The Runic Trilogy: Books I to III (The Runic Series)

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The Runic Trilogy: Books I to III (The Runic Series) Page 80

by Clayton Wood


  “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, tossin
g 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 toward 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.

  ...shields, what a...

  “Twelve shields,” he murmured, staring at her. “What a coincidence.”

  “Leave us alone!” Ariana cried, glancing at Erasmus. The man was still breathing, but his breaths were getting shallow, his face pale and sweaty. Ibicus said nothing, a ball of fire appearing before him, then shooting out toward her. It snuffed out almost instantly.

  “What an enormous coincidence,” he repeated, shaking his head slowly at Ariana. “That's the same defense I programmed into the Dead Man's shard.” He stared at Ariana curiously. “He used it on you, didn't he?”

  Ariana said nothing, sidestepping closer to Erasmus, her eyes on Ibicus. She knew she couldn't defeat the man, but if she could grab Erasmus and get away...

  “Fascinating that I can't access your shard,” Ibicus continued, watching her as she moved. “Your benefactor must have altered it.” He shook his head then, marveling at Ariana. “I would very much like to meet him.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ariana retorted.

  “You really don't know, do you?” Ibicus murmured. “It doesn't matter...he'll be forced to show himself eventually...or let the Empire be taken. Either way, I get what I want.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “I live there,” Ibicus retorted. Then he sighed. “Now, I would love to keep you,” he added, “...but unfortunately I have a plan to execute, and I can't have you getting in the way. As you can imagine, I created the Dead Man's shard with a few...vulnerabilities, in case he ever lost faith.”

  Ariana inched closer to Erasmus, now only six or so feet from the ailing Runic. She kept her eyes on Ibicus, weaving the gravity pattern. If she could pull Erasmus out into the hallway, she could alert the guards...

  She nearly slapped her forehead. Of course!

  “Guards!” she screamed, leaping for the door. She thrust out the gravity pattern, a sphere surrounding Erasmus. She pulled on it with her mind, lifting Erasmus from the floor and bringing him to the door.

  “Oh, don't bother,” Ibicus stated. Ariana spun around, facing the Elder Runic. “They're not really Battle-Weavers, dear...they're all Mine. And one will be coming in shortly to take the credit for Erasmus's death...and yours.”

  The gravity shields surrounding Ariana vanished one by one, until they were no more. She felt her crystal react, felt it weave magic insanely fast, more gravity shields appearing around her. A bolt of light crackled in the air between them, striking Ibicus's shields, which wavered, then vanished. But they reappeared quickly, and despite frenzied weaving from her crystal, its every pattern was countered instantly.

  Ibicus smirked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the same dagger he'd used on Erasmus. Ariana lunged to the side, but Ibicus moved just as quickly, barring her way with his shields and shoving her up against the wall. He pressed the tip of the dagger against the inner surface of his gravity shields, shoving it through one layer, then another. The tip inched closer and closer to Ariana's neck, moving through the shields as if they weren't even there. She squirmed, pressing her palms against Ibicus's shields and pushing hard. Ibicus didn't budge, but she felt the wall behind her creak, the marble cracking under the pressure. She pushed as hard as she could, hoping to break the wall behind her with her newfound strength, but it held.

  “My my, aren't you strong,” Ibicus murmured. “I look forward to seeing what upgrades were performed on your shard...after I pull it from your skull.”

  The dagger's blade sliced through each gravity field until the edge pressed up against the right side of Ariana's neck, pushing inward slowly, the skin denting under the pressure.

  Then the door burst open.

  Ariana saw a man in black robes dash into the room, saw Erasmus slide across the floor with remarkable speed toward him. The black-robed man leaped over Erasmus as he slid underneath, the Grand Runic continuing until he'd slid right out of the doorway. The door slammed behind him, and the black-robed man stood facing Ibicus, pointing a lone finger at the Councilman.

  “Let her go.”

  Ariana's eyes widened in recognition; it was Master Owens! The gray-haired Weaver stood tall before Ibicus, facing the Councilman defiantly. Ibicus turned to face Owens, but did not release Ariana.

  “Thank god you're here!” Ibicus exclaimed, nodding toward Ariana, his dagger still pressed against her neck. “She murdered Erasmus, she's a traitor!”

  “Hardly,” Master Owens replied, his voice cool. “I said let her go, Councilman,” he warned. Ibicus shook his head.

  “She's not Ariana anymore, Owens,” Ibicus countered. “She's been killed...see how pale she is? Those bastards turned her into one of the Chosen.”

  Ariana's eyes widened, and
she turned to Owens, trying to speak, to defend herself. But Ibicus's gravity shields held her fast to the wall, the force so powerful that she couldn't take a breath in to speak. She saw Master Owens stare at her for a long moment, saw his resolve wavering. She wanted to scream, but could only shake her head mutely. Ibicus's blade still pressed into the side of her neck, digging deeper into her flesh.

  “Why didn't you have your guards help you detain her and get Erasmus to safety?” Owens asked, lowering his hand. “It took a lot of convincing to get them to let me in.”

  “Erasmus and I were having a meeting,” Ibicus replied. “My Battle-Weavers were instructed not to allow anyone in.”

  “I see,” Owens stated. He relaxed then, gesturing at Ariana. “Let me take her then,” he added. “We'll need to interrogate her...she may have valuable information.”

  “It's too dangerous,” Ibicus countered. “We need to kill her now before she conjures Xanos and kills us all.”

  “I'm a far better warrior than you are,” Owens reasoned. “If a Runic with no combat experience can handle her, I shouldn't have any problems.”

  Ibicus said nothing, staring at Master Owens for a long moment. Owens glanced back at the door he'd entered from.

  “About your guards,” he continued, gesturing toward the door. “I've trained just about every Battle-Runic in the Empire, and I swear I've never seen them before.” He shook his head then, turning back to Ibicus. “They certainly could've used my training,” he added. “I didn't have any trouble at all killing them when they refused to let me enter.”

  Ibicus stared at Master Owens for a long moment, his eyes narrowing. A half-dozen gravity shields appeared around Owens, warping the light around him.

  “Fine then,” Ibicus sighed. “Would you rather I burn this city to the ground than have Me lead you?”

  “We lead ourselves,” Owens countered coldly.

  “You're like ignorant children,” Ibicus muttered. “You worship the Ancients? In a generation, you could surpass them!”

  “We will surpass them,” Owens stated. “On our own terms, by ourselves.”

 

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