by Sever Bronny
Augum realized they were wearing new Dreadnought equipment! Luckily, neither wore Exot rings.
The men strode by, unaware of the group. Their burning blades allowed Augum to see that he and the others were invisible. He suspected it was the Chameleon spell that One Eye had once used on the trio, hence they had to stay absolutely still.
“I commanded two hundred souls,” continued one. “Now I’ll be commanding two hundred what, walking bones? Will they even obey?”
“Reavers are smarter than walkers. The training will teach you all you need.”
Suddenly Mrs. Stone became visible as she took a purposeful step forward, arm rupturing with a solid lightning sleeve. The hair on Augum’s entire body rose electrically as her arm shot forward. A massive bolt of quadruple-pronged lightning connected with one of the soldiers, exploding the flesh inside the armor, dropping nothing more than a smoking husk of steel. The burning sword clanged to the floor and snuffed. The other soldier recoiled from the blast before turning to face his enemy. His arm flared to life with eight fiery rings. He was about to reach for his shield when he saw who it was. Instead, he lowered his sword and snuffed out his rings.
“You.”
A pause as Mrs. Stone stood firm, arm rippling with energy. “Me.”
“Be done with it.”
“The tomb of the wife.” Mrs. Stone’s voice was cool as steel.
The man stood silent a moment. “Is that what you came for?”
Mrs. Stone raised her chin but said nothing.
“A great war between the kingdoms is coming, crone. The eternal night. We shall know victory, while you will only know anguish.”
“I can compel you, revenant.”
The revenant suddenly swung his burning sword to his neck, only to stop at the last moment. He grunted as his arm shook from the strain of trying to slice his own throat.
Augum noticed two fingers of Mrs. Stone’s right hand were raised. As she lowered them, so too did the revenant’s arm, even though the massive bulk of a man groaned from straining against the iron arcanery. The pair stood like this, in a battle of arcane will, until the man groaned from physical exhaustion and suddenly gasped, shoulders dropping. Mrs. Stone murmured an incantation. The revenant stumbled as if caught off-guard, then began growling again through gritted teeth, as if trying to block whatever Mrs. Stone was doing.
The steel returned to Mrs. Stone’s voice. “The tomb.”
The revenant growled louder through his teeth, fighting the spell.
“The tomb.”
“Down …” The growl increased, combining with spittle.
“The tomb,” Mrs. Stone repeated in a slightly more forceful tone.
“Down … below … Dreadnought …” Suddenly, as if a trap had been sprung, the man roared and sliced off his own head with the burning sword, finding the narrow gap between the helm and armor. The body flopped to the ground, the sword extinguishing. The group was left in cool darkness until Mrs. Stone’s lightning orb returned with a gentle pop.
“What did he mean by ‘the eternal night’?” Bridget asked quietly, the camouflage disappearing as soon as she moved.
Mr. Ribbons pointed at his muted throat. Mrs. Stone made an idle gesture so he could speak.
“Historically,” Mr. Ribbons began in a whisper, “the night represented fear of the unknown. It also represented demons, witches, or damnation, depending on the culture and epoch.” He coughed before raising a finger. “In ancient necromantic culture, I believe it represented the eternity that is death, and therefore eternal life. The Rivicans, of which we know little about—”
“—enough drivel, Husband. Archmage, what do we do about the bodies?”
Mrs. Stone was already shuffling over to them. She was breathing heavily, which worried Augum tremendously. It seemed arcanery was taxing her more than ever of late.
She made a small sweeping gesture and the detritus and bodies were shoved against the wall. Then she murmured an incantation over them and they disappeared.
“Invisible, for the time being.” For a moment, she only stared at the spot where the bodies and equipment had been, as if contemplating something ominous, before nodding. “Let us move on.”
They soon came upon a great set of double doors embedded into the slowly spiraling walls. They were ancient oak studded with iron and elaborate gilding. Far above them was a sign.
“ ‘Crypt’,” Bridget read aloud in a whisper. “Just like Castle Arinthian …”
Leera’s grip on Augum’s hand tightened. “Think they’ve plundered it for bodies?”
“From my understanding,” Mr. Ribbons began, putting a cloth to his lips to suppress a cough, “the older a body is the more difficult it is to raise, and the more powerful a necromancer must be.”
His wife nodded at the old sealed door. “They’re not strong enough to raise bodies that have been dead this long. Place hasn’t been touched in some time. No one goes in, it’s forbidden.”
Mrs. Stone patted Bridget’s arm gently. “Please ask Ms. Terse for a report, my dear, while I have a short rest.”
Augum and Leera helped her sit on a step while Bridget reached Jez. They only spoke for a short while.
“The siege is going well,” Bridget reported, putting away the Exot orb. “The Lord of the Legion’s troops are fighting Occulus’ old army that Leland has summoned. The fight is drawing more and more troops from the city. Jez—I mean, Ms. Terse—has told me to pass on that Leland has only summoned a small portion of troops right now.”
Mrs. Stone acknowledged with a slight nod.
“We’re not seeing much traffic here in the stairwell,” Augum said after a thoughtful pause. “From the spawnery and stuff, that is.”
“They must be using portals,” Mr. Ribbons offered. “Few use the stairwell.”
They soon got underway again, eventually coming upon another closed door, this one labeled Laboratorium. Like in Bahbell, it was likely a place for arcane experimentation. But the door was dusty and sealed tight, telling them it had not been used in some time.
“You still see them?” Augum asked Leera as they descended still further, referring to the shadows he barely saw anymore.
“Yes, but not as much.”
A long ways down, they reached a giant portcullis gate. The thick iron bars were rusted over, yet the marks in the dust indicated frequent use.
Mr. Ribbons paled. “This is the dungeon. People who come here … do not come back.”
“The Legion does not believe in … reformation,” his wife added in a dark undertone. “But they do believe in punishment.”
Beyond the gate, they could hear distant noises.
“Sounds like chains,” Leera whispered, gripping one of the bars. “There are people here now, aren’t there?”
“A great many, my dear,” the man said. “A great many …”
“They await their only sentence,” his wife said. “Undeath.”
“Eternal service to their master.”
Further down still, they came upon a blockage, a spot where the entire stairwell had collapsed. The ruins of rock and rubble were packed tight.
Augum jumped down onto a boulder the size of a small house and brushed a finger across its dusty surface. “Looks like it happened some time ago.”
Mrs. Ribbons turned to Mrs. Stone. “We have to find another way around, Archmage.”
“The dungeon,” her husband said darkly. “It’s the only way.” The two exchanged a knowing look.
“Mmm.” Mrs. Stone urged Bridget to begin climbing.
A ways back above, as they neared the dungeon gates, they once again heard voices and quickly snuffed out their lights. The scion on top of Mrs. Stone’s staff ceased its humming and went black as night.
“The castle has been breached,” said a sharp male voice above.
“How do you know, Master?” replied a quieter female one.
“Multiple sleeping and invisible bodies have been found in the cellar.”
/> A pause before a hesitant reply. “Is it …?”
“Perhaps.”
“Do we have reason to be concerned?”
“Very much so. Stay vigilant, Initiate.”
“And the siege?”
“It is—”
Mr. Ribbons suddenly burst with a reflexive cough and the voices immediately stopped. There were whispers followed by the sound of the portcullis rising.
But it did not close.
Allo Necro Atta
“It’s a trap,” Augum murmured in the pitch-darkness of the stairwell. It had to be. “They know we’re down here, and they know who …”
“We must abort and evacuate,” Mrs. Ribbons said in the barest of whispers.
“Mmm.” There was a soft rustling and the sound of a hand palming something. The divining rod, Augum realized. Nana was checking to see if the Lord of the Legion was nearing!
For a long moment there was only silence, then Mrs. Stone put away the rod before speaking in a quiet whisper. “Mr. Ribbons. Mrs. Ribbons. Let us confer on a ruse …”
* * *
The trio and Mrs. Stone followed a short ways behind the two black-armored Resistance fighters. The husband had draped his arm around the wife’s shoulders and was limping and coughing, making a show of being particularly weak.
“Can anyone help us?” the woman called, her voice echoing. The pair slipped under the giant portcullis, their way lit by two bracket torches on either side of the gate. Mrs. Stone and the trio followed them inside, immediately seeing rows and rows of dark, dingy cells with rusted iron bars. Augum did not fear being seen, however, for Mrs. Stone had, for the first time ever, cast invisibility upon them and herself. But it had come at a wearying cost for her, for she shuffled slowly along, helped by Bridget. Augum and Leera held hands tightly, ready to attack should the need arise.
“We’re two injured soldiers in need of assistance,” Mrs. Ribbons called. Her husband coughed loudly in support.
“Halt there!” a male voice said from the darkness. Fourteen glowing green rings of earth ruptured around an arm, revealing a black-robed man with a dark trimmed beard and fierce expression. His initiate was nowhere to be seen. Augum suspected she was hiding nearby.
“What are you doing down here?” the man pressed. “Who attacked you?” suddenly Mrs. Stone’s scion hummed as she made herself visible. Not a moment later, the man’s arm rings snuffed.
“You—!” The man reflexively smacked his wrists together. “ANNIHILO ITO!” but nothing happened. Augum recalled the snuffing power the scions had, but had not seen it used in person since the day his father murdered the residents of Sparrow’s Perch, what felt like a lifetime ago now.
The man gaped at his arm, perhaps willing the rings return. “How is that possible?” he asked. It was then Augum, to his relief, saw that he did not possess an Exot ring.
“You may reveal yourself, child, we shall do you no harm,” Mrs. Stone said in a firm voice into the darkness.
“To me, Persephone!” the man barked.
A girl stepped out from a nearby cell before rushing forth to join her master. Much like the trio, she wore a black and red vertically-striped necrophyte robe. She had a fair complexion, short, curly blonde hair, and looked to be about sixteen years of age.
“Master—”
“Shut up, girl,” the man hissed.
Something about the way he kept her close gave Augum the impression he was using her in the hopes of saving his own life.
“Does he know we are here?” Mrs. Stone asked.
“The Lord of the Legion? How am I supposed to know that, crone? I can tell you this, however—I do not know how you made it down here, but you shall not get out of here alive, that I guarantee you.”
“We seek the way down to the Dreadnought lair. Where is the entrance?”
“You are a fool if you think I will tell you anything willingly. Place is a labyrinth. You’ll never find it.”
“Mmm. Senna dormo coma torpos.”
The man collapsed, sound asleep, leaving the teenage girl to stand, quivering. “Please don’t kill me, I’m not like one of them, I’m just an academy—”
“—he is merely asleep, my child.” Mrs. Stone made an idle wave and Augum saw his own body appear, along with Bridget and Leera’s.
“Unnameable gods,” the girl whispered.
“Hi, Persephone,” Bridget said.
Persephone placed both hands over her mouth. “I had no choice. They threatened my family, Bridget.” Her head shook slowly from left to right. “I had no choice … you know my sister and father are Legion supporters.”
“But so are you!” Leera suddenly said. “You paraded down the academy halls with the others calling for an overthrow of what you called the ‘corrupt academy regime’.”
“I was different then. I didn’t know—” Persephone hid her face in her hands. “Believe me, I didn’t know … and now I know too much. I’ve seen … too much.”
“It’s all right.” Bridget strode forth. “It was a time of turmoil and confusion. It’s all right now,” and she embraced her. The girl buried her face into Bridget’s shoulder and sniffed hard.
“I still don’t trust her,” Leera muttered to Augum. “Ran with people like Robin and Haylee back when Haylee was a jerk. Ambitious too.”
Bridget whispered a few things into Persephone’s ear.
The girl nodded along. “Of course, this way.”
“Wait,” Leera said, indicating the sleeping man. “Have to hide him.”
The trio levitated him into a dark corner of a nearby cell.
“How long will he be out for?” Persephone asked.
“Some time, child,” Mrs. Stone replied, gesturing for Bridget to help her walk. The lightning lamp popped out of her hand and floated nearby.
“Who told you that sleeping bodies have been found?” Mrs. Ribbons asked, helping her coughing husband along. “Does the Lord of the Legion know?”
Persephone was already striding ahead.
“Hey, wait up there,” Leera snapped, catching up and grabbing her arm. “Don’t run ahead like that.”
“Sorry, don’t want to get caught.” Persephone glanced over at the hobbling couple. “And it was a guard from above, Lieutenant, using one of the portals. As for the Lord of the Legion, I have no idea, they don’t tell me anything.”
Leera glared at her suspiciously.
“I haven’t seen you around the castle before,” Mr. Ribbons said between suppressed coughs. “What are you doing down here?”
“Obeying Master. Training, if you want to get down to it. We have no choice but to try to be necromancers. I don’t enjoy it, but I don’t want anyone to think I’m part of the Resistance. That’d get me converted.”
Leera’s face twisted with skepticism.
“I’m sure you know how traitors and their families are treated,” Persephone added.
Bridget gave a compassionate nod. “I do. Please lead on.”
“Of course.” Persephone glanced down at Leera’s grip on her arm. Leera let go with a warning look that said she was watching her and not to try anything stupid.
“So what are you here for?” Persephone asked as she quietly led the way, eyes darting about in the dim light.
“Don’t worry about that,” Leera snapped.
“We’re on the same side, you know.”
“Are we now?”
They crossed a junction. Cramped cells continued to line another hall that stretched into the darkness. Goose bumps rose on Augum’s arm. The cells reminded him of a certain iron room, threats, and desperate times.
“I’m honored to be amongst you, you know,” Persephone said as she crossed yet another junction. “Can’t tell you how infamous you all are. If I could, I’d steal away to fully join the Resistance right now. Unfortunately, some of my family is serving.”
They arrived at another junction. Persephone nodded at a distant spot lit by dim torchlight, a spot from which came the sound of
prisoners moaning and begging. “The condemned are being held that way. There are guards there, but no warlocks as none are needed. As you may have guessed, warlocks taken prisoner are either killed immediately or converted.”
Mrs. Ribbons gasped. “That I did not know.”
“Anyway, we need to be quiet. There’s a stairway going down to the spawnery not far from here.” Persephone guided them down an opposite hallway. A series of turns and long hallways later, they came upon a torch-lit iron spiral staircase. It was crude and rusted over. She began the descent, only to be stopped by Leera.
“Aug and I will go first.”
Persephone nodded. “Of course.”
Augum joined Leera and the pair began descending, palms lit. The air slowly changed the further they descended, smelling more and more of rot and decay, but mixed with a bog stench that reminded Augum strongly of the spawnery in Bahbell Castle. At last, the staircase ended at a flagstone floor covered with moss and lichen. It was a narrow hallway, the walls of which were slick and moldy and stricken with thorny vine.
“Which way?” Augum asked.
Persephone stared at him a moment. Augum raised his brows curiously and she seemed to snap out of it.
“Sorry, it’s just that … you’re his son.”
“Not by choice.”
She stared at him uncomprehendingly before replying, “Uh, this way.” She led on, Augum and Leera close behind, followed by a hobbling Mr. Ribbons, who was helped by his wife, while Mrs. Stone and Bridget took up the rear.
They soon came upon a lump of rectangular rust. It took Augum a moment to realize it was an ancient iron door, so rusted over in the humid air it looked like a chunk of caked brown mold.
Persephone swallowed before whispering, “Behind this door is the spawnery. There shouldn’t be anyone in here right now because of the siege at the gates. But there will be … monsters. Don’t worry, they’ll be in stasis. On the other side will be the Grand Ol’ staircase.” She raised an arm. “Entarro,” and the door screeched open, revealing a vast cavern dimly lit with torchlight. A most rancid stench nearly bowled Augum over. Leera held her nose while Bridget tried not to retch. Shapes of all kinds were immediately visible, large, black and grotesque shapes. Augum recognized the thin skeletal outline of walkers, some bloated, meaning they had been freshly raised; and the hulking shadows of wraiths, with their goopy limbs and wet rags. There was a giant slug-like demonic thing, like an oversized larva, sitting in the bog. Countless other kinds of demons and grotesques merely sat there in the stench. In the distance he could make out two giant horns. The hair on the back of his neck rose … a bull demon.
