Necrophobia (41 page)

“We buried her.” Claire insisted as she coughed up blood and reached out for her rapier. It was too far out of reach for her to grasp but Haures was taking no chance. He glanced at the fallen sword and it flew closer to him. He snapped off the arrow fletching sticking out of his chest and with his left hand pulled it out of his back. With a lick of intense green flame the wound sealed. He walked over to her and knelt down as she gasped for air.

“She didn’t stay dead.”

“You…”

“Not me.” Haures shook his head once again. “I’d never kill Eleanor after all she did for me.”

Claire tried to speak but her words descended into a coughing fit.

“Your mother isn’t dead.” Haures continued as her coughs simmered down. “Because of the actions of one doctor Morana Norwood. I’m sure you’ve heard about her. An unpleasant woman I must admit.”

She looked up at him horrified. “There’s no way…” The words died in her throat.

“You don’t believe that. Haven’t you already seen the fruits of her experiments? Morana embraces vampirism. She’s always looking for opportunities to spread it.” He looked up and tilted his head listening for something in the distance. “Eleanor is alive somewhere. Find her yourself if you don’t believe me.” He stood up and held out his arm to one side and beckoned. The tome he’d been staring at when she entered flew into his outstretched hand and he caught it without looking. He glanced down at her with something approaching pity on his face. “Perhaps your friend Isobel knows where to look.” He turned and walked towards the opposite end of the library.

“Wait…” Claire reached out for him trying to stand up but she was exhausted and bleeding.

He left without saying a word and not long after Claire heard the distinct sounds of footsteps running down the hallway behind her. A woman burst in flanked by three people and glanced across the ransacked library and Claire bleeding on the floor.

“Where is he?” Inquisitor Mia asked.

Her hand shaking Claire pointed in the direction Haures fled to and she and the knight clad in black platemail rushed across the library and out of sight. Razakel and Alba appeared through the door breathing heavily. Razakel’s breath came in heavy rasps as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Curse this ancient body.” His reddened and exhausted face looked down at Claire’s and he shook his head sadly. “We’re too late.”

“I screwed up.” Claire croaked and coughed. Her ribs and back were agony. “He got away.”

“Stay still.” Alba commanded as she knelt beside her. She looked away the second their eyes met and glanced at Razakel before pressing her hand against Claire. White light circled and leapt from her open palm and through Claire’s chest she could feel the warmth spreading through her and numbing her pain.

“You can’t take him alone.” Razakel grasped his knees as the colour returned to his face. Her magic finished Alba stood up and stepped back and Claire said her thanks. Alba dismissed it with a curt nod before searching the room.

“I wasn’t trying to.” Claire conceded as her strength returned. She managed to prop herself up against the bookshelf. “I wanted answers from him.”

Razakel’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t trust him to make a deal. Don’t listen to his offers.”

“I didn’t!” Claire glared back at him offended. “He told me Eleanor is alive.”

“Did he now?” Razakel stared at some point behind her head. “He’ll tell you whatever you want to hear. He’s an expert at getting inside people’s heads Claire.”

She shook her head. “No. I think he was telling the truth. He gains nothing by lying to me. I was at his mercy.”

Alba returned and handed Claire her pendant and rapier. The chain snapped and twisted but the stone itself seemed intact. With Haures long gone the stone felt warmer in her hands. She took it gratefully and eased herself to her feet. “What’s happened out there? Is Valdgeirr around?”

“Valdgeirr is defeated.” Razakel pushed open the library door and pointed towards the window in the hall. The storm outside was subsiding and the clouds lightening. Rain drizzled against the windows and extinguished the last of the fires leaving the central courtyard a smoking ruin. “Lord Strigoi survives thanks to his bodyguards.”

“The cult have retreated and the undead have ceased.” Alba added behind them. She was stroking the barn owl head of her staff idly as she spoke.

Claire limped out across the hall and pressed up against the window. Even with Alba’s healing, her legs and muscles still ached from two solid days of running. As the rainfall decreased a thin mist coated the ground and wisped around the statues and surviving ornaments. “Morana. Did you find her?” Haures’ words burned in the back of her mind. Morana was the reason she’d grown up without a mother. Worse — she’d twisted her into a vampire like herself. The two sorcerers behind her shook their heads.

“We’ve not seen any sign of her.”

The Caelites empowered by the presence of their god swept through the city smiting the remaining undead with righteous fury. In the distance the storm clouds parted as the undead dragon and the Avatar clashed in the skies. Thunderbolts rained down with each blow until the wounded dragon spiralled towards the city its tattered wings failing to keep it aloft. As the creature fell it struggled to right itself and slow its momentum. A white light streaked down behind it like a comet. With an earthshaking crash the creature smashed into the centre of the industrial district on its back snapping the ripped wings in half. Reiner leapt onto a rooftop to get a better vantage point as the celestial comet smashed into the flailing dragon’s chest and green flame erupted out of it as it died. The Caelite captain vaulted over the rooftops towards the dying dragon, his progress slowed by the rain-slick roof tiles and large metal spikes adorning most of the rooftops. All around him the other Caelites finished up their own slaughter to witness the Avatar of Caelus first hand. Reiner dropped down onto street level and slowed to a halt as the dragon thrashed before him. Amelia’s spear jutting out of its torn and ravaged chest as it clawed at her with weakening arms. Each impact met with a wall of solidified air surrounding the Avatar before the dragon’s head lolled back onto the shattered street. Its breathing heavy and irregular. The Avatar ripped the spear out of the dragon and leapt onto the ground beside its head. Rather than stabbing it again the Avatar reached out with a spare hand and caressed the dying dragon. The spectral flame burning inside it flickered and faded as its breath grew shallower and shallower. Reiner drew closer and heard the avatar speaking in the dragon’s language in a low voice. He couldn’t pick out the individual words over the rainfall but the tone was soothing. The Avatar of Caelus finished its rite and poured searing white light into Valdgeirr, extinguishing the spectral flame animating the dragon. Reiner shielded his eyes from the searing light, the afterimage of the incandescent dragon burned into his vision for several minutes. He opened his eyes after what felt like an eternity to see embers fading and burning into nothingness. The ash where the dragon had been swirled on the breeze and ascended upwards, sizzling in the rain.

The Avatar lowered its hand and turned towards the amassed Caelites, some of whom were on their knees and whispering prayers of praise. The inhuman gaze washed over them with burning white eyes judging into their very souls with an uncomfortable intensity. Satisfied the Avatar rose both arms up to its side causing the diaphanous wings of lightning to flicker behind it. With another blinding flash the light left Amelia and shimmered out of her. It condescended into the faintest impression of a dragon before ascending upwards into the storm clouds blowing them aside with a flash. Amelia swayed on the spot for several seconds before collapsing forwards. As the closest to her Reiner rushed towards her fallen body and cupped her in his arms. She was unconscious and still breathing.

“She’s alive!” He shouted as her honour-guard arrived and checked on her. The clouds above reformed, closing the tear above them and gentle rain washed over them.

“We need to get her back to the temple.” One of the honour guard said amongst themselves. Reiner recognised the voice but couldn’t quite put name to voice as the awe wore off. With great care he handed the unconscious commander to her guard and stepped back feeling the soothing rain upon his face. He and many others around him prayed for her safety into the evening sky.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The days following the undead assault were chaotic. Reconstruction projects sprang up throughout the city and efforts were made to rebuild the watchtowers and reinforce the cities defences. With the city vulnerable malcontents forced the remaining Night Guard to work longer hours to maintain order and keep looting and rioting to a minimum. With Lord Strigoi’s survival confirmed stability began to re-establish itself. Claire’s own wounds had healed thanks to Alba’s magic. Afterwards she’d reunited with Hayley, Adrian, Reiner and Sevaur as the last pockets of undead resistance died down. Though wounded and exhausted they were no worse for wear each bearing their own amusing anecdotes (except for Reiner). Despite their attempts at levity Claire could not dismiss Haures words compounded by the warning Veronica gave her the day before. Isobel was hiding something. She walked through the Night Guard headquarters out of uniform keeping her fresh badge held high for identification. The building itself has survived mostly intact. When the undead converged on the Strigoi mansion they avoided the residential areas leaving few to attack the Night Guard’s home of operations. As she walked down a familiar corridor she hesitated in front of the door marked ‘Isobel Caldwell’. Claire replayed the argument in her head many times debating whether to confront Isobel especially given the circumstances but curiosity won her over. She opened the door and walked into Isobel’s office head held high.

“Rosenfeld I’ve told you about not kn—” Isobel swung around on her chair with a scowl. “Acestes? Don’t go learning habits off Hayley.” Isobel’s eyes were drooping and she seemed more exhausted than ever. Her left arm hung limp in a cast and she had a sore looking cut across her face. Despite this she staggered into work without missing a day. To see her so vulnerable disarmed Claire a little and knocked the wind out of her sails.

“I need to talk to you.”

Isobel’s eyes narrowed and she sighed. Waving Claire towards a chair with her good arm. “Speak.” The repaired pendant pulsed with a cold glow from Isobel’s ambient psychic activity. She glanced down at Claire’s chest sensing the pendant hidden beneath her hunting outfit even though she couldn’t see it. “I’m not a fan of that.”

“It’s saved my life twice already.” Claire pulled it out to show her but Isobel recoiled from it with a disapproving glare.

“Put it away.”

Claire did as she was told and braced herself. “Eleanor is alive isn’t she?”

Isobel maintained a neutral expression and Claire could feel the pendant chill in her hand. She was grateful it blocked out Isobel’s thought skimming abilities at the very least.
“You knew about it didn’t you.” Claire continued keeping her tone level but insistent. “Why didn’t you tell me? You know I came to you looking for answers.”

The retired Inquisitor sat back in her chair with a sigh and rubbed her weary eyes. “Tell you what? That I found circumstantial evidence that she might be alive? That I hadn’t the time nor manpower to confirm how genuine it is?” Isobel shook her head. “You want me to get your hopes up do you? Fill your head full of hope and tell you your deepest desires are true?”

“I just wanted the truth.” Claire maintained a firm gaze. “I wanted to know what happened and why. I didn’t come for platitudes to cheer me up.”

“Good. I’m an—” She sighed. “Was an Inquisitor. We’re not known for flights of fantasy. I don’t act unless I know I’m certain.”

They exchanged an awkward silence for several moments.

“What evidence was it?” Claire attempted to take a different track. Already she felt heartless and self-centred. It was amazing the power a wrinkled face glaring at you could have.