Quantum Heights: Book one of the Dead Path Chronicles

by Richard A. Valicek

  “Thank you, Nero,” said Caprius. He grinned. “When we get to Elysium, it would be my pleasure to host a luncheon in your honor.”

  “That’s splendid!” Nero said smiling brightly. “I’ve never been among royalty before.” A minute later, with both men safely inside, the basket began to rise gently into the air. As they took flight and soared over the great white forest into the vast blue sky, the two men warmed their hands and spirits on some hot mead Nero produced from a large flask, sat back among pillows and blankets, and chatted like old friends.

  “Off we go, Nero,” said Caprius. The hot air balloon rose from the ground.

  Chapter 5

  Escape from Zaderack

  Deep in the waters of Lorgania sits the island of Moldern. Upon this island is the prison of Zaderack, the prison where Alamptria’s most notorious criminals were living out their sentences. The nine Goncools imprisoned by King Confidus and Queen Amenova of Koriston languished as they served out their two life sentences. Even if they were to survive imprisonment enough to see their eventual release, it would be when they were too old to enjoy the taste of freedom.

  As they lay in their cells, they thought about the events that had brought them there and ruined their lives. Their thoughts were focused on revenge, specifically aimed at the Seatons and Queen Amenova. They wondered about the dark angel who had promised them freedom and vengeance.

  One winter’s day, one of the Goncools, named Gabriel, who had been vigilantly marking the days on the wall since their incarceration, slashed in the 1825th day of their arduous, grim confinement. He trailed his fingers over the marks, wondering why this particular number sounded familiar. When it hit him, he broke into a cold sweat. This was the night the dark angel had said he would set them free. “This is it.” Gabriel bounced around his tiny cell with a devious grin on his face. “The dark salvation to Makoor’s word of truth begins TONIGHT!” he babbled. He turned to his Goncool cellmate. “Tonight we shall be set free, Bendrum.”

  “How do you know this?” asked Bendrum from his cot.

  “Did you forget, you idiot? Lavender Frikiseed promised that on this night he would come for us. I tell you, tonight is the night!” said Gabriel.

  Just then, the lights for the cellblock snapped off. Within a few minutes, snoring reverberated off the cold stone prison walls, but Gabriel’s and Brigadier’s eyes were wide open with excitement. Was this really the night of their salvation or just a false promise? Minutes turned to hours. Judging from the position of the moon, they knew the midnight hour was approaching.

  Indeed, their benefactor was not going to disappoint them. Outside the prison, beyond the island of Moldern, on the rocky seas, a small ship was slowly approaching. Standing portside was Lavender, who kept his steely vision on the prison as they neared. Beside him was the vampire Smogolous and the tall, gruesome creature known as Carcass Doom, the vampire Makoor’s henchman, who loomed over the others with his tall, reedy frame and scaly skin. Once they came up onto the sand bar just outside the island, Smogolous lifted off and flew into the night. The sound of his wings flapped against the hush of the surf until he disappeared through one of the darkened prison windows—one where a Goncool lay.

  In the dark, with midnight approaching, Brigadier began to have his doubts. “He’s not coming. That’s all just a story they fed us,” he groused. But, Gabriel remained optimistic and was too filled with anticipation to sleep. All around, the night was exceedingly quiet, more quiet than usual.

  At the stroke of midnight, in their adjoining cell, came the gnashing sound of metal bars bending and stone crumbling. Brigadier and Gabriel looked at each other in the dark, their eyes terrified and excited. The sound stopped abruptly. Then, it came again. And, stopped. And, again. Then the bars of their windows began to bend. A large menacing hand was bending the bars. Once all four bars were bent apart, Smogolous emerged and extended his arm into the room. He slowly pointed at Gabriel and gestured that he should come forth.

  “The Dark Lord,” croaked Gabriel. “He has sent for us.” Gabriel walked over to him as if in a trance. The vampire grabbed him and put him on his back. Gabriel hung on as the creature scaled the wall back down. Brigadier stood on his tiptoes trying to see out into the night, but he could see nothing. He began to wonder whether he’d imagined the whole thing until moments later, the creature returned. It placed Brigadier on its back and scaled the wall down to the sand outside the prison. No alarm had sounded, no lights had gone on. The night was black as ink.

  The creature dropped Brigadier on the sand. Smogolous went back to get the others. Only one person could have remained to tell of what had happened, but he was not a Goncool, and the creature snapped his neck, leaving him dead on the floor. The creature and the Goncools quietly walked over the wet sand down the slope to the docked ship. Once the men were aboard, the ship set sail toward the city of Elysium on the island of Alamptria.

  It wasn’t until the next morning that the prison guards discovered the Goncools had escaped and a man was dead from inexplicable wounds in a prison cell.

  ***

  Andromin walked the forest of Tithenro. His vision led him to this point of the forest. The forest was old and eerie with a sense of death. As he walked slowly, stepping on small branches, he heard the sound of wolves yelping. There was now a low bared fog he came across. As he walked through the mist, he saw a corpse rise onto its knees, holding out its hand as if it were seeking help. The corpse wore black clothing, which was torn and floating in the air. Andromin ignored it and kept walking. As he walked past it, the corpse lay back down upon the misty ground. But, as Andromin turned away, another corpse rose from the fog, it too extending its arm out seeking help. Again, Andromin ignored it, turning away, and the corpse lay back down in the fog. As Andromin continued to walk, there was another and another corpse that rose with their arms extended out in friendship. He passed them by ignoring them. It was then that five corpses at once stood to their knees. Again, they extended their arms out. Moments later, they disappeared in the fog. “What is this place? Where am I?” Andromin spoke. He continued to walk. Now, he stood before a small white tree. It had colorful red leaves, which swayed in the gentle breeze. Andromin felt drawn to it. As he stood ten feet away from it, he heard a soft voice.

  “What is it you seek?” asked the voice. The voice was that of Calista.

  “Calista, my love, I seek to find out who I am—the purpose of my life,” said Andromin.

  “Come closer, Andromin Seaton,” said the voice. Andromin stepped closer. “I am the path to immortality. I know all. I am here to give you the chance to find the way to the truth.”

  “What truth?” Andromin asked.

  “The reason why you were born.”

  “And, what reason my that be?”

  “You are here for a purpose.” Suddenly, ten corpses rose from the fog to their knees. Each holding out their hands at Andromin. “Death awaits you. And, with your death, you will be born into a life of service to the great Makoor. Upon your death, these ten Trothcorpse will live once more to serve you in your needs. You will help in our conquest in Alamptria. With your honor and devotion to Makoor, you will be seated on the throne of mount Drone.”

  “What must I do?” asked Andromin.

  The tree said not a word. In an instant, the red leaves from the tree sprung to life, flew from the branches, and latched onto Andromin. The leaves absorbed Andromin’s body as if they were eating him. Andromin screamed contorted.

  Fetrona awoke to her husband’s screams. He was sitting up in bed, obviously asleep, with his eyes open wide and his breathing jagged.

  “Andromin, what is wrong?” She rubbed his back until he slowly came out of his dream. He slowly lay back down onto his pillow breathing heavily.

  “Bad dream,” he said.

  “Andromin, you were talking in your sleep. You referred to Calista as your love,” said Fetrona.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean…” Andromin began.

  �
�Andromin, I think we need some time away from each other so you can get straight in your head who you’re married to. It’s either me or Calista. I don’t like you spending your time with her. And, I don’t want her around you. I think you need to take a vacation to give you some time alone to think.”

  “I’ve had this dream before,” said Andromin.

  The castle was silent. Outside, there was no wind or rain or howling of wolves. All seemed at peace. The candlelight on the table beside him put out a soft glow. He turned to watch the candle’s flame flicker. Andromin closed his eyes exhausted. He sat up in bed and faced the flame. He hesitated for a moment, then blew it out. Darkness filled the room. He closed his eyes, and soon, he fell asleep.

  ***

  The next morning in Castle Elysium, Confidus stood in a room inside the great hall looking down at a crate that had just arrived by the post carriage. Two of his men pried it open to reveal another crate, casket-shaped, inside. Some dirt was escaping from cracks in the seams, and when it was opened, they were not surprised to see much dirt and a man dead. Confidus frowned. A week prior, another similar crate had been delivered.

  Confidus edged closer to see the man’s face. He felt anger in his throat. “Just as I expected. Another of our agents killed and delivered to us,” he said.

  “We cannot afford any more mistakes. Send no agents to investigate this. The Seaton brothers must be called upon instead,” said Vijas, dusting himself off.

  “Yes, there is something far more sinister going on here,” said Confidus. He bent down and lightly touched the man’s hand. Inside his clenched fist was a pocket watch on a chain. Confidus took the watch and opened it. “Just like the other one. The time stands still at precisely 8:10 p.m.” He put the watch in his pocket. “This has the makings of a serial killer, and our agents are targeted.”

  “Whoever is doing this is sending us these bodies as a warning to back off,” said Vijas.

  “Four days ago, I received a note from Thomas Humphries saying he was making progress. Then, he winds up dead. Just like Simmons. Humphries’ last stop was in a hotel, where he was to meet with a woman. An artist, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “How could a woman be responsible for any of this? Such a sinister plot can only be orchestrated by a man and a devious one at that,” said Vijas. “A female artist can only-”

  “I know about this artist. She is not directly involved in this transport of bodies. But, she does play a part,” said Confidus.

  “The powers of Petoshine must rise again,” said Vijas.

  “Yes, the claymore of power is needed.” He paused. “I don’t want to do this, but I will have to send my son Caprius to investigate. And, he will not be going alone.”

  “Whom shall you send with him? Andromin is on holiday and Dragus,” Vijas laughed a tight little laugh. “Well, he’s not up to the task. Remember how he let himself get bitten by the undead,” he said scornfully.

  Confidus glared at Vijas. “You know as well as I do that my son Dragus performed valiantly in that battle, and anyone in his position could have been compromised.” Confidus sighed. “However, the fact is he is not as strong a warrior as Caprius. The other person I have in mind will be an excellent partner for Caprius, and I know she will take good care of him.”

  “She?” asked Vijas, sneering.

  “Yes, she. This she saved my life.” Confidus looked down at his dead agent. “I will inform Thomas’ wife of what has happened. It will not be easy.” Confidus laid his hand on Thomas’ forehead. “That poor woman. Thomas had a very young daughter. And, now she is fatherless. Much like Melina was when she came into my life, so young and fragile. It will be very difficult. I’ve known Thomas for sixteen years. I remember when his little girl was born. He was so happy. He ran to tell me like a boy running home from school.” He sighed. “How did it come to this?” Confidus closed the lid of the coffin. “I will make the proper funeral arrangements.” He looked at the two men. “Seal it shut.”

  Chapter 6

  Win, Lose, or Die

  Grimy snow covered the dismal land of Plaphorius. The gloom of the falling night blanketed the lost souls lurking in the dim light. The vampires, however, rejoiced at the dark, and as it crept in, their spirits rose.

  At a dim pub riddled with mice and spider webs, the vampires were having a marvelous time. At one round table, six vampires were so immersed in their poker game, they didn’t even worry over finding fresh blood to feast upon. Yet, there was one worry they all shared, which was the arrival of Carcass Doom, chief henchman to the dark lord Makoor. Accompanying him would be his right-hand man, Cambrozes Genesis, a man greatly feared among the undead for his power and strength.

  The six Goncools at the table knew one of them was going to be disintegrated. They had to answer for their bungled attempt to steal Caprius’ claymore of power. It had been so decreed by Makoor himself that Carcass should take whatever action he felt was appropriate against the Goncool responsible. The men threw down their cards, dealt fresh hands, and anted up high and higher amounts, each feeling superior to the others, believing he couldn’t possibly be the one held responsible.

  “Alright, gentlemen, show me your cards,” said Lavender, fanning out his four aces and a queen on the table before him. The others groaned as they threw down their cards. “So, you see gentlemen, why it would be pointless for you to play another game,” he smirked. “Unless you like handing over your money.”

  One of the Goncools stood up, his face red with rage. “I think you cheated! You’ve been playing us,” he said waving a finger in Lavender’s face.

  “My friend, I don’t have to cheat. I’m simply talented, unlike yourself,” scoffed Lavender. He scooped all the chips over to himself and began separating them according to their worth. “Surely, there are far worse things in life than losing a poker game?”

  The one Goncool who had folded early spoke, his voice shaking. “You may gamble as you wish, but to lose your life, that would be a greater tragedy,” he said, eying everyone at the table. “Who’s it going to be?”

  “Not I,” said another of the Goncools, a large, burly fellow with a great head of dark curls. “I was not among the four of you when you failed to deliver the claymore of power,” he said.

  “Neither was I!” said another Goncool raising his thin, frail voice.

  Lavender sat back and crossed his arms. “A-ha, and that gives Carcass Doom even more reason to select one of you fools as the ultimate loser in this game. If you’re a minor player, you’re of no consequence. Those of no consequence,” he paused to dramatically pick at his teeth with a long fingernail, “are not needed. By anyone. And, certainly not the Dark Lord.”

  “Lavender, you’re drunk as a sow. You know what they say, ‘The bigger they are, the harder the fall,” said the burly Goncool.

  Lavender grinned and shrugged. “Speaking of which,” he said, “I see my glass has become empty.” He snapped his fingers at a passing waiter. “The drinks are on me, boys. May I say it was a privilege. And, since for one of you it will be the last time you set your eyes upon this life, I say you drink up!” The waiter arrived. “My good lad, bring us a round of young blood, well aged. And, doubles for these two.”

  “Yes, Lavender,” said the waiter. Lavender smiled and rubbed his hands together. “I’m feeling very lucky. The moon bleeds red on this night.” Then, he edged closer to the two and said in a whisper, “but it isn’t my blood that will be spilt.” He leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. Moments later, the waiter came by with a tray of goblets containing aged blood. “To your health!” said Lavender. “And, may I make a toast to the chosen one. May he rest in peace,” he grinned.

  They clinked glasses and downed their blood, each one eyeing the others over the rim of his drink, except for Lavender, who seemed more than sure of whom the victim would be. Outside in the dark, a foul wind rattled the shutters. “Oh, good. Carcass Doom is making his approach,” said Lavender. “Might I make a suggestion to
the two of you?” he raised an eyebrow. “The more you prostrate yourselves and beg for mercy, the better your chances of survival.” He took a sip of his drink.

  Suddenly, the front door blew open, bringing in gusts of snow and icy wind. From inside the blizzard’s gateway, the dark phantom’s shape became clear. He entered the pub spinning like a cyclone in a fog of darkness. Chairs skidded across the floor; poker chips flew off tables; playing cards were tossed into the air. The spinning cyclone of dark fog moved toward the Goncools. The wind was so fierce, it pushed the flesh back from the bones of the patrons’ faces. Everyone’s eyes were plastered open. Men grabbed at their eyes, trying to protect them from the flying debris.

  From inside the cyclone of wind and the fog surrounding them like a cocoon, there appeared the great Carcass Doom. He brought his hand up, and instantly, all was still. His height was formidable, his head nearly grazing the wooden ceiling. His clothing was black, an aged tuxedo and tails shredded from time and use. When the dust settled at the table, the Goncools got a close look at Carcass’ face: skin like tree bark had become embedded in his flesh. His eyes were a liquid yellow, his lips cracked and black, moldy at the corners from rot. When he spoke, they saw his teeth: decayed stumps, the same dark yellow as his eyes. “Playing cards and drinking on this blood moon night. Can one of you feel the chill of your doom?” he said, his voice hard and cracked like aged ice.

  One of the two Goncools who feared Carcass most stood, his legs quaking beneath him. “It is he who orchestrated the plan at Quantum Heights!” he said pointing at Lavender. “I was not among them. I was not a part of that ordeal. Have mercy on me, Great One.”

  “Mercy, you say?” Carcass said, pretending to be bewildered. “This is no time to be merciful, for I must acquire a soul for the Dark Lord.”

  “I had nothing to do with it either, Doom,” the other Goncool stood to defend himself.

  “Impudent fool. Do not call me Doom. I am Carcass Doom,” he said, pointing to himself.