The Shadow Games: The Chronicles of Arianthem VI (16 page)

Lorifal wrinkled his nose. “No wonder they put them out here.”

“Won’t be enough left of them in one piece to reach civilization from here,” Raine said cheerfully.

The stone pillars had grown more frequent along their path, and now they lined it. And although the forest had been thick with trees, the trees thinned as they approached the base of a cliff. Raine ducked and pushed through some branches, and then stood upright at the edge of a clearing.

“Ah, now I understand.”

The catacombs were indeed inside a cave, a very large one judging by the size of the metal door at the top of the stone stairs leading into the entrance. But it was not the daunting metal door that denied entrance, but rather the glowing, yellow, circular pattern that floated in front of the door. It was a huge seal, taller than even Raine, and glowed with an intensity that indicated its strength.

“That is a very powerful seal,” Feyden said.

“That is an understatement,” Raine said, starting up the stairs. She stopped short of the seal and examined the symbols along the circumference of the circle. “I cannot translate this exactly, but it is a warning and a prohibition.” She glanced down at several skeletons that had ignored the warning. “It guarantees destruction for all who attempt to pass.”

“Can you disenchant it?” Feyden asked.

“Most likely it will dissolve with my touch,” Raine said. “But that’s probably not a good idea right now.”

She turned and gazed back into the forest behind them. “You can come out now.”

Two wolves trotted from the forest and made their way to Raine’s side. She kneeled down to pet them, ruffling their fur. She stood back up.

“I wasn’t talking about them,” she said, a little louder.

Lorifal and Feyden glanced to one another, then back into the forest. Lorifal drew his axe and Feyden his bow. Raine started back down the steps, then stood patiently waiting at the bottom.

The first vampyr to emerge from the forest was one they all recognized. It was the beautiful one that Raine had fought in Hestr. The others emerged behind her, as many as twenty, surrounding them in a wide half-circle. Raine turned her back to them to address her companions who had joined her at the bottom of the steps.

“They are all Shadow Guild,” she said, “I have never heard of this many gathering in one place. Whatever is in this tomb is extremely valuable to them.”

“Do we fight them?” Lorifal said, gripping the haft of his axe tightly.

“These are not good odds,” Raine said. “And I will not risk you two to vampryism. Elyara’s enchantments might hold against one or two bites, but from creatures this powerful there are no guarantees.”

“You’re not fighting them alone!” Lorifal blustered.

“I don’t want to fight them at all. Well, I kind of do,” Raine admitted, her Scinterian love of battle rising to the threat, “but that is not a wise course of action.”

“Then what’s your plan?” Feyden asked.

“I have no idea,” Raine said firmly, then turned to face the enemy with a confidence based on nothing. The beautiful vampyr approached her.

“Did you miss me?” Raine asked.

The vampyr’s gaze lingered on her lips, then on the vein that throbbed on the side of her neck.

“Surprisingly, I did. And even more surprisingly, you were correct. Your ‘message’ spared my life.”

“Glad to hear it.”

The vampyr’s eyes flicked to the seal above. “You will open the catacombs and allow us to proceed.”

“Hmm,” Raine said thoughtfully, “that sounds like a terrible idea. If I open that door, I am retrieving whatever is inside.”

“Then we will accompany you.”

“I don’t like that idea either.”

“You have very little choice in the matter,” the vampyr said. “It’s not as if your companions could hold us off for very long.”

“You might be surprised,” Raine said, “these two have faced worse than vampyr with me.”

“But they won’t be with you,” the vampyr pointed out, “if they have to guard the door.”

That was true, Raine thought, once the seal was broken, the vampyr could just follow them. To leave a guard at the door would mean they would have to separate.

“What’s in this tomb?” Raine asked.

“I don’t know. It’s not my job to know. In the upper hierarchy of our Guild, I know only the person below me and the one above me, all others are a mystery. I receive my orders, and I carry them out.”

“Then we are at another impasse,” Raine said, reminding her foe of their last meeting. The vampyr’s jaw clenched, for she remembered being pinned by the creature in front of her, an enjoyable and humiliating experience.

“And will a dragon be arriving to break this one?”

“Unfortunately not,” Raine said, “My—“

Raine paused in mid-sentence and both looked up as a shadow blocked out the sun. Impossibly, an enormous dragon swooped over the clearing, causing Raine to shield her eyes from the dust it stirred. It let out a roar that scattered the birds and caused a stampede of fleeing wildlife in the forest. Raine was hopeful, but as she shielded her eyes and looked up, her expression grew wary: this was not her love.

“I don’t know this one,” Raine said calmly, but the edge in her voice alerted the vampyr. A quick signal from her and the other vampyr melted into the shadows. Feyden and Lorifal joined Raine.

“I have not seen this dragon before,” Feyden said.

“Nor I,” Raine said grimly. “But judging by the size of it, this one is very near Talan’s equal. This could be very bad.”

The dragon made another tight turn, hovered above the ground, then alighted with an earth-shaking thud. Raine stood ready, her hand on her sword, to see if the dragon would attack.

But instead, the dragon disappeared in a brilliant flash of white light, and in its place stood a dazzling woman in royal blue armor that shimmered with the shifting light like the twinkling of stars. The form-fitting armor hugged her curves, pushed full, round breasts upward, and highlighted pale blue eyes the color of ice that sparkled with mirth. A long cape swirled about her and flowed behind with extravagant elegance.

“Or not,” Raine said, her tone causing Feyden to raise an eyebrow. Apparently Raine had a weakness for dragons.

The others held back while Raine approached the woman, still wary. But the dragon would have none of that. As soon as Raine was within arm’s reach, she put her hands upon Raine’s waist and pulled her to her. Although Raine had been fighting for control since the dragon transformed, her eyes turned violet at first touch.

“Oh my, you are a gorgeous little thing. I could almost forgive you for stealing Talan from my bed.”

The corner of Raine’s mouth twitched, for what many would have considered an insult was actually a compliment from the dragon. She took a step back, retaining the woman’s hand, then bent and kissed it.

“I beg your forgiveness, Ancient One, but from my understanding, I stand so accused by more than half of Arianthem.”

Kylan burst into laughter. No wonder Talan was enamored with this one. She spent a moment just enjoying the sight of her, then got down to business.

“I am Kylan’ilaith’alnon. Talan wished to be here herself, but she is engaged elsewhere. And as I have sworn my allegiance to my Queen, I am here in her stead. I am willing to take her place,” she gave Raine a long, lingering look, “in all things.”

The smile again threatened Raine’s face, and this time prevailed, causing a surge of lust in Kylan that delighted the dragon.

“You are exactly as Talan said.”

“And what did my love say?” Raine asked, the mischievous smile still on her face.

“That you were dangerous in oh-so-many ways.”

“Well, let’s just concentrate on the one at the moment. I’m going to break that seal, but I don’t want these vampyr following me into the crypt.”

“Simple enough,” Kylan said, “you and your companions can proceed, and I will guard the door.”

“Now there is a plan I like.”

Kylan followed Raine to the base of the steps, relishing the view of the Scinterian backside in front of her.

“This is Kylan,” Raine said to her companions, “she is an ally of Talan.”

Both the elf and the dwarf bowed low in respectful greeting. Lorifal admired the voluptuous form from beneath shaggy eyebrows, circumspectly, he thought. But Kylan was aware of his inspection and her eyes twinkled with wicked humor as he blushed as red as a beetroot. Raine turned to the vampyres, who stood a ways off.

“And you will stay here, or she will destroy the lot of you.”

Frustration was evident on the vampyr’s face, but she did not move. Raine started up the steps, and Feyden and Lorifal followed. They stopped short of the top as Raine paused in front of the seal, examining it. The vampyr watched with keen interest, not entirely certain that the Scinterian was capable of what was attributed to her. And Kylan watched with fascination, for she wished to see the gift that Talan had described.

“Well, here goes.”

Raine reached out and touched the seal, her hand passing through the light without ill effect. And no sooner had she broken the plane, the seal dissolved from its distinct form into a generalized yellow glow, shrunk to a pinpoint of light at its center, then winked out of existence.

“My word,” Kylan murmured. She had sensed the power of the seal from a great distance. Although touching it would not have killed her, nor probably even harmed her, it was unlikely she could have passed through it.

The vampyr watched, astonished. This seal had thwarted the most powerful mages and wizards in Arianthem. It had destroyed even the most powerful of her kind who thought themselves capable of withstanding its curse. And yet this Scinterian had removed it with an ease and nonchalance that was staggering.

“There we are,” Raine said with satisfaction.

“Let me get this for you,” Lorifal said, grabbing the elaborate handle on the iron door. He wrenched it open with a great heave, the hinges protesting their disuse with a shrieking of metal-on-metal.

“You are such a gentleman,” Raine said, then with a wink and a smile to Kylan, she was gone into the darkness.

Kylan was greatly entertained by the Scinterian, but her demeanor changed abruptly when she turned back to the vampyr. Her tone, which had been nothing but playful with Talan’s love, now was as cold as her ice-blue eyes.

“The Shadow Guild,” she said with contempt. “A deadly snake with so many heads. Although I must confess this plot is a good one because it is so subversive. A direct attack would rally the alliance, but a subversive one will divide.”

The vampyr, not one for disclosure, found herself on the defensive.

“If you know that much, you know that our contract is with those as powerful as you.”

“I doubt that Jörmung or Volva is as powerful as I,” Kylan said, her contempt even more pronounced, “and I assure you your organization has bet on the wrong dragon, for Talan is greater than both.”

Kylan raised her hand and blew out as if blowing dust or snowflakes from her palm. But instead of snowflakes, a blast of glacial wind came forth, freezing the first row of trees of the clearing so that their bows were heavy with icicles and the trunks were frozen solid. And then, with a mere clap of her hands, the trees shattered, and where before had stood towering pines, now there were only piles of ice shards on the ground.

“That is what I will do to you if you even think to cross me,” Kylan said, then muttered to herself, “or maybe I will just transform and sit on the lot of you.”

The vampyr looked at the ice with consternation. This was not magic but physical destruction. They could not stand against it, so all carefully laid plans were lost. She did not think she would be forgiven for failure twice.

“You should return to your Guild,” Kylan said, “and tell them to reconsider their contract.”

“You know we cannot do that. As long as the contract is in effect, a head of state must die.”

“I’m not talking about that one,” Kylan said, her casual tone hardening. “We will take care of that one. I’m talking about the contract on Raine. I have met her only once, but I tell you this, if anything happens to her, I will hunt down and destroy every last one of you.”

A muscle in the vampyr’s jaw worked as she considered her options, realizing she had only one.

“Then I will return to my superior and forward your words.”

Lorifal again led the way, his torch casting flickering shadows on the walls. But unlike Hestr, there was no one waiting for them in the shadows, no attackers leaping out from the dark. The catacombs were empty save endless shelves of wrapped bodies in various states of decay. The smell of death was strong, the sick, sweet odor of rotted flesh.

“I’m surprised the odor is still so strong,” Raine commented. “The seal has kept this place closed for a very long time, and most of the remains have returned to dust.”

“It does smell a bit ripe,” Feyden agreed.

The three continued down the narrow passageways. Lorifal, always interested in history, was drawn to the various artifacts that had been left with the dead: weapons, armor, jewelry, keepsakes, etc. He tried to resist, but felt compelled to finger the physical record of the past.

“If you cause them to rise and haunt us, I’m going to kick you in the ass,” Feyden said.

“I’m not taking anything,” Lorifal protested. “I’m not a thief. I just can’t believe the history here.”

Raine wasn’t really listening and sniffed the air. “Does the smell seem to be getting stronger?”

“Yes,” Feyden said, wrinkling his nose. “It does seem to be getting more pungent.”

“How odd,” Raine said, more curious than disconcerted.

“What do you think we’re looking for?” Lorifal asked as they continued.

“I don’t really know,” Raine said. “The Shadow Guild is so strange in their demands, it’s hard to say what would be so valuable to them.”

Feyden coughed, then stifled a gag. “It’s definitely getting more pungent in here.”

They rounded a corner and Lorifal’s light illuminated the path ahead.

“Lorifal, shine your torch over there.”

“What—?”

Feyden’s words died on his lips as all three stared at the pile of corpses, stacked to a height over their heads. But they weren’t people, they were rats. Hundreds, possibly thousands of them. They were in every state of decomposition, from skeletal remains to the freshly killed.

“It looks like something is feeding on them.” Feyden asked.

Raine shoved one of the bodies with the toe of her boot. “If so, it’s not eating the flesh.”

“That’s bad,” Lorifal said.

Raine looked to the looming darkness ahead. “Let’s keep moving.”

They continued through the catacombs, and the dank air became more and more oppressive. Although Raine was relaxed, Feyden noted that her hand kept returning to the folded bow she kept on her belt, the weapon that she could unfurl with a deadly snap of her wrist.

“Is that a light ahead?” Lorifal asked, his eyes straining the darkness.

“Shield your torch,” Raine ordered. “Yes, I believe it is.”

As fearless as he was, Feyden felt his heart pound in his chest. Who knew what was guarding this treasure? He chastised himself. As creepy as the catacombs were, they were not as bad as marching through the Empty Land and then through the Veil to the Gate of the Underworld. Raine was utterly calm, but Lorifal expressed his tension in a nonverbal way.

“Sorry,” he said, as the squeak of wind from his backside slipped loose.

“Really?” Feyden said in disbelief.

“You know it happens when I get nervous.”

“At least he has dampened the smell of this place,” Raine said, muffling laughter.

“With something far worse,” Feyden said, frowning at his companion.

“Dowse your torch before the gas alights and kills us all,” Raine said.

Raine fought to get her mirth under control. Weynild was right: when the three of them got together they reverted to juveniles. But the breach of etiquette had relieved the crushing tension she had felt, and she was ready to move forward. She drew her swords.

“Let’s go.”

Raine took the lead and the three moved cautiously down the hallway. The light was coming from beneath a closed door. They made no sound as they approached, but nor was there any sound from what lie beyond the door. They paused before the entrance, just outside the ring of light on the floor so their approach could not be detected, and readied their weapons. Raine placed the tip of her sword against the surface, testing it to see if it would give way. It was not latched. She gave a series of hand signals, and Feyden and Lorifal nodded their understanding. Raine took a deep breath, and set the tip of her sword on the door.

With a shove, the door was opened. Raine went straight through, Lorifal to the left, and Feyden to the right. Their weapons were at full arms, Feyden with an arrow ready to fly, Lorifal with his axe already in full swing, and Raine with her a sword in each hand, one in an offensive position and one readied for defense.

“Hold,” Raine commanded, and all three froze in confusion.

The room was nearly empty, set up almost like a sitting room or a vestibule that had been modeled into a living space. There was a small bed against the wall, a bookshelf with a number of tomes, and a small table next to a chair. The light was coming from a candle which flickered from a slight breeze, indicating that this room had some small opening to the world outside. And in the chair sat a young woman, a pale, frail, hollow-looking creature with a thin, delicate face and sharp features. She might have been beautiful once, were she not so gaunt and weary.

Raine stood upright from her attack stance and sheathed her weapons. She gazed at the woman in consternation, but also with a growing understanding.

“Where is the treasure?” Lorifal asked, lowering his axe. Feyden strapped his bow to his back and returned the arrow to its quiver.

“She is the treasure,” Raine said.

The woman spoke, and there was world weariness to her voice that belied her age.

“I knew one day the seal would be broken.”

Raine approached the woman gently, as if not to frighten her, and spoke to her with respect.

“You are Aesa, are you not?”

“You know me?” the woman said, surprised.

“Yes,” Raine said, sighing with a frustration that neither Feyden nor Lorifal understood. She ran her fingers through her hair, troubled. “You are the Empress.”

The woman did not confirm or deny the stunning pronouncement, and in fact, did not respond to it at all.

“Raine,” Feyden said uncertainly, “I was just in court. This is not the Emperor’s wife.”

“No,” Raine said, releasing another sigh, it’s not.”

“She is his grandmother.”

At Raine’s request, Feyden and Lorifal returned to Kylan’s side and shared their discovery. Raine had asked them to set up camp outside the entrance while she remained behind. Kylan elected to stay, enticed by the prospect of such a delicious mystery, for the Empress Aesa had disappeared generations ago and was presumed dead. Raine’s wolves still circled the clearing, wary of the dragon even in human form. The vampyres were long gone and Lorifal thought to enjoy the loveliness of the woman in blue, his attempt at subtlety as ineffectual as before.

Raine, still deep in the catacombs, sat before the Empress. The woman did not look well.

“How long have you been in here?”

“I’m not sure. Decades perhaps? Time has lost all meaning for me in so many ways.”

“You are vampyr.”

A flush of shame passed over the pale features, a bare tinge of pink as she had so little blood in her veins.

“I, once the most exalted ruler in Arianthem, now feed off the carcasses of rats.”

“You have survived all this time on nothing but rat blood?”

Aesa plucked at her worn skirt. “Yes.”

Raine stood abruptly, the move startling the woman, but her alarm was barely expressed through the thick veil of her lethargy. Raine grasped her wrists and pulled her to her feet so they were face-to-face, or would have been were Raine not half a head taller than her.

“You need something more than that.”

“No,” the woman cried, trying to pull away. This creature smelled intoxicating and her thoughts had been on nothing but the vein throbbing in her neck since the door had opened. “I cannot infect you with this disease.”

“I cannot be turned,” Raine said firmly. “Magic does not affect me. That’s why I was sent here, to break the seal.”

“And you would offer me your blood?”

“I would.”

The Empress was uncertain, unwilling to believe this stranger would offer such a gift, that she would face so fearlessly what most abhorred. But Aesa was so desperately hungry, having been barely kept alive by the rodents. There were so many times she had wished to die, where she thought to let her body return to ash, but her will always faltered and she sought the creatures out. And here she was being offered a banquet after surviving on pestilence for years.

“I cannot guarantee I will not lose control,” the Empress said softly.

“I suggest you let me worry about that. Now I need you strong. So bite me.”

Aesa could not resist any longer and put her arms about the beautiful stranger’s neck. She pulled her downward and her teeth broke the skin, latching on in a powerful bite. It was painful for Raine at first, and her Scinterian markings rose to the surface of her skin, but it grew less painful as the deadly embrace continued. She could feel the Empress straighten, grow taller, her skin begin to fill out, her grip begin to tighten. She could even feel a breast grow plump against her arm and the nipple harden as one hunger was fed by the other. The grip tightened further and the Empress grew strong, so strong she began to push Raine backward until she was pinned against the wall.

And Aesa was lost, for the stranger’s blood was an elixir, more potent than anything she had ever tasted and an ambrosia after years of feeding off the vermin of the catacombs. She had no control and pressed against the firm body she had trapped against the wall, intent on consuming every last drop. But then, with an otherworldly strength, the stranger grasped her by the arms and firmly but gently pushed her away.

“I’m so sorry,” Aesa stammered.

“I told you to let me worry about that. How do you feel?”

“I feel better than I have in years, perhaps decades.”

Raine examined her and thought that must certainly be true, for now Aesa resembled the stunning young Empress who had disappeared two generations ago. Her cheeks glowed with health and her eyes sparkled with life. The worn gown was now filled with the graceful curves that had been legendary within the imperial court.

“How is that you are not affected by my bite?”

Raine sat back down in the seat she had vacated. “Vampyrism is half magic, half disease. And I am immune to magic.”

Aesa also retook her seat. “I have never heard of such a thing.”

“In all my travels, I have never come across another with the ability.”

Aesa ran her tongue over her teeth, savoring the marvelous metallic taste that lingered in her mouth. “You are not human.” Her eyes drifted down to the blue and gold markings still visible on the woman’s arms, astonishing markings that somehow she had missed.

“You are Scinterian,” she said in disbelief.

“I am.”

“I did not think there were any left.”

“I am probably the last of my kind,” Raine said.

“That is why you recognized me,” Aesa said, “you are far older than you look.”

“I am far older than you. But enough of me. Let’s talk of you.”