City of Delusions (The Dying World Book 2)

by John Triptych

  “Enough of this,” Elevis said as she picked up the spear lying on the ground and walked towards them. Standing over Miri, she held the spear point above her head before plunging it down towards Miri’s torso.

  Rion saw the attack coming as the young Striga walked up to them. Somewhere in the back of his own mind, he still had a tiny reserve of Vis, and he quickly thought of something that would somehow save Miri. Just as Elevis thrust the spear in a downward motion, Rion diverted the weapon’s direction with his mindforce. Elevis inadvertently lurched forward and the spear came down onto the boy’s lower chest instead.

  Miri let out a tiny wail as she saw what had happened. Rion gasped as the spear point tore just below his ribcage, blood spurting out from his wound, and a few crimson drops splashed onto Miri’s face. Elevis was shocked at what she had done, and quickly backed away after pulling the spear out. Rion could barely breathe as the weapon had penetrated his lungs, and the subsequent pullout left an open, sucking wound. The boy began to cough as his breaths became shallower. Elevis continued to back away in dismay until she bumped the sides of the wall. This wasn’t part of the plan. She had been told specifically not to hurt the boy, just use him as bait for the others.

  The pain in the boy’s chest gave him a momentary sense of awareness. Rion placed his hands around Miri’s neck as he put his mouth underneath hers. Then he started coughing up small amounts of sanguine fluid. Miri had been too stunned to react, inadvertently swallowed a bit of the boy’s blood before falling on top of him.

  After a few minutes of confusion, Elevis had begun to realize what had just happened. Gripping the spear in a downward position, she ran forward until she once again stood over the two people on the ground. As Elevis thrust the spear down at her, Miri suddenly turned to face the young Striga and deflected the attack with her bracers, before kicking the young girl in the stomach. Elevis fell backwards and landed into a row of otus plants, completely crushing them.

  Zeren held his sword in a high guard position as he circled his opponent. While Vytor’s torso was more heavily armored than his own, both men didn’t wear any helms, and so an attack against the head or the neck would be the best strategy, he figured. The only problem was that his enemy probably deduced the same thing when it came to him.

  Vytor took a step forward and thrust his sword towards Zeren’s face, but Grimgrin sidestepped past the blow and jabbed at Vytor’s sword arm. The point of Zeren’s blade did hit his hand, but Vytor wore heavily armored gauntlets and it failed to wound him. With his opponent much closer than ever, Vytor used a bit of his Vis reserves to charge sideways with a powerful push, throwing his armored shoulder into Zeren’s chest. The force of the blow hurled Zeren backwards and he ended up sprawled on the stone floor. Vytor stepped forward again as he delivered a downward thrust at Zeren’s upper leg with his weapon.

  Zeren used a bit of his own Vis to slide his body on the ground, and Vytor’s sword thrust ended up chipping the marble floor where his leg had just been lying in. With a curse, Zeren swung the blade at his opponent’s head, but Vytor put his left arm up and his vambrace was able to parry the blow. Zeren rolled along the smooth ground, away from his opponent’s threat range before getting back up.

  Vytor continued to move forward as he kept raining blows against Zeren’s parries. His opponent was highly aggressive, and Zeren continued to give ground until the main altar was in between them. Vytor tried to run around the obstacle, but Zeren continued to evade in the opposite direction, and it soon felt like two children playing a game of tag around a stone monument.

  “You craven coward,” Vytor hissed. “Stand and fight!”

  “If only you had more quickness than a one-legged canis, then perhaps you would have caught up to me by now,” Zeren said. He had encountered Vytor a few times before during his career as a brigand, but this was the first time they had actually fought. He had come to know that Vytor had a very aggressive fighting style, and he was formulating a plan to take advantage of it.

  Vytor roared with rage as he used a bit of Vis to leap up on top of the altar. Zeren used his mindforce to somersault backwards, and he was now on the lower steps, away from the shrine. Vytor scowled as he ran down the stone steps, his sword once again thrusting forward before Zeren parried the latest blow. Vytor used his mindforce to slide ahead, and was completely surprised when Zeren helped him out by using his powers to thrust him even further. Vytor shrieked as he had gone too far forward and his stance was out of balance. Zeren kicked him on the side of his torso, and it sent him tumbling sideways down onto the ground.

  Zeren started laughing as he stood a few feet away. “You call yourself a Magus? I have not seen a display of such woeful skill since that time they let loose a blind man into the arena.”

  Seething with rage, Vytor quickly got up and charged again, this time using his Vis to hold Zeren in place. Surprised at this sudden attack, Zeren was unable to sidestep and both men collided with one another, their parrying swords pushed up against each other’s chests. Vytor roared as he used his girth to force Zeren up against a stone pillar. Zeren thrust out his forehead in between the crossed blades, hitting the bridge of Vytor’s nose. The Magus yelled out in pain as he staggered backwards, finally allowing Zeren some room to maneuver.

  There was a metal cup on top of a nearby stone table and Zeren used his Vis to float it up in the air. Just as Vytor began to charge at him again, he used his mindforce to hold it just above his opponent’s head. “Look above you,” Zeren said.

  Vytor made a quick glance above, but reacted too late when the cup came crashing down on him. The metal base of the chalice was crushed by the force of the blow, and Vytor dropped his sword before falling on his knees, disorientated and half-conscious. Gripping the middle part of the blade for a more precise attack with his other hand, Zeren ran forward and thrust his sword at the side of Vytor’s neck, severing his artery. The Magus let out a gurgling rattle as he fell to his side and began to bleed out.

  “You Magi really need to practice your dueling skills more,” Zeren said before he turned and headed towards the stairwell.

  The boy’s blood had begun to restore the powers that had been taken from her. Miri’s mind started to coalesce as the severed nerves in her cerebral cortex had proceeded to repair themselves. Missing and damaged cells in her brain were being quickly regenerated, even the hole at the back of her skull had undergone a regrowth of bone matter. It was as if the mindsense was a gift that had been taken from her, only to be given back, and now it was stronger than ever. The invisible spores around her were still having an effect, but Miri’s control over her own body had improved, and she could now feel her extremities.

  Elevis was still distracted. She had been totally unprepared for what had just happened, and was unsure of what to do next. Knowing that she was in a vulnerable state, she started to get up. The gas mask she wore had been partially knocked out of place from her fall, and she could only see out of one eye slit. Elevis still had the spear in her hands, so she felt confident enough to deal with the immediate threat.

  Miri had seen the younger girl get up, and her spear was still held by her opponent. Miri quickly ran up to Elevis and tried to make a grab for the weapon. Both women struggled as their hands gripped the spear shaft, each trying to wrestle the weapon away from the other. The two of them started pushing each other back and forth, their desperate clash knocking down the otus plants that lay around them.

  Despite being slightly taller than her enemy, Miri knew she didn’t have much time. Even though her mind was slowly being repaired, the effect of the mutant plants around her was sapping the strength away from her arms, and Elevis very nearly succeeded in tearing away the spear from her grip. Miri was in a bind, if she waited a bit longer, her restored mindsense would come into focus once again, but her constant intake of breaths continued to inhale more of the debilitating effects of the otus plants.

  Elevis sensed her enemies’ trepidation. Her mental tendrils had bee
n observing Miri’s mind, and the young Striga was shocked at the apparent return of her adversary’s mindsense. Miri’s mind had once been like an open sieve, but within a matter of seconds there were now unassailable mental blocks that made the probing of her thoughts nearly impossible. Elevis knew that it would just be a matter of time before Miri would be able to utilize her full powers and she needed to strike now. Gathering her remaining supply of Vis into a tight mental ball of energy, Elevis used her own mind to hurl it into the brain of her opponent.

  The resulting attack completely overwhelmed Miri’s still feeble mental blocks. The pain was crushing as she screamed in agony and fell on her back, her hands completely letting go of the spear she had been struggling to take from her enemy. The neural pathways in her nervous system completely smothered the control centers in her brain with an unrelenting flood of suffering. Miri tried to cry out as blood seeped from her nostrils and ears, but all she could muster was a short croak. Her vision began to dim, but Miri gathered her remaining sense of determination to hang on. She adamantly refused to be defeated, for the chance to reunite with Rion was right there, all she had to do was to keep fighting. It was the one thought she still held close to her heart and it just about kept her from closing her eyes and accepting defeat.

  Elevis straightened her gas mask so that she could have a clear sense of vision at what was happening in front of her. This time she needed to finish this. Stooping over Miri, Elevis kept a wide stance as she plunged the tip of the spear into her opponent’s chest. The younger Striga was still somewhat slow as Miri suddenly grabbed onto the tip of the spear with her hands, slowing it just enough so that the point of the weapon was just inches from her body. Elevis grimaced in frustration as she leaned forward, throwing the full weight of her own self to bring the spear down. Miri was unable to maintain her strength, but she somehow had the determination to slightly pivot the angle of attack, and the spear plunged along her side instead, her ribcage partially deflecting its penetration.

  Miri groaned in agony as the spear embedded itself along her right side, tearing away the skin along her ribs before the point of the weapon was thrust into the brown soil. Even though her palms were bleeding, she had a solid grip on the shaft, preventing Elevis from pulling the weapon out and attacking her with it again.

  Elevis was sweating inside her mask, and the fog over the lenses of the goggles had made it harder to see. The spear was stuck in the ground, and that accursed barbarian Striga held it tightly, using her own body as an additional leverage. Her muffled curses made it hard to hear herself speak. “Will you just die already?”

  Miri knew she had to do something, or else all was lost. Gazing at the boy lying beside her, she extended her mindsense until she could feel the wound in his stomach, which kept him barely awake. It was clear that Rion’s mind was still active, but the boy could not move his body because of the effect of the spores. Miri’s used her mindsense to extend her psyche over to Rion’s mind, giving the boy some additional inner resolve to act.

  Rion was unable to move his limbs, but Miri’s contributing mental power had allowed him to gather up more Vis to use as an attack. The boy felt that even if he could hurl it against Elevis, it would not be enough to injure Miri’s opponent enough to incapacitate her. He had one chance, and it needed to be at the right target. Rion soon realized that the true enemy that was holding them back was the plants in this accursed garden. Peering up above, he saw that the ceiling was made of glass, to bring in the sunlight to make the plants grow during the day. That was the solution. Within the blink of an eye, Rion used all of his remaining mindforce and hurled it upwards into the canopy above. The middle of the glass ceiling shattered immediately, sending little shards of broken crystal down upon them.

  A foot-long shard of edged glass pointed itself downwards and fell onto Elevis’s back, impaling the young Striga near the side of her spine. Elevis cried out in pain as she fell sideways, leaving the spear shaft upright. The wind from the broken ceiling flowed through the room, clearing away much of the plant spores into the clear, star-filled night.

  With his sense of feeling rapidly returning to his body, Rion sat up. The boy could see that Miri was seriously injured as she continued to lay there. The one they called the Red Gorgon gave the boy a thin smile before she closed her eyes.

  Elevis got up on her knees as she reached behind her back and tore the bloody shard loose from her backside. She turned to the boy’s direction, threw her mask off and hissed at him. “May the gods take your soul!”

  Rion scowled at her while he lifted his right arm and gestured. Elevis screamed as she was hurled backwards into the air, smashing through what was left of the ceiling before disappearing into the night.

  Chapter 18

  When the sporemen entered into the fray, the mercenaries who had made it through the gate began to waver. Backed by the remaining Magi, the glassy-eyed men advanced into the shocked ranks of mercenaries, who were now in a state of dismay as they had recognized a fair number of former members of their own outfits. As the battle raged, even more hirelings lost their morale when it was clear that the attacks on these sporemen had almost no effect. Even after losing a hand or an arm, the mindless ones continued to fight, as if pain or injury didn’t matter. When the mercenaries started taking even more casualties, many of them turned and fled. What had begun as the final assault now by the attackers had quickly turned into a slow retreat as the mercenaries had lost their nerve. Ujurok extolled his men to fight on, but his orders were now being ignored. Howling with rage, Ujurok stabbed one of the men who was making his way out. The other mercenaries saw what had happened, and they turned on him. Ujurok was able to kill five of his own before his underlings ran him through, leaving him mortally wounded on the ground.

  Just as the last of the mercenaries had begun to retreat past the gate, small clusters of men emerged from the shadows behind the Magi and their glassy-eyed sporemen. These others had entered the compound from the sewers, and so the Magi had completely overlooked them. Many were equipped with strange weapons called guns, and they took careful aim before they unleashed their first volley, many of them striking both the Magi and the mindless ones in their heads, causing huge losses as the shocked defenders whirled to face their newest foes.

  Inside the reliquary, Matriarch Cirine jerked her head up in surprise. “Something is wrong.”

  Standing not far from her was Nylius. He was poring over a leather bound map on a stone table a few paces away with his two Magi assistants. They were coordinating the defense of the compound. “What?” he asked, walking over to her side.

  Cirine had been mentally controlling the hordes of mindless ones to support the Magi, but now she was losing touch with many of them. “Another set of enemies has emerged behind us. They are using guns, and they know how to kill our sporemen.”

  Nylius’s eyes opened wide. His renegade brother must have given the guns to a third faction. But who? “Can you discern who they are?”

  Cirine was able to see through the eyes of the mindless ones. “They are dressed in tattered rags. They must be from the League of the Sewer. Yes, it would make sense for them to emerge from old underground tunnels to surprise us.”

  “Can you hold them?” Nylius asked.

  Cirine frowned. “Just barely. I have made the sporemen take cover so that they would not be shot by those weapons. There are less than a dozen Magi with them left. It would be best if you called your Striga here, for two with the gift of mindsense would have a better chance of coordinating against our enemies.”

  Nylius gave her a quizzical expression. “Since you have mindsense, why do you not call her here?”

  Cirine looked at him blankly. “I can no longer sense her … wait. She is … calling out to you.”

  Nylius grimaced. Elevis was supposed to join them here by now. “Where is she?”

  “She is … on the roof of the Grand Temple.”

  Nylius was aghast. What was she doing up there? Look
ing up at one of the tall, open windows of the hall, he used his mindforce to propel himself upwards onto the windowsill. From there, he climbed on top of the mantle before using another spurt of Vis to get up onto the stone roof. His vantage point at the top did not paint a very good picture of the battle below. He could see his men taking cover from behind stone columns and the low walls in the surrounding courtyards, but the renegade slaves were slowly hemming them in. Every time one of the mindless ones poked their heads out, they would be met by a fusillade of accurate, crackling fire from the guns that those accursed league slaves were using.

  Just as Nylius had contemplated on dropping down onto the avenue below to personally lead his men, he heard a soft moan coming from the other end of the massive roof. Turning around, he used his Vis to propel himself forward with short jumps as he leapt over a number of jutting parapets. The full moon was out, and it gave him sufficient illumination despite the lack of fires and torches at the top of the roof. When he got to within visual sight, his worst fears were realized. “Elevis!” he yelled while sprinting ahead until he got close to her.

  She was sprawled along the slanted portion of the roof, pieces of shiny glass all around her. Elevis was lying on her back, and her body was contorted in such a way that it was clear her spine had been broken. Her eyes were open and clear, blood seeping from her mouth and nostrils. She gave him a faint smile when their eyes met for the last time.

  Nylius knelt down beside her, cradling her head in his arms. “Hush now. Do not say a word, I shall have the healer here in mere moments.”

  Her voice was a shrill whisper. “I … am … sorry.”

  Nylius stroked her smooth forehead. “There is nothing to atone for.”

  Elevis’s breathing became fainter. “The boy … his Vis. The barbarian … Striga.”