The stone lid of the sarcophagus floated in the air as it slid aside, as though held up by invisible hands. A feeling of dread washed over Sarah. Her entire body became covered in goosebumps, and she felt compelled to flee but found that she could not move a muscle.
Once the lid had slid aside completely, a body rose out of the sarcophagus. Her face was as pale as snow which contrasted starkly with her hair. It was long, falling to her waist and as black as night. She seemed to float out of the sarcophagus with an eerily fluid grace that Sarah’s brain screamed couldn’t be natural.
Her face wore a sinister smile as she looked at the four newcomers with her black, seemingly bottomless, red-rimmed eyes as a starving man would eye a freshly roasted haunch of meat.
“I am Viorica Noapte, First Daughter of the Night,” her voice was haughty and as smooth as silk and Sarah wasn’t sure if the words had been spoken or telepathically placed in her head.
Viorica smiled, showing off her flawless white teeth and long canines. “What have you brought for me?”
“Four newcomers to the city who are interested in our faith, Mistress,” Gorwyn simpered, his voice honeyed, “one of them is an eternal one.”
The vampire’s eyes locked onto Udoriol. “Yes… yes, I see that.”
Her lips curled into a spine-chilling smile, “a strange one. One who still holds Treto dear in his heart.”
Gorwyn’s smile vanished. “He is? But…”
“Silence!” the admonishment reverberated in Sarah’s mind and the priest fell into a blubbering heap.
There was an exotic beauty to this woman. Her body hugging black dress showed her curves off. However, she radiated a malevolence that felt so oppressive that Sarah had trouble drawing breath. The malevolence permeated her and her mind. It felt as though it was probing her memories. Sarah felt a surge of power and the malevolent presence withdrew abruptly.
Viorica set her piercing eyes on Sarah. “Agni’s Chosen.”
“So, devoted servant of Treto,” she continued, without taking her eyes off Sarah, “are you here in the capacity of the Church, or…”
Sarah felt something probe her mind as Viorica held her gaze. She found her black as night eyes deeply unsettling but could not avert her gaze.
“Something else?”
“We will be the ones asking the questions,” Udoriol declared. He muttered a short prayer as he drew his sword and moments later, a shimmering white light engulfed his blade.
“Draw your weapons!” Udoriol cried, raising his blazing sword high in the air, “and prepare to fight for your lives!”
The elf’s voice and the warm light emanating from his sword snapped Sarah and the others out of their trancelike states. John and Grimald readied their weapons which began to shimmer with radiant energy.
Udoriol struck first. He raised his hand towards the woman, and a bolt of shimmering white energy lanced out. Viorica hissed as the bolt struck her in the chest. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard and reverberated throughout the room. When she turned to face him again, her face had contorted into a ghastly mask of hatred.
Pressing his advantage, Udoriol leapt forward and swung his blazing sword at the creature. She dodged it easily and seemingly instantly closed the gap between her and Grimald. She swung her taloned hand at him, which he attempted to meet with his axe. The force of her blow caught him off guard and launched him into a nearby wall.
“Fire blast!” Sarah cried.
The bolt of blue fire fizzed through the air, passing through Viorica as the vampire turned to mist, before exploding against a wall. She was upon Sarah in a flash, seizing her by the throat.
She looked at Sarah with her deep, black eyes. Sarah felt the presence taking over as her panic rose but managed to brush it aside and remain in control.
“What are you doing you fool!” the voice boomed inside her head, “surrender yourself to me or you will all die!”
Viorica tossed her aside and smirked. “I suppose I should tread carefully with you.”
Her face contorted with pain moments later as John buried his short sword in her back. She brushed him off easily, sending the young man skittering across the floor. Udoriol launched himself at his foe, swinging his sword frantically, but his opponent was nimble, dodging the elf’s blows with ease.
“Get back vile creature,” Udoriol cried as he continued swinging. His face had turned red from the exertion and sweat stung his face, but he did not relent, continuing to rain blows down on his elusive foe who dodged with such ease that it was clear to Sarah that she was merely toying with her prey.
Then, suddenly, Udoriol’s blows ceased, and Sarah feared the worse. At last, the elf’s strength had run out. He had fought valiantly, but perhaps he had been outmatched by his foe. Sarah racked her brain. What spell could she use? Fire would not affect the vampire when she turned into mist but somehow, the others’ weapons could. Was it because they had been blessed by Udoriol?
She watched helplessly as the vampire and the elf stared one another down. To her surprise, the vampire lowered her hands and smirked. “Well played,” she said.
It was then that Sarah noticed the shimmering circle on the ground where Viorica was standing.
“Go see to the others,” Udoriol panted as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
Sarah rushed off to check on John who had already picked himself up. “Are you alright?” she breathed.
John nodded and rubbed his head. “I’m a little sore but otherwise fine.”
They then rushed to check on Grimald who was struggling to get to his feet. The wall was cracked where he had struck it and blood dribbled from his mouth.
“How do you feel?” Sarah gasped.
“I’ll live,” the dwarf choked, “I have a few cracked ribs, but it’s nothing our elven friend can’t fix.”
Together, Sarah and John helped the dwarf over to where Udoriol was holding the vampire. In the corner of her eye, Sarah spotted Gorwyn who was still gibbering to himself as he lay curled on the ground and was surprised that she had forgotten completely about him.
“What should we do with him?” she asked as a chill went down her spine. He was holding one of those strange gems and could have influenced the fight considerably if he had the mind to.
“His mind is broken,” Udoriol replied without taking his eyes off Viorica, “which is fortunate for us.”
John approached him carefully with his short sword in hand and kicked him savagely, laying the priest out onto his back. If he felt it, the priest gave no indication as he continued babbling incoherently. John took a moment to compose himself before quickly reaching into Gorwyn’s pocket and taking the crystal.
Once Udoriol saw the deed was done, he turned his attention to Viorica. “I’m afraid healing you is going to have to wait, Grimald. It’s taking all of my power to contain this one.”
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“It’s fine,” Grimald winced, “I can manage for now.”
Udoriol muttered a brief incantation and the circle around Viorica shimmered brighter for a moment. Viorica flinched briefly. “Ooh, torture.”
She paused to lick her lips. “How… racy…”
“Now, foul creature of the night, you will answer my questions,” Udoriol commanded, “what is your purpose here?”
She lidded her eyes demurely. “I am a vampire you know. Surely you are familiar with my kind.”
“These are no vampiric thralls, and you are setting up no coven here!” Udoriol roared. The circle shimmered and Viorica hissed in pain.
“I am no fool, speak!” Udoriol cried, “by the power of Treto I compel you to reveal your nefarious plans!”
The circle shimmered brighter still and Udoriol’s voice was like a crack of thunder. “WHO DO YOU SERVE?”
“The Night Goddess!’ she screeched. The sound of her voice was almost unbearable, and the room seemed to quiver at the malice behind it.
“What are you plotting?” Udoriol demanded, “speak!”
“She will rise to the Divine and leave your beloved Treto in the dust where He belongs!” Viorica spat.
“Answer clearly, wretched creature!” Udoriol cried, “what are you and your fellows plotting?”
“I have already told you!” she wailed, “we seek to elevate the Night Goddess to the Pantheon where she belongs!”
“How?” Udoriol demanded. The circle shimmered again, and the creature writhed with pain, “the details damn you!”
“I don’t know!” she screamed back, “I was not told. All I know is that the others are carrying out their plots in the city!”
“Is that all you know?” Udoriol asked, panting from the exertion.
The creature mouthed words, but no sound came out.
“Speak!” Udoriol roared, “your lies are of no use in there!”
“The soul gems!” she cried, “they will use them to revive Her Chosen!”
John held the small crystal he had taken from Gorwyn up. “This?”
“Answer him!” Udoriol roared as the creature fell silent. The circle shimmered again, and Viorica screamed. It was an ear-splitting screech that assaulted their ears. Bricks on the ceiling came loose and fell around them.
“Yes, yes! I do not know how, but that is how they intend to bring Her Chosen into being,” she wailed.
Udoriol’s shoulders slumped as he struggled to keep his breath.
“Perhaps you should take a break,” Grimald suggested worriedly.
The elf paused to swallow and shook his head. “She will break out the instant I lower my guard.”
Viorica smirked, suddenly composed, A chill ran down Sarah’s spine and moments later, a brick that had fallen from the ceiling earlier launched itself at Udoriol. The elf dodged it in time, but the lapse in concentration was enough for the vampire to shatter the circle around her. Before anyone could react, she turned into mist and vanished before their eyes.
“Did anyone see where she went?” John demanded as he drew his short sword.
“She’s gone,” Udoriol panted as he sank to his knees, utterly drained, “my imprisonment weakened her. Unfortunately, I lacked the strength to destroy her.”
“We should get going,” Grimald warned, “she could be fetching more of those fanatics upstairs as we speak.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to heal you later,” Udoriol said as Sarah helped him to his feet, “I’m spent.”
“That’s fine,” Grimald said through gritted teeth, “let’s get going.”
“Where?” John asked as he helped the dwarf up.
“We follow the sewers up to the city,” Grimald replied.
They soon emerged back into the sewer with Sarah and John helping the stricken dwarf walk while Udoriol had to lean against the wall for support as he shuffled along. They brought along Gorwyn’s lantern which scarcely lit the ground beneath it.
Sarah felt refreshed despite the stench. The vampire’s mere presence had felt oppressive, and now that they were freed from it, she felt as though she could endure anything.
“She spared me because she feared what I would become,” Sarah said softly as they followed the sewer upstream. Their pace was painfully slow, and they knew that any minute now, fanatics would be hot on their tails. Sarah swallowed. If it came to it, she knew she might have to collapse these sewers on their pursuers’ heads, but in doing that, she could bury them all.
“They are many things, vampires,” Udoriol managed, “but they aren’t fools. No one would be eager to come up against an avatar of the Pantheon.”
“But my fire couldn’t hurt her,” Sarah said, “what would she have to fear?”
“Perhaps she’s not as impervious to your powers as you think, lassie,” Grimald grunted.
Sarah bit her lip and ran through the fight again in her mind. Viorica had turned to mist to evade her spell. What could she do about that? She knew she had to find an answer for they were sure to cross paths again.
“Grimald, I think we’re being sorely underpaid,” John panted as they dragged the dwarf along the passageway.
“I’m inclined to agree,” he replied through gritted teeth, “I’ll have to have a word with Roldo when we get back.”
“It seems that the vampire was also a pawn in all this,” Udoriol gasped, “those at the top may command more powerful minions than she.”
“Then we’re definitely being underpaid,” John observed.
“If we ever get back to the surface,” Udoriol said, “you must get word of what happened to the Church. They must act at once!”
“You make it sound like you don’t intend to make it out,” Sarah pointed out with concern.
“I might not,” Udoriol said. His face was deathly pale now. Almost as pale as the Night Goddess’ priests, “we are being pursued.”
It was then that Sarah became aware of voices further down the tunnel. They were growing closer at an alarming rate.
With great effort, Udoriol pushed himself away from the wall and stood in the middle of the passageway with his sword and shield drawn.
“I will hold them off.”
“You’d hold them up for all of two seconds,” John scoffed, “a stiff breeze would knock you down in the state you’re in.”
“At the very least I won’t slow you down,” Udoriol pointed out.
“If anyone’s slowing us down it’s me,” Grimald winced.
“He has a point,” John remarked dryly.
“You could leave me here,” Grimald offered, “after what we saw back there, I’m convinced that getting the word out is of the utmost importance. You can inform Roldo after you’ve told the Church.”
John and Sarah exchanged looks.
“No,” John declared, “we’re all getting out together.”
“Quite right,” Sarah agreed, “besides, we’re almost in the city.”
“How can you tell?” John asked.
Sarah pointed at the roof where light filtered down through holes from overhead. “Grates for stormwater.”
“Hush!” Udoriol hissed.
Sarah turned around to see the elf peering into the darkness. “They’re here,” he breathed.
“Stand aside!” Sarah cried. She pointed down the tunnel and whispered, “fireball.”
The ball of blue fire flew down the sewer, illuminating its surroundings in blue light as it went, revealing pale men with long spindly limbs crawling towards them along the walls and ceiling like macabre insects with alarming speed. They hissed as the light from the fireball revealed their presence. Screams rang out in the distance when it detonated a distance behind them.
“What are they?” John screamed.
Grimald gritted his teeth from the pain as they picked up the pace.
Sarah closed her eyes to mutter a brief prayer. Power surged through her, and she raised both arms before crying, “fire wall!”
A blue wall of fire materialised, spanning the tunnel, the flames hissed and sputtered in the section that crossed the fetid sewage.
“They looked like the priests,” she breathed as she grabbed hold of the dwarf’s other arm.
“How long will that wall last?” Udoriol asked.
“Two minutes if we’re lucky,” Sarah replied through gritted teeth as she and John struggled to get the dwarf moving quickly, “it would last longer if I didn’t have to maintain it over water.”
“It’s better than nothing,” Udoriol remarked grimly.
Inhuman screeches came from behind them. She looked over her shoulder and was amazed to see that their pursuers had crossed the wall of fire and been set ablaze. They tumbled into the sewage, to extinguish the flames, but none resurfaced alive.
“The wall is fading,” Sarah gasped. Their pursuers had sapped its strength to the point where it could no longer be maintained over water.
As they hurried on, they came across a steel fence. A hole had been cut into it, probably by the priests. Just beyond the fence was a stone staircase that led to a steel door. The door swung open and a man wearing a green cloak over a chainmail shirt appeared. He lifted a torch in the air and peered into the gloom.
“What in Treto’s name is going on down here?” he demanded.
“Is this the sewer guard post?” Udoriol gasped as he struggled to catch up.
“Who’s there?” the guard asked. The nervousness in his voice told them that he hadn’t actually expected a reply.
“Help us!” Sarah cried, “we’re under attack by the followers of Ratri!”
She saw the guard’s eyes widen and turned around to see a pair of priests burst out of the gloom, skittering about on all fours. One lunged for Udoriol and knocked him over.
“We’re under attack!” the guard shouted as he ran down the stairs, spear in hand.
“There will be a lever inside that will collapse the sewer in case of attack,” Udoriol cried as John dropped Grimald and attempted to come to his aid, “go up there and pull it!”
“Oi, only the captain can decide that!” the guard protested as John changed direction and charged up the stairs.
“Fire blast!” Sarah cried.
The creature on top of Udoriol let off an ear-piercing, inhuman shriek as it burst into flames. The elf summoned the last of his strength to kick it off and roll away. Down the sewer, more of the priests were coming. Hot on their heels were orcs running upright and armed with scimitars. Moments later, they felt a loud rumbling reverberate through the tunnel. Moments later, the ceiling of the sewer came crashing down.
“Burning hands!” Sarah cried. Blue flame scoured the survivors of the cave in. Then there were no insect-like priests or orcs. Only a wall of rubble.
The guard looked wide-eyed from Sarah to Grimald and then to Udoriol. “Ooh, you’ve done it now,” he said before crumpling to the ground.
John appeared behind him and nudged the fallen guard with his foot. “Let’s get moving,” he panted as he looked at the blocked off sewer with satisfaction, “he was alone up there but it won’t take long for his friends to come running. I suggest we are not here when we arrive.”
Grimald managed a weak smile. “I couldn’t agree more, laddie.”