by D N Meinster
The tops of most of the coffins in the room began to shake, and Rikki had a horrible vision of what was to come next. The stone lids rose up, opened by skeletal hands. Just as Spira had turned the living into her puppets, so too would she command the dead.
"You're sick!" Rikki screamed. She used her staff to lift up a nearby lid and smashed it back down onto its occupant, crushing the withered hand.
"Imagine what I could do if they hadn't eradicated my staff!" Spira retorted.
Rikki propelled her staff forward, pushing a corpse back into its sarcophagus. But several more bodies were rising from their resting place, and she was slowed down by her injuries.
Chills ran down her spine, and her stomach turned as decaying flesh and partial skulls became visible from their tombs. She didn't want to see this nor fight this. Rikki waved her staff above her head, and flames bounced from the torches around the rooms right into the open coffins. Their occupants caught fire, but the blaze didn't hamper their movements.
It was no use focusing on the puppets. She had to target the puppet master. Rikki aimed at Spira, but a flaming hand grabbed on to her staff. Rikki knocked the corpse back and got an idea. She pointed her staff at the flaming body, lifted it up, and hurled it directly at Spira.
The Thalian must not have seen this coming, for the corpse made a direct hit and sent her flopping to the ground. All the bodies around her went motionless and dropped in place.
Spira pushed the flaming corpse off of her, only to find two silver wings right in her face.
"Does this desecration bring you joy?" Rikki asked her.
"It is a necessity," Spira growled through bared teeth. "We only do what we have to."
"To what? To win?"
"To bring him back!" Spira grabbed hold of Rikki's staff and shoved it to the side. She thrust Rikki back and prepared to raise the remains of the corpses from their positions.
Rikki swung her staff right into the side of Spira's head. She circled the Thalian, smashing the silver weapon into her side, her leg, her other side, and her neck. And then, without making physical contact, Rikki sent Spira sliding backwards into one of the coffins that remained unopened.
"Neanthal's staying right where he is," Rikki said.
"Why are you so devoted to Her?" Spira shrieked. "She only holds you back."
"She is the reason I am anything," Rikki replied.
"You think you owe Her, but you are truly Her slave. She lives inside you to exploit and control you. Neanthal can show you what you are to Her, just as he showed me."
"You betrayed the one who gifted you," Rikki stated with increasing severity.
The stone beneath Spira's fingers turned to liquid and encased her hands before solidifying. The Thalian tried to break free but was stuck to the coffin. When she prepared to shift, she felt a blow to her head made by an invisible hand.
"Turned to the Corruption," Rikki continued.
"He set me free!" Spira yelled.
"Manipulated the will of others."
"You are the one being manipulated!"
Rikki's eyes turned a fierce shade of green, matching the color of her channeling crystal. "Partook in the death of an innocent boy!"
The stone crumbled away as Spira broke free from Rikki's trap. She extended her hand toward Amelia's heir, trying to take control of her body once again.
A stream of flames shot out from Rikki's staff, flowing directly into Spira's eye. Half her face was consumed by green fire for only a moment, before it completely dissipated.
There was only one lifeless eye staring back at Rikki. Where the other had been, there was now only a gaping hole, deep enough to reveal the portion of the room behind Spira's head.
Spira's body remained standing, and Rikki kept her guard up in case the sin mage had managed to survive. However, Spira did not move or react when Rikki neared her.
Rikki tapped the body with her staff and it fell over. She watched the remains of this resurrected Thalian, perhaps expecting a sign of Milo's soul to emerge from her. She did not enjoy taking this life. She knew she had to, that there was no choice for herself or for Milo. Killing Spira brought her back to her natural state, but it was still detestable. She wanted evidence that her actions had benefited her deceased peer.
She knew she could not linger in these tombs very long. When nothing materialized from Spira's body, she left the Thalian amongst the other burning corpses and headed toward the tomb's exit. Hatswick was at the Door with Leidess and the keys, and she may have already been too late. The battle with Spira had consumed an enormous amount of time. Neanthal could have already been freed. Her friends could have already been killed.
Rikki summoned her necklace into her hand and strapped it back on while running out of the tomb. Once her necklace was secure, she started wiping her face on her dress as she went. Her white outfit was already stained with a mixture of her and Spira's blood, but she was making it worse with every pat.
Emerging from the tombs, Rikki took in her surroundings. She was in a graveyard exactly similar to the one where they had first found Ratch and Leidess. She wasn't sure it was the same one, but it had an equal amount of tombstones sinking in an ocean of sand. The sun was bright in this desert, and the heat quickly dried the remaining blood to her face.
Rikki closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, absorbing the natural warmth that was completely absent underground. She opened her eyes back up and took off before they could even adjust to the light.
She scrambled down the rows, heading toward the Absentia Desert. Rikki was careful not to trip on partially concealed headstones, often hopping around areas where she approximated a low grave might be.
It was quiet her whole jaunt through the cemetery, with not the sound of a revived corpse or a scream in the distance to disturb her. She hoped that meant there was still time; that Hatswick had not yet accomplished his task.
When she arrived at the edge of Kytheras, she searched in both directions and let out an expletive. The Door could not be seen, and Rikki had no idea where she was, let alone where the Door might be.
Rikki could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Her body was still reeling, and her constant motion had kept her mind off of it. Yet even worse was that every moment's hesitation brought her friends closer to disaster. If they had made it to the Door, they did not stand a chance against Hatswick.
While Rikki stood there, debating which direction to travel, she heard the faintest clutter behind her that sounded like footsteps in the sand. Silently hoping it wasn't another reanimated corpse, she swung around, her staff ready to strike.
The tears fell from Rikki's eyes as Mirabelle let out a tiny neigh. Her staff fell to her side and she ran up to her horse. "What are you doing here?" Rikki asked, choking up as she stroked her horse's mane.
Mirabelle rubbed her own head against Rikki, and the two embraced for a minute before Rikki realized she had no time to spare. She looked over Mirabelle, then at the silver wings on her staff, and she knew what she had to do.
Rikki was afraid, but she did not have a better option. She could run Mirabelle ragged trying to find the Door, and potentially never reach it. Or she could get a better view from up above and make it there faster than she could on land. It made sense, but that didn't make it easy. Did she have it in her to do this? Did she have the strength to do this after her battle with Spira?
"No choice, no choice," she whispered to herself as she touched her staff to Mirabelle's side. "I hope I don't kill you."
Mirabelle gazed at Rikki with one eye, her body tense as if she knew what was coming.
The channeling crystal atop Rikki's staff glowed bright white, easily visible even with the sun beating down on them.
From Mirabelle's sides, two wings sprouted, tiny at first, like that on a normal-sized bird. But the wings grew, longer and larger, until they were wide enough to carry a horse. They were beautiful, feathered, with one completely brown and the other mixed with white.
Rikki
lifted her staff, but stared at the pegasus, astonished that she had managed the transformation. She shook her head, trying to maintain focus on her destination.
"We've got to get to that door," Rikki said, and she climbed onto Mirabelle's back. She wrapped her arms around her horse's neck and spoke into her ear. "Up."
Rikki hid her face against Mirabelle and softly prayed that the wings wouldn't disappear as soon as they were airborne. It would not have been an unusual occurrence for a mage that wasn't yet ready for a pegasus. But it couldn't happen now. These circumstances were beyond any a mage had faced in hundreds of years. These wings would last.
Rikki lifted her head as Mirabelle ran forward into the Absentia Desert. And, with one flap of her wings, they rose up into the air.
Chapter Twenty-Three
End of the World
The Door had no locks, no obvious place to insert a key. It was never meant to be opened. They could have tossed him inside the manufactured realm and closed it without any means of entry or exit. But that is what the Goddess had done, when she tossed him in the Pit. And Neanthal had escaped.
Amelia must have believed herself wiser than the Goddess, for she invented this scheme to keep him locked away. If there was only one way in and one way out, Neanthal would have nowhere else to look and no weakness to exploit. They only had to make sure that the barrier keeping him in was robust enough. It was a surprisingly successful idea, sustained for three hundred years.
The keys floated out of Hatswick's cloak, buzzing through the air until they encircled the Door. They hung there freely, ready to unlock that which they were pointed at.
Through all of her planning, Amelia could not have predicted this. Hatswick was going to be the one to best her. She who had lauded herself over him for most of his life would finally experience her first measure of humility. It didn't matter that she was not alive, for she could surely witness it from Magenine's Bastion. She would see how capable he was. He didn't even need to gather her keys. He made his own.
Hatswick dabbed at the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve. The hat and cloak were not appropriate attire for the Absentia Desert in the afternoon. At least he was at the only location in the region where there was shade.
Hatswick lifted Leidess' body from the ground and moved it into the shadow of the Door with him. He kept his staff positioned above her body, which hovered before him like she had been laid out on an invisible plank.
Leidess was the last of her kind: the only remaining descendant of those that betrayed Neanthal. She showed no physical resemblance to her forebears, as none of them had fair skin or golden hair. This girl's beauty radiated such a brightness that no one would ever suspect what she truly was. But such a facade merely masked what was underneath.
Neanthal forged his army from his own soul, in almost mimicry of what Magenine did with her mages. Ironically, just how some mages had turned on the one that empowered them, those that Neanthal created changed sides as well. Yet no matter who they fought for, they still had a fraction of Neanthal lying dormant within them. And they passed that attribute down from generation to generation.
The channeling crystal positioned above Leidess flickered multiple times between yellow and black. Hatswick took in the moment, the final step of his ritual. Years of planning were about to come to an end. He gave the girl a smile, and then ripped the staff away from her body with an incredible force that rustled the sand around them.
From her body erupted a giant pillar of gray smoke. It was a deep, dense smoke that reached into the sky, expanding the shadow that Hatswick stood in. His eyes were transfixed on what he had released. Her soul contained the essence of Neanthal. Her soul would open the Door.
The bystanders by the Door became apparent as they neared their destination. There was a man, clearly wearing a hat, standing close by, with another lying at his feet. Doren removed his shield once he saw them, unable to contain the fury brought on by this treachery.
Hatswick was the Grand Mage, his father's most trusted advisor. He was every king's most trusted advisor since Amelia's passing. Why would he do this? Why would he open the Door that he himself had shut? Doren needed an answer. He needed this to make sense. And that trilby hat would drip with blood until he was satisfied.
"No time to waste," he told Aros, and he took off toward Hatswick. He was relieved to see a glint of golden hair as he neared. Rikki wasn't there. But was she even worse off?
Doren dropped to the ground as a spear came flying at him. He remained flat on the sand as it missed him and his companion.
"Stay still!" Sarin urged, coming into focus just a few feet in front of him.
Doren pushed himself up with his shield and readied to strike. Sarin was in the way, brandishing two spears in his hands.
"This is going to be too easy," Sarin said. "You don't even have the mage with you. Why bother coming? Even if I don't kill you, do you think you stand a chance against him?" He pointed at Hatswick with his spear.
"The Goddess is with us," Aros said with his clawblades ready.
"Oh, the Goddess! I guess I should just give up," Sarin mocked them.
"Aros, save Leidess," Doren instructed. "I'll deal with him."
"But – " Aros started.
"Go!" Doren screamed before he could finish, and he leapt at Sarin shield-first.
The tips of Sarin's spears grinded against the bronze shield but failed to leave a scratch on the enchanted metal. Doren swung at each of Sarin's arms, opening up a space where he could slam into his chest.
Sarin skidded back, leaving a trail in the sand. Sarin's eyes bulged with delight. "Where was this prince before?" Two more spears appeared, each one hanging near Sarin's arms.
"You know what happened to your friends?" Doren taunted.
"Same that's going to happen to you," Sarin shot back, and he leapt at the Prince.
Sarin swiped with the spears in his hands, while those at his side poked toward Doren.
Doren dodged the first attack, which didn't have the reach of the floating spears. Those he had to block with his shield. "I'm starting to wonder why we ran from you."
Another set of spears appeared at Sarin's side. "I'll remind you!"
He sent two spears at Doren, who smashed his shield down on them, forcing them into the sand. Doren swooped up one in a free hand and sent it back at its hurler.
The spear stopped right before it could embed itself in Sarin's chest. "Did you think that would work?" It flipped back over and zoomed toward Doren, accompanied by two more spears.
Doren smacked all three spears out of their path, sending them tumbling through the air. With the spears at Sarin's side gone, he made another charge at him.
Sarin drew first blood, the tip of his spear making a linear gash in Doren's arm. But the injury did not forestall Doren's attack, as he bashed his shield against the side of Sarin's head.
Sarin fell sideways into the sand, part of his mask concealed beneath the grains. "This is bliss," he said, before hopping right back onto his feet and thrusting a spear at Doren.
The spear collided with the shield, though Sarin pushed at it, forcing Doren backwards. Two spears again appeared at his side, and they struck at the Prince, who fell into the sand trying to avoid them.
Sarin raised his arms back, preparing to stab Doren with all four spears. But Doren used this brief pause to hurl his shield at Sarin.
The shield bounced into Sarin's chest, causing him to stumble back. Doren caught the shield before it dropped and spun around to Sarin's back. He swept the shield at Sarin's feet, causing him to trip back onto the ground.
Sarin was staring upward, so he saw Doren's shield coming when it whacked him in the face.
Doren was immensely pleased as a crack spread out from the eyehole of Sarin's mask. He readied another blow, but Sarin shifted away before it could land.
Doren spun in all directions, frantic that Sarin could appear from anywhere and drive a spear into him.
"All of you Th
alians are cheaters!" Doren shouted, unsure if Sarin could hear him. "I have one weapon. Just one! How many do you have?" He searched around, still unable to see his foe. "An unending supply? Pretty obvious that's the only way you stand a chance!"
Doren was suddenly encircled by spears, each one ready to ram in. He choked back a sudden sense of hopelessness and readied his weapon. He swung his shield toward the first group of spears, but they all dropped to the ground before the bronze metal made contact.
Sarin reappeared in front of him, a spear in each hand. "See how easily I could kill you? But where's the joy in such simplicity?"
Doren's arms started shaking, forming a noticeable vibration in his shield. Sarin was right. He needed a partner at his side to survive. He wanted to check on Aros' progress but giving Sarin even a moment could lead to his death.
"You're afraid," Sarin hissed. He bared his uneven teeth in a horrid grin. "I love it."
"Rikki," Doren whispered. "Where are you?"
"That's it," Sarin said, closing in. "Cry out for your friend, who's never coming. Let out your misery. Let me feel your pain. It makes it all the more pleasurable."
Doren took a breath, tried brushing the sand off his outfit, and raised his weapon. "You are one sick bastard."
The spears and shield collided once more. Doren blocked all of Sarin's incoming hits but failed to manage his own.
Sarin aimed high, and then low, but Doren inserted the metal between them to take the brunt of the assault. The best Sarin managed was to cut into Doren's robes, but it missed the skin underneath.
Doren, meanwhile, could not get another opening for an attack. When he managed to smack one of his arms away, Sarin would spin back so Doren couldn't land a strike.
"I know you think this is cheating, but..." Two spears again appeared at Sarin's side. "This is a stalemate otherwise. And that's not even a little pleasant."
"At least you know you can't beat me any other way," Doren replied.
"Those years underground may have made me rusty," Sarin relented. "I have an idea! Once you're dead, I'll resurrect you in a few hundred years and we can battle again. That seems fair."
