The Holtur Curse (The Holtur Trilogy Book 2)

by Cameron Wayne Smith

  Chapter 22: Energised

  Sonja opened her eyes. She hadn’t closed them for long; they shut instinctively when she saw the burning ceiling coming down on her. The weight of the roof was immense, she could feel it, but it didn’t hurt. In fact, Sonja felt good, really good.

  She flung her arms out—throwing a chunk of roof from her chest—noticing the armour was emanating a blindingly white light. She understood the sorbguamis powered up from the wyvern’s fire before, but she had no idea her brother would be capable of harnessing all that potential. Did Rigst’s gem have something to do with it? With little effort she exploded from the rubble.

  “Raithia?” she asked the large wyvern.

  Raithia was lying on the ground, exhausted from all the energy she had just spent. She huffed a bit of smoke to acknowledge Sonja.

  “Which way did he go?” Sonja asked.

  Raithia lifted her head, pointing her nose to the north with a groan. The sky was now free of clouds and illuminated a pair of deceased juvies—cooked by Crispin no doubt—that the larger wyvern was nuzzling.

  Sonja bowed her head, saddened at the sight; this bastard will pay! “Come, we’ll avenge your young!”

  Raithia simply released another puff of smoke, then nestled her snout back by her young.

  “North then,” Sonja said, then dashed off.

  The energy offered by the armour was like nothing she had ever experienced. Sonja was in no way small or weak, but—powered up by fire—this suit of armour made her feel ten times as strong and half the weight of her normal self. She leapt into the air to test how much this armour truly did increase her strength. Astonishingly, she leapt at least three stories high! She hit the ground with a hard thud and heard the armour crack somewhere along the leg.

  “Alright, it’s made me strong, but the armour is already weakened from the fight at Aepherius,” she said to herself. She glanced down, noticing there was no visible break in the armour, best not to push it that far. “I need to be careful.” Sonja began to run faster towards the north gate. “Crispin!” she screamed at the moon. “Wherever you are, I am going to get you!”

  In the sky, a shadowy wisp glowed orange for a moment, turned humanoid, then fell towards the ground. It was Crispin; he may be a vampire, but he was severely wounded. He couldn’t hold his shadow form. She raced towards the falling corpse. It steadied its descent before impact, becoming a shadow-thing that twirled around, then resumed its humanoid appearance before her.

  “Sonja, I said I would let you go. I said I’d let you live,” Crispin said. “You have defeated the Brothers of Eternity. Our conflict is over.”

  “Our conflict is not over!” Sonja yelled weakly. She meant to roar with fury, but suddenly she felt drained and lethargic. She looked down to her hands, the armour was black with only the faintest hue of red.

  “Oh, I’m afraid it is,” Crispin said. He staggered, nursing his left arm—the gold etching on his armour had turned black, scorched in his battle with Raithia. The entirety of his pretty, crimson armour was now covered in black stains. “Unless you want to die?”

  “You’re wounded,” Sonja said.

  “I’ll admit, that blasted wyvern heated me up a little more than I would have liked.”

  “You have to pay for all the lives you took,” Sonja said. She surged ahead with all she had, but even her claymore felt like it weighed a tonne right now.

  “You’re wounded too. It seems that Caede had almost drained you.” Crispin smirked. He placed his right arm out before him, palm facing Sonja. “Too bad.” Fire began rolling around his arm, then shot towards Sonja.

  “No!” A shadow-thing barged into Crispin, transforming back into its humanoid form. Blonde hair hovered in place as the attacker struck again. It was Savra.

  “I can handle the bastard!” Sonja yelled. She wanted—she needed—another blast of fire from Crispin to energise her sorbguamis armour.

  Crispin swore an incomprehensible collection of words, then fixed his gaze upon the vampire that struck him. He launched a spray of flame at Savra, forcing her to merge with the shadows and retreat.

  “You can handle me, Sonja?” Crispin asked. He then scattered pellets of flame around his feet, the fire sprung back up and expanded, forming a blazing shield that rotated around the man. “You think your bug-suit and slow, heavy blade stands a chance against my regal, Altkrugan armour.” He stepped forward and unsheathed his own sword: a long, thin blade of silver. “I am forged of flames. The blood of Altkruga flows through me.” The fiery shield flared up. “My blessing from Aesterus is too much for you.” He smiled broadly, offering a good view of his newly acquired fangs. “As is my blessing from Tethaya, given to me by your friend, Rigst.”

  Sonja stood firm as the man walked towards her, trying to intimidate her. “One way to find out, arsehole!”

  “Caede was definitely right,” Crispin said.

  “Yeah?”

  “You are a feisty one.”

  Crispin punched his right hand into the air, launching a flaming fist that grew larger as it soared towards Sonja. By the time it was in front of her, it was like a wall of fire. She twisted her body, doing her best to direct the cracked leg piece away from the fire—she wasn’t sure if it would split from the heat, but wouldn’t risk a charred leg. The force of the strike knocked her to the ground.

  “Tell me, Crispin,” Sonja asked. “Do you like me feisty?”

  Sonja felt the sorbguamis armour surge with energy and leapt to her feet. Power raged through her; leaping up took no effort. Cutting at the air with her claymore—carelessly and single handedly—she charged at Crispin. The armour was an orange-red colour, meaning it could still be powered up further.

  “Stay back!” Crispin threatened. “I’ll finish you!”

  “No you won’t!” Sonja swiped with her claymore, but the bastard reverted to a shadow-thing and dodged the attack. “You can’t remain a shadow for long!”

  Crispin’s flaming shield wrapped around his ethereal-like form as he drifted away. He didn’t manage to hold the form long before flickering back into a man. “You can’t stop me!” he cried. “Not when I’m this close to the throne!” Fire plumed from his right arm and into Sonja again. He watched in horror as Sonja raced after him, increasing her speed as the armour’s orange colour brightened to white. Then it dawned on him. “My fire… You’re using it! How? You have no blessing!”

  “Welcome to Holtur, Crispin Turice,” Sonja said menacingly. “The gods had forsaken us long ago.” She raised her claymore. “We create our own blessings here.”

  The sneaky man melted into the shadows once more. He took to the sky, his fire shield dissipating from existence as he blended with the stars.

  “Sonja!” Before her, a shadow morphed into Savra. The vampire woman ran along beside her. “I can sense him, I can take him down. Your assistance will be required.”

  “Whatever you need,” Sonja said as she ran, now following the vampire’s lead.

  “His flames will obliterate me,” Savra said. “Be my shield!”

  “Gladly!” Sonja nodded. The sorbguamis armour had lost its brightness and was turning orange. She needed more firepower, and there was no way Crispin was going to give it up willingly. “The more fire the better!”

  “Good!” Savra said, changing form and rushing through the air.

  Sonja couldn’t see either of them now. Despite the bright moon, it was difficult to focus on a pair of shadows drifting through the dark sky. She just kept running north along the road, hoping it was in the right direction.

  “Sonja!” Savra cried.

  To her left, Sonja saw two vampires—now in human form—falling through the sky. Flames erupted as they disappeared back into the darkness. Flames that were spiraling overhead. She leapt into the sky—high—feeling a surge of power as she collided with the balls of flame.

  “Thank you!” both shadows echoed.

  Sonja hit the ground with a thud. Fortunately, without hearing a
crack. She looked into the sky, trying to find Crispin. “Ground yourself! You’re not scared of a girl, are you?” The taunt failed to get a response. “Come on Crispin!”

  Another series of flaming projectiles blasted from a nearby rooftop. Sonja raced in that direction, then sensed Savra’s smoky form, fleeing from the projectiles, travel around her. The sorbguamis armour absorbed the fire, and it turned white hot again.

  Fire was being thrown in all directions from the rooftop. Sonja witnessed multiple shadowy creatures catching alight, returning to their human form, then turning to ash before sprinkling across the cobbles. The House Aepherius Moonwatch were here to defend Holtur, and their numbers were dropping by the moment.

  Sonja charged towards the building that Crispin was launching the attacks from. She used the energy given by the sorbguamis armour to leap up to a balcony on the second floor. White hot light shone from her armour and into the building—through a window—where she saw a short man with a bulbous nose fast asleep.

  Sonja bashed on the window. “Ansgren!” she called, then pounded again.

  The man swung his legs out of his bed, then lazily walked up to the window. “Ansgren’s presently engrossed with slumber. Conceivably, a subsequent juncture?” Ansgren blinked a few times. “Sonja occupies Ansgren’s terra—”

  “Ansgren!” Sonja interrupted, not wanting to watch any more of the Moonwatch fall while Ansgren selected complicated words that gave more meaning than required. “We have a situation! Gather slayers and listen for the fighting.” She looked up for a moment. “We need ranged support.”

  Ansgren blinked a few times. “Assert the signi—”

  “It’s fucking Crispin!” Sonja punched the window. “He killed Maver! Gather the slayers, now!”

  Noticing the armour was orange again, Sonja didn’t wait for a response. The roof was merely another floor higher, so she leapt up. During her ascent, she caught a blast of fire to the helm. It rattled her—like being punched in the head—but it also gave her a surge of energy. The armour was white again.

  Crispin didn’t give Sonja an opening, floating into a shadow the moment she steadied herself upon the roof. “You die this moon!” she roared into the darkness.

  Something wrapped around Sonja, then launched her into the air. “We’ll get him,” Savra’s voice shakily spoke from the shadow-thing that carried her.

  “Release me! I can move faster on foot!” Sonja demanded, not wanting to waste the armour’s power. “We need more slayers! Help Ansgren gather them!”

  “Who?” Savra asked, floating towards the ground.

  After landing, Sonja began running, much faster than the short slayer she was pointing at. “He’s hard to understand,” Sonja called back to Savra’s shadowy form. “Just help him gather the slayers!” In hindsight, Ansgren was probably the worst possible slayer for the task ahead. Hopefully he didn’t frustrate Savra to the point of devouring him.

  “If you insist…” Savra shot off towards Ansgren.

  “Ansgren!” Sonja’s voice bellowed, far louder than usual, somehow amplified by the sorbguamis armour. “Savra will help. Don’t fight her, no big words!”

  “Ansgren perceives the summation of circumstance’s gravity. Ansgren’s entirety—”

  Sonja lost track of the slayer’s words as she pressed onwards. She did, however, hear an unbecoming squeal from the man, probably from being lifted by into the sky by Savra.

  Continuing north along the road, Sonja saw fire streaming from another rooftop. More vampires formed in the sky, burning through their descent into ash. The sorbguamis armour was now a dull red, slowly fading to black. Exhaustion was returning to her once more. She felt a shadow-thing rush around her, and a stray fireball struck Sonja square in the head.

  The experiences of the moon were about as odd and far from natural as she had ever endured—and that's not including the fact she had been practically sucked dry by a leech! Being struck in the head was the most important thing for a slayer to avoid. It often meant death! This moon, however, being struck upside the head by an incinerating projectile did the very opposite; it gave her untold strength. A part of her was scared—terrified even—as to what would happen when all the fire faded from the sorbguamis armour. She was close to death before she adorned the armour. Would she survive long after removing it?

  Now was not the time to worry about whether she would live or die. All that mattered was finishing off Crispin. The flame had turned the armour orange again and gave Sonja another burst of energy. Crispin held his position, his fiery shield protecting him from the shadowy vampires closing in. The number of vampires didn’t seem to drop off—despite more and more of them burning up from Crispin’s attacks.

  Two more shadowy creatures retreated by either side of Sonja with balls of flame chasing after them. Once they passed, she stretched both arms out, piercing their trajectory and capturing the fiery energy through her gauntlets. White light sped up her arms, and in the blink of an eye the armour was a bright beacon of white.

  Bounding her way to the rooftop, Sonja left her claymore sheathed, choosing to rely on the armour’s power rather than a cutting edge. She punched through the flaming shield, taking the energy into her armour. Sonja managed to grasp a hold of Crispin’s wrist before he could revert to a shadow-thing. With her free hand, she swung a mean right hook, only to slip right through the man. The shadow-thing flew off the building. Though Crispin’s entire body hadn’t changed to shadow form, the burning grip Sonja had on his wrist remained and she found herself being dragged through the air.

  Crispin continued flying north, slowly falling to the ground from the drag of the woman holding onto him. Sonja punched, slapped, head-butted, and grasped at the shadows, but other than the wrist she held onto, she couldn’t seem to find anything physical. The armour faded to orange, her strength was slowly slipping. Her free hand grabbed at the physical wrist and she squeezed as hard as her draining energy would allow.

  Once they had drifted down to the road, Sonja lowered her centre and began to swing Crispin around. Vampires materialised around them, as did Crispin. He flung fire out towards the vampires, but they quickly shifted behind Sonja; Crispin wouldn’t dare launch fire in her direction, not on purpose.

  Sonja’s armour was now red, and she felt her strength slipping—even lower than her usual self. She released her right hand and made to punch Crispin again. He twisted his arm and changed into a shadow-thing before impact. Sonja tightened her grip, only to realise she had hold of nothing. Crispin had escaped her.

  “No!” Sonja screamed into the darkness. She felt weak, glancing at her fists to see the armour was almost as dark as the sky. Only the faintest hue of crimson barely showed itself now. Collapsing to her knees, she sensed the vampires take chase after the creature. After Crispin. Even kneeling had become a struggle to her now. Finding it hard to breathe, she collapsed to the ground. Her armoured palms barely striking the cobbled street in time to brace herself. Sonja had failed.

  Rolling down to her side, even the armour felt heavy. It was constricting her body, crushing her lungs. The cold invaded through the narrow eye slit in the helm, fogging up her eyes and making them difficult to hold open.

  Blinking, she stared ahead—towards the alley leading to the Lodern residence—for as long as she could. Sonja held dearly onto whatever life was left in her. If she could just get up and find Volk, his fire should be enough to give her strength to keep going. To finish Crispin.

  Finding her way back to her feet was not an option though. She barely had the strength to keep her eyes open. A moment before giving herself permission to close her eyes and free herself from this mortal pain, she saw Volk emerge from the alley. He was fully geared up in sorbguamis armour.

  “Sonja!” he cried, racing over and kneeling beside her. “Are you alright?”

  She wanted to scold him for asking such a ridiculous question. Since when was lying in the fetal position amidst an attack deemed alright? Instead, all she coul
d manage was, “Fire…”

  Volk slapped his right hand under his shoulder and pulled it free of its gauntlet. Red fire began swirling around his palm, and he pressed it to Sonja’s armour. While it didn’t strengthen her as much as a flaming punch to the head, it did give her strength. Not enough to kill Crispin, but enough to stand up.

  “Thanks Red,” Sonja said. “Keep up a constant flame, if you can. I need it.” She began to jog north.

  “I felt it, back at House Aepherius,” Volk said. “The fire I conjured upon my blades, the heat from it effected my armour.”

  “Yeah,” Sonja said. “I don’t know if I will survive without the armour’s power.”

  “What do you mean?” Volk grabbed Sonja’s arm and brought her to a halt. “You should rest if you’re injured.”

  “Not until we catch Crispin,” Sonja said, forcing Volk into a jog. “Caede drained me.”

  “He became one of them?”

  Sonja grunted a half hearted-laugh. “For a bit, he’s nothing but ash now.”

  “Shit!”

  “The vampires, that Moonwatch group, they’re here in Holtur.”

  “That’s how Ansgren’s moving about?” Volk smirked. “I thought it was odd, he only rambled half a dozen words—most of them coherent—before flying off.”

  “Savra’s helping him. We need as many slayers as we can muster to stop the bastard before he escapes.”

  “What about you?” Volk asked. “I’m blessed, but I can only conjure so much fire before I need to recover.”

  “We’ll make for the courtyard at the north wall,” Sonja said, her voice rising with hope. “You and I, we are going to see Reizexus.”

  “Good idea,” Volk agreed. “He will be able to generate plenty of heat. We’ll have a good vantage from the piloting sack too.”

  “No,” Sonja said, laughing as she shook her head. “We’re going to ride on his back… we’re going to power-up this sorbguamis armour through the alpha wyvern’s exhaust flames.”

  “Do you think the armour would be able to handle that much heat?”