She stroked her sword hilt and looked up at the millions of stars winking down at her from above while she tried to work out what had just happened.
Somehow a corpse had been reanimated. That was crazy enough. But then it had tried to attack her. And her sword. Her sword had lit up in the presence of evil. How had any of that happened?
The light against the darkness. Where had she heard that phrase before? It sounded familiar somehow. The sword was an instrument given to her by the lords of Light. If she accepted that premise, which she had to do considering all that had happened, then it stood to reason that it would respond to an evil creature like the zombie.
And that thing? What had made it move? Magic?
She smiled derisively for a moment, but the smile faded as she tried to judge things objectively, without prejudice.
Dragons were real; she knew that now. So were drakes and, obviously, paladins. The world had changed. She had Changed. Technology was no more. All she had to do was look around to be reminded of that. She couldn't even use a flashlight to help her see at night anymore; they simply did not work. Was it such a stretch to believe that the power of magic was real?
Whatever she wanted to call it, a new force had entered the world. Or reentered the world, if the old stories were to be believed. That force had rendered machines and computers, indeed all technical devices, useless. Humanity had been left defenseless to face the massive onslaught of the dragons. And now, as she had just seen, something else was happening. She wielded a sword that was, for all intents and purposes, magical. It would not stay dirty. It glowed in the presence of evil. It cut through enemies effortlessly.
And a corpse had just attacked her. As insane as that seemed, it had happened. And she was too practical and grounded to think that it had just been a dream or her imagination.
“So let's call it what it is,” she said softly as she watched a streak of light blaze across the heavens; a meteorite falling to its death. “Magic. The old world is no more. This new Earth has its own set of rules and, if I intend to survive in it, then I had better adapt to them as quickly as possible.”
At first light Liliana was moving again. She ate as she went, munching on peanut butter cookies that she had found at the mall. She hadn't slept all night, but shrugged it off, promising herself that her next night's camp would be in a more secure location.
She was finally approaching the downtown section of the city where all of the high-rise buildings had once loomed against the sky. All of them had fallen in the initial dragon attacks and she was soon climbing large hills made out of the broken concrete and melted glass of the towers. The footing was treacherous and her progress was slow, and she stopped every few minutes to look around for any signs of movement.
Some birds had returned to Moscow, quickly adapting to the broken city and setting up nests in its remains. Liliana watched a few flutter about. She was saddened by the sight for some reason, but was also pragmatic about it.
Nature carries on irregardless of tragedy, she thought as she listened to the birdsong echoing across the ruins. And maybe that is for the best.
Not all buildings were flattened. The worst hit had been the tallest ones. Two and three story structures were more or less intact, although their walls were filled with holes and all of their windows were shattered. Doors had been smashed in, probably by packs of hunting drakes, and there were bits of scattered clothing and belongings everywhere.
Liliana pushed away her depressed mood at the sight and carried on. She could change nothing and sights like the ones she was seeing would always be there. All she could do was to accept it and not give in to grief. It was hard though; it was very, very hard.
At high noon she stopped for lunch. The sun was directly overhead and the day had warmed up enough for her to pack up her jacket and roll up her sleeves. She sat on a pile of rubble and ate a tin of peaches as she idly scanned the area.
Where was Red Square, she wondered as she looked around. Northwest? There was so much scattered rubble and damage that it was impossible to tell. And St. Basil's Cathedral? Had it been razed too? Apparently so.
Had many people actually been downtown on the Night of Burning, she wondered as she looked around. Perhaps some people were still living in the area, but all businesses were closed once the electricity and waterworks ceased to function. Elevators didn't work and, if anyone lived downtown, finding fresh water for themselves would have been difficult. Not to mention the dangers of the roaming gangs that had appeared once law and order had broken down.
Anarchy had reigned briefly, Liliana remembered. Until the dragons came.
She pushed away the memories and stood up, brushing cement dust off of her pants. Time to get moving again.
She slowly climbed down the mound of broken concrete blocks that she had been resting on and glanced above the gaping doorway of a building as she walked past it. She stopped abruptly as she saw the word carved into the granite.
Muzei.
Museum, she thought excitedly. It's a museum!
Liliana walked up the broken steps to the doorway and peered inside. The sunlight was so bright that she could barely see into the shadows, but she could make out large blocks of stone that had fallen from the ceiling, broken tables and chairs and heaps of unidentifiable wreckage. But it looked safe enough and she went in, moving forward cautiously.
Once indoors, her eyes adjusted quickly. It helped that holes in the ceiling and walls let in beams of sunlight. To Liliana's relief, there was no evidence of human remains. She guessed that no one was in the building when the city fell.
She had never visited any of Moscow's museums, although she knew that her children had gone through some of them on school trips. So she had no idea if there was any ancient armor or weapons anywhere in the building.
Well, there is only one way to find out, she told herself. Search the entire place from top to bottom and see what I can find.
Liliana began her search on the top floor of the building. It was a struggle to climb the rubble-choked staircase and she slipped several times, scraping her palms and splitting a nail. She sucked on her finger as she reached the top of the stairs, mumbling a few choice curses under her breath.
The displays, exhibits and paintings were all mostly intact. A few of the heavy frames had fallen from the walls and an exhibit of manikins wearing old Russian clothing were leaning drunkenly in all directions. She couldn't find any weapons, armor or other useful items and heading back down the stairs after a fruitless search.
Looking through the other floors was just as futile and Liliana was sweaty and exhausted by the time she had returned to the entrance several hours later.
Hopeless, she thought wearily as she brushed the dust from her clothing. Absolutely hopeless. It's a shame that so many great works of art will be lost forever; our history is going to rot away and, if any future generations of Russians survive, they will forget so much. But what can I do about it?
She drank from her canteen and looked around one last time. A closed gray door on the other side of the lobby piqued her curiosity. Where did it lead?
Liliana walked over to it and pushed on the handle. It was locked.
“Fortunately I have the key,” she said with a little smile and she stepped back and slammed her shoulder against the door.
It crashed open, the sound echoing throughout the museum. She stopped and listened for a minute and then shrugged. There was no one around to hear it.
The door led to a set of stairs that descended into darkness and Liliana rolled her eyes at her own stupidity.
Of course they have underground storage areas, she thought irritably. Why didn't you think of that?
The problem was that she had no light. There was, however, a simple solution.
Liliana walked back through the main floor to an exhibit of sixteenth century royalty. She smiled at the fancy-dress manikins and plucked a half-dozen candles from a candelabra sitting on a dining table, then headed back to t
he basement stairs. She struck a match, lit one of the candles and slipped the others into her backpack. Then she started descending the stairs slowly, mindful of the dust and debris that slipped beneath her feet.
At the bottom of the stairs another door opened into a lobby with a freight elevator. Liliana guessed that this had been the receiving department. There was a large desk and a chair on the right, with a computer on top of it. It was covered over with a plastic sheet and she assumed it had been left like that when the power had finally died for good.
Inside an open elevator, a large crate was sitting forgotten and she held the candle closer to read the manifest on the side.
“Glassware and cutlery?” she read aloud. “Um, no thanks.”
Liliana walked past the desk and ran a finger idly across the top of it, leaving a ragged line behind in the dust. She wondered if a lot of the buildings downtown still had accessible basements. If they did, any survivors who returned to the city would have fairly secure shelter from the elements and from wandering dragons. She would keep that in mind.
A long wide hallway leading from the elevators was lined with heavy metal doors.
Vaults, she thought as she held up her candle. A dozen at least. Searching each one of them is going to take time.
She stood still and listened for a moment. The dark hall ahead was like the entrance to a gloomy cave and she was momentarily hesitant about moving forward.
Don't be such a coward, Liliana told herself angrily. This place is deserted and has been since before the dragons arrived. Get on with it. Night must be falling above.
With that encouragement, she stepped forward and approached the first vault.
Chapter 13
Each vault door was sealed with a heavy lock and Liliana had to go back to the lobby and search through the desk to find a ring of keys. Fortunately, the technology that had created locks and bolts still worked just fine and she was able to unlock the thick metal doors with some effort.
Inside of each vault were hundreds of items carefully wrapped, stacked and cataloged. Liliana looked at the daunting task ahead and let out a long, tired sigh. This was going to take all night.
Luckily for her, the artifacts were clearly labeled and she didn't have to start tearing each crate and packing box apart to find out what was inside. What slowed down her search was having to use the thin light of a candle to read by. She wished that she knew how to make a torch or could find a kerosene lantern, if they still worked, but she was stuck with the candles.
Paintings. Boxes and boxes of old clothing and decorations. Crates of fossils and dinosaur remains from prehistoric times. The list went on and on.
Hours passed and Liliana stopped when she had searched about half of the storerooms. She was tired, hungry and dusty and decided to try to get a few hours sleep before finishing up. She walked back down to the lobby and dusted off the chair behind the desk before sitting down with a tired groan.
Paladin or not, her back was burning with fatigue. She took off her pack and pulled out her canteen, drinking from it thirstily. She wasn't really hungry and decided to wait until she had rested before eating anything.
She blew out her candle, plunging the basement into darkness and closed her eyes, still listening intently for any noises that were out of the ordinary. The sounds of the building settling above her were disconcerting, but natural and she eventually drifted off into a troubled sleep.
When she woke up again, Liliana had to grope through her pack for a box of matches to light a candle. She lit it, dribbled some wax on the top of the desk and then set the candle upright in the hot liquid. Then she stood up and stretched slowly, wincing at the stabbing pains in her back. Sleeping on an office chair might not have been the best idea.
She ate some canned fruit, emptied her canteen and found a corner to use to answer nature's call. Then she picked up the candle and carried on with her search.
As she finished with each room, Liliana became more and more discouraged. It was becoming apparent to her that there was nothing here that she could use. With the threats that she would undoubtedly face going forward, some sort of armor would be useful, but she had seen no sign of any, or of any other weapons except useless guns and old muskets. She was wasting her time.
One more vault, she thought as she moved down the hallway to the next closed door. If there's nothing of any use in here, I'm leaving. I have to find water anyway, and I have to keep looking for survivors.
She muscled the stiff lock open and shoved against the door. The hinges squealed as it opened reluctantly and she stepped inside and held up her candle.
“Whoa!” she exclaimed and stepped back in surprise. Then she chuckled at herself as she stared at the source of her sudden stab of fear.
In the center of the room was a large exhibit covered with a canvas tarp. It had loomed tall and menacing in the thin light of the candle and for a moment she had thought that it was some sort of monster. Now she grabbed the edge of the thick cloth and pulled back on it. The tarp slipped off and she staggered back out of the room as a cloud of dust rose to choke her and fill her eyes with grit.
“Damn it,” she gasped as she coughed and choked, wiping at her eyes.
When Liliana had caught her breath, she cursed again. She had dropped her candle and couldn't see a thing. She dug her matchbox out of a pocket and lit one, looking for the stub of the candle on the ground. She couldn't find it and had to take off her pack and dig out another one. It was the last candle that she had.
I'd better not lose this one, she thought irritably. Or that will definitely be the end of my search.
She walked back into the storeroom and stopped to stare at the exhibit.
“Oh my,” she breathed.
The figure that was revealed in the flickering light of the candle was a mounted rider. It was a statue that had been painted in lifelike detail. He might have been a knight or just a soldier, but he was definitely wearing armor. In one hand he held the reins of his horse, while in the other he was holding a spear.
Nice, she thought as she examined the statue. But still, only an effigy. Its armor was made of stone.
She began walking around the room. Wooden crates and boxes were stacked along each wall, some reaching almost to the top of the twenty foot ceiling. It would take a while to examine each one.
There was a high ladder leaning next to the door and she used it to climb up and read each container label.
Busts, small statues, pottery. Nothing useful. But finally, at the back of the room behind the statue, she found a box on top of a tall stack simply labeled weaponry.
Weapons?
Liliana excited moved the ladder over a bit, climbed up again and pulled at the wooden box. It was heavy and took a few yanks before coming loose. Then it dropped to the ground with a resounding crash and burst open.
She slid back down the ladder and looked around at the contents of the broken box. And Liliana grinned at what she saw.
Covered in bubble wrap were swords, daggers and other medieval weapons. She examined each one and was thrilled to see that some of the weapons came with sheaths and belts as well.
I don't need another sword, she thought, but this will definitely be useful.
She unwrapped a dagger that was about eighteen inches long. It was sheathed and hanging on a thick leather belt that she fastened around her waist and adjusted until it hung comfortably on the right side of her hip. The blade was broad and keenly sharp and it helped to balance out the sword on the opposite side.
No armor though, she thought as she looked at the other weapons. Ah well. Maybe I can learn to use this though.
It was a heavy bow. She picked it up, tore open the plastic and examined it.
The reddish wood it had been made from was reinforced with thin strips of metal. There were a half-dozen bow strings in little plastic packages packed along with it. Obviously the bow was a modern copy of some older weapon, but it was flexible and sturdy and could be very useful, once s
he learned how to use it.
Another package held a quiver filled with a sheaf of arrows. Again, they were new but the artisan who had made them had used natural materials. The shafts were made of wood and they were tipped with wicked iron heads. She counted about two dozen missiles.
“Now, how do I carry you?” she said to the bow and quiver.
Eventually she sorted it out by hooking the quiver to her dagger belt and stringing the bow and slipping it over her shoulder. It would take some time to get used to the new weight, but she definitely felt more secure with the additional weapons.
I don't want to seem ungrateful, Liliana thought as she looked up at the other piles of boxes. But it would have been nice to have found some armor too.
She took off her weapons again and continued her search. Maybe her luck wasn't quite used up yet.
It turned out that it wasn't. On one of the last stacks of boxes, she found a rectangular crate that was only about six inches thick.
What's in here, she wondered. Someone had mistakenly left off any labels or tags and it was unclear what such an oddly-shaped box was meant to hold.
She awkwardly carried it down the ladder under one arm while holding the candle in the other and leaning forward to avoid falling off. Once on the ground, she dropped the box with a thud and set the candle aside.
The container was firmly sealed and she had to use her new dagger to pry off the cover, all the while hoping that she didn't bend or break the weapon.
The nails squealed as the box finally came open and she picked up the candle to look inside. And saw her own reflection staring back at her.
The First Paladin (The New Earth Chronicles Book 1) Page 17