The urn was the size of large jug, it had strange engravings all around it and was dark grey in colour; it was like nothing Kristian had ever seen before. A large distinctive mark, a symbol, stretched across both the face of the urn and its lid.
“What is it?” asked Kristian.
Canola withdrew it towards his chest, covering it with his hand, as though protecting it from Kristian’s question.
“It’s an urn, an incredibly old urn made by someone very powerful, a long time ago. There are only a few around apparently. Hard to come by, rare I’m told. But I’ve seen two, once you’ve seen one though, you’ve seen them all,” Canola’s words did little to relieve Kristian’s curiosity, Canola merely exaggerating his own importance.
Staring at it, his mind raced trying to commit to memory every detail of the urn. Canola held the vessel close to his chest; he began to worry about what he had revealed. He knew it had been a mistake. To inform your enemy of your plans was a sign of being the weaker. A stupid blunder, so rarely made out in the real world. It didn’t matter to him, he thought, it wasn’t even his plan, he didn’t even understand the purpose or why Leceth was going to so much trouble, all Canola cared about was getting well paid.
“Well, sweet dreams. See you at three!” Canola sniggered as he backed out of the room, his hip pushing the door open, one hand clasping the urn, the other reaching for the light.
As the darkness returned to the room Kristian tried to bring his thoughts back round to escaping, but his brooding over Oliver’s fate kept intruding. There was to be one thought and one thought only, Oliver’s death! Those that had murdered Oliver were going to do away with him in the same dreadful way. Kristian’s whole being was overtaken by a strong and fearful emotion. Revenge! His paramount wish was to kill Cable, Canola and this Leceth! Rage fuelled him, his only friend at this time. He was going to make them pay, all of them, anyone who had had a hand in Oliver’s death. Informing the Order of Light of what had happened to Oliver, what had happened here today, all seemed so irrelevant. Revenge was his raison d’être now, and to fulfill his desire he had to escape.
His mind raced, Okay. I am tied firmly to a wooden chair by rope. Okay, I have tried jiggling and I didn’t move at all. The room is empty, maybe use the iron hooks on the walls. No, not possible. That train of thought repeated in his mind, as though the answer was there and he was just too blind to see it. Right, tied to a chair, jiggled a lot, haven’t moved at all, the room is… I’ve jiggled and not moved.
Desperately focusing hard, Kristian again produced another swirling ball of jade energy; the strength of his feelings seemed to enhance his power, the ball was bigger than the previous and shone even more brightly.
Looking down to his feet he could see the bottom of the chair. The wooden chair was fastened to the floor by metal screws that were fixed to the legs of the chair by metal brackets. Focusing his eyes, Kristian could barely believe what he was seeing. The screws appeared to be loose; they had been screwed into the floor but had somehow been slightly unwound back out.
How? Kristian wondered if it was his frantic moving that had lessened the screws’ hold. The morbid answer came to him suddenly: It was Oliver, he thought. He had been sitting in this chair before his own murder; he had painstakingly used his power to free the screws and then himself. Kristian instantly realised that Oliver must have shared similar thoughts to his; that it would be too dangerous to try and cut through the rope or the chair; you could accidently slice a limb off!
Limited time was not only a factor for Kristian, it must have been one for Oliver too; and for him time had obviously run out. Blankness and nothingness engulfed his mind, the green light vanished as he gazed at the floor.
Don’t die here today. Don’t let Oliver have died in vain. With that thought he snapped out of the emptiness. “Time to focus, time to concentrate,” he said.
Using non-palm projection, he began to focus on the screws, he began to visualise them in his mind. Holding onto that image, he started to use his powers to form a ring of energy around them. Sure enough, just as in his mind, rings of jade energy began to loop around the four screws holding the front two legs. The rings of thick green light began to tighten around the screw. This was the trickiest thing Kristian had ever tried with projection but also the most crucial. He needed to form energy tight around the screws but not so tight to cause the screws to break in half.
The rings formed, wrapping around the screws as closely as he was able to make them. He now needed to force them upwards towards his body. Straining to lift them, a slight stabbing pain pierced his mind. The screws weren’t budging. It was clear to him that pure force wasn’t going to remove them, he had to twist them out! Concentrating like he had never concentrated before, he began to turn the screws; the light twisted as did the screws, clockwise for nearly half a rotation, but in his mind’s eye he could see the screws sinking deeper into the ground. Instantly realising he was rotating the energy force in the wrong direction he began to spin it anti-clockwise. The screws slowly began to move upwards. Sweat began to pour from his face, he could feel it trickle down his forehead, into his eyes, making them sting, and then downwards over his cheeks, dripping off his nose and chin.
It seemed as if his own body was trying to distract him, to break his single-mindedness. His face started to crease up and become increasingly flushed as he renewed his efforts to remain focused, the increased strain started to turn the slight stabbing pain in his temples into a full-blown throbbing headache.
Not allowing the pain to intrude on his state of mind, his breathing became laboured; he was not sure how much longer he could keep up this level of concentration. A small but significant sound suddenly rippled through the air: three clinking sounds followed by another. The four screws rolled along the floor, ringing as they spun. Letting out one big sigh of relief, Kristian wondered how long it had taken him to remove the screws; it must have been over fifteen minutes, he thought to himself.
His chest still pained him as his lungs sucked much-needed oxygen into his body; his heart was thumping, pounding away with the tremendous effort that had been necessary to fulfill his task. Yet, at this poignant moment, he was almost brought to tears as the reassurance of success engulfed him.
Not only did he have two enemies to consider, he also had time to contest with. Without thinking, he pushed out, forcefully; a combination of pent-up energy and muscular release propelled him backwards. The chair arms that his wrists were tied to instantly snapped. The left arm broke into thousands of tiny splinters whilst the right broke in two, one fragment forced through his shirt, digging deep into his arm causing Kristian to let out a short cry of pain. The rest of the chair collided with the ground moments later creating a resounding noise, one that must have been heard outside.
The rope loosened around his arms and he quickly untangled himself. His left arm was peppered with several small splinters cutting his arm in places. The deep rope-inflicted wounds around his wrists were also bleeding. His right arm was another story: the large shard of wood dug into his arm, its sharp point penetrating muscle and pushing against bone. With his left hand he quickly yanked the wooden stake clean out of his arm.
Blood began to flow profusely from the open wound. Removing his blackened jumper he tore the arms off and wrapped them around his right arm stemming the bleeding. Although he gritted his teeth in an attempt to stop himself yelling, he was unable to control a small moan and then a howl of pain which he stifled with a bloodied hand.
With his now untethered hands he quickly released his feet realising that someone was bound to burst through the door in response to the loud noise. Freeing himself eventually from every restraint, Kristian darted for where he believed the door to be. Feeling his way in the darkness, he quickly found the door and, moving to the left, he backed onto the wall. The light switch was prodding him in the back; he knew he couldn’t turn it on, he had to wait and pounce on anyone that walked in.
Standing against
the wall, not moving a muscle, time passed quickly; before he knew it, twenty minutes had gone by and no one had entered the room. What was to be his next move? He was alert, his heart beating fast, responding to the excess adrenaline coursing through his body. Reaching for the door handle, Kristian decided to exit his prison and to his delight the handle twisted and the door opened freely, thankfully with little noise.
Slowly opening the door, Kristian was on tenterhooks wondering if Cable or Canola, or worse both, were waiting to ambush him on the other side of the doorway. Surely one of them must have heard the chair smash and his involuntarily cries of pain? They must have been otherwise occupied or they would have investigated by now.
Peering through the door, another sign of good fortune was waiting for him. A long corridor now lay in front of him devoid of anyone. Slowly and noiselessly he exited the room, pulling the door shut behind him. The corridor, lit only with dull light, was at least thirty metres long with only one other door at the far side. He rapidly scanned the hallway for windows, vents, anything he could escape through, but there was absolutely nothing. The door at the end was the only route; it was his door to freedom, a door through which he was going to have to pass no matter what was on the other side.
…
- Chapter Eleven -
The Party Crasher
Standing resting his head against the door, Kristian strained to hear the voices beyond. Three distinct male voices could be heard through the door; two were familiar, that of Canola and Cable, the third was unknown to him.
“So Leceth will arrive in two hours,” said Canola.
“It’s risky having him here. We should have Kronos here too. We did last time. When the other Phoenix was here!” said the third unknown man.
Kristian’s mind was in turmoil as he endeavoured to fathom what was going on. The Dark Phoenix, Tom was in on this whole thing too. Leceth’s plans were far grander than he or anyone else in the Order could possibly imagine. He felt relieved that Kronos the Dark Phoenix wasn’t there; he needed to escape, to send word. A fleeting thought of worry interrupted his mind: If Kronos is a part of this, then I hope Zhing is safe. He instinctively knew that she was; there was something about hosting Phoenixes that connected them all together.
His mind drifted back to his plan of escape; he knew that the door was his only exit and he was going to have to confront all those that lay behind it. The pain in his right arm suddenly intensified and shot though his entire body. He grabbed the wound with his left hand and squeezed tightly; the pain increased. All his muscles ached dreadfully and were tightening up. He could smell the blood from the wound and could think of only one thought. I’m going to kill them, I’m going to kill them all.
“Well he can’t be here, he’s being tracked by one of them. And for that reason Leceth doesn’t want him anywhere near here. I don’t trust him anyway. Tom might be contracted to the Council, but he’s still one of them. Carrying one of those things inside him. I’m glad he’s in La Cumbrecita, out of the way. Away from me,” the voice was clearly Canola’s, but not so cold, it was more somewhat resentful.
“You wouldn’t say that to his face, Canola. Leceth trusts him and that’s enough for me. Anyway, hasn’t one of us got to pick Leceth up from the airport?” the third voice said.
“Yes I’ll go, I have plenty of time. And I agree with Canola. All Phoenixes are scum, and when Leceth is finished with the ones born in the Light he will deal with the Dark Phoenix,” said Cable.
Kristian realised that he’d heard enough and though still fixed on revenge, his sense of duty asserted itself; he could now complete his original mission. He could return and report to Zhing on Tom’s whereabouts; he wanted to tell the Order that it was Leceth.
He pushed the thoughts of what he had heard to the back of his mind and began to focus on his plan of attack. Surprise is key, he told himself. Summoning his Phoenix Blade crossed his mind, but the loud noise that would accompany such a calling would surely ruin any surprise. Deciding against it, Kristian was content to rely on his Kar’sin and hand-to-hand combat skills; and in the midst of battle, if needed, he could call upon his sword.
…
On the other side of the door to Kristian the three Council’s agents were completely unaware of Kristian’s escape. Closest to the door was Volesh, the owner of the voice that Kristian hadn’t recognised. A vampire from a house in Leceth’s dynasty, Volesh was sitting on a sofa watching flickering television. Further from the door sitting at a table playing cards, gambling mountain-loads of money, were Cable and Canola glancing every five minutes at their watches.
The discussion about Leceth and the Dark Phoenix had ended some time ago and they were now debating who would win in a fight between various different breeds of demons and monsters.
“Okay, so a vampire versus a werewolf?” shouted Canola.
“Come on, you really think I’m going to say werewolf? So what, a wolf just three nights a month, I could take one as a man and I could take one as a wolf,” Volesh shouted back.
Canola and Cable both laughed; they both had graphic images of Volesh being ripped to shreds by a werewolf in their heads.
“Come on mate, even I wouldn’t be stupid enough to take on a werewolf when he’s all fur and fangs,” said Canola, his voice still raised.
“Well you’re not me. You two, at the end of the day, are just guys with powers. So what, Canola, if you’re a bit strong because you can ‘feed on energy’, big whoop! I am a creature of the night, of legends.”
Canola and Cable stopped playing cards, they began to contemplate whether they were offended by his remarks and before they could decide on an appropriate retort, they both just burst out into hysterical laughter.
“Creature of the night, hey! Well, with you on our side, why are we bothering with this ritual crap. We should just send you out against the Phoenixes,” Cable sniggered.
“Well I reckon I could take one. So what if they’re fast and strong, so am I. So what if they do that energy thing, I’m so quick they wouldn’t have a chance to hit me,” Volesh said tensing his muscles and enhancing his posture.
“You’ve changed your tune, sonny. It wasn’t that long ago you were all worried about the energy-drained Phoenix we have tied up in there, it wasn’t so long ago you were begging for that Dark Phoenix to be here holding your hand. It seems to me you are full of shit,” Canola said as Cable burst into fits of laughter again.
Rising to his feet, Volesh was outraged, not so much by their words, but by their constant laughing. “Stop laughing or I shall show you what vampires can really do.”
Both Canola and Cable took a breath and, not bothering to get up, merely glanced in Volesh’s direction. A few seconds of silence passed, suddenly broken by the pair laughing again.
“Right, that’s it!” Volesh said looking around for a weapon, but as he spoke a massive explosion reverberated through the room, deafening the three occupants. The room instantly filled with blinding jade light as the door near Volesh flew out of its frame and shattered against the opposite wall.
Leaping to their feet Cable and Canola strained to see what was happening, each of them rubbing their eyes. Moving quickly into the room Kristian could see a tall figure directly in front of him; having listened in to the trio’s banal conversation Kristian knew this figure to be the vampire and in no time at all Kristian was upon him. With a blow to the face and several high kicks to the chest Kristian had quickly grabbed Volesh’s arm, swung him back and arched his spine exposing the vampire’s chest. With his spare hand Kristian reached into his pocket and pulled out the large splinter of wood that not so long ago been impaled in his right arm. With one swift movement he plunged the wooden stake deep into Volesh’s heart; thick black mucus-like liquid began to spew out from the wound.
The other two men were still sitting at the card table as the speed of Kristian’s entrance was quicker than their reflexes. Having managed to shift their attention from the game to the doorway, C
able and Canola were taken by complete surprise to see Kristian stake Volesh so deftly. As Volesh’s limp body fell to the floor like a discarded coat the table clattered, overturned, as the pair leapt at Kristian.
Not even taking the trouble to look over, Kristian knew that the two men were now swiftly barrelling through the air towards him. His hand moving to face them faster than he could turn his head, a flash of fierce jade energy left his palm and smacked Canola cleanly in the chest, throwing him back against the wall.
Landing on his feet, Cable quickly realised he was far too close to Kristian; his advantage lay in fighting from a distance but he would have to make do and immediately raised his hand to send out blasts of his electrical energy. A bolt of blue energy forked through the air but Kristian reacted without thought and twisted himself out of the way, dodging the blast. Cable’s eyes now locked onto Kristian’s arched body; as his last blast dissipated, Cable slightly repositioned his hands, and with a flick of his fingers he sent more bolts roaring towards Kristian.
Kristian instantly dropped to the floor, again dodging the blast. His movements seemed to be taking only milliseconds not even seconds and before he could think about it he had already swung his leg out catching Cable behind the knee and bringing him to the floor. Cable hit the floor hard, completely taken by surprise; his lightning stopped abruptly. Quickly trying to scramble back to his feet and away he soon found himself with Kristian’s hands wrapped around his face.
Kristian now had one arm locked round Cable’s neck, the other hand clung tightly onto his head. He held himself back from his initial thought of killing him; one quick jolt and this man’s life would be extinguished. Cable’s humanity, no matter how tenuous that was, made Kristian start to question the morality of his options, but without any more thought, Kristian’s grip tightened and jerked suddenly and violently to the left.
There was a crunch as Cable’s neck was broken; his eyes rolled back and his body stopped writhing within seconds.
The Phoenix Chronicles: Alone in the Light (Book ONE) Page 18
