The Rise of the Fourteen

by Catherine Carter

  Mortas steps through the doorway cautiously, suddenly aware of the extent of the darkness around her. The air smells different here, she thinks. This is a bigger space, not another passage. She feels the walls just on either side of the opening, hoping for a better idea of their location, and finds an irregular shelf that seems to extend all around the room. There is a strange depression in the shelf, almost like a channel. She places her hand in the gully and discovers that it is full with a thick, smooth liquid. It doesn’t even feel properly wet when she rubs her fingers together. A spark of an idea forms in her mind.

  “Ferula, come over here a minute,” she calls. “Put one of your fire rods in this.” She gestures to the shelf on the right-hand side of the doorway. Tentatively, he ignites the silky liquid. It flares up instantly and the flames race down the ledge, illuminating a huge grotto, complete with an arching ceiling.

  As the brilliance finishes its loop around the room, the rest of the gang files in tentatively. The flames reveal a great chamber, filled with hundreds and hundreds of weavings and rugs. Some are hung on great displays; others half- finished, still on looms; and even more blanket the stony cave floor. Mortas unfurls the map once more and smiles. She holds it up triumphantly, so that all the mahi can see.

  “Welcome to the hall of rugs,” she says proudly, pointing to the aforementioned name in flowing aureate script in the lower left-hand corner of the parchment.

  38

  putting our training to the test with supremely bad timing

  The lofty ceiling and wide berth of the room are especially welcome sites after squeezing and crawling through various holes. The room has a distinct echo to it and the group holds its breath, afraid to disturb the air. Nuntios looks especially distressed, his jaw clenched. ‘What is it?’ Armifer mouths, looking at his friend in concern.

  “Voices,” Nuntios breathes, in a voice barely above a whisper. Armifer flinches involuntarily, remembering all too well the events at the academy. Nuntios squeezes his eyes shut, attempting to clear his mind.

  ***

  “This way, mahi.”

  “Quickly!”

  “They know you are coming.”

  “Follow the trail.”

  “Don’t you want to save your friends?”

  ***

  Nuntios feels a sharp stabbing sensation in his temple and falls to his knees, breathing hard.

  “Nuntios!” Armifer rushes to the other boy’s aid. Nuntios’s head is bowed, his eyes swimming with strain.

  ***

  “This way, mahi.”

  ***

  His head snaps up.

  “Nuntios?” Armifer asks uncertainly.

  “We have instructions to find.” His jaw has unclenched; and his eyes glow with the faintest sheen of ivory. Nuntios begins leading them through the labyrinth of weavings, occasionally ducking to avoid overhanging tapestries.

  “I don’t understand,” Arden says. “What is he following?”

  Callida takes a large breath, prepared to launch into a lengthy explanation. “You remember when Ferula and Mortas first came to the sanctuary? And I was like possessed?”

  “How could I forget?” Arden replies. “Luna had me running all over place, fetching towels, and food, and water, or anything.”

  Callida ignores his snide comment and continues. “Something similar is happening to Nuntios. Sapienter’s spirit must be guiding him towards the instructions.”

  “That’s reassuring.”

  Indeed, Armifer shares Arden’s sentiment as he walks closely behind Nuntios, making sure he does not stumble or fall. Nuntios’s eyes are still glazed over, his face blank.

  ***

  “Now, under these hangings.”

  “Take a right here.”

  “This way mahi!”

  ***

  Nuntios comes to rest in front of a small weaving, barely noticeable amongst all of the other rugs. It depicts the Arabian Nights. Dozens of intricate little scenes dot the fabric. Nuntios counts fourteen in total.

  ***

  “Your instructions await, mahi.”

  ***

  The alabaster shimmer over Nuntios’s eyes flickers, then vanishes and Nuntios falls to the ground, his head spinning.

  “A rug? The instructions led us to a rug?” Anima asks as she runs her hands over the threads. Nuntios is still sitting on the floor, trying to regain his composure.

  “Nuntios,” Armifer says. “It’s okay, the spirit is gone.” Nuntios shakes his head, his face pale. “You’re safe now.” Armifer instinctively wraps his arms around the other boy, ignoring any questioning looks Ámpelos may have been giving him.

  “There’s something else,” Nuntios says, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can feel another spirit.”

  “You’re just scared,” Armifer says, trying to reassure the shaking boy. But he’s not too reassured himself.

  “There’s a scroll inside it,” Callida says blankly. She reaches through one of the scenes in the fabric and removes an ancient piece of parchment. She then hands it to a grumpy Anima.

  “How does she know everything?” Faber asks, gesturing wildly to a smug Callida.

  “I knew that too,” a voice calls from somewhere in the room. The voice is slick and icy. It could comfort you, or make your skin crawl. Lacria instantly recognizes it and turns to Anima.

  “Anima, you have to go,” Lacria says. “You have to take the scroll back to the sanctuary, and keep it safe.”

  Anima looks at her, not comprehending, but is now all too aware of the distinct sound of footsteps.

  Lacria grips Anima’s shoulder, her sapphire eyes flaring. “Anima, this scroll is the last chance we have to restore the gift. You have to get away from here.” She gestures towards the direction of the footsteps. “He will destroy the scroll and then all will be lost.” Anima nods, not trusting herself to speak. “Go!” Anima hesitates, not eager to abandon the fight. “Think of your loyalty to your friends,” Lacria says sharply, all too aware of the danger.

  Loyalty, Anima thinks. That is what controls my actions now. Anima conjures a portal and slips inside, disappearing in a rainbow flash of light.

  “Who is he?” Terrance whispers scared to make too loud of a sound. He’s afraid he already knows the answer.

  “Andreas,” Lacria breathes, her face going white. A tall, slim figure rounds the corner and comes into view. His face is mostly concealed by the cowl of his dark hood, but Lacria can still make out the glittering yellow eyes.

  “Did you miss me Lacria?” Andreas asks snidely, reveling in her discomfort. His gaze passes over the assembled mahi. “And I see you’ve made some new friends. How quaint.” He takes a look at the surroundings once more, and smiles maliciously. “Any last words before I kill you?” he asks firmly, cocking his head to one side.

  “What’s to stop us from just portaling out of here?” Nuptia asks defiantly. “We’ll be gone in seconds.”

  Callida sighs. She already knows what Andreas’s answer will be.

  “Oh,” he says, as if genuinely surprised. “Because if you do, we will just follow you. We will burn your precious sanctuary till it is ash and rubble.”

  “Who’s we?” Ferula asks, trying to keep a brave face.

  Andreas just smiles. From all corners and cracks, they come to him—demons. They range from wisps of black smoke to massive shadowy warriors armed with glittering blades. Armifer freezes as he recognizes evomo, its spiny feathers prominent. The deities flicker and flash, disorienting the mahi.

  “You know,” Andreas says. “People always say ladies first. That’s so boring." He points to a stunned Terrance, still rubbing his eyes. “Let’s start with you.” He smiles cruelly and directs a misty wraith at the golden brown boy. It hurls an ebony shaft at the helpless lad, pointing straight at his heart.

  “No!” A bolt of sky blue light hits the spear mid-flight, scattering the shadows to the air. Andreas looks at Lacria, clearly astounded.

  “I will make sure you die
this time,” she says, her eyes burning with a fierce determination. She hurls another bolt at the wraith, and it explodes with a screeching noise, wisps of black falling to the floor

  “You shouldn’t be able to do that!” Andreas screams. “You,” he says, pointing at Lacria, “can’t use magic! Especially not down here!”

  Lacria looks at her compatriots beside her and smiles wickedly. “You shouldn’t be able to kill everyone I love,” she says coolly, her eyes thinning into slits. The mahi unsheathe their swords and raise them high in the air, eager to face the enemy. “This ends now.” The room explodes into a flurry of lights and the ringing of steel echoes around the cavern.

  “You used magic,” Terrance calls. “Lacria, you used magic!” He fights beside her in the thick of the fray, chaos all around them. Branches and vines have grown through cracks in the ground, and Terrance uses them to wrestle with a pack of feral dogs. Lacria battles a fiery horse, its eyes a soulless black. She alternates between shafts of light and knives as the creature rears its legs.

  “Of course I did,” she says, half-listening, “you were in danger.” With a final blow, the horse collapses, its fire extinguished. Terrance drops his arm in surprise and nearly lets one of the dogs escape. He turns his head to thank her, but she’s already gone, climbing a pile of rugs to help a struggling Nuptia, who’s currently battling a dozen ghostly warriors.

  She turns back for a moment and gives him a small smile. ‘Don’t die,’ she mouths. Terrance smiles back at her then turns his attention toward the dogs again, who are still fighting his vine’s grip.

  Armifer and Nuntios exchange grim looks as they see evomo approach them. The memory of its acid saliva and spiny features have not gone away. They lock eyes for a moment and nod in agreement. This thing has it coming, they think in unison.

  Nuntios confuses the beast, disappearing and reappearing in every instant that passes, occasionally firing sparks to annoy it. Armifer on the other hand keeps a steady stream of red energy stabbing at the creature’s chest. When he finally gets in reach, he uses his sword to hack at the creature’s legs, destabilizing it.

  “Armifer, look out!” Nuntios yells. Armifer barely has time to roll out of the way as an acid stream comes raining down past him. Armifer feels a burning sensation in his left calf and reaches down. A droplet has seeped through his pants and a red welt has already begun to form.

  Nuntios sees Armifer’s pain from his vantage point, and seethes. How dare you? How dare you put him through that pain I went through? Nuntios grips his sword tighter, knowing what he must do. This is the last time. He wills himself to teleport, and he appears on the creature’s back.

  He ignores the spines stabbing at his ankles and clambers up to the evomo’s neck, desperately trying to hang on. Once in position, he swings his sword, the steel gleaming like valor and vengeance. The creature's head is severed with a great squelching noise as Nuntios hacks through layers of sinew and muscle. He appears beside Armifer, to be with his friend as their tormentor finally falls in a lifeless heap to the ground.

  ***

  “I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up,” Erus says, clearly strained. For every wraith he fells, it seems that two more take its place. Luna and Arden stand beside him as they fire arrows and bolts of light, shaft after shaft of exploding luminescence. “Can we hope that Demetri and Sorem will come?” He doesn't even turn to look at his companions’ faces. He knows how pathetic he must sound.

  “We can only hope,” Arden says tiredly.

  “Until then, gear up, boys,” Luna asserts. “Assume that help isn’t coming.”

  ***

  “Demetri, how do we get in?” A distraught Sorem has been pounding at the passage entrance to no avail. “I know they’re in there.” The sounds of battle are clearly audible, but a sheet of granite bedrock stands between them and the mahi.

  “Sorem,” Demetri begins, trying to hide his fear.

  “What, Demetri? What do you have to say?”

  Demetri closes his mouth, unable to think of any comforting words. His eyes mist over, and he sees all of their faces in his mind. He sees Nuntios crying in his arms. He sees Lacria fighting his iron grip. He sees Anima in the subway. He hears Anima.

  “Demetri!” Anima yells, running from down the passageway. “Sorem! The mahi are in trouble!” She brushes past Sorem and fits her palm against the doorway. It reopens instantly, the granite crumbling into powder.

  “What are you doing here?” Demetri asks, relieved to see at least one mahi alive. She pulls them into the room and begins dragging them through the maze of weavings, towards the noise of combat.

  “Lacria made me portal the instructions back to the sanctuary. I’ve only just come back now.” Demetri and Sorem exchange looks. There’s only one reason they wouldn’t have portaled back themselves, they think, in unison.

  “We have to get you all out of there.”

  “How?” Anima says sharply, fighting back tears. “They are lost in the thick of the fighting.” Her point is further proven as she pushes back a pile of rugs to reveal Faber battling a pair of dark angels, using their own steel to strangle them.

  “You can’t save them.” Demetri and Sorem gulp, their throats tightening. “I can.”

  “Retreat!” Erus shouts, cupping his hands “Mahi, retreat!”

  Callida turns, confused by his request. Frenchie must have wimped out. A moment later, she understands. A magenta orb has expanded to encompass a large portion of the room, forcing the enemy back. Anima! Callida smirks as the creatures around her howl. No time to lose. She races towards the sound of Erus’s voice, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

  Sorem and Demetri stand behind Anima as she struggles to maintain the great dome. Demetri watches as Sorem conjures a portal, the rainbow lights dancing about her hands. She was always better at this than I was, he thinks. The other mahi have already assembled—all but one. There is a great sight of relief as Callida comes into view, apparently not dead.

  “Everyone in,” Demetri says, gesturing towards the open vortex. The mahi hesitate slightly, not ready to abandon the battle.

  “Everyone in,” Erus commands. “Mortas, Ferula, lead the mahi home.” All file in reluctantly, some pushed by an anxious Demetri. Soon only Erus, Anima, Luna, and Arden remain.

  “Come on!” Demetri urges. “We don’t have much time.”

  “What about her?” Luna yells. “We can't just leave Anima!” She stands beside the dark-haired girl and takes her hand. Luna channels her energy through Anima's body, and the shield glows brighter, just barely keeping the enemy at bay for a moment.

  Demetri takes this opportunity to shove a dumbstruck Arden through the portal, ignoring his screaming protests as he falls through the passage. Erus sees sweat drip down Anima’s forehead and grabs her other hand in an attempt to lend some of his power, but it is too late.

  “I can’t hold it any longer.” Anima cries. Luna tries to pour even more energy into Anima’s shaking body, but it is no use. Anima collapses and the aegis falls.

  “Anima!” Demetri screams. He grabs the girl’s limp form and jumps through the portal, not eager to see a repeat of what happened to Nuntios.

  Sorem turns and glares at Erus and Luna. “This portal won’t stay open forever! Come on!” She gestures to the two remaining mahi, still standing shell-shocked.

  Luna’s eyes widen suddenly as an ebony shaft crosses her vision. “Erus, look out!” She jumps in front of the French boy just as a beam of shadow comes hurtling towards him. It hits her square in the chest, the arrowhead piercing her heart.

  She gasps in pain and vainly tries to pluck at the barb, but her hands fail her, merely passing through smoke. She grunts in pain again, tears beginning to fall down her face. Ice lances through her core, crescendoing until there is no feeling, only numbness.

  She claws at her chest, but to no avail, and sinks to her knees, her consciousness slipping away. Her eyes cloud over, and she feels one last shaky
breath leave her body before she collapses entirely, falling to the cave floor.

  “Luna!” Erus grabs her limp hand, but it is already cold. He squeezes it tightly, but barely maintains his grip on her as Sorem drags him through the shrinking portal.

  39

  the thirteen mourn

  Heroines are meant to have last words, Erus thinks bitterly. They’re supposed to have moments to remember everything they did, everything they stood for, everyone they saved. He looks down at the dead girl’s hand, which he is still holding. She did save my sorry ass in the end, and she didn’t even get to say I told you so.

  Erus keeps looking down at Luna’s limp hand and her lifeless eyes, only because he can’t bring himself to face Arden, sitting on the opposite side of Luna’s body. They sit, in silence on the marble floor of the sanctuary foyer, where it all began. The light that streams through the high windows is eerie and foreign. The staircase is shrouded in shadow, teeming with apparitions.

  The usually rambunctious crowd is quiet and solemn. Ten mahi stand vigil, barely breathing, not speaking. Mortas took one look at Luna’s corpse and fled the room. Ferula had followed her swiftly, and it had all become silent once more. They sit and wait for the longest time—waiting for a miracle that isn't going to happen.

  It’s funny, Arden thinks bitterly as he looks at his dead sister, that we have seen hellish creatures and can wield colorful flames. I can shoot beams of light from my fingertips. I have friends who can read minds, force people to their knees, and bend water. But you cannot cheat death. You cannot play God. He looks across at Erus, his eyes burning. But some of us are luckier than others.

  Callida can feel it swirling in the room—the regret, the pain, the loss. She can read the guilt in Erus’s mind, and the anguish in Arden’s. She can feel the hole where Luna was, her mind no longer reachable. And it is all suffocating. She can barely hear her own thoughts, so loud are the thoughts of others, and her head begins to spin. The marble floor collides with the vaulted ceiling in her vision.