by Clayton Wood
A long, wide tunnel extended above her, as far as she could see.
She felt more burning now, this time to her right, and knew that her right arm must be returning to her. She let it happen, having no other choice, feeling the sensation spread. The horrible pins-and-needles returned, pure torture that faded slowly, replaced by sharpness digging into her arms and legs.
She tried to move her eyes again, and found that she could.
Ariana lifted her head up slowly, the effort taking every bit of concentration that she had. She saw her body lying there, covered in chunks of stone of various sizes. A fine layer of gray dust coated her exposed skin. She lifted her head up further, spotted a deep gash in her left thigh.
Fear gripped her, panic rising in her breast.
She forced herself to look away, closing her eyes and resting her head back onto the ground. She felt an ache where the gash was, but it wasn't nearly as painful as she imagined it should be. She took a deep breath in, realizing with a start that it had been the first time she'd taken a breath since she'd awoken.
She held her breath, waiting.
Seconds passed, then minutes. No urge to breath came to her, no burning in her chest. No heartbeat pounding in her breast. She held her breath for what seemed like an eternity, yet nothing happened.
She exhaled, then opened her eyes again, lifting herself upward slowly until she was sitting on the hard stone below. She looked at the wound on her left thigh again, the sight of her exposed muscle and fat having less of an effect this time. She experimented, lifting her knee upward, and it moved easily, hunks of stone rolling off of it onto the ground. She tested her right leg, and lifted that knee as well.
Her right ankle was bent inward at a crazy angle, a sharp bone end jutting out of the side of it.
She jerked her head away from the sight, closing her eyes. A vision of an old man came to her, of her flesh parting under his fingertips. She shuddered, opening her eyes and ignoring her ruined ankle. It ached terribly, spasms of pain shooting up her leg.
Ariana leaned forward, twisting until she was laying on her stomach in the rubble, her legs behind her. She saw a hallway beyond the tunnel above her, and realized that she was in a riser shaft. How she'd gotten there, she had no idea...but it was clear that she'd fallen some distance. The pieces of stone around her were similar to the risers in the Tower, so she knew that she must be in the Great Tower.
She remembered Darius leaning over her, remembered herself screaming when they'd told her about...
Ariana reached up with one hand, pressing her fingertips against her forehead.
Then it came back to her...the realization of what Darius had done to her. Her guts twisted with dread, panic threatening to overwhelm her. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. What had happened after that? She remembered walking out of Kalibar's suite...and then nothing afterward. She frowned, concentrating harder. Still nothing.
She sighed then, staring down the hallway ahead. She realized that she could hear voices beyond, could see people at the other end of the long hallway...men in black armor, the elite guards of the Great Tower. Ariana grit her teeth, reaching ahead with one hand and pulling herself forward over the rubble beneath her. Then she reached out with her other hand, crawling toward the raised lip of the hallway floor only a few feet away. She reached it, hauling herself up into the hallway. The vibration in the center of her forehead grow stronger, pulsing within her. The sensation was different than it had been in life, but it was obviously magic. Somehow, her magic had been taken from her, and even more inexplicably, it was returning.
She paused, lying flat on the floor, feeling the vibration turn into a rapid-fire pulsing, the pulsing growing into a roiling cauldron of power. She felt her limbs strengthen, her muscles nearly bursting with energy. She moved again, crawling down the hallway, the motions effortless now, as if she weighed nothing at all. Her power was returning, that horrifying strength that had crushed Darius's armor, and nearly broken Kyle's hand.
She felt a pang of guilt then, followed by an intense despair at what she'd become. Not quite human, not quite alive. A dead girl walking, the unwilling inheritor of the Dead Man's curse...the man she thought she'd finally freed herself from.
“Hey!” a voice shouted. Ariana looked up and saw one of the elite guards running down the hallway toward her, his gravity shields activated. He stopped before her, his eyes widening in recognition. “Ariana!” he cried, dropping to one knee beside her. “Are you alright?”
“My legs,” she replied, grimacing slightly. “I think I fell.” The guard looked down at her legs, then frowned.
“They don't look injured,” he countered. “Which leg hurts?” Ariana stared at the man for a moment, wondering if he was daft. Then she rolled onto her side, glancing down at her legs. The smooth curve of her calves met her ankles without interruption, her right foot no longer deformed. She glanced at her left thigh, seeing nothing but a large tear in her pants, the underlying skin pale and smooth. She stared at it, hardly believing her eyes.
“Uh, miss?”
Ariana blinked, then turned to see the elite guard staring at her. She gave him the most convincing smile she could muster, then rose up from the ground in one fluid motion, forcing herself to move slowly. Still, the movement felt too quick. She could see the guard's surprise, and realized she would have to be more careful in the future if she wanted to keep her...condition...a secret.
“The right one,” Ariana replied, nearly forgetting the guard's initial question. She pretended to gingerly test it. “It's sore, but not as bad as I thought.”
“You can walk?”
“Yeah,” Ariana replied. The guard turned about, leading her down the hallway toward the lobby beyond. She followed behind, her eyes widening as she entered the huge room. The place was in shambles, the floor littered with fragments of stone and wood, her boots splashing in at least an inch of red-tinged water covering the floor. There were people everywhere...elite guards, Battle-Weavers, and even white-cloaked Runics standing about. Near the center of the lobby, to one side of a huge pile of something red and mushy – garbage, it looked like – stood Erasmus, surrounded by countless guards. The portly Grand Runic was speaking with one of the guards, but stopped when Ariana and her escort drew near.
“Ariana!” Erasmus exclaimed, excusing himself and walking up to her. “Thank goodness you're okay,” he added, looking her up and down. Then he frowned. “Wait, are you okay?” he asked. “You look terrible.”
“Gee thanks,” Ariana muttered. But she forced herself to smile – and found that she didn't have to try very hard. She was glad to see the foul-mouthed Grand Runic. “What's going on?”
“Ah, right,” Erasmus muttered, “...you wouldn't know.” Then he frowned. “Where's Kalibar and Kyle? They went to check up on you.”
“Uh, I don't remember,” Ariana admitted. “I fell on my way here and hit my head.” Erasmus raised one bushy eyebrow.
“Did you ever see them?” he asked. Ariana nodded.
“Yeah, they came to get me, but I think we got separated.”
“How so?” Erasmus pressed. Ariana shrugged. The Grand Runic frowned, running a hand through his impressive white beard. “Well, I've already sent Battle-Weavers to clear each level of the Tower. I'll have another team start from the top to make sure they're okay.” Then he sighed. “Kalibar's going to be damn lucky if the Council never hears about him pulling that stunt,” he added. “No offense, but running off to find you in the middle of a national security crisis was not his brightest move.”
“Sorry,” Ariana mumbled. Erasmus gave a tight smile, clapping Ariana on the shoulder.
“Don't be,” he replied. “That's why we have two leaders, after all.”
“Erasmus!” a voice called out. Ariana turned, looking past Erasmus, and saw Councilman Ibicus striding through the throngs of Battle-Weavers toward them, two of his own Battle-Weavers flanking him. The old Runic looked worried, his
face pale and tired. “Thank goodness you're okay,” he added. “What's going on?”
“Looks like Xanos sent those escaped prisoners to assassinate us,” Erasmus replied grimly. “They came through the evacuation tunnels and took out our guards. We were lucky to escape with our lives.”
“Unthinkable,” Ibicus muttered. Then he glanced at Ariana, a look of surprise on his face. “Ariana,” he added, frowning slightly at her. Ariana lowered her gaze, still self-conscious about her appearance. She hadn't looked in a mirror, but judging by the dreadful pallor of her limbs, she could only imagine how ghastly her face looked. It was as Erasmus had said...she looked terrible.
“Councilman Ibicus,” she greeted shyly. Ibicus stared at her silently for a long moment, then turned back to Erasmus.
“Where's Kalibar?” he asked. Erasmus gestured down one of the many hallways radiating from the lobby.
“He went to coordinate the Battle-Weavers on the upper floors,” he lied. “He'll be down later.”
“Good,” Ibicus stated. Then he frowned, glancing at the devastation littering the lobby. “What happened here?”
“The prisoners unleashed a new weapon in the lobby,” Erasmus explained. “Some sort of small white sphere. It absorbed magic, then released it in a rather remarkable way...in any case, we've secured the lobby,” he added. “I've set up a perimeter around the Tower. The gate is closed off, and Battle-Weavers are doing a sweep of each floor, starting from the ground up. They'll notify us when the Tower is cleared. Everyone knows to run if they encounter another one of these white spheres.”
“Understood,” Ibicus replied. “Convening the Council is of the utmost importance,” he added. “Have we retrieved any of the others?” Then he held up his hand, shaking his head quickly. “Never mind...or rather, not here,” he explained, glancing around the lobby. “We need someplace private to speak.”
“Of course,” Erasmus agreed, gesturing toward one of the hallways. “We can use one of the conference rooms.”
Ibicus nodded, then gestured for the two Battle-Weavers accompanying him to follow along. Erasmus put a hand on Ariana's shoulder, pulling her along with them. They made their way out of the lobby and into the hallway, stopping at one of the many doors on either side. Erasmus opened it up, and they walked through into a small room with a rectangular table surrounded by chairs. Two small windows on the opposite wall gave a limited view of the campus outside. Ibicus turned to the Battle-Weavers, giving them a curt nod. They stayed outside the room, flanking the doorway. Ibicus shut the door, then sat down on the edge of the table. He glanced at Ariana.
“Why don't you wait outside, dear,” he said, more of a statement than a question. But Erasmus shook his head.
“She can stay,” he countered. Ibicus frowned, staring at Ariana disapprovingly.
“She's a security risk,” he insisted. Erasmus snorted. Ibicus raised an eyebrow, turning to the Grand Runic. “I don't doubt that she's loyal,” he clarified. “But I can only imagine what would happen if she were caught by the enemy,” he added, glancing back at Ariana. “Who knows what secrets she would give up under the threat of torture?”
Ariana felt a chill run down her spine as she remembered that old man standing over her, his foul breath blowing in her face, his gnarled fingertip sliding down her leg...
“Cheery thought,” Erasmus grumbled. “But I think she'd do better than you under those circumstances,” he added wryly. Still, he turned to Ariana, his blue eyes apologetic. “Why don't you wait outside, Ariana.” But Ibicus held up one hand.
“On second thought,” the Elder Runic stated, “...we're not going to be discussing anything terribly detailed. Why don't you let her stay.” Erasmus shrugged.
“So where were we?” he asked.
“The Councilmen,” Ibicus answered. “It's imperative that we ensure their safety and return them to the Tower. We're vulnerable as long as the government is scattered like this.”
“It was your idea to separate them,” Erasmus countered. Ariana got the feeling that Erasmus didn't like Ibicus very much, for some reason. Ibicus raised an eyebrow.
“And if I hadn't suggested it, they'd likely all be dead right now.”
“Right,” Erasmus conceded, if grudgingly. “Well, we've sent contingents of Battle-Weavers to retrieve them. Each contingent only knows the location of one Councilman, for security purposes.”
“Excellent,” Ibicus replied. Then he turned to Ariana, frowning at her. She lowered her gaze, feeling exposed in the small room, with the bright lights illuminating her ghastly features. “Ariana, are you alright?” he asked. “You look pale.”
“I'm fine,” Ariana muttered, forcing herself to smile.
“You don't look fine,” Ibicus countered, sliding down from the edge of the table and taking a step toward her. “What's wrong?” Ariana took a step backward, maintaining her distance from the Elder Runic.
“I didn't sleep well,” she explained, trying to sound casual. Ibicus continued to frown, staring at her for a long moment. Erasmus glanced at Ariana, and – perhaps sensing her rising discomfort – stepped in between them.
“I hope,” he interjected, “...to clear the Tower, secure it, and then convene the Council. We have to develop a strategy for finding the remaining prisoners...and more importantly, for dealing with these new weapons, these white spheres.” He shook his head then, his expression grim. “We're not going to be able to protect the city if we don't figure out how to neutralize these things.”
“I'm afraid it may be too late for that,” Ibicus replied, his tone equally grim. Erasmus frowned.
“What do you mean?” he asked. Ibicus sighed, gesturing with one hand toward one of the windows on the far wall of the room.
“The city is being overrun as we speak.”
“What?” Erasmus exclaimed. Ibicus raised an eyebrow.
“I thought you knew,” he replied. “An army of Death Weavers crossed the city borders less than a half hour ago.” He gestured toward the window again. “See for yourself.”
Erasmus stared at Ibicus in disbelief, then strode toward the window, placing his palms on the wall on either side and staring out of it. Ibicus followed behind the Grand Runic, looking over the shorter man's shoulder.
“I don't see anything,” Erasmus retorted. Ibicus put a hand on Erasmus's shoulder.
“That,” he replied, “...is because the enemy is behind you.”
Ibicus reached his right hand into his pocket, pulling out something that flashed a dull silver. He rammed it into Erasmus's right side, and the Grand Runic howled in surprise and pain. Ibicus pulled his hand back, and jammed the object – a dagger! – into Erasmus's side again, then again. Blood welled up rapidly from the wounds, forming expanding circles on Erasmus's white shirt. Erasmus cried out, pulling away from Ibicus and stumbling toward the table, slumping over it. His blue eyes were wide with shock.
“No!” Ariana shouted, bolting forward. She wove magic, creating a gravity shield around Erasmus, then grabbed a chair with one hand, tossing it at Ibicus. A multi-layered gravity shield appeared around the Elder Runic, the chair bouncing harmlessly off of it. Ibicus smiled, turning to face her. His eyes glazed over suddenly, then refocused on her.
I'm certain I killed...
Ariana blinked, realizing the voice had been in her head. She faltered for a split second.
“Now now,” Ibicus stated, walking toward her slowly. The gravity shield around Erasmus vanished suddenly. “I'm certain I killed you earlier, little bird.”
Ariana froze, her eyes widening. A chill ran down her spine, her guts twisting in her belly. She backed up a step, staring at Ibicus mutely, shaking her head from side to side. Ibicus chuckled, taking a step toward her.
...protector is full of...
“I'm impressed,” Ibicus continued. He raised one hand to the side, and Erasmus slid off of the table, falling with a loud thump on the ground. “Your protector is full of surprises, isn't he?” He took another step to
ward Ariana, the table at his side imploding suddenly, a ball of shattered wood falling to the floor. Ariana saw Erasmus lying on his side on the ground, gasping for air. She glanced at Ibicus, then at Erasmus; she wanted desperately to run to the Grand Runic's side, but her legs wouldn't obey her. She was literally frozen with terror.
“You!” she managed to gasp. Ibicus smiled, taking yet another step toward her. He was only a few feet away now, his gravity shields bending the light ever-so-slightly around him.
“Ibicus was a fine choice, don't you think?” he stated, pointing to his own chest. “With Erasmus tragically murdered by an escaped prisoner, who else would ascend to be the next Grand Runic?”
“You killed Ibicus,” Ariana gasped. “You're just another Dead Man!”
...not dead yet...
“Oh, the good Councilman's not dead yet,” Ibicus countered. “Keeping him alive did take My...personal touch,” he added with another grin. He stepped up to Ariana, his gravity shields shoving her backward into the wall. Then he leaned forward, crushing Ariana between his shields and the stone wall, squeezing the air out of her lungs. He stared at her, waiting.
Ariana stared at him defiantly, gathering magic in her mind, feeling her power increasing somehow, the cauldron roaring with magic. She wove, thrusting the pattern outward. She saw a brief flash in her mind's eye, a pattern of light, and then it vanished.
A gravity shield appeared around her, then dissipated.
Ibicus chuckled, peering at Ariana. He cocked his head to the side, looking her up and down. The pressure in her chest was so intense that she couldn't have taken a breath in even if she'd needed to.
“Interesting,” he murmured. Then he stepped backward, releasing her. She stayed pressed against the wall, not even bothering to take a breath in. Ibicus frowned, lifting one arm up and pointing a finger at Ariana's chest. A burst of energy shot out from his finger toward her. She gasped, trying to dodge to the side, but she was too slow; the burst struck her...then stopped. She felt a strange sensation, that cauldron of power in her mind's eye weaving magic so quickly that she couldn't follow the patterns. A multitude of gravity shields erupted around her, shoving her away from the wall. The outermost layers struck Ibicus's shields, throwing the man backward. Ibicus recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing. He stared at her for a long moment.