by Phil Tucker
“Take it easy, Worthington!” I hurried back up the steps, through the bedroom and up into the third chamber. A crowd of naked men within the summoning circle immediately began to shriek and claw at the invisible walls. Each of them was me, wounded and caked in filth, all of them with their manhoods torn off and teeth ripped from their bloody, gummy mouths. They howled and begged, and I stumbled, nearly spilling both champagne buckets. Just as quickly the crowd disappeared, replaced by the laughing golden-haired youth lying on his chaise once more.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just fucking with you.”
Wide-eyed, I chose not to respond. Staring fixedly at the top of the stairs, I ran back into the uppermost chamber, the illusion kicking in as I exited so that the steps were gone when I turned back around. Heart pounding, I put that nightmarish image firmly away and moved to the door. A couple of goblins were stumbling along the parapet toward me, arguing over a wineskin. I Double Stepped past them to the goblin tower, then completed my passage through the shadows by emerging beside the spider tower door.
I listened carefully once again before making a move, giving my Astute Observer skill a chance to pick up on any danger, then pulled the door open once more and peered at my friends below. “I’m back! Hold on. Going to try something.”
Then, carefully – oh so carefully – I poured the contents of one of the buckets down the inside of the wall. A film of bubbles and water sluiced down the great stone blocks, followed immediately by the contents of the second bucket. I watched, holding my breath, as the soapy water raced and coursed down the three floors, separating into three main arms that grew thinner and thinner before washing over the runes directly below me.
“It work?” I whispered. “That rub them out?”
“I think so?” Michaela was leaning forward, squinting at the walls. “Chalk’s all messed up.”
“All right. We’ll deal with your bindings once we’re outside. Ready?”
They both nodded, and I took a deep breath. This was it. Just to be on the safe side, I activated Mute Presence, then Double Stepped into the base of the tower.
And it all went wrong.
11
When I appeared on the tower floor, the runes along the wall flared into blinding white as if each had been cut through the stone to reveal the surface of the sun just beyond.
“Go,” shouted Falkon, struggling with his bonds. “Go now!”
I grabbed hold of Michaela and pulled her into the darkness with me, casting Shared Darkness just as a form began to coalesce in the air above our heads. The blinding light was muffled then erased by the shadows, and we emerged a second later on the grassy bank just outside the castle wall.
“It didn’t work,” gasped Michaela. “I recognized it. A binding spell. We foiled it.”
“Then what was that? The thing appearing in the air?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head, eyes wide. “Another spell? I don’t know.”
“I’m going back for Falkon. Hang tight.”
“Chris—”
I Double Stepped back into the shadows and emerged a moment later within the tower. The brilliant light had faded away, but with Darkvision I could easily make out the floating entity that had appeared in my wake.
Tall, elegant, ethereal, otherworldly – its skin was pure white and its body was wreathed in broad bands of white cloth that emanated from between its shoulder blades, each one terminating in a hollow disc of the purest gold. More discs floated about its ankles and wrists, while a massive corona of gold – like gilt spiderweb – hovered behind its head, which was an abstract deconstruction of a skull, seamed with gold and without eyes. It was at once angelic and terrifying, a symbol of purity and power, and it oriented on me the moment I stepped out of the shadows.
“Chris, run!” Falkon’s scream tore through the air as two of the white scarves slipped into place, golden discs overlapping, their interiors immediately lighting up with a terrible light that shot at me with the sound of a massive choir in rapturous song.
I instinctively completed my Double Step, throwing myself back into the shadows just as the golden beam sliced through where I’d been. Not having picked a destination, I was spat back out above the angel, emerging on the ledge where eons ago Falkon had been trapped by the spider dude’s web attack.
“Blammo!” I yelled, pointing my bull ring at the angel, and a torrent of force poured forth from my fist, the air undulating as a hurricane roar filled the tower’s interior. The angel whirled around, all of its scarves curling before it to form a shield, its arms crossed in an ‘X’ before its head. The force of my attack drove it back almost to the wall, but even as it was being blasted it looped three rings over each other and I heard a heavenly host cry out in song.
I dove off the ledge, activating Expert Leaper as I did so, the world incandescing above me as the angel’s laser nearly took off my head. My dive turned into a tumble, and mid-fall I summoned my Ebon Tendrils, causing them to writhe up out of the ground around the angel and ensnare it by the legs.
I landed in a crouch, one palm flat on the ground, then charged, drawing the Void Blade and holding it out to the side. The angel surged up against my Tendrils and shattered them both, rising high overhead with gobbets of shadow falling from its ankles and shins.
I jumped, Expert Leaper still in effect, and activated Bleeding Attack as I careened up to collide with the angel. Its broad scarves whipped into place, forming a shield and overlapping the rings just as I brought my Void Blade swinging through them. I willed for the sword to shift it turned into the stuff of shadow, passing through the scarves and into the angel’s body.
Two of its golden rings overlapped at the same time, and golden light burst forth – but I’d already Double Stepped away, disappearing just in time to step out high within the tower. Stolen strength surged into me as I crouched on the lip of stone that protruded from the doorway I’d peered down from but minutes ago. The angel reeled, scarves parting to reveal a deep gash from its hip to its shoulder.
The gash closed over and it looked up at me with unerring confidence.
Shit.
Then the angel simply disappeared.
I blinked, straightened, and completed my Double Step down to Falkon’s side. “C’mon,” I said, reaching for his shoulder. “Time to—”
“Behind you!”
I dove straight at the tower wall, Double Stepping away and appearing on the ledge halfway up the tower. The angel had returned, and this time it had brought someone with it. A leather coat that was black at the hood and gradated to crimson at the hem, both clawed hands glowing with searing, volcanic heat.
Makarios the battlemage.
I flicked on my character sheet then dismissed it. Twenty out of thirty-six mana left. I was still in this fight. I activated Uncanny Aim and Pin Down as I hurled a dagger at Makarios, then completed my Double Step to the ground below.
I emerged from the shadows just as a golden laser flashed up at where I’d been. Makarios’ arm was swinging still, having just batted my dagger away. I ran forward, summoning Night Shroud as I went.
The entirety of the tower’s base suddenly filled with darkness, causing Makarios’ massive claws to dim and the angel to immediately fly straight up and out into the normal gloom.
I grinned, activating Adrenaline Surge to put as much kick behind my attack as I could muster, but just before I could close with Makarios he stomped on the stone floor as if seeking to shatter it.
A shockwave of power exploded out from his foot, picking me up off the ground and hurling me back. I tried to Double Step but couldn’t gather my wits before colliding with the wall. I bounced off stone, the wind driven completely out of me, and fell to all fours, heaving for air.
The stomp had also shredded my Night Shroud such that wisps of it were shrinking into tattered rags. Makarios gave a sharp bark of laughter and be
gan marching in my direction, his huge claws dripping gobbets of lava.
A premonition hit me and I looked up just in time to see the angel overlap three of its golden rings. A blinding flash of light filled the air and only my Adrenaline Surged system allowed me to throw myself aside in a roll. ‘Throw’ might be too grand a word. More like topple. The golden beam caught me in the shoulder, spinning me around as it delivered a scalding burn to my flesh. I caught a brief flare of blue over the invisible forcefield my armor ring provided me as I fell; enough to tell that it had saved me from having my arm surgically sliced away.
There was no time to catch my breath. Strength and stolen power still flooding through my system, I came up to my feet just as Makarios charged me, swiping with both massive claws at my torso. I reflexively parried with the Void Blade, but in my panic willed it into shadow form; it passed straight through Makarios’ hand, causing him to shriek in pain even as he slammed his other blades into my ribs.
Pain. I spun away and collapsed again. I hated to think what might have happened without my armor ring. Without my spider silk shirt. Without my stone cloak. Even so, every breath that I now managed to hitch caused stabbing pain in my side; it felt like two or three ribs had broken, and I could feel hot blood running down to pool along the hem of my pants.
“Get out!” I barely registered Falkon’s scream. My eyes were locked on Makarios, who was staring at his hand, claws flopping as he shook it in fury.
“What did you do?” He glared at his fist, but it refused his commands. “What did you do?!”
I climbed to my feet once more. Above me, the angel was deliberately overlapping three, four, five rings. Makarios stared at me, eyes wide with a lunatic fury. He pointed the palm of his functional hand at me, which immediately began to burn with actual flames, giving off a wicked plume of sooty smoke even as his claw tips burned white.
Uh-oh.
I grabbed my cloak and hauled it before me, croaking “Petrify,” just before Makarios unleashed a livid bolt of screaming flame and the angel blasted me from above with six rings to the sound of a cathedral filled with fervent choristers.
The cloak crackled and hardened and then I was lifted off the ground and thrown back as if I’d been hit by a freight train. I hit the tower door and blasted through it, shattering the timbers and flying out into the bailey in a coruscating explosion of crimson and gold. I tumbled, bounced, rolled, and fetched up against the back of Lickit’s throne. My cloak was a shattered quilt of rock, fragments of which were glowing like coals plucked from the fire.
I tried to stand and failed. I coughed, and blood spattered across the floor. Something was terribly wrong with my hips. Three versions of Makarios stepped out through the broken doorway, and a moment later three angels floated out after him.
Warmth spread through my body from the periapt of health around my neck, and my wounds began to itch as they healed. Amazing as it was, the rapid healing was too slow.
“What you doing here?” Shaman Lickit had climbed onto his throne and was peering down at me over its top.
I ignored him and patted my side. Please don’t let it be broken. There. Barfo’s super soup. I fell down to my shoulder so as to liberate both hands and unscrewed the lid.
“You messed up big time, boy.” I couldn’t see Makarios’ eyes. They were hidden under his cowl, but his grin was wide enough to appear serpentine. “I’m going to enjoy paying you back for this. Oh, yes. You’re going to be begging for death by the time I’m done.”
“I believe you,” I gasped, then chugged the soup, wolfing it down in desperate gulps. I don’t think I’ve ever pounded a beer faster. There was no time for quips. The angel floated up and overhead. Makarios had nearly reached me when I finished the soup and tossed it aside.
“For level ten, you got some bite,” said the battlemage, “but ya gotta be out of juice. That’s what you get for—”
I dropped another Night Shroud and immediately followed it up with Ebon Tendrils, directing them to snarl around Makarios’ legs, gripping them tight. I dove forward, feeling the soup already taking effect, smoothing away the pain, allowing my continuing Adrenaline Surge to help me through the worst of it.
Makarios wasn’t done. He raised his fist and a web of flaming filaments filled the Shroud. Wherever the brands burned, the shadow shrank away. I staggered to a halt before I could cut myself in half, and then a bolt of golden light surged down through the Shroud, slamming into me and causing the world to turn white.
I must have passed out briefly, because the next thing I knew I was lying on the ground. The armor ring had seared the skin around my finger, and the periapt was frantically pulsing waves of heat into my body. I could feel the last of Barfo’s soup invigorating me from within, and the hood of my stone cloak was in tatters around my badly burned face.
Makarios tore his burning claws through the last of the Tendrils and stepped free with obvious annoyance, turning to kick at the shadowy stumps before they disappeared. High above, the angel placed its two largest rings above each other, resulting in a broad beam of light that covered our immediate area like a cone, banishing all darkness.
It was hard to think. I tried to Shadow Step, but the angel’s light prevented me from doing so. A column of shadow fell over me as Makarios stepped next to my head.
“I was going to save you for Delphina, but you’re too fucking annoying. End of the road, kid.”
He extended his palm, which began to glow white hot. He was going to do that fire bolt thing again. Just then, Adrenaline Surge gave out on me, and the pain I was feeling doubled and then redoubled again as nausea caused me to turn onto my side and spew what was left of Barfo’s soup onto the battlemage’s boots.
“You serious?” Makarios danced back in disgust. “You don’t stop! These are my favorite fuckin’ boots!” He pointed his palm at me again and unleashed his bolt of flame.
At the last second, I thought of my belt. Just before Makarios’ flame incinerated me, I activated the belt’s shadow power, and his flame passed right through me to splatter against the bailey floor.
Cool relief flooded my system as the agony of my body and Adrenaline Surge faded away, leaving me sharp and focused. Brianna had warned me I had ten or so seconds. There was no time to waste.
On instinct, I tried to Shadow Step. Despite the angel’s light, despite the fading glow of Makarios’ fire blast, I slipped away as easily as if I’d been hidden in the darkest recess of the blackest shadow.
I appeared thirty yards above the bailey floor, right behind the angel. I summoned Night Shroud, then summoned it again. The angel’s reactions were superb; it immediately dropped its arms to its sides as it sought to fly straight up once more, but I caught it with Ebon Tendrils, summoning them from within the layered Shroud. Twice. Four tentacles emerged from the darkness to wrap around the angel, clasping it tight.
With great reluctance, I dropped my shadow form, and was immediately hit with an overpowering wave of pain. I was already swinging my arms, however, the Void Blade grasped in both hands, and brought its edge straight through the angel’s neck.
It spasmed, shaking violently within its constraints, and then simply disappeared. I fell, nearly delirious with pain, and managed to Double Step away just before punching out the bottom of the Night Shroud.
I appeared within the spider tower and collapsed beside Falkon. He started to speak, to protest, but I reached out, still shuddering with nausea, and grabbed his boot. I cast Shared Darkness and we both appeared a moment later outside the walls.
Michaela startled at our appearance. My XP chime sounded. She’d risen to her knees and sweat dripped from her brow. She’d clearly been trying to do something, escape from her bonds, perhaps, but to no avail.
“Chris, what the fuck?” Falkon sounded stunned. “How—?”
“No time,” I growled. It took all my remaining strength to push my
self up to my hands and knees, then slide the tip of the Void Blade under the ropes that bound his hands. With a grunt, I shoved it down and it sliced through the bonds as if they were putty.
“Those are anti-magic ropes,” said Michaela. “You can’t—”
I cut hers, too. “Falkon. Help me to the ravine’s edge.”
“How are you still breathing?” He slid an army gingerly under my own and levered me to my feet. He was watching the skies, however. “This is—I mean, Vanatos’ daemon—”
“Don’t worry about it,” I rasped. “Edge.”
Michaela got under my other arm and together we hurried to where I’d Shadow Stepped in all of – what, fifteen minutes ago? Once we reached it, I sighted up at the far ledge. “Michaela first.”
I didn’t give them time to respond. I burned three more mana on Shared Darkness and we both appeared high above, balanced precariously on the tapering end of the ridge.
“Head that way,” I rasped. “Be right back.”
I Double Stepped back down to Falkon, drew his blade so I could avail myself of its mana, then folded my Double Step into a Shared Darkness. Together we appeared high on the ridge. I summoned my character sheet.
In less than three minutes or whatever I’d burned through thirty or more points.
“I don’t see the daemon,” said Michaela. “What happened in there? I heard a bunch of screams and explosions—”
“Daemon’s gone,” I said. And then, miraculously, like the cool waters of benediction flowing over me, the side effects of Adrenaline Surge faded away. I grunted as I managed to stand a little straighter, but a blanket of pain still enveloped me. The periapt was pouring its healing into me, but even so the burns across my scalp and shoulders was blisteringly insane. “We’ve got to go. Brianna’s waiting for us. Up ahead.”
“Gone?” Falkon blinked and then slipped under my arm again to help me along the ridge. “What the hell do you mean, ‘gone’? It’s a nearly level thirty greater daemon. Did it just lose interest or something?”