Necrophobia (29 page)

After they agreed on a time and place Claire grabbed her belongings and headed downstairs towards the hospital within the station. Her own injuries treated and cleaned she’d heard from Veronica that Reiner and Cynthia had arrived not long ago. Perhaps Sevaur had been with them as well. The hospital covered the ground floor and first basement with the morgue in the basement below. It was less pleasant and more hectic than the one in the Caelites stronghold. It was by no means modern and little more than a row of beds with a small table between each of them. A ragged curtain rail separated each bed as a nod towards privacy and appeared to have been a recent addition.

She found Reiner stood beside Cynthia’s bed with a concerned look upon his face. Wrapped in bandages and missing parts of her armour she lay unresponsive as a priestess tended to her. Nearby a dark-skinned officer clutching his own bandaged chest watched the priestess work for a while before exchanging a nod with Reiner and leaving.

“What happened?” Claire asked looking at the sorry state of her old friend. “Is she going to be okay?”

“We think so. She almost didn’t make it.” The concern evident in his voice suggested the situation was worse than he claimed, but she decided not to press him. Though acquaintances at most, Claire had learnt not to question him too hard otherwise he’d withdraw and refuse to answer any further questions.

“Who did this to her? One of the cult?”

Reiner nodded. “They’d created an abomination sewn from stolen flesh and bone. I killed the beast but not before it almost killed her.”

“Seems they’re getting creative with their necromancy.” Claire shook her head. “They’ve been working with the dark gift to improve their vampires too. They’ve succeeded in making water-proof ones.”

“Their blasphemy knows no ends. They’d trade an afterlife with the gods for a twisted simulacrum of life. It’s almost unthinkable.” Reiner’s glare hardened as he continued. “Falkner was taken in by false promises of reviving his loved ones. He turned from the light of Caelus. Can you believe anyone could be so desperate?”

Claire nodded without meeting his gaze. “He must really have cared about his wife to try and bring her back. No matter the cost.”

“So I’ve heard. It is an act of selfishness. A disturbance of the natural order. The gods have claimed the souls of their followers and who are we to deny them?”

“Is it selfish to bring back someone you cared about whose life was cut too short? I find it hard to imagine you’re that cold Reiner. They’d risk damning their own soul to give another a second shot at life.”

“It is not my place to say. I follow the teachings of the gods. Regardless of the success of intent of their necromancy it is forbidden.” Reiner turned towards her. “Do not be swayed by their promises Claire. What’s gone is gone.”

The strength of his conviction was impressive even as she couldn’t bring herself to agree entirely. If a perfect magic existed that could restore someone to life exactly as they were, what right did anyone have to insist they stay that way? To restore someone to life or to deny them a second chance was still deciding their fate regardless. Claire’s response died on her tongue as a helmeted Night Guard approached carrying a small package.

“Someone left this for you at reception.” The Night Guard handed it to Reiner and left without another word.

Reiner opened it and read the paper within it. His gaze hardened and the colour from his already pale face drained slower. He turned the paper away from Claire’s line of sight as he read. With a curse he screwed it up into a ball and pocketed it within his pouch.

“I have to go.” He grabbed his helmet and turned towards the exit.

“Go where? We need to work together on this Reiner.”

“Keep an eye on her!” Reiner shouted as he hurried out the door leaving Claire behind in Cynthia’s ward. Nearby healers and priests took Reiner’s shouting in their stride and continued to fuss over the injured and talk amongst themselves. The bandaged Night Guard from earlier reappeared holding a mug of steaming tea and a pained expression, he took one look at Claire and the retreating Caelite Captain and sighed.

“I’m in for the rest of the night. I’ll watch her.” He aimed his hand at the sleeping Cynthia half-heartedly. “You can go find out what he means if you like.” His tired face gazed up and down her ripped and torn armour soaked in blood and slime. “You must be new?”

She nodded and looked at her tattered armour as embarrassment crept up on her. She’d not even had it a day. “Claire.”

“Sergeant Locke.” He pulled up a wooden chair and sat beside the wounded Caelite with his mug in one hand and reaching for a book with another.

Claire said her thanks and headed after Reiner. Finding no sign of him she entered the entrance hall hoping perhaps to find out more about the mysterious courier when Adrian appeared and ran over to her.

“Been looking for you!” He paused upon noticing her outfit and hesitated. “They took you in quick.”

“Desperate times.” Claire scanned the entrance: besides the officers working reception there was no-one else. Given the approaching curfew this wasn’t much of a surprise. “Did you see Reiner run past here?”

“Yeah just.” He glanced at the darkened streets beyond the open doors.

“Where’s Sevaur? I thought he was with you.”

“Well…” Adrian rubbed the back of his neck and stared towards his feet. “He’s just been captured. That’s why I came to find you.”

“What?
How!
He was with you!” Adrian avoided the intensity of her glare and rightly so. “You were to look after him!”

“That’s not important now.” Holding up his hands in surrender Adrian cut her off. “I know where he’s been taken. Let’s argue about this later.”

“So that’s where Reiner was hurrying off to.” She said through clenched teeth. “Lead the way. We’d better help him before he gets himself killed.”

Relief forming upon his dishevelled face he nodded and rushed outside onto the streets. Exhaustion temporarily forgotten Claire kept pace with him, her mind racing. “Why did they take him?”

“Don’t know. I was too far away to help.”

They rushed down the empty streets as the last of the daylight faded. The few Night Guard patrols they spotted eyed them with deep suspicion but allowed them passage. Clad in their armour and escorting a civilian hurrying before curfew they saw little reason to intervene. She considered asking them for help but there wasn’t the time to explain and argue her point. Adrian took them down back streets and shortcuts through the winding fortified city.
“He’s up there. I saw someone leap right up there holding him.” He pointed towards one of the many towers breaking up the skyline with his hand.
Falkner.
She cursed beneath her breath.
No wonder Reiner was so desperate
. After a brief pause they continued heading towards the distant tower hoping it wasn’t too late.

Sevaur sat in awkward silence as a cold breeze rustled through the aviary tower. Falkner spoke little and refused to rise to the bait, he remained quiet and focused. His dragonbone serrated spear held in one hand he stood still as a statue and waited. All around him the birds kept caged were asleep, without their constant chirps he could hear all creaks and groans as the tower’s weight shifted in the wind. His hands and feet numbed by his bindings he found it difficult to move at all. Falkner shifted and braced his spear as he glanced away from the captive knight out the open and large windows of the tower. The tension in the air was almost palpable as the traitor Caelite poised himself ready to strike. Sudden movement behind Sevaur’s head caught his attention and his eyes widened. The air around him became charged and his hair stood on end before a deafening blast of lightning flew past him and towards Falkner. With a grunt of surprise Falkner blocked the magic discharge with a shield of solidified air. The birds surrounding him shrieked in fear and surprise becoming a cacophony that drowned out all other noise. Having scaled the tower with the Caelite’s inhuman leaps and the stealth of an owl his brother appeared. Reiner strode forwards his cape fluttering behind him in the strong winds rushing through the open tower, his eyes ablaze with cold fury.

“This is what you’ve reduced yourself to?” Reiner’s hands crackled with eldritch power as he channelled lightning through the Spellstone inlaid Caelite armour. With another flick of his outstretched fingers lightning arced towards the traitor forcing him to shield himself again and again. His eyes flickered at the door as he expected his allies to come to his aid. “Your thralls are dead Falkner.”

“Enough!” Falkner shouted as he reeled from the shock of Reiner’s overwhelming magic. “This can be solved without violence!”

“No.” Reiner stabbed with a snakelike lunge towards his former comrade. Falkner parried at the last second and turned aside the fatal spear strike before throwing Reiner backwards with a conjured gust. Reiner braced himself and stood his ground, the tempest washed over him carrying feathers and dust around the room. “This ends either with me dragging your worthless hide back to Caelholm in chains or your blood on my hands.”

“You do not understand!” Falkner spat the words out as they exchanged bone-crunching blows and swipes. Their spears clashed against each other again and again.

“Oh I understand.” Reiner threw himself forward propelled by aeromancy. He crashed into Falkner with the force of a cannon knocking him backwards into the wall. The stone cracked and pebbles dislodged from the ceiling as Falkner teetered over the low windowsill, his spare hand gripping onto the stone to avoid falling out the tower. “If only Vara could see you now.”

“Don’t speak that name!” Lightning leapt out of hands and struck Reiner in the chest halting his advance. The bolt was weak and cast in desperation, lacking the strength to deal any real harm but it was enough to slow him. Falkner dragged himself upwards with his spear. Reiner twitched as the electric current passed through him.

“Was it worth it?” Reiner sneered and trained his speartip on the rising Caelite. “Selling us out for a blasphemous deal? Innocent blood is on your hands.”

“It is.” Falkner nodded. “Yet more blood would have been on my hands had I
not
struck that deal. You think it was all my doing the Caelites were attacked? That Haures and his dark master wouldn’t find someone else? Or unleashed greater horrors upon our order? I worked to minimise casualties! They wanted Valdgeirr not us.”

“So now you paint yourself as the selfless hero of this piece? Are you that delusional?” The two Caelite captains circled each other waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Utilising their distraction Sevaur began burning his way through the leather bindings around his hands.

“To be a leader is to make difficult decisions. You know that.”

Reiner shook his head slowly. “Is that how far you’ve fallen? You’ve sold your soul in exchange for your wife. How do you think she’d react upon learning how you brought her back? What would she say after hearing you aided a blasphemous cult that corrupts all it touches? Perhaps you’re enthralled after all.”

Falkner’s fist clenched as lightning coiled around his arm. “I am
not
enthralled! Once Vara is returned to me I’ll kill every last one of them! Then justice will be served.”

“There’ll be no justice until you answer for your crimes, either in this life or the next. Surrender and return with me.”

As they circled Falkner found himself in front of Sevaur’s chair. Sevaur’s flame intensified as the bindings began to break free.

Breathless and aching all over Claire and Adrian reached the aviary tower. They crept closer through the dimly lit street keeping low and out of sight. The streetlights buzzed overhead and cast long shadows. The courtyard was empty as they opened the chain-link fence gate and hurried towards base of the tower.

“Look at this.” Adrian whispered as he pointed towards a crumpled set of bodies hidden just out of sight behind a crate. Keeping his axe held steady he crept towards them and prodded them with his foot. “Dead.”

Claire checked furtively across the empty street before joining him. The bodies were warm and still oozing blood, their weapons lay piled beside them. They bore no identifying symbols of clothing only plain leather armour and hoods. Either mercenaries or unfortunates within the cult keeping guard they lay lifeless against the tower. “Looks like Reiner’s handiwork.”