15

Desecration

Licephus carried the mouseling by the scruff of the neck to a back chamber with several empty cells. The area smelled musty and appeared unused.

He tossed her to the ground and pulled the witch's doll from his belt.

"Do you know what this is?"

Patches shook her head.

"This is a totem." Licephus tossed the doll at her feet. "A witch's totem used for occult magic. Hexes."

The mouseling reached for the doll gingerly.

"Far be it for me to condemn you for taking an interest in the occult, but I can't allow you to imperil the entire colony with your ignorance." The vampire sat on the floor, making no move to stop Patches from retrieving the doll. She caressed the figure's head and scratched a bit of dried blood with her nail.

"This totem is an effigy of a ratling. Someone to whom a witch intended harm. Do you want to learn how to make one?"

Patches looked up at the vampire surprised and nodded.

"I must hear you say yes or no. It will determine how we proceed."

Patches scratched behind her ear. "Yes," she whispered softly.

The vampire smiled coldly. "This totem represents four pieces of identity. All four components are required for the hex to take proper hold of its victim. Lacking one or more components simply makes the spell weaker, and is not itself dangerous."

Licephus extended his hand. "Give me the doll."

Patches hesitated only slightly then passed the totem back to the vampire.

"The four components are the flesh, the blood, the name, and the form of the victim. Repeat that."

Patches swallowed hard. "Flesh, blood, form..."

"And name." Licephus removed the ratling tooth from inside the fur. "Flesh refers to any part of the body. This ratling, who is undoubtedly dead, was unfortunate enough to lose a tooth. Anything belonging to the intended target will work. Hair, a piece of clothing, a childhood possession. But the more vital, the more powerful."

Licephus indicated the dried blood. "This came from the victim. The fur may not even belong to the victim, but symbolizes his likeness. Lastly, if the hexer knew the victim's name, it would be used during the casting of the spell. There is power in a name. Then, any harm that comes to the totem affects the being it is tied to. If the components are weak, it may do little harm. But these are good components, which is why I say that the ratling is dead." Licephus removed a bone needle from the doll to accentuate his point.

"But none of this will do you any good, because you do not possess any magical abilities," the vampire hissed. "You will remain here for three days. Use that time to reflect on what you are willing to sacrifice for power. When I return, I expect an earnest answer. Your response will determine whether I teach you, or bar you wholly from this sphere of study."

With that, the vampire stood, and with a flourish of his cape departed the chamber, closing and locking the door behind him.

*****

"You know, I was thinking... I think I know why I lost that fight."

"Against Jade?" Jeshu asked.

"Yeah. It's because she knew how to kick. It was basically six weapons against four, so I was outclassed from the beginning."

"Seven," Jeshu corrected. "She spit too. Maybe you should do that more."

"Nah, I'm too classy," Cricket stated, pulling at one of his feelers.

"Actually," the druid added, "I think it's because she is an amazingly well-trained assassin."

"Maybe," Cricket conceded. "I hope it works out."

"Hope what works out?" The dryad asked.

"Between us."

"Are you serious? She tried to cut off your head."

Cricket shrugged. "In the heat of the moment. All couples have their fights."

"And she ripped off your arm," Jeshu continued.

"Simple lovers' spat. Kind of typical among insects. You don't win someone's heart without risking a limb or two."

"We're almost there," Jeshu stated.

An enormous black temple loomed a few blocks ahead. Cricket was seldom permitted this far into the city, and yet at this hour the streets were nearly bare. Here and there, dhampiri guards rode on their lazy raptor mounts. At a distant vantage point, he even saw one of the Drake Guard, the king's personal escort. The elite dhampir soldier sat atop a cave drake, surveying the quiet streets, deterring would-be criminals with its mere presence.

Though purportedly relatives of dragonkind, the drakes more closely resembled giant, frilled geckos, save for the thick brown scales that covered most of their pale skin, and their rows of razor-sharp teeth. Still, Cricket thought, they were nothing but overblown geckos, bred for their ability to cling to the cave walls, and their distaste for dhampir flesh. Cave drakes did, however, love to eat insects, and the beast's proximity unnerved him.

With Oydd's recommendation, the Warrens formed three task forces, one to guard each of three temples that they suspected might be targeted. The first consisted of Cricket, Jeshu, Ty'lek and several ratlings. The second consisted only of Oydd, Licephus and Aka'su—another azaeri archer. Agena led the third group along with Scorpion, a handful of lizardmen, and an ettin of the vampire's choosing.

Oydd sent Scab with Cricket's group and Wax with Agena. Due to the simple nature of the zombies, the rudra was able to control them over a much longer distance and could monitor each group, seeing through their eyes.

Cricket grumbled. Scab's lethargic pace slowed his entire party.

As they approached their temple, Cricket pulled the Betrayer's mask from his stuffed pouch. The mask was carved or formed from a white clay, with a smear of blood-red paint over one half.

Jeshu groaned, "Why are you keeping that?"

"It might come in handy."

"Only if you intend to turn on your friends."

"Like the Right Hand cultists?"

Jeshu shook his head. "It doesn't work like that. I discussed it in detail with Oydd. They turned on you. If you want some god's favor to fight against them, you would need to turn to the god of revenge, not betrayal. What was her name?"

"Vidine," Cricket answered. However, sensing Jeshu's apprehension, he fell several steps behind the druid before holding the mask against his face to test its fit. And it did fit quite well, except for the flat hollow for a dhampir nose. Cricket wondered if the mask made it look like he had a nose, and almost asked the druid, but thought better of it. He returned the mask to his side pouch.

Despite the soaring spires of the temple, the foundation lay several stories below street level. Cricket's party descended beneath the slate-cobbled streets, the cold barbed rails, and the black marble buildings of Al Tsirith.

Cricket felt more at home in the bland undercity tunnels anyway.

Jeshu halted the group and waited for Cricket to catch up. "What's this?"

Cricket eyed the massive gate, adorned on each side by intricate silver filigree and topped with the emerald carving of an arachane, resembling Damien, but slender and whole.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Tyna," Cricket answered. "A symbol of protection."

"But this is Serinyes' temple? Why depict another goddess?"

"I don't think she's a goddess," Cricket answered. "Tyna is more of a warning to looters. She was a dhampir cursed by Serinyes to be half-spider. I don't think that story's real though. "

"Yes," Jeshu agreed. "In dhampir mythology, every other race is expressly inferior."

Cricket went over the little bits of dhampir mythology he was familiar with, checking the claim. "But there are likely spiders here to watch over the dead," Cricket added. "Probably harmless."

"This lock has been broken." Jeshu pushed on the wiry, weblike bars and it opened inward. "We'll send Scab first," the druid suggested.

"No! That will take forever... I'll go ahead if you want a scout."

Ty'lek slipped through the opening while Cricket argued, and the druid reluctantly followed.

Cricket's turtle charm began to glow warmly, but the insect waved frantically at Jeshu to stop. The insect covered the faint light with one of his hands until it dimmed and sprinted forward on the tips of his toes.

Dusty web covered the walls, several inches thick and crawling with thousands of tiny spiders. Cricket kept to the center of the tunnel.

Near the ceiling, he noticed a bulging, sickly grey sac that expanded then retracted as if breathing. He saw a second smaller one on the floor and then a cluster several yards ahead. Veins stretched over the surface of the sacs, and thick, weblike strands spread from each bulge attaching it to the stone.

One dripped from the ceiling as Cricket passed, only to stop inches from the ground where it bounced and swung from its webbing.

Cricket risked a backward glance and saw Jeshu and the ratlings picking around the egglike sacs with disgust.

Cricket mouthed "What is this?" silently, but the dryad simply shook his head, bewildered. The insect noticed a large patch of webbing missing—freshly torn from the wall, based on the dust-free rock and lack of spiders—but he saw no sign of the removed web.

Ahead, Ty'lek crouched behind a dhampir sarcophagus and waved the insect over. Silently the azaeri gestured toward an adjacent hallway and held a finger to his beak.

Cricket watched the hallway, where a soft, red, magical glow emanated from an unseen chamber. By its faint light he saw the shadow of a hulking, disfigured humanoid that lumbered away—one heavy, awkward step at a time.

When the shadow disappeared from view, Ty'lek dropped the finger from his beak and moved quietly to a better vantage point. Cricket followed.

When he could see down the hallway, he viewed the source of the shadow. At first he thought it some sort of undead monstrosity, but it felt different. The humanoid stood about a foot taller than the insect, its shoulders at a sharp angle, as if one arm was too heavy to lift—its knuckles dragging along the floor as well as its stubby, ill-formed tail. After a moment, Cricket noticed the second arm had been removed entirely. The hulk's grey, translucent skin seemed to nearly melt from the bones like wax.

As Cricket watched, the creature's belly convulsed and it began to regurgitate a large grey, pulsating sac that it spit onto the wall, where it slowly dripped before latching into place.

Then the hulk stooped and grabbed a handful of dusty webbing, thick with squirming spiders and began to gorge voraciously.

Cricket nearly vomited. He felt acid burning in the back of his throat but swallowed it back down.

He saw the source of the red glow. An enchanted gem in the middle of a chamber full of stone boxes, less ornate than the sarcophagus. The dhampiri did not need a source of light, which meant the enchantment was likely ceremonial or religious in nature.

Ty'lek mimed in the air as if shooting, looking to Cricket for permission, but the insect shook his head. They watched for a full minute as the creature feasted on the cobwebs and tiny black spiders crawled out of its mouth along its face.

Two ratlings arrived at Cricket's side, and the abomination turned at the faint sound. Cricket ducked out of sight and glared at the ratlings. The smaller of the two tried to peer around the corner, but Cricket caught him by the collar and pulled him back until Jeshu arrived.

The insect drew his sickles then signaled with one of his lower hands, holding up three fingers, then two, then—

"Over here." A soft childlike voice came from the adjoining chamber.

Cricket poked his head out and saw a small child riding atop a grey spider with her legs tucked beneath her. The mount had no segments or eyes, as if formed roughly from clay. With her head turned mostly away, the insect only saw the girl's long, sandy hair and a bit of creamy skin—not pure white like the dhampiri. She almost appeared elven, but with rounded ears rather than pointed. She wore a simple gown of tan cloth.

The waxlike humanoid followed her, leaving a slimy trail of web behind it.

Cricket pulled one of the plain, iron shurikens from his pouch, but hesitated. The ratlings, however, charged, readying their spears.

Cricket sighed and darted past them, on a course to intercept the translucent grey hulk.

He felt the turtle around his neck grow warm again, and the child on the spider turned. A blood-soaked cloth covered her eyes, though she stared straight at Cricket. He froze.

An arrow sped from behind, aimed for the child, but it slowed in the air as it approached her, until it nearly came to a complete stop. The child grabbed the arrow from the air and held it delicately in her fingers.

Cricket threw a shuriken at the grey hulk, but it embedded harmlessly in the waxy skin, and the creature continued to lumber away as if it hadn't noticed.

A ratling stabbed at the hulk followed by his companion, and then the two dodged back as it swung its single arm toward them. A third ratling approached, and the three stabbed and withdrew in practiced timing, easily avoiding its attacks.

Cricket rushed in to support them as a second arrow flew through the air, embedding in the hulk's forehead.

One of the ratlings hesitated, thinking his opponent defeated and caught a mucousy backhand that sent him flying through the air. Strands of web stretched from its grey skin to the ratling as it crashed into the wall and slumped to the ground.

The child raised a hand, and the other two ratlings began to slow. Cricket simply felt heavy at first, before he realized he was caught in the spell. His sickle arced through the air with just enough force to dig a couple inches into the monster's soft skin. He yanked back and tore a gash in its shoulder, revealing blackened bone.

A third arrow whirred through the air, at full speed, and struck the tear, wedging into the socket. The hulk tried to raise its arm but the arrow jammed the bones and its arm fell back to the ground. The creature absently tried to reach for the arrow with its missing arm, then paused in confusion.

"Aberron," the child called its attention. She raised an arm and a spinning portal appeared. Cricket looked through the magical doorway, but saw only an empty, unremarkable stone room.

She waited for the creature called Aberron to join her. Cricket and one of the ratlings pressed to follow, but the closer they came to the girl, the more slowly they moved. An arrow passed Cricket's head at a crawl, then came to a complete stop in midair.

Suddenly the portal closed, and the arrow sped full speed through the empty chamber. Cricket realized the girl and the hulk had already departed and he had been chasing an afterimage. Perhaps his eyes had processed them too slowly. Regardless, they were long gone.

"How were we late?" Jeshu asked. "They've been here for days. The same thing happened in the catacombs."

"Days?" Cricket repeated dumbly.

"Yes. That thing has been eating webs and laying these... what? Eggs? Something is wrong with our intel."

Cricket walked over to one of the grey sacs and cut it open with a dagger. It splurted a black liquid and deflated slightly. The exterior was formed of a translucent, weblike membrane, that appeared identical to Aberron's flesh. Cricket poked around the inside then wiped the dagger clean on the outside of the sac.

"Partially formed bones. Maybe... a heart?" Cricket pointed at a black, pulsing organ with the tip of his knife.

"What, like it's reproducing? On what, the webs that it ate?"

"That makes them eggs, right?"

Jeshu started to disagree but simply furrowed his brow in thought.

"Scab, get over here," Cricket ordered.

The zombie, regardless of his request, had already started to amble over and hovered over the opened sac—its dry, glowing eyes darting left and right.

"Oydd, if you can hear me, we ran into two... um... what we assume are members of the Right Hand."

Jeshu added, "A girl, no more than a child, I believe to be from the surface, and a creature made of webs."

Jeshu walked around the chamber with the red glow, where the girl had vanished, then exited down another hallway.

Cricket helped the injured ratling to his feet. The thick, matted webs on the wall had softened his landing, but he still held his head in a daze.

Then Cricket followed the dryad into the back chamber, where he saw two more sarcophagi, opened to display the dead. However, the corpses had been defiled with viscous grey vomit, the skulls crushed, with deep runes recently etched into the mummified sternums.

"Don't touch them," Jeshu warned. "I don't know what curses the dhampiri may have placed on these two. They are likely royalty."

In the back of the chamber stood a shrine to Serinyes, carved from the finest ebony mushroomwood, now burned and rent from top to bottom so that the backboard split in two. Each likeness of Serinyes had been painstakingly scratched from the wood and stone.

Cricket directed the ratlings to destroy the grey, membranous sacs, and then the group assembled in the cold, uninviting tomb.

"What is in the rest of the temple?" Jeshu asked. "It must be ten stories high."

"Just more of their dead," Cricket replied. “They've been burying here for hundreds of years."

"And where are the clerics?"

"I'm not sure what you mean. Not here."

"I thought a temple would be a place of worship. An active religious site," Jeshu explained.

"Should we search the upper floors?" one of the ratlings asked.

"No," Jeshu answered.

The ratling looked to Cricket.

"Listen to the dryad, Bones. His orders are my orders."

The ratling nodded.

Jeshu continued, "I believe they finished whatever they came to do. Let's return and report to Oydd and Licephus. I don't know what to make of this."

Bones looked to Cricket again for confirmation and the insect sighed. "We're heading back. Flick," Cricket pointed at the smallest ratling, "get a sample of that grey stuff for Oydd."

"Who?"

"The rudra," Cricket clarified, and Flick ran down the hallway and began to scrape the gelatinous substance from the floor.