Runic Revelation (The Runic Series Book 2)

by Clayton Wood

  “To be fair, Darius did save us,” Owens stated gently. “And Erasmus, by extension. Your bodyguard has more than his fair share of faults,” he added, “But bad judgment isn't one of them.”

  “Communication is,” Kalibar countered. But he sighed, visibly deflating. “We'll do without him. In the meantime, we need a secure base of operations, and we need to establish lines of communication with our militia.” He glanced down at the crossbow in his hands. “And we need to produce as many of these as possible.”

  “I'll get Erasmus's Runics on it,” Owens promised.

  “Thank you,” Kalibar replied. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath in, then letting it out slowly. He looked older suddenly, almost haggard. “With Erasmus critically injured and the Council scattered, I am the government.” He glanced about the lobby, at the dozens of men milling about. “If I fail,” he stated, his voice almost too quiet to hear, “...the Empire will fall.”

  * * *

  Kyle sighed, sitting down on one of the many chairs that had been brought to the lobby from other rooms in the Tower. The lobby had been rapidly converted into Kalibar's base of operations, and it hadn't taken long for High Weaver Urson to arrive with a few dozen more Battle-Weavers. Kyle had never seen Urson before, and had previously imagined him to be an old, grizzled man, but he was far from it. Young, perhaps in his late thirties, with long blond hair and green eyes, he was a striking figure in his black and silver suit of armor, a long black cloak spilling down from his shoulders. He walked and spoke with an almost cocky confidence, no doubt borne of his repeated successes on the battlefield. Urson and Kalibar had spoken for quite some time, but what they'd discussed was still a mystery to Kyle. Kyle was utterly exhausted, which was no surprise; he'd woken up yesterday morning in one of the Dead Man's carriages, and now it was after midnight. Not to mention that he'd spent a few hours on Antara, when only a third of that time had passed here on Doma. He'd had a heck of a day!

  Kyle glanced to his right, where Ariana was sitting beside him. Despite everything that had happened to her, she didn't look tired in the least. She'd spent most of the last half-hour staring off into space, likely still processing everything that had happened to her. He couldn't imagine what it must feel like to be in her position. He wanted to talk to her about it, to understand what she was going through, but he was too scared that bringing it up would hurt her. Still, the silence between them was becoming increasingly unbearable, and eventually he had to break it.

  “Hey,” he said, tapping Ariana on the shoulder. She snapped out of her reverie, turning to look at him questioningly. Her big brown eyes were startlingly beautiful against her stark white skin; he suddenly felt bashful to look at her.

  “Hi,” she mumbled back, managing a weak smile.

  “You okay?”

  “No,” Ariana admitted. “You?”

  “I'm okay,” he replied. “I'm just worried about you.”

  “I'll be okay,” she said, staring down at her lap. “I just need time to think, that's all.” She paused for a moment, then shook her head. “It's like this isn't real,” she added. “Like this is just a dream, and any moment now I'm going to wake up.”

  “Yeah,” Kyle agreed. He'd often felt the same way about his entire journey on Doma...that it had to be a dream. That any moment, he'd wake up on Earth, in his room, right where he'd been the night he'd been taken by Ampir. “I'm sorry,” he added, giving her a sidelong glance.

  “For what?”

  “I don't know,” Kyle answered. “For what happened to you, I guess.”

  “It's not your fault,” she countered, putting a cold hand on his thigh. “It's not anyone's fault.”

  “Yeah,” Kyle mumbled. He thought of Darius then, of how he'd spent so much time with the man on Antara, leisurely talking while Ariana had been attacked...and killed. If Darius had never taken Kyle to Antara, if he had been in the Tower when Ariana had been attacked, she might never have died. Darius had been wrong about his runes being able to beat Xanos, and Ariana had paid dearly for that mistake.

  Her death was someone's fault.

  “Don't worry,” Ariana stated, patting Kyle on the thigh. He glanced at her, seeing her staring back at him. Her gaze was almost hypnotic, and it quelled his sudden anger at Darius. “I'll be okay, I think.”

  “I can't believe you're okay after that fall,” Kyle said. And it was true; despite her amazing strength, her fall down forty stories of riser shaft should have killed her. Or – seeing as she was already dead – at least maimed her. Ariana shrugged.

  “I'm not sure what happened,” she admitted. Then she hesitated for a moment. “The man who...killed me, he said I had runes on my bones,” she added. “After I fell down the riser shaft, I broke my leg, but it healed itself somehow. I think it was the runes.”

  “Huh?” Kyle asked. Then he spotted Kalibar stepping away from High Weaver Urson and walking toward them. The Grand Weaver looked utterly exhausted.

  “I'll tell you about it later,” Ariana promised, standing up as Kalibar walked up to them. Kyle stood as well. Kalibar stopped before them, gazing at Kyle with a critical eye. Kyle noticed that the Grand Weaver had strapped his modified crossbow – the weapon that had killed Ibicus – to his back.

  “You need to get some sleep,” Kalibar observed. He flagged down a guard, gesturing at Kyle. “Please escort Kyle to the temporary sleeping chambers,” he stated. The many conference rooms and banquet halls on the first floor of the Tower had been converted into sleeping quarters and mess halls. The guard saluted Kalibar briskly, then gestured for Kyle to follow him. Kalibar turned to Ariana.

  “You too,” he stated. But Ariana shook her head.

  “I'm not tired.”

  “Then at least watch over Kyle,” Kalibar insisted, putting a hand on Ariana's slender shoulder. “I'll feel better with you there beside him.” Ariana nodded, following Kyle and their chaperone out of the lobby and into one of the hallways. After a few turns, they arrived in a small room with two guards posted outside. Inside of the room, there were rows of cots lying on the floor, two rows of six. None of the cots were in use, so Kyle chose one farthest from the door. Ariana chose a cot beside him, and they both sat down, pulling off their shoes, then lying down.

  “I wonder what's going on,” Kyle murmured. He heard Ariana stir, saw her turn over in her cot to face him.

  “The Southwest Quarter is under attack,” she replied. “They think it's the rest of the escaped prisoners. They're setting buildings on fire.” Kyle frowned.

  “How do you know that?” he asked. She'd been sitting right next to him the whole time, after all.

  “I heard them,” she answered. He stared incredulously at her; they'd been a good fifty feet away from Kalibar and Urson when the two men had been talking, and the lobby had been extremely noisy. He hadn't been able to hear a thing. She frowned. “You couldn't hear them?”

  “Not at all,” Kyle confirmed. Ariana touched her earlobe with one finger absently, then lowered her hand.

  “I guess my hearing is better now.”

  “What else did you hear?” Kyle pressed.

  “There's more of those Void spheres,” she answered. “The prisoners let them loose in the city. They've evacuated the area, but the spheres are coming this way.”

  “Now?” Kyle asked, suddenly nervous about going to sleep.

  “Not for a while,” Ariana clarified. “Urson's scouts say they're moving slowly, draining the city of magic.”

  “Great,” Kyle grumbled. “Anything else?”

  “Councilman Goran came back,” Ariana replied. Kyle gave her a sour look; he hated the man, or at least the way he treated Kalibar. Ariana gave Kyle a sad smile. “It's okay,” she added. “He can't bother Kalibar anymore.”

  “Why's that?”

  “Kalibar claimed the Right of Dictatorship,” Ariana explained. Kyle's eyes widened; he'd heard of the old law that allowed Kalibar and Erasmus to take complete control of the military away f
rom the Council, from Erasmus during one of his typical tirades against Goran. If Kalibar had claimed the Right of Dictatorship, there was no way the pesky Councilman could get in his way anymore.

  “Finally!” Kyle exclaimed. But Ariana didn't look pleased.

  “It's not a good thing,” she countered.

  “Why?”

  “It means they might execute him after his term,” she whispered. Kyle felt a chill run through him, and he stared at Ariana for a long moment, hoping she was joking. But it was clear that she was dead serious. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, feeling despair come over him. They couldn't execute Kalibar! He was the best Grand Weaver they'd ever had, after all...and their greatest war hero. The people of the Empire would never let the Council do something like that to him...would they?

  “We've got six years,” Ariana murmured. Kyle felt something cold grab his hand and squeeze it; he pulled away at first, then realized it was her hand.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn't realize...” But Ariana pulled her hand away. Kyle stretched his arm out, searching for her hand, and found her arm instead. He tried to pull it toward himself, but he might as well have been yanking on a statue. “Come on,” he urged, yanking anyway. She paused, then yielded. He slid his hand down her arm, finding her hand, and squeezed it.

  “You don't have to pretend to want to,” she protested. But she didn't pull away. Kyle smiled, squeezing her hand again. She looked lovely in the darkness, and he was suddenly struck with an overwhelming affection for her.

  “You're still beautiful,” he countered, then felt a bolt of terror run through him. He'd never said anything like that to a girl before – he'd never had the guts to. But Ariana smiled, turning on her side to get closer to him. She stared at him for a long moment with those hypnotic eyes, and Kyle had the sudden insane urge to kiss her.

  “Really?” she asked. “You think I'm beautiful?” Kyle nodded, emboldened by her smile, and squeezed her hand again.

  “Really.”

  “Thanks,” Ariana whispered back. She slid forward then, letting go of his hand and wrapping her arms about him, hugging him...hard. Kyle gasped, his ribs threatening to crack under her vise-like grip. Ariana pulled back, putting a hand to her mouth.

  “Sorry!”

  “Try again,” he offered. She paused, then leaned in, hugging him gently. Her arms were cold, but he didn’t mind. He hugged her back, savoring the moment. Eventually she pulled away.

  “Thanks,” she whispered. She stared at him for a moment – making him feel all sorts of strange and wonderful things – and then patted him on the shoulder. “You're tired,” she observed. “You should get some sleep.”

  “Aren't you tired?” Kyle asked. Ariana shook her head.

  “No,” she answered. “I'm not tired at all.” Then she looked worried. “I don't know if I need sleep anymore,” she added. The thought seemed to bother her greatly, and she turned onto her back, covering her mouth with one hand, staring up at the ceiling.

  “It's okay,” Kyle said, giving her a wink. “I feel better with you watching over me.” That got a smile out of her.

  “I won't let anyone hurt you,” she promised.

  “Does that include you?” Kyle pressed, smirking. Ariana smirked back.

  “No promises,” she replied. “Now get some sleep.”

  Kyle complied, already feeling his eyelids getting heavy. He closed his eyes, visions of floating islands flashing in his mind's eye, of tiny fish blinking to and fro in a giant aquarium. It wasn't long before sleep claimed him, bringing a much-needed end to what had literally – and figuratively – been the longest day of his life.

  Chapter 24

  Dark clouds hover high above the ruins of Stridon, rain pouring down on the glowing embers of shattered buildings. The Behemoth towers over the wreckage, its diamond-shaped eye glowing a bright, sickly green in the darkness of the night. Its eye flashes, another beam of deadly light shooting outward toward a few untouched buildings nearby, burning through the stone with terrifying ease. The rain falls on the red-hot rubble, stream rising into the air around the Behemoth's massive legs.

  Ampir stands on the slick roof of Stridon Penitentiary, watching the Behemoth as its beam fades, its domed head turning to find another target. The muscles in his broken shoulder spasm, and he grits his teeth, taking short, quick breaths.

  Focus.

  With a thought, he rises into the air above the roof, then accelerates forward. The city passes by underneath him, a seemingly endless landscape of destruction. Huge silver airships fly far above, just below the dark clouds. Smaller ships fly closer to the ground, pulses of green light firing from their turrets, destroying any buildings that still stand. Ampir spots a group of people running down the street away from one of the smaller ships. Survivors trying to flee the city.

  They're hunting everyone down, he realizes. And destroying every building.

  This isn't a war...it's an extermination.

  Ampir veers off after the small airship hunting the fleeing civilians, picking up speed rapidly. He catches up with the ship easily, hanging back a hundred feet or so, then centering it within his visor's field of view. With a thought, he activates a few runes on the visor.

  A large gravity shield appears directly below the airship, yanking it downward. It flies full-speed into the ground, shattering in a cloud of dust and debris, well clear of the fleeing citizens.

  Ampir shoots past the wreckage, seeing more small airships flying over the city. He looks up, spotting dozens more of them coming out of one of the huge airships above, spilling out of docking bays on the huge airship's sides.

  He ignores the smaller airships, activating another set of runes; he feels a vibration in his skull, the telltale sign of the invisibility field being activated around him. While useless against a Weaver, the field might fool the smaller airships; he flies upward toward the huge airship, accelerating quickly until he is only a few hundred feet below it. The smaller airships ignore him, diving toward the city, then leveling out a few dozen feet above the streets.

  He faces the huge airship above, spotting the telltale blue gravity shield surrounding the ship's hull, covering it like a second skin. To anyone else, its shield would be nearly impenetrable.

  Ampir flies up to the airship's right flank, stopping a foot away from its metallic hull. The runes on his right gauntlet glow bright blue; he punches his fist through the ship's gravity shield, his armor automatically nullifying its effects. He tears through the metallic hull, ripping a large hole in it with his good arm, then squeezes through to the ship's interior.

  He finds himself standing in a long hallway.

  The interior of the ship is bare-bones, with grated metal floors and ceilings, and walls made of thick white fabric pulled across thick metal beams...nothing at all like the sleek exterior. It was made quickly, and cheaply...evidence of the enemy's limited resources. Sabin had made the most of what little he'd had.

  Ampir deactivates his invisibility field, then shoves his fist through the fabric wall in front of him, ripping a hole in it and stepping through. He finds himself in another long hallway. Two men are walking toward him, and freeze, their eyes widening as they spot him.

  “Hi,” Ampir greets.

  He raises his right hand, a beam of white light bursting from it. The beam takes the men's heads clean off, burning a hole in the wall beyond. Both men slump to the floor lifelessly, nothing left of their heads but the blackened stumps of their necks.

  Ampir walks up to another wall on the opposite side of the hallway, ripping through it and stepping through. This time he finds himself in a massive chamber dropping several stories down. Row after row of small airships are docked here...the same kind as the ones he'd seen hunting the civilians below earlier. He scans them quickly; he can destroy them all one-by-one, or...

  He spots a bright blue glow on the opposite side of the huge chamber, coming from behind another white fabric wall.

  M
agic!

  He activates his armor, flying above the grated metal floor, passing between rows of small airships, making his way toward the opposite end of the chamber. He reaches the fabric wall on the other end, ripping through it and stepping into the room beyond.

  The room is twenty feet squared, the floors and walls similar to the hallways he'd just passed through. In the center of the room, however, is a truly massive crystal. Over ten feet high and half as wide, the uncut, unpolished crystal stands on a metallic base. Countless wires connect to that base, extending in all directions across the floor, some of them climbing the metal beams on the walls. The crystal glows a bright blue, evidence of the enormous amount of magic stored within. This must be the main power source for the massive ship, he realizes.

  “Hey!”

  Two black-robed Weavers step out from behind the crystal, gravity shields appearing around them. One of them points a staff at Ampir, a bolt of electricity shooting out from it and slamming into him. His armor deflects the attack effortlessly, automatically generating a counterattack. The Weaver's shields vanish, two gravity fields appearing around him...one from the waist up, the other from the waist down. The gravity fields pull in opposite directions violently.

  The Weaver splits in half at the waist, his intestines spilling out onto the floor.

  The other Weaver stumbles backward, staring at his comrade in horror.

  “No,” he begs, raising his arms up. “I...”

  Ampir leaps toward the Weaver, slamming his gauntleted fist through the man's gravity shields and into his face. Bones crumple with the impact, the Weaver flying backward and slamming into one of the metallic support beams behind him. He falls to the floor, his limbs twitching once, then going still.

  Ampir ignores the fallen Weavers, stepping over the wires on the floor and up to the massive crystal in the center of the room. He stares at its unpolished surface, realizing that it's a diamond. A single, massive diamond, larger than any he's ever seen. It could only have come from one of the legendary mines in the land far west of Stridon, across the ocean.