and a few vampires who had been injured from the fallout of the psychic tsunami I had just produced. What proved to me much more harrowing of a sight, however, was the amount of ash kicked up into the air, suggesting I had done more than wound. Considering the quantity of it, I had probably slaughtered anything within several yards of me.
“Robin,” I said, my gaze shooting immediately over to the altar. Worry flashed through me, quickly laid to rest when he pulled himself to a stand. Monica rose to her feet slowly behind him, both of them regarding the carnage first before casting their sights in my direction.
“Brother, I sincerely hope we are still at a cease fire,” Robin said. “Or else, I might need to start running.”
“I have no intention of harming you.” With a groan, I managed to my feet, my gaze lifting higher in the stands to witness an exodus of vampires from the amphitheater. Their leader fallen and a rather fresh illustration of power from one of the beings they faced, apparently, was enough to convince them their time could be better spent. While I came to a full stand, my feet felt wobbly; my knees apt to give out if I moved too quickly. “Both of you get out of here. Now.”
“Oh hell no,” Monica said, echoing her earlier sentiment. “I’m not leaving without you.”
A soft smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Robin paced away from her to retrieve his sword while I contended with my stubborn watcher. “Go, beloved. I shall be right behind you, I promise.”
‘Please, beloved.’ I added in thought, not wishing to give away my intentions aloud. ‘We have waited this long, what is a few minutes longer? Leave with the crowd, and I shall follow. I wish to bury this place to ensure that no other will ever set their sights on it.’
“Fine,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. One escaped, forcing her to brush it away. “But if you’re not out of here in ten minutes, I’m coming back to drag your ass out.”
“Fair enough.” Looking at Robin, I nodded in appreciation as he moved toward her, more than grateful when Monica finally turned with him. They made it to the walkway before Monica forced them to stop so she could glance at me again. I maintained a reassuring grin to help her along. Her chest rose in a sigh, her eyes meeting Robin’s with her nodding as he extended a hand out to her. I felt relief wash over me the moment they fled up the stairs and disappeared from sight. None of the lingering dark magicians tried to stop them, though I had no doubt my brother and my love could have handled whatever resistance they might have met.
I was not keen on the idea of simply letting them go, however. “Now, as for the rest of you,” I said, evaluating where the majority of the dark magicians still alive were pouring out of the room. Crouching for my sword, I felt my body jerk, eyes widening as the involuntary convulsion spread from foot to head and back again. An invisible force forced me upright, lifting me off my feet and suspending me midair. As I searched for the source of the witchcraft, I found a figure stumbling toward me, horribly disfigured with hair singed and flesh seared in several places.
Her hands had been charred and blood seeped from her wounds, but still, she stood before me just the same. “Enough games,” she said, although her voice sounded gravelly, the damage I had inflicted upon her evident in her speech as well. While her mouth remained intact, it still bore singes which had blistered from the impact. I furrowed my brow as I watched the edges of her wounds patching themselves up – the effort slow, but noticeable. She grinned at what must have been a look of horror on my face, if her expression could be called a smile at all. “I will end this now.”
A squeezing sensation overwhelmed my throat, pulsing down to my chest while agony twisted through me. Valeria laughed, stepping closer and seeming to relish my alarm while I felt my ribs crack and splinter under her grip. The closer she came, the more pain she inflicted on me. It seemed that if she could not take my power, she would crush me into ash instead.
I had opened Pandora’s Box. The startling reality hit me, a moment of crystal clarity only imminent death could bring with it present as I struggled to figure out how the Fates could be so short sighted. Why would they have given me this mission and not given me all the tools to see it through? Another squeeze cracked more bone and I cried out, unable to do much else. For all the machinations of the universe, all it had left me was a fractured body and a bloody useless sword.
Valeria laughed in response to my wailing, but in doing so brought my attention back to her. The amulet around her neck glowed with the unholiest of auras, but seeing it brought the final piece of the puzzle into place. Suddenly, epiphany swept through me; I glanced back toward my sword and through the haze of agony, I managed one moment to relive a memory.
The swordmaker, the one who had crafted the katana I carried with me from rebirth to renewal. The weapon which had caught my eye mere weeks before my dreams resurfaced; before Lydia’s ghost haunted me anew; before Monica brought out my abilities. Before the seer emerged. He had looked me in the eye and rendered verdict on me.
“There are elements in this sword I haven’t used in any other. The Fates themselves... commissioned it. They gave me the instructions for it in a dream. I saw its owner as somebody with a different heart, a warrior with a different spirit.”
Instinct took over. I had run out of time for anything else.
Using telekinesis, I reached for my sword and caught it in my hand. Valeria took one step closer and stopped, but that final pace had damned us both.
Both hands wrapped around the hilt. I thrust the blade forward, aiming for the gemstone hanging from her neck, believing beyond hope that what I imagined just might work. I recalled the shower of sparks when the blade had raked across it. I recalled the pain it had inflicted on the dark witch.
When the tip of the blade created a crack in the amulet, it only spurred me further onward. She fought against the push, but some form of resistance held her in place as though the weapon and the gemstone themselves were vying against each other. I thrust harder, challenging it, and glanced from the amulet to the eyes of my antagonist. We both had been locked into place, time slowed so that we both might take in the severity of what was about to happen.
“Let us cancel each other’s debts,” I muttered, not relenting.
The large gem broke in half, its pieces falling to the ground while my blade sank into Valeria’s chest, sliding past the remnant of the jewel’s housing, and penetrated her heart. Her eyes widened, but in them I saw a truth I could not deny no matter how much I wanted to. Whether or not she feared the death I had just given her, her final act was not to swear at me or spit in my face. She glanced down toward the shattered pieces and gasped.
Then, her form turned to ash and descended toward them.
A violent shiver overcame me. Falling to the ground, I landed on my side, aware of the world suddenly when her dust blew upward, violently kicked around by the splintered amulet and scattered to the four winds. Dark smoke poured out of it, crawling across my hand and seeping up my arm, but even I could not fight its unadulterated state. It overcame me too swiftly. Jolts of energy rocketed from the broken pieces, flying one way and the next and impacting everything within the amphitheater’s proximity. The shrill chorus of vampires dying filled the air while I felt my own voice join in its discordant melody. Vampire I had become. Vampire I had been turned by my maker.
And as a vampire, I would perish with the others.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Darkness surrounded me on all sides, without end and without form. It called to mind the white room where I had met with Lydia, only far less comforting; much more final in appearance – something I could not dispute even with the first thoughts I managed on
the other side of the veil. Sprawled out on the ground, in the same posture I had been in when obliterated by the amulet, I frowned and came to my feet within the void.
Alone and left destitute, I wondered if I truly had rapped on the gates of hell.
“Hello?” I said, not quite willing to surrender to that thought yet. My eyes shifted from one direction to the next, the lack of an echo only making the words I produced that much more unnerving. I spun around and issued the question, “Is anybody here?” asking it louder and frowning when I failed to hear a response. What was I expected to do? I attempted to walk forward, but the act bore an undertone of futility to it. Where could one walk to when they had been knocked into the abyss itself.
I issued a shaky breath and finally, the frightening reality of what had probably transpired impacted me. At best, I could have hoped the spell knocked me into another plane of existence, but the fact remained that the others touched by it had all seemed to perish and I should expect no better. Still, it lacked finality. If I had finally met my end, I expected that I would finally face judgment and pray I had balanced the scales enough in my favor.
“Ah, but have I done enough?” I mused aloud.
“Has anyone ever, really?” a woman asked, her voice instantly recognizable. Turning, I could not help but to smile when I took in the sight of Lydia; her hair pulled up, she wore a white dress and shimmered like an angel as she closed the distance between us. Pausing mere feet away, she chuckled, genuine adoration in her eyes I could not help but to feel soothed by. “It hasn’t been that long since we’ve seen each other, but I’ll bet it feels like forever.”
“At least two lifetimes, if not more.” My smile turned melancholy, something stopping me from rushing to greet her the same way I had on the cusp of death. We had transcended such gestures now, for more reasons than one. “I hesitate to count the days,” I said. “Knowing how short the time truly has been might only serve to shock me.”