| |
I didn’t bother to pound my hands against the vault door anymore. I turned on the spot, squeezing my eyes closed as I tried to think things through.
I needed to get out of this vault. It was a level III. Before I’d come here, I’d done some groundwork. I’d looked at the respective security of each level of vault. It ran right up to level 100. That gave me cause for hope, right? If I was only in such a lowly rated vault, then maybe I’d be able to get out with just a little magic.
I tested that theory out as I whirled on the spot, crushed my hands into fists, and smashed them forward. Magic blasted out, flame rising high off my knuckles. The wave of power blasted into the vault door, but it did nothing. There were these tiny little vents either side of it, and they sucked down the magic with this popping sound.
I tried again, more fear sailing through me.
While objectively I might not be in the line of fire and someone might have just inadvisably tried to attack the vault tunnels, I knew what would happen if I stayed here. The longer I remained, the more likely Hilliker would be to find out that I wasn’t in Purgatory. While I was certain I could fight off the compulsion charm, I wasn’t as certain that I would be able to stop him from using it to find me.
Desperation pounded in me as I let loose with another barrage of magic. This was even brighter and far more destructive, but despite the fact it struck the door with everything it had, it wasn’t quite enough.
My hair stuck to my brow as I tried once more. I was utilizing so much magic, it was lighting up the vault, sending shadows and light dancing around in a chaotic mess.
I tried once more. I gave it everything I possibly had, but it wasn’t enough. I fell down to my knees, panting.
Outside, I thought I heard another scream. I didn’t know why I could discern them. I shouldn’t be able to even begin to hear anything, but I couldn’t deny my senses.
Perhaps they had become more acute since my travel through Purgatory. More likely, it was because my magic was increasing.
As I remained there, still panting, my body rocking back and forth, I tried to let myself appreciate that fact. My magic was increasing. I dropped my hands and stared at my resurrection symbols.
I’d made it out of Purgatory, for the love of God. I doubted there was ever any other soul in history who’d managed that.
So if I could make it out of Purgatory, “Then I can make it out of this damn vault,” I finished my thought as I spat those words out.
I no longer randomly threw magic at the door. I concentrated, curling my hands into tight fists, using them to center my attention and ground my magic. I let it spill up my legs, push into my torso, and radiate down my arms. As the concentration encapsulated me, I let hope rise with it.
This vault was, ultimately, part of pocket space. I’d lived in a pocket space for the greater part of my life. I knew how they functioned.
They were carved off from reality by walls of magic. All you had to do was pierce through the magic, and you’d be able to punch a hole out of the pocket. That should be almost impossible in this vault – unless I could find a weakness.
Rather than get down on my hands and knees and search the floor and ceiling for any slight cracks, I let my magic do it instead. It spilled out of me in these strands that were reminiscent of how those two priests had fought me in the hospital.
Taking a leaf out of their book, I kept control of the strands as they made their way through the room. They delicately touched the walls and floor, trailing around like seaweed.
At first they found nothing, but I would not allow myself to become disheartened.
I kept concentrating until finally I found the slightest crack. It was so small, you couldn’t really define it as a break in the wall. It was more like a tiny dent. It was microscopic – and as such, it was highly unlikely that I would be able to exploit it.
“No,” I corrected myself immediately. “It’s highly unlikely that an ordinary practitioner would be able to exploit it.”
With that hope sailing through me, I drew those strands of magic back to myself. Then I took a deep, heavy breath. I opened my eyes. I spread my arms. It was the same position that I took up when I was being resurrected. It had once scared me to my core, but now I embraced it for what it was.
Without a word, I let light spill out of me. I directed it at that small crack. I pushed in and in then further in again. At first nothing happened, but then I started to hear these light cracks as if someone was putting too much weight on glass.
More sweat beaded and slipped down my brow. I ignored it.
I kept going until that crack grew.
I hadn’t thought of what I would do when I made it outside. Maybe it would be the perfect opportunity to go find my adoption records, but if the entire tunnel system was under attack, then concierges and security would be everywhere, notwithstanding the attackers themselves.
I would take it all in my stride once I got out of here.
I’d never been one for planning. That had gotten me into trouble too many times to count – let alone the sheer horror it’d caused in the past few days. Back in the past I hadn’t planned because I’d been arrogant. I’d known that, ultimately, even if I got into more trouble, I would just be resurrected. But now this wasn’t arrogance. It was a realization that there was more power within me. I just had to keep digging deep down to find it.
As that word echoed in my mind – deep – I finally did it. I exploited that micro vulnerability, and the vault door cracked. It happened suddenly as I blasted through the magic of this pocket space.
The crack was massive. I gave it a helping hand as I walked over, encapsulated my foot with magic, and kicked.
The vault door crumbled, falling out into the tunnel. At first it didn’t exist, but as I strode out, it had to make itself in front of my eyes.
Before it could, I saw three concierges down, blood dripping from their heads. They just hung in this black void until the tunnel appeared.
I didn’t need to check them to know that they were still alive – they were just out for the count.
I went to run, but I stopped. I dashed forward and checked the first guy for his key. It was gone.
My stomach sank. Did that mean that there were bank robbers out there? Worse than that, competent ones?
What if... it was Hilliker himself? While he might not know I was here, maybe he needed something from this vault system. The last thing I wanted to do was run into him by accident.
I checked the second concierge. His key had also been stolen. The third one didn’t have a key, either, but something told me to check his ankles. He had holsters there. There were tiny keys locked in them. I had no clue what they did, but I figured they must be useful, so I took them off him. I threw them into my subspace pocket. Then I gathered the concierges together and pulled them into the broken vault room. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it would be able to protect them. The vault at least remained even when the corridor didn’t have anyone in it, so it meant they didn’t have to hang in void space.
Once I was done, I ran forward. As the corridor continued to build itself in front of me, I paid utmost attention to the continuous shudders that rushed through the floor. They were violent, and they were only getting more so. As they shuddered up into my heels, ankles, and knees, I tried to judge just how much magic was being used to create them.
It didn’t take me long to conclude that it was a lot – a frightening amount. Which meant I was not dealing with any ordinary attack. The only people I knew who had this much magic were the priests of Hilliker or the man himself.
My gut twisted so badly I could’ve lurched to the side and thrown up. Who knew what would happen to the contents of my stomach, though? If I threw up in a section of corridor that hadn’t been built yet, presumably yesterday’s lunch would become a permanent fixture of the tunnel system, hanging out in the black voids forevermore.
I reached a T-intersection. I went to head to the left, but my gut kicked. I followed my intuition and went to the right.
My palms began to itch. At first I ignored it, but then I darted my head down and stared at my resurrection marks.
... They were glowing. It was slight, but it was there. They were never meant to glow.
I almost stopped. But I couldn’t afford to be distracted. There was another almighty shake. As it smashed into the floor below me, it was powerful enough that it forced me to jolt up. Once I landed back down, I flattened a palm on the floor. It seemed that the fight was happening in a tunnel system just below me.
... I had to make my decision, didn’t I? Should I go to the fight, or should I use it as a distraction?
I didn’t need to incline my head back in the direction of those concierges to realize that they were desperately outmatched.
But did that mean I could do much for them? If it really was Hilliker, I’d just be handing myself over to him, and things would get a whole lot worse – not just for the tunnel system, but for the entire freaking world.
Though it felt wrong and my stomach practically growled at me as if it were a wild beast upset that I was ignoring my intuition, I headed away from the scene. I soon came across what looked like an elevator. Though it wasn’t recommended to use such a contraption in a fire, one could extend that to an unholy priest attack. I didn’t have any option, though. I jolted inside. It was to the sight of a concierge down on his side, his hands over his head, his body shaking in fear.
As soon as he saw me, he jerked away.
Before when I’d said that the staff of this tunnel system were some of the strongest practitioners in the world, I hadn’t lied. So the sight of one cowering like this made no sense.
I reached toward him, but he snapped back, his head banging against the elevator wall. That’s when I saw the lines of dark light wiggling under his skin. They were almost about to reach his eyes. I had no clue what they were, but I wasted no time in jolting forward, grabbing his throat, and stopping them in place. The poor guy thought I was about to squeeze his head right off. As fear danced in his pupils, I saw him plead for his life.
“Don’t worry – you’re not my target. Just hold on.” I had no idea how to fight those wriggling black lines, but I took my mind back to what Sonos had said in the hospital. It was some form of unreality hex – deep, true chaos magic. And how do you fight chaos? Order.
As I held his throat, I concentrated on bringing order to his body. I didn’t need to map his circulatory system or know exactly what his neurons were doing – all I had to do was give his body the energy it needed to get over the chaos.
I kept my fingers secured around his throat until I felt the wriggling stop.
I pulled back. The guy stared at me, obviously waiting for me to crunch back in and snap his neck. When I didn’t, his fear caught up with him, and he jolted back, snatching a hand around his throat.
I rose. Without taking my eyes off him, I jammed my elbow into the control panel by the door. I had no clue where exactly the mob were keeping my orphanage records. As I’d already said, there were tens of thousands of tunnels – let alone vaults. I wasn’t about to check every single one on every single level – I just needed to get out of here. We were directly above the commotion. As soon as I put some distance between myself and it, I would figure out what to do next.
The guy continued to watch me. He looked as if someone had deboned him. As the elevator doors finally closed, I tugged my attention off them and settled them on him. “There’s no need to fear. I’ve counteracted that infection – whatever it was.”
“You work for them,” he hissed, real fear vibrating through his voice.
“Who?” I frowned.
“The attackers. Only they can control this magic. You work for them. You are an acolyte of the Banished,” he hissed.
I’d been content to ignore his paranoid mutterings, but as soon as he said that, I whipped my head around. My cheeks paled. No, no, no – damn it all to hell. He’d just confirmed my darkest suspicions.
It really was Hilliker’s priests out there. Which presumably meant the man himself would not be that far behind.
“I do not work for that bastard,” I spat. “Tell me everything about the attack.”
He shook his head, his eyes opening wider, his gaze becoming wilder. “Your kind will fail. The magical community will band together to rip you from this realm. You’ll be pushed into Purgatory forevermore. And you will deserve every single second of your punishment.”
I crossed my arms. “Trust me, buddy, I’ve already been to Purgatory. It ain’t that hard to escape. Now, I don’t really care if you want to believe me or not,” I said, subconsciously mimicking something that Sonos always said to me, “but the truth of the matter is I’m on your side. I would never work for that Hilliker bastard.”
“How do you know it’s he who attacked, then?”
I twitched. I was meant to be in a frigging disguise – but there was no point in one if you couldn’t disguise your knowledge.
I turned my nails in and scratched them down the side of my head as I realized the situation was catching up to me. “I have a history with that bastard, okay? Now, I came across three beaten concierges. I placed them in a vault room so void space wouldn’t mess with their heads. When this is all over, be sure to go find them.”
His eyes widened again. If he kept doing that, his eyeballs would fall right out of his skull and roll around on the floor by his crumpled body. “I’m not falling for this,” he hissed.
I rolled my eyes. “Like I said, I don’t really care. What you believe is up to you. But if you want a hand with those bastards out there,” I jammed my thumb down, “then tell me what’s going on.”
The guy said nothing. He just watched me as if I was a monster. The doors beside me pinged open.
I went to turn and get out of there, but that’s when I saw a veritable horde of concierges running my way. The corridor hadn’t yet been built between them and me. With every angry, pounding step, tiles created themselves and slipped under their feet.
The concierge beside me suddenly shunted up. He sent a charge of magic slicing into me as he pushed me out of the way. “One of the attackers is here. Help,” he screamed.
“Asshole,” I muttered as I shoved him in the back and pushed his attack off even as he used a full charge of magic to try to take me down. I quickly jammed my thumb into the electronic panel by the door. “I’m not your enemy. Why would I have saved your life if I was?”
He turned around and tried to snap his hands forward through the door to stop it from closing, but it was too fast. I caught sight of his eyes and the confusion flickering within.
I pressed another button, knowing I needed to get off this level as quickly as I could.
I didn’t relax casually against the back of the elevator as I waited for it to rise. I stood there, pumped my hands in and out, and let my magic rise. I even danced from foot to foot as if I was a boxer getting ready for a match. And I was. By now every single concierge in this place would be spewing through the tunnels to get to Hilliker’s men. And then of course there were the priests themselves.
The doors opened. In front of me I saw a purple robe. There was a tall man with his back to me. Before my heart could skip several beats and warn me that it was Hilliker himself, the guy turned. He still had eyeballs – which was telling. His face was marked with black and white lines. He reminded me of one of those white-clad priests from the hospital who’d tried to use my compulsion charm.
At first, the guy clearly thought I was nothing more than a patron, but then his gaze quickly flashed down to my hands. I hadn’t been careful – one was open and turned toward him. My resurrection mark was there for everyone to see.
“How—” he began in a throaty stutter.
“Time to knock you the hell out,” I spat. I shunted forward as fast as my little feet could carry me. I let magic spin around me, forcing me into him as if I was a projectile. I raised my elbow and jammed it into his sternum as I let sparks dance down his flesh. I didn’t leave it at that. Spinning around beside him, I shoved back into him, locked a foot on the wall for purchase, then knocked him clean over. I rolled over his form, slapped my hands either side of his face, did a handstand, then crouched down beside him. All the while, I let lethal charges of magic spill around me.
He went to grab something in his pocket, but I wouldn’t let him. I smashed my fists into his collar bone. It was a nasty move, and there was an immediate crunch. I broke his bones, but I sure as hell didn’t dent his spirit yet.
With a snarl, he spread his hands. That’s when I saw that there were marks on them. They glowed – or at least I thought they glowed. They had this energy within them, but there was no light – just its exact opposite. It seemed as if they were possessed with the power to absorb illumination like some kind of black hole. They had this unmistakable dense energy, too. Just being close to them made it feel as if they were sucking my soul out of my frigging body.
He didn’t even have to reach up and clutch his hands around my throat for me to feel as if he was trying to throttle me. I jolted back even as I planned to end this with a vicious punch across his jaw.
He growled, rolled to the side, and shoved up. Dancing forward with light feet and lithe moves that were at odds with his big, bulky form, he spread his fingers up. It looked as if he was combing them through the air – like he was trying to find some unusual particle or other substance. With a satisfied smile that blasted across his lips, he discovered whatever he was after. Then he opened his hands wide.
I was suddenly blasted back. Though I tried to hold on to my magic and protect myself, I couldn’t. I was lifted into the air. My hands were suddenly locked together, and they jerked above my head. It felt as if I was being chained up by nothing more than the man’s mind.
That became a distinct possibility as his eyes glowed this devilish black-red. He twisted his fingers about again, the movements jerky and uncoordinated. They looked like he was in spasm. But he clearly knew what he was doing.
My disguise fell off me. I lost the long blonde hair and the equally long jacket. I was back in the clothes I’d worn to Purgatory.
“Sacrifice,” the guy said. Clearly that was my name now.
“Bastard,” I spat back.
The priest suddenly launched forward, but rather than attack me directly, he locked his hands on his knees, arched his head back, and screamed.
I had to jerk my head to the side, my ears feeling as if they would pop.
The scream wasn’t just loud – it appeared to have the capacity to travel right through matter. As it shook through the room, I knew for certain that it pushed right down through the tunnel system. Hell, I wondered if it managed to shift further – as if one single shout from his black-vein-laced lips could reach around the world.
... He was calling Hilliker, wasn’t he?
I was screwed.
I tried to fight, but there was no way I could break myself free from this spell. I couldn’t get a handle on it. Every time I thought I understood what kind of magic he was using, it shifted.
I couldn’t detect strands around my wrists – nor invisible chains. It was as if he had somehow made the air decide to trap me.
To break through someone’s spell, you had to locate it first. Even if it was invisible to the eye, it shouldn’t be invisible to other forms of magical detection. But that was just the thing. No matter what I tried, I could not detect the location nor make up of his spell.
The priest locked his hands on his knees and screamed once more. The elevator behind me suddenly closed. He would be calling more priests through the tunnels toward him.
“Why are you even here, bastard? What is Hilliker after?”
He smiled. “The compulsion charm still works on you. We had our fears.”
I snorted, getting ready to tell him that I’d come here to find something on my own – but I knew that was suicide. Why share information with these monsters?
I could feel the elevator rumbling up through the shaft behind me. In a few seconds, we’d have company – and company meant it was even less likely that I’d be able to escape.
“How did you flee Purgatory?” the priest demanded.
I snorted. “As if I’m going to tell you.”
He twisted his fingers to the side. It was almost a graceful move. He caught hold of my tongue, and it suddenly jolted out of my lips. It felt as if someone had turned it into a lasso. It whipped around my mouth as he clearly fought to gain fine control of it. A few seconds later, he did.
“I figured out a way to transport from Purgatory,” I found myself saying. As soon as the words were out, my eyes opened wide in total, gut-wrenching fear. I’d just volunteered that information with no ability to stop myself.
The guy smiled, clear satisfaction marking his lips and drawing them wider. While his eyes were not the voids that now adorned Hilliker’s face, all of his veins were filled with black. They wriggled occasionally, bulging as if there were momentary blockages in his circulatory system. Now the tiny little capillaries that fed his lips became so fat, it looked as if they would pop. “What power did you draw on to get out of Purgatory?”
I was still wearing my cross – but it was tucked firmly underneath my top. I really needed some time to figure out what it was. It was clearly important – Sonos had told me as much. But how and where did it come from? Had I come across it by chance? Or had it been waiting for me?
When I didn’t volunteer the information, he reached forward again. He twisted his hands and regained control of my tongue.
There was a beep behind me, and the elevator doors opened. Three priests walked around me. They were in white and black robes. They looked like the guys I’d fought back at the hospital. While I’d had the ability to fight them and win then, there was nothing I would be able to do if I couldn’t get down from here.
They took up a defensive position behind that other priest.
“Tell me, sacrifice, how did you get out of Purgatory? What power did you draw on?” the primary guy spat.
“I prayed on the cross,” I said, my words hardly slurring together or sounding as if they were produced by a controlled tongue.
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
“I prayed on the cross,” I repeated. Though I couldn’t completely control what I was saying, and it seemed I had to reveal some form of the truth, I had the ability to decide how it was phrased.
“What does that mean?”
“I prayed on the cross,” I repeated. It was true. I just left several all-important facts out.
“God cannot hear you in Purgatory,” that priest growled. “How did you get out? Did you finally call on the power of the Deep?” Even as he asked that, I saw his eyes widen and fix on me with total glee.
Sonos had told me that I was a child of the Deep. I’d assumed that just meant I was a creation of Hell. Now I wasn’t so certain. As that guy mentioned the word, the three priests behind him looked even more alive. They’d hardly seemed like automatons previously, but now their faces lit up as if they were about to encounter the reward of the century.
I understood why Hilliker was doing this. As Sonos had already said, he was after power by any means. Presumably his priests had been offered some reward, too. At their reaction to the simple word the Deep, I realized it would be the source of their reward.
I shuddered. I should’ve taken some solace at that move – that it was possible despite the fact I was completely restrained and controlled.
“Have you accessed the power of the Deep?” the guy half screamed in a shrill voice that shook around the room.
“I prayed on the cross,” I forced myself to repeat despite the fact I could feel his compulsion magic spreading through my mind, trying to eke out the truth from me. Sorry, eke was the wrong word – it was trying to beat it, squeeze it, and dig it out as violently as it could. If my brain were a horse, he would’ve whipped it half to death.
“Wait until Hilliker arrives,” one of the other priests said. “He will be able to take the truth from her.”
I closed my eyes. How could I be back here again? Only a few hours ago, I’d escaped that bastard, but now I was back, back in this god-awful hell.
And worse?
This time I had no one to rely on. If they were so sure that Hilliker would be back, that meant one thing – Sonos had failed.
I’d been waiting for him to be killed my entire life.
Now... he was gone, and I would be alone forevermore.
