Quantum Heights: Book one of the Dead Path Chronicles

by Richard A. Valicek

  Andromin felt lost and alone. He’d done unspeakable things and almost craved being caught and punished for his crimes, as that would mean the world was still functioning as it should. But, he knew this Goncool had spoken the truth. The mortal world as they knew it was in terrible danger. And, there was nothing, no small amount of murder, that could be done to save it.

  Andromin grabbed his things from the room and left the hotel, boarding the first train out. Andromin looked out the window at the wintered landscape, seeing nothing. “I do believe my vacation has ended,” he thought.

  The waiter approached, bringing Andromin his dinner. He took a bite and made a face.

  “Is it not to your satisfaction, Sir?” asked the waiter.

  “It tastes like sawdust.” He paused to sip his wine and cleanse his palate. “Ah, and the wine has turned!”

  “I will get you our best wine, Mr. Seaton,” said the waiter, “and a new meal.” The waiter walked away.

  Andromin felt sorry in a way for the waiter. He knew it was his own fault the food and drink tasted awful. It was because he was rotten through and through, and nothing he did, or ate or drank, or any good thoughts he would have could change things. He thought then about Fetrona. He was always inclined to blame her for their fractious relationship, but he knew he’d never be satisfied with anyone, particularly himself. He looked out again. Darkness had set in, and Andromin sat back, steeling himself for the long trip home.

  By the time the authorities would find out that Andromin had committed these murders, something tragic would happen to Hotel Quantum Heights, which, for Andromin’s sake, would grant him the privilege of freedom. The authorities would never find out.

  Chapter 16

  Fallen

  An hour later, Caprius and Calista walked into St. Basil’s Church. A funeral was underway attended by a small crowd. They made their way up the rows of pews and sat in the fourth row. The woman beside them was sobbing. The priest’s sermon was brief, but it enlivened the mourners, and the woman wiped her eyes, crossed herself, and looked more at peace from his words.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Madam, but whose funeral is this?” Calista whispered to her.

  She smiled sadly. “It is for my sister. Her life was taken away far too early. She was so young, so vibrant. She was a nun at this church.”

  “What was her name?” asked Calista, suddenly growing cold.

  “Laura Bently,” said the woman, a tear falling from her eye.

  “Sister Laura? No, it can’t be,” Calista said. “We came here to talk with her today.” She leaned in toward Caprius. “This funeral is for Sister Laura Bently,” she said.

  Caprius knew what had happened and felt dreadful. Calista laid her hand upon the grieving woman’s knee. “May I ask how she died?”

  “A foul creature attacked her, a vampire,” said the woman beginning to weep again.

  “Oh, no. I am so sorry,” said Calista. Calista caught Caprius’ eye and saw that he knew. Around them, friends and family went up to the casket to pay their last respects. Caprius and Calista joined the end of the line. When they reached her, they looked upon the young woman’s face. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this,” Calista whispered to her.

  After the funeral ended, the casket was taken out, and the churchgoers followed. Caprius and Calista stayed seated.

  “Finding the truth just got a lot harder. Come on. Let us follow the procession to the graveyard,” said Caprius.

  Later, once night had fallen, Caprius and Calista returned to the graveyard. They went to the church and descended the steps into the crypt, carrying a torch to light the way. They walked by all the graves, Caprius holding the torch to each so he could read the markings. He stopped. “Here it is, Laura Bently.”

  Caprius removed his dagger from his belt buckle. “We must do this to save her soul. Luckily, her coffin is toward the bottom. We can easily put it back in when we’re done. Here, can you hold this?” said Caprius, handing Calista his torch.

  With his dagger of power, Caprius drew a thin beam of light that cut into the stone wall, making an opening large enough to pull the coffin out. He put his sword down on the dirt floor and pulled on the stone with the tablet. It was heavy, and he struggled, but he gave one last heave and pulled it from the wall. It landed on the ground with a thud. Caprius opened the casket. Calista leaned in with the torch, and in the light, they confirmed that inside was indeed the body of Laura Bently.

  He moved her stiff arms to the side, and they cracked. “Sorry to do this to you, Sister, but it’s the only way.” Caprius tore her shirt open to expose her chest. He took the dagger from his boot and pierced through the flesh and bone. He cut out the heart and set it on the ground. With the powers of the dagger, he set the heart on fire. The heart burst into flames. It burned down rapidly. Then, Caprius drove his dagger into the poor woman’s throat. With a twist of the blade, he decapitated her.

  They looked down to see that Laura’s heart had completely disintegrated into ash. Only bits of blackened and burned cloth remained. “Glad to see you could stomach what we just did, Calista.”

  “I was actually about to say the same to you, Caprius,” she smirked.

  “Beautiful and funny. Quite a combination. Here, give me the torch.” Calista handed it to him. “Let’s get out of here,” said Caprius.

  They emerged from the crypt into the darkness of night and closed the door. The churchyard was bedecked in white, the gravestones sparkling in the moonlight. When they turned to steal away, they came face to face with the head sister, Sister Mildred. “What are the two of you doing here?” she asked harshly.

  “We were paying our respects to Sister Laura,” said Calista.

  “At this late hour?” the nun said. “You have no business here!” She stuck out her hand. “Give me that torch.”

  Caprius handed her the torch, and when Sister Mildred’s hand brushed against Caprius’, a vision came to her. She saw Caprius pulling out the coffin from the wall. She saw Laura’s heart taken out and set on fire. She saw him decapitate Sister Laura. The vision vanished, and she was left standing before the two knights. “What have you done,” she said, her voice low and full of tremor.

  “Nothing, nothing at all. See for yourself,” said Calista. The nun opened the door to the crypt. “Good evening to you, Sister Mildred,” said Calista. Calista and Caprius walked away casually. They waited for the nun to disappear down into the crypt, then hid behind a gravestone to wait for her to return.

  Alone inside the crypt, Sister Mildred went to Laura’s coffin. It looked untouched, but on the ground she spied bits of burned cloth and some blood. She bent over with difficulty and touched some of the blood to her tongue with a finger. More premonitions flooded her; she knew Laura’s body had been desecrated.

  Sister Mildred returned to the churchyard. She looked around, but seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she marched away. Caprius and Calista let the nun get far ahead before following her, their boots making heavy tracks in the powdery snow. They went through the cemetery and into the woods. Calista and Caprius kept the nun in sight but maintained their distance. The stocky nun had good stamina; she climbed a hill that took her deeper into the woods. Soon, she came to a rocky area covered with stones and sprouts of grass. Small shadows moved against the rocks; when the Sister arrived, the shadows sprang to life, snarling and howling. They were Droges. She ignored them and soon came to the mouth of a cave. Without pause, she went inside. Caprius and Calista waited for the Droges to move away, and when the creatures’ attentions were elsewhere, the two darted past them and ran into the cave.

  Once their eyes adjusted to the dark, they saw the nun in a stiff trot ahead in the distance. The nun passed a section of large stones that surrounded a pit. The pit was wide but not deep, and standing inside of it was the great vampire and Makoor’s most vital henchman, Cambrozes Genesis. Genesis wore a long red-silk robe that pooled over the ground.

  Caprius and Calista hid behi
nd the stones and looked down. The nun had run in directly to Cambrozes Genesis. “I recognize that man,” whispered Calista. “He comes to me in my dreams and tries to comfort me.”

  “That man is your father, Calista.” Caprius took Calista’s hand in his and looked her in the eyes. “Do not give in to him. If you do, you will be lost to the underworld.”

  Down below, they heard conversation taking place. “Something unfortunate has happened. Two knights desecrated Laura’s tomb,” said the nun.

  “What did you see?” asked Cambrozes.

  “Visions came to me when I touched the hand of one of the knights and again when I tasted the blood of Laura Bently. Then, I saw it; the knights took out her heart. They burned it and severed her head,” said the nun.

  “Then, it is finished. Her soul has been saved, and she cannot be among us,” said Cambrozes.

  “These knights are a menace. They must be destroyed,” said the nun.

  “Caprius Seaton has received a greater power from Petoshine. My daughter, Calista, has received the same power and is now a knight master. She has gone against my wishes. I have lost her,” said Cambrozes.

  “You have my sincerest sympathy, great Genesis,” said the nun.

  “Yes, but now your time has come to fulfill your destiny,” said Cambrozes. “Do you willingly give yourself?”

  The nun approached Cambrozes and tilted her head. “I pledge myself to you, great one,” she said.

  “Then, with that, I give you your third and final bite. Let the blood of Makoor flow through you.” Cambrozes grabbed her by the shoulders and sank his teeth into her neck. She did not scream but closed her eyes and moaned seductively.

  “Let’s get them both now,” said Calista to Caprius.

  “No, wait. Somewhere there is a cult in hiding. And, it isn’t in Plaphorius or Mount Drone. We need these two to lead us to them. Then, we will gather our strength, and with our power, we will destroy them all,” said Caprius.

  The bite to Sister Mildred brought on the Monisar: the transition to the undead. When the transition was complete, Mildred and Cambrozes transformed themselves into horrific vampires. The creatures went deep into the cave, and Caprius held Calista back. “I suspect they have an alternate exit and they’ll soon be long gone,” he said. “Why don’t we return to the hotel and resume our investigation at the church.”

  “We know sister Mildred is the head of the nuns. If we can get into her office, we may be able to find something,” said Calista.

  Caprius and Calista turned to leave when suddenly a pack of ravenous Droges was standing in front of them, salivating. They attacked, and Calista swiftly pulled out her sword and fought off the two who had come at her, killing them. Caprius tried to channel his powers to bring flame to his sword, but it didn’t work. He tried again—still nothing. The two Droge creatures who had him in their sights pounced on him and bit at his flesh, tearing pieces off. Calista didn’t understand and began to panic. “What the hell is happening to our powers?” she shouted. A Droge lunged at Calista, and she decapitated it with a neat slice of her sword. Beside her, Caprius tried swinging his sword at the creatures on him, but the Droge on his arm had the better of him and caused him to swing at empty air. Caprius cried out in pain. Calista turned, driving her sword into the Droge’s stomach. She picked off the other Droges who were on Caprius, skewering them and stabbing them through their necks, hearts, and stomachs until they all lay around her partner dead.

  Caprius fell among them, his face planted onto the ground. He was badly wounded. Three other Droges since had appeared and stood before Calista. One of them pounced at her, but she sliced it through the chest. Calista didn’t wait for the others to attack; she was angry and went after them. Cornered by the cave wall and the rage of the knight, they whimpered and snarled. She put her face down and yelled, “Boo!” The two Droges turned and ran out of the cave. These were not super Droges. Had they been, it would have been fatal. Calista turned and gasped. Caprius was alive but badly hurt. He was drifting in and out of consciousness. She crouched by his side on her knees feeling furious and afraid. She knew it was a sure death to try and walk out with Caprius over her shoulder. If any more Droges were to come and attack, she wouldn’t be able to fend them off so encumbered.

  The torches on the walls of the cave flickered in the tomb-like silence. Hours passed, and Calista held Caprius and tried to keep him awake by murmuring stories. She mopped at his multiple injuries but was fearing if they didn’t get out of this devil’s sanctuary and away from whatever other danger lay in store for them, he would die from his wounds.

  “I just don’t understand it. Why aren’t the claymores working?” Calista set Caprius gently down and looked around. “Somehow, we will get through this, Caprius.” She brought her claymore of power before her and channeled her powers more strongly than she ever had before. A faint glitter of light came to the blade, but it was far too weak to help her. Calista’s hope began to wane, and she trembled. More time passed, and she was at a loss as to how to help them.

  Finally, as she was close to trying to heft him out of the cave, despite knowing that meant certain death for them both but not knowing what else to do, she stood and before her came a great sparkle of light. The light transformed into a human spirit. It was Felicia - the Golden Fleece. Calista marveled at her beauty.

  “Rise, my child. I am Felicia - the Golden Fleece. I am sorry you have fallen. The light of Petoshine grows dim on this night as an evil has tried to claim Caprius Seaton. All around you is this evil, and it is held in the walls inside a magnetic field. This is why you are unable to access the true powers of your claymores. Without your powers, your swords are only basic weapons, and your bodies are vulnerable like ordinary humans’. If you do not leave soon, Caprius will surely die. And, even you may perish at the hands of the Droges. The only way to save yourselves from the pervading evil of this place is to get out of this cave and into the wilderness, far away from the magnetic field. There, your powers will be restored, and your powers are what will save Caprius.”

  Felicia took Calista by the chin and looked sternly in her eyes. “Calista, you have been chosen as a knight of Petoshine by the great Grongone. Fulfill the destiny that has been placed before you. But, be warned, you will be at the mercy of the Droges. Good luck, and may the light of Petoshine be with you.” With those words, Felicia vanished.

  Calista felt instantly more at ease, bathed in the love from the spirit of the Golden Fleece. “All right, soldier, I’m going to take you out of here.” Calista hefted Caprius’ weak frame over her shoulder and began to drag his body along the ground. She pulled him a long ways over the cave floor, then breathless, stopped to rest. No evident signs of danger were around.

  Caprius tried to mutter a few words, but she couldn’t make them out. She held him close, his wounds oozing blood and fluids. She knew Caprius was suffering terribly. “Why did we come here?” she whispered to him. They had failed and hadn’t been able to follow Cambrozes Genesis to his stronghold, where he would carry out the plans for his sinister plot. Her eyes filled with tears as she held him. She would die if anything happened to him. He was always so filled with passion for life. She remembered when Caprius’ father, Confidus, had also been attacked by Droges, and she had managed to save him. But, this was far worse than Confidus’ mangled arm; Caprius’ wounds were over his whole body. She knew he was dying.

  Calista vowed to do everything she could to save him. If he died, the guilt would kill her, too. Calista regrouped her inner resources and began to drag Caprius again through the cave. She dragged him a great distance, nearly to the opening of the cave. As much as her body ached for rest, she pushed on in the hopes that their claymores of power would regain their powers.

  She made it to a clearing about twenty yards out of the cave and laid him down. She drew her sword and tried to channel her powers. A tiny glimmer of light came to her sword. “Damn,” she said. It was still night, the moon glinting off the rocky t
errain and ice. Fortunately, there were no Droges in sight. She pulled Caprius’ body up and kept on away from the cave, eventually coming out onto a snow-covered field. She eased up her hold on him, as going over the snow was easier. At the field’s edge, she paused, drenched in sweat, and tried her claymore again. Again came a faint glimmer of light, but then a surge of bright light popped out. Yet, as quickly as it had come, it expired. She was disappointed, but at least this was progress.

  Dawn was beginning to fade in, and she welcomed the morning light. Sleep was not an option, not with Caprius’ life hanging in the balance. The sun emerged and shined down on them. Caprius was coming into consciousness. “Here,” she said, scooping some of the pure snow through his cracked and bloody lips. “This will help give you strength.”

  She ate some of the snow, herself, then brought him as far as she could before she needed to pause again. Again, she tried her claymore, and again, it failed her. Caprius was trembling from cold and shock, so Calista crouched down and buttoned up his coat, reinvigorated to keep going. She dragged him yet further in the snow, finally coming to a wooded area. Calista pulled him around the trees and stopped to rest in a clearing. He looked so frail and helpless. She brushed his hair back from his face and tears dropped on his coat. “Caprius, you can’t die. You can’t. I love you,” said Calista. “You hear me, Caprius?” Caprius was shivering violently now. It was clear he was entering later stage hypothermia, so she got on top of him and held him until she could feel his skin begin to warm. It had been eight hours since the attack. Night would fall soon. They’d neither eaten nor drunk but for a bit of snow, and Caprius’ wounds were significant.