Undead Chaos (19 page)

Simeon made another motion and a second follower was thrown backward at blinding speed. The man collided with my barrier, and there was an explosion of psychic energy. The victim, suspended at the point of impact, went rigid, and his scream echoed off the thick walls of the prison. He convulsed several times before collapsing to the ground with a thud.

“Enough,” The Conduit said, curling two fingers. Simeon was thrown to the ground and the spell he was forming deteriorated into wisps. He continued to strain as hands lifted him onto his knees.

The Conduit nodded to his remaining men, who dropped the barriers of the two cells next to Simeon’s. They pulled the half drugged, half conscious beings from within. One was a Skilled human male, dirty and reeking of excrement.

I stared in shock as the other prisoner was dragged into view. The missing female Elf from Millie’s was limp and her hair in complete disarray. Her eyes were glassy and her tunic stained with vomit. A large purple bruise stretched across her cheek.

“What the hell are you people thinking?” I asked. “Her clan will gladly wipe you all out for harming her.”

“It’s worth the risk, Marcus,” The Conduit said, then turned his back to me.

The men dragged the prisoners into Simeon’s cell and forced them into positions behind the famous Necromancer. The Elf whimpered as they made small cuts on her palms and guided her bleeding hands onto Simeon. They repeated the process for the other prisoner, then themselves. Once set, the followers closed their eyes and began humming.

The Conduit spoke several inaudible phrases, sliced his palms, then placed his own hands on Simeon’s head.

The room instantly went cold. Lights dimmed and the breath of the agents came in quick, shallow gasps. A quiet hum slowly grew until Simeon joined it with a howl from the depths of his soul.

The human prisoner’s eyes snapped open, and he added his own wail into the mix. He tried to pull his hands away, but they would not respond. His face turned a sickening shade of white and he began to thrash. When it sounded as if his voice was about to be torn from his throat, the spell released him. He staggered backward, clawing at his face before collapsing into a motionless heap.

One of The Conduit’s men started screaming, but unlike the Skilled male prisoner, he made no attempt to draw away from Simeon. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing himself into the spell. He cried out and fell face first against the floor with a nauseating thud.

Quinn shouted to her father, but her voice was drowned out by the inhuman screams emanating from the Elf. Her piercing cries echoed off the prison walls, and soon the remaining followers joined her. The sound was deafening and matched the growing energy radiating from the cell.

The Conduit began to tremble, but held on for several seconds more before being engulfed by a blinding flash of light. The prison was plunged into unnatural darkness, and for a few eerie moments, everything was quiet.

The lights eased back into existence, and I was aware of shadowy figures across from me. The silhouettes kneeled before the fallen bodies.

“Both dead,” one of the followers rasped.

“Their gift of life will not be spent in vain,” The Conduit said in a weak and shaky voice. “And the Elf?”

The follower examined the female.

“Alive, my lord.”

“Only two lost this time,” The Conduit replied with a satisfied nod. “That actually went better than I’d hoped.”

“What shall we do with her?”

“Return her to her cell. We may be able to use her one last time before she gives out.”

The follower gathered the lithe woman into his arms. As they passed, The Conduit placed his hand on the shoulder of the silver-haired beauty.

“Such an amazingly durable creature. We were lucky to find her.” Then he stepped out of the way. His man carried the Elf into her cell and gently deposited her on the floor. She lay there, quietly sobbing as the follower reactivated the defensive barrier.

The task of removing Simeon’s victims took a bit longer. The Conduit’s four surviving men lifted their compatriot slowly off the metal bar and pulled the other one from in front of my cell. They dragged the corpses down the hall and out the door while their master used his Skill to bend the broken bar back in place. Once it was secure, he closed the Necromancer’s door and rearmed the barrier with a sad gaze.

“Sacrifice is never easy,” he said, wiping his hands on a stained handkerchief. His aura popped with even more energy than before, and the twitching returned in force. “It pains me to ask any being for the gift of life, but all messiahs face these choices in due time.”

“Did you just liken yourself to the Son of God?” I asked in a hushed voice.

The Conduit turned to me and bit his cheek in thought. “I hadn’t thought of that, but I suppose there are some similarities. History will remember us both for seeking to improve the world through sacrifice.”

“You realize that He was the embodiment of love and forgiveness and sacrificed
Himself
for humanity. You, on the other hand, just murdered two people.”

The Conduit shrugged. “Different shades of gray.” He bowed his head formally. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Marcus. I wish you luck surviving the coming storm. If you do, then perhaps we can talk again once utopia has been realized. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” With that he walked quickly down the hall and exited the room.

Quinn called to her father, and I turned my attention to Simeon’s cell. It was still bathed in darkness so I listened carefully, praying to hear anything from the man. Several seconds later, Simeon released a groan.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Quinn asked desperately.

“No,” he replied in a weak, hoarse voice. “But I’m alive.”

“What happened?” I demanded.

There was a long pause, followed by a gasp.

“Simeon?” I called. “Simeon!”

“It’s gone,” he whispered.

“What is?”

“My Skill,” he said softly. “They drained me of my Skill.”

Chapter Sixteen

Up and Out

“We need to get out of here,” Quinn said.

Only minutes had passed since The Conduit’s departure, but the draining of Simeon’s Skill left a void in the magical field around us. The empty pit where his magic should be—along with the psychic stench of death from the four murdered men—was unnerving.

I agreed with Quinn wholeheartedly.

For starters, The Conduit had somehow managed to transform himself from a Skilled individual into a magical storage unit. It certainly explained the bizarre energy fields surrounding him and the crazed, involuntary twitching.

The rumors of the homeless and destitute vanishing from the streets also made sense now. No one would notice the downtrodden when they went missing. Granted, rumors had run rampant about the disappearances, but that’s all they had been.

Until now. We’d just witnessed proof that Quaos was behind the vanishings and, considering the Elf, ramping up their game. The Conduit had even claimed responsibility for Banks.

Obviously things were coming to a head.

Why else would he risk admitting his plans to us?

I’d only had a glimpse of The Conduit’s vision for the future, and that snippet was enough to terrify the crap out of me. A being that unstable and carrying that much power was a time bomb ready to blow. If his plan succeeded, there would literally be hell to pay.

The only positive from the situation was that I finally had the evidence needed to clear Simeon. The Council might hem and haw over the details, but my sworn testimony before the Elders would stand up to any truth spells. The facts about Banks alone would be enough to remove Simeon’s death sentence and give the Council the ammunition needed to destroy The Conduit and his lackeys.

Quinn was right—we needed to escape.

The problem was how. Until being drained, Simeon had been the most powerful one of the bunch. With him out of the picture, it was down to Quinn and me.

I certainly didn’t have the Skill to punch through the defensive barrier of the cell. Attempting magic on it was stupid anyway, especially considering what the spell had done to the Quaos agent.

Unless Quinn was secretly a goddess in human form, we were screwed.

I searched the surrounding area and found nothing useful. There was a grated drain in the center of the cell, but it was barely large enough to fit both my fists. I peered into it and saw nothing except the blue haze of the barrier humming up at me like a high-tension power line.

I blinked as a thought occurred to me. The barrier to my cell had killed the agent on contact, cutting through his thick robes. That meant the spell didn’t need skin to react—any inanimate object would do.

“What in the world are you doing?” Quinn asked as I untied my boots and kicked them off.

“Experimenting.” I removed my belt and unbuttoned my pants.

“It involves stripping?”

“Yes.”

It may have been the shadows, but I thought I saw a smile. Hopefully it was because she was impressed with my
Star Wars
boxer-briefs.

I tied the end of the belt to the cuff of my cargo pants, shoved my feet back into the boots, and measured the distance between the drain and the cell bars. My makeshift conductor was too short, so I removed my long-sleeved shirt and tied one end to the free pant leg. I measured again—the contraption was long enough.

“Testing time,” I said.

I held the belt over the grate, then dropped it into the drain. It fell six inches before striking the barrier. There was a thunk followed by a loud hum as blue light raced up the belt. I cautiously kicked the other end of the clothing-rope with my boot and immediately yanked my foot back. There was a faint psychic zap—similar to a mild electric shock—but it was not enough be damaging. Hoping against hope, I gritted my teeth and kicked the pant leg as hard as I could toward the bars.

My mind was zapped again as the pant leg flopped onto the cell barrier with a shower of sparks. The blue field in front of my bars vibrated and the color intensified to the point where it hurt my eyes. The hum grew to a roar, and the energy pulsating from the barrier beat against my chest as hard as it did against my Skill.

I crawled into the back corner of cell and shaped the air in front of me into a wedge. As the power of the cell door spiked, I pressed the wedge forward, leaning against it with my Skill, and covered my head. There was thunderous boom and a shockwave rammed into my wedge with titanic force. It pushed me against the stone wall, but I continued to press against the maelstrom with all my might. For a moment the entire cell bowed outward, and I thought the blast would crush me, but finally something gave and the air rushed out of my cell like a hurricane. I waited until the wind died down before moving.

The barrier was gone.

I felt the bars with my Skill just to be safe and found nothing. I reached tentatively for the cold metal, and the door creaked open. I scooped my clothes up and eased into the prison hallway.

“How’d you do that?” Quinn asked in awe.

“Science, baby,” I said with a huge grin.

She gave me a quizzical look.

“The barrier is like a huge electrical field, right? Well since all magic is bound by physics, it stood to reason that creating a surge would overload the circuits. By connecting the barrier to itself, I created a power loop. The feedback was enough to cause the field to go boom and it shut down.”

“What about the psychic blowback? How did you survive it?”

“I created a wedge of air that directed the blast around me.”

“That’s...brilliant.”

I frowned in mock disappointment. “You sound surprised,”

“Maybe a little,” she replied playfully. “So, how do you plan to get us out?”

“Same way. Move to the back of your cell and form the wedge. Think of it like a huge slice of pie, but one made of concrete.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“It’s the best I could come up with under the circumstances,” I said. “Cut me some slack, okay?”

She swallowed and moved to the back of the cell. I felt her manipulate the air, but the wedge solidified with the strength of titanium instead of concrete. I was both impressed and, as much as I hated to admit it, kinda turned on.

With her wedge in place, Quinn gave me a nod. I shook the distraction of her powers from my mind and used the clothes-rope to connect her cell to the one across from it. As the barriers began to vibrate, footsteps pounded on the other side of the exit door.

“Company!” I said over the violent humming. I left my contraption to do its work and raced toward the new sound.

The door opened, and I dropped into a slide as a Quaos agent snapped a spell in my direction. It sailed over my head and into an empty, barrier-less cell. The magic blew the bars to pieces, melting and twisting them like warm taffy.

I skidded across the floor like I was stealing home plate and crashed into the knees of the agent. There was a crack of bone and the man collapsed on top of me with a wail. I gave him a swift kick to “the boys” and he doubled over with a gag.

I rolled him off of me and stood in time to greet a second agent.

I came up into him hard, catching him around the waist, and using his inertia to heave him down the hall. He was airborne for five yards before landing poorly on his shoulder with a sickening pop. He traveled a few more feet before screeching to a halt.

He rose slowly to his feet and began forming a spell, but there was a gigantic flash and shockwaves slammed into him from either side. He screamed, but it was lost in the clamor of rushing wind. When the dust settled, he was facedown and motionless.

Quinn eased out of her cell. “Wow.”

“Couldn’t do that again if I tried,” I said.

She scooped up my clothes. “I’ll free Daddy,”

“I can’t manipulate the air to protect myself,” Simeon said from his cell. “And the barrier prevents either of you from doing it for me. Just go. Now.”

Tears leaked down Quinn’s cheeks. “No.”

“The lady’s right, Simeon,” I said. “Today’s not your day to be a martyr.”

I trotted back to the surviving agent. He was curled in the fetal position with his hands between his knees and laughing.

“Hey, bucko, time to be useful.” I yanked him to his feet and dragged him to Simeon’s cell. “Drop the barrier or I toss you into it.”

“Go ahead. The pain will be glorious.”

I glanced at Quinn who shrugged.

“You like chaos, right?” I asked.

“It is the key to unity and order,” he replied automatically.

“Wonderful. Want to see some impressive pandemonium and madness? Try letting my friends out of their cells and we’ll bring a firestorm of crazy down upon you and your friends. Trust me, I’m so pissed right now that I alone could level this damn place if you don’t.”

For the first time, something close to rationality appeared in the man’s eyes. He beamed.

“The destruction would be inspiring.”

He spoke the words. The barrier to Simeon’s cell vanished instantly. The Necromancer exited his cell, scraped dried blood from his hair, and glared at the agent. The insane man waved enthusiastically.

“The others too?” he asked.

“You’re a freakin’ mind reader,” I growled.

I lugged him down the hall, and he lowered the barrier for the Elf. She was shivering and muttering something about being abandoned. Simeon and Quinn entered and helped her to her feet.

In all, seven of the ten cells had been occupied by myself, Quinn, Simeon, the lady Elf who called herself Elyanna, and two grubby male humans reeking of unfocused Skill.

Most surprising of all was Jethrow Wright. He was curled on the floor of a cell near the back of the hallway. His wound was sealed, but was an angry red and his face a ghostly white. His breaths were shallow and labored.

“Oh hell,” I muttered as my heart thundered with fear. “Lower it!” I snapped at the agent. He obliged, and Quinn rushed in and began administering aid.

“Will you really destroy the building?” the agent asked hopefully.

“Sorry, I lied.” Then I punched him palm up like LaDell had instructed me. The brokenhearted agent slumped to the floor.

“How is he?” I asked Quinn, struggling to keep my tone calm.

“In pain,” Jethrow groaned.

“Someone tried to heal him, but they were sloppy,” Quinn said, her voice tight with concern. “I’ve done what I can, but my healing skills are limited. The wound is barely holding together and is very infected. He needs professional help immediately.”

I turned to Simeon. “Are you strong enough to help carry the injured?”

The Necromancer’s wrapped hands shook, but he nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”

There was a boom that shook the entire building. Dust fell from the ceiling and shouts echoed through the door.

“Great,” I said as Quinn helped Jethrow to his feet, “because we need to get rolling. I’m betting more idiots are on the way. I’ll slow them down while you guys catch up.”

Quinn started to protest, but I was already sprinting toward the exit. I charged through the door and up the stairs, and was rounding the corner on the landing when I plowed into the first agent. I caught him in the gut, knocking the air out of him with a “hoof.” He dropped to his knees as another agent aimed at me.

I yanked the first guy to his feet as the spell let loose. A jet of green light arced down the stairs, striking my human shield instead. The agent’s eyes went wide in pain, and I was assaulted by the smell of burnt skin and cotton.

I tapped into my Skill to haul my captive off his feet, then pounded up the stairs and careened into the three agents on the upper landing. The force of the impact knocked everyone but me to the ground, and I swiftly dealt kicks to faces and hands. By the time I finished, there were several broken wrists and at least one busted jaw.

The agent in my hands stared wide-eyed at me. He was still on fire, so I stopped, dropped, and rolled him down the stairs. He crashed into the wall at the middle landing with a thud.

I turned to tell Quinn that the way was clear when the door burst open again. The blow knocked me off balance and I staggered backward. I almost fell down the stairs, but a strong hand grabbed my T-shirt and yanked me back to safety. I blinked at the beast before me.

I smiled. “Wow. Great timing.”

“Why are you naked?” Steve asked.

I looked down at my shirt and boxer briefs. “
Star Wars
is fashionable. Why are you wearing a fanny pack?”

The Minotaur adjusted the bright pink sack around his waist and smirked. “It’s also fashionable. Here,” he added, handing me my sword and holster. “Found these on a table.”

I accepted the items, comforted by their familiar weight in my hands. “Thanks.”

“Marcus?” Quinn asked from the bottom of the stairs.

“We’re good,” I said, bouncing down the steps with Steve on my heels. The woman let out a small cry of alarm when she saw the Minotaur, but I quickly explained that he was on our side.

I took my clothes from around Quinn’s neck. “Speaking of which, what in the world are you doing here?”

Steve scanned my small party. “Rescuing you.”

“No kidding. I mean, how did you know where we were?”

“The freak saw it.”

“What?”

“The Oracle had a vision of the apocalypse or something, and was able to piece together where you were by reverse engineering the time line.”

Jones popped his head around the Minotaur. I could smell him even from several feet away, but his eyes were more white than red.

His eyebrows ticked up. “Nice boxers.”

“You act surprised,” Steve muttered.

“I told you I can’t always see every detail.”

Steve grunted. “Some Oracle.”

“How about
you
try piecing the future together.”

“I would if it meant I could avoid this,” the Minotaur snapped, waving his hand toward me.

I pulled on my pants. “Hey! Instead of bickering, how about someone tell us how to get out of here?”

Steve folded his arms.

“Shouldn’t be that hard,” Jones said. “We were outside trying to figure how to get in when everyone simply took off. Only a handful of guards stayed behind. We avoided the majority of them, but ran into trouble just before we found you. If we backtrack, we should be able to—”