The Hallowed Forsaken: First Book of the Aradian Page 3

  “I deserve to be here,” she told herself. “I’ve worked harder than those other indolent goldbricks.”

  Unsuccessfully, Sariyah attempted to quell her frustration at her colleagues’ contempt for her. Her mind brimmed with memories and emotion. Quiet voices echoed inside, disrupting the steady rhythm of the brush – voices that would soon turn to cries of anguish and a harrowing silence to follow. A veteran of her affliction, Sariyah recognised the impending, overwhelming distress and unlocked her phone without hesitation. Beginning to sing along to Somethin’ Stupid, she suppressed the unwanted intrusion before it could take hold.

  As the song went into the second chorus, Sariyah twirled on the spot and began to use her brush as a microphone, eyes closed, just her and the music. This brought a welcome smile. She tittered to herself thinking how a smile a day could keep the doctor away… or was it an apple? Now she was hungry.

  She dressed briskly before heading downstairs to her cramped, darkened kitchen, still winsomely accompanying the artist playing out of the phone in her back pocket. The house she was renting while stationed in Atlanta possessed a reassuring inadequacy. She much preferred a home that was explicitly average for the area. Not opulent enough to entice a passer-by, but not so decrepit as to attract disdainful attention. While rifling through the cupboards hunting for a light breakfast, the music was interrupted as her phone rang sharply. Sariyah let out a sigh and answered the call.

  “I thought I had until 8:00am before I had to meet you?” she chimed before the caller had a chance to speak. A pause was followed by a man’s unimpressed response.

  “Yes, and now it’s 8:15am. Hurry up or we’re going to miss our opportunity.” He ended his reprove with a short chuckle.

  “Oh… OH! Dammit. Sorry, give me fifteen minutes.”

  “Formidable fighter, lousy timekeeper… fifteen minutes.”

  The caller hung up and Sariyah abandoned her search, grabbing a breakfast bar and making haste towards the front door.

  “Cursed daylight-saving,” she cavilled to herself snatching her light grey jacket from the bottom of the stair banister. Pulling it on awkwardly while exiting the house, she stepped onto the garden path with bare feet and headed towards her 1967 Ford Shelby Mustang on the driveway. Engine roaring into life, she pulled into the road and away from her semidetached suburban home.

  Fifteen minutes later she pulled into a layby on the very outskirts of the city and espied her partner, Coltish Hollow, apathetically leaning against his own car. He seemed to be gazing at a country lane, far in the distance. It was so far away she was only just able to make it out over a low meadow, dotted by trees. She gave him a light pat on the shoulder, having to reach up to do so.

  “So, what are we doing all the way out here? I thought we were assigned to search for the Cult of the Deorum within Atlanta?”

  He didn’t move his eyes from the object of his scrutiny, despite her arrival.

  “I’m aware of that,” he intoned, sweeping long brown hair out of his eyes. “There’s some kind of event or gathering in an old church outside the city. All the top hitters are there, even Vincent Lockwood.”

  “Jeez!” Sariyah let out a prolonged exhale. “Don’t think I was ready to hear that first thing in the morning. What kind of event?”

  “I don’t know, an evil wedding maybe. Do evil cultists get married in their churches?” Colt chuckled at his own remark.

  Sariyah laughed with him and steered the conversation back on track.

  “So, what are we waiting for here?”

  Colt gestured to the front seat of his car. Sariyah took the hint and retrieved a small pair of binoculars which she proceeded to use.

  “I did some reconnaissance about an hour ago,” he informed her. “Everyone we know should be, is present, including our own support. Everyone apart from Cecilia Lockwood that is. This is the only road to the church that I could make out. It would be nice to pick her off, maybe use her as leverage of some kind.”

  “Good idea,” Sariyah remarked, studying the road that ran alongside a treeline through the field glasses. It was relatively well maintained, apart from the occasional dip due to environmental corrosion and tyre wear. As she gazed through the slightly dirty but still effective lens, she felt jealous of her partner. Smug by-blow can see this perfectly without any assistance! Enhanced vision – the faculty of the perfect scout. She lowered her arms, blinked to readjust her focus and raised a query.

  “What do we do if she shows?”

  “Tunnel us over there, blow a tyre, and kidnap the poor lady of leisure,” he returned casually.

  Sariyah nodded a curt confirmation. She let out a sigh and began to encourage herself internally to inspire confidence in her abilities. Shortly, her actions would need to be expeditious and immediate if they were going to help Colt’s plan succeed. The ambience of the countryside grew mute in her ears…

  I can do this. I haven’t done it for a while, but it’s just like riding a bike… I hope.

  She became dimly aware of a shaking; a slight pain in her shoulder. Snapping back to reality, Sariyah’s eyes fluttered open and she could just discern the outline of a car emerging on the road, traversing her view with great speed. The shaking? Colt was responsible.

  “Pierce, now! Tunnel us!” he commanded, his voice saturated with urgency.

  Sariyah vaulted into action.

  She knelt on the ground, palms and soles flat to the earth. Magic flowed through her, as it does all things. Simply being aware of this fact, Sariyah could sense and detect that very magic within her, nestled in her stomach. She grasped onto the feeling, harnessed its incredible power, and channelled it into the earth via her limbs. A rumbling grew deep below the surface, which began to crack and split, forming a tight shaft that Sariyah began to sink into, Colt clinging onto her.

  The two continued to sink until the ground had almost entirely swallowed them and a void of darkness consumed them. Sariyah shifted position, the magic flowing through her like a boiling liquid, and pushed forward. Her velocity increased, rock and earth parted in her wake, then reformed behind her. The sheer volume of the clangour was overwhelming. Her ears rang, but the blissful pandemonium actually quieted her mind, giving her focus and purpose.

  Whenever she made use of it, magic was one of the true joys of her life, and reaching out with magical energy, she felt a different surface ahead – the familiar grit of tarmac. Reacting accordingly, she pitched her angle and began to rise out of the earth, upward, until an explosive burst of sunlight temporarily blinded her. In an instant, the deafening thunder of the earth was cut off as it re-sealed itself, leaving Sariyah kneeling beside the road without a mark of defacement other than a single bead of sweat on her forehead. Colt, however, staggered backwards beside her, his clothes wreathed in layers of earth and splintered stone.

  Sariyah shrugged off the residual shock of her first successful tunnelling after prolonged inaction and scurried forward, glimpsing the vehicle steadily disappearing into the distance. Without losing focus, she took a purposeful step forward and planted herself in a balanced, grounded position.

  With a careful celerity she drew her right arm in and splayed her fingers, fixing her mind on the gentle breeze that flowed through them. She concentrated on how the particles of air that rested against her fingertips were just one small part of a greater series, interlinked by magic. What happened to one would have a knock-on-effect on the rest in the series. Equipped with this training she harnessed her magic once more and funnelled it out through her fingertips. As she did so, she focused on the heat released by the energy transfer and, repeating the process, fired a blindingly fast column of air.

  It caught the fleeing vehicle within seconds and Sariyah felt the heat of the impact-induced explosion of the rear tyre from where she stood. Far ahead the car began to coast into the side of the road and Sariyah darted into the treeline to avoid detection. Colt mimicked her movements.

  Traversing the roadside in as clandest
ine a manner possible, the two approached the car, a Mercedes S-class. Fancy, thought Sariyah, but not like my baby blue. Colt made a silent gesture towards the vehicle. The driver was already inspecting the burst tyre. He had a sickeningly pale complexion and an unnatural disposition and grace to his movements. Sariyah recognised it all too well. Vampire.

  She kept low as she watched with abject loathing, her fingers gripping the dirt where she crouched. She began to prepare the magic that swelled within, fuelled by the emotions boiling inside her. Colt silently drew a revolver from his belt and slipped bullets into the chamber one by one. Gently, Sariyah rubbed her right thumb and middle finger together, focusing on the friction it created, letting the heat swell and grow into a steady burn within her. The car door opened and Cecilia Lockwood stepped out, cerulean eyes mercilessly penetrating her surroundings.

  Colt clicked the drum into place and thumbed back the hammer, aiming directly for Cecilia. Sariyah let the heat consume her entire hand and forearm, preparing to let burst a flame. But then, following Cecilia, gripping her hand tightly, came a young teenage girl. Sariyah hesitated. Her state of pure aggression and adrenaline was momentarily disrupted, torn by the realisation that a young girl’s life would be irreversibly changed by a split-second decision to attack. Taking Lockwood down would be a change for the good of all who practised magic, but not for an innocent mortal girl. Sariyah couldn’t ruin her innocence; she knew what that was like.

  Colt’s finger tightened on the trigger and Sariyah made a split-second decision for the good of the innocent. She twisted her body and a quick but powerful shot of air with the element of surprise ensured that Colt was pinned down, Sariyah on top of him, her hand over his mouth and the gun scattered into the trees.

  Silence ensued. Sariyah dared not breathe as she stared into Colt’s glare – a mix of confusion and rage. After an agonising minute, the sound of clicking heels on tarmac was heard – two sets, moving away from the car and down the road, accompanied by the sound of faint conversation. Satisfied the girl was now safe with her mother, Sariyah released Colt and moved to the side, remaining silent. The vampire was still a mere stone’s throw away up on the road. Colt glowered at her and spoke in a whisper that was almost lost to the breeze as he righted himself and recovered his weapon.

  “What was that?”

  “I won’t harm a kid,” Sariyah replied in an equally hushed voice, “It’s not her fault her parents are killers.” She displaced the air around her with subtle hand movements, escorting the sound to Colt’s ear and no further.

  “And how do you know she isn’t brainwashed and knows exactly what’s happening?” Colt retorted contemptuously.

  “I… had a feeling.”

  Her confidence in her decision was unwavering. She knew it was the right thing to do, even if it was the wrong thing as far as her duty was concerned. Her partner was about to form a reply when his face contorted with horror. Whipping up his revolver, he fired multiple shots over Sariyah’s head. Instinctively, she dropped to the ground and caught sight of the vampire tearing over her, tackling Colt to the ground. The two became locked in combat, a scramble for dominance over each other.

  Regaining her wits, Sariyah jerked back, rapidly splaying her fingers and snapping her palm forward. The column of air impacted the fighters and separated them with ease. Colt sprawled onto the road, but the vampire was launched through the air to impact on a nearby tree with a harsh snap. Sariyah scrambled to her feet and sprinted to Colt, kneeling to turn him onto his back. His neck had been ravaged by the rabid animal and his head was hanging by a thread. Blood spoiled the side of the road where he lay and his eyes were open, staring with agony and terror, but no life. Sariyah let out a grieving sigh and took a moment to concede another friend, lost to the scourge of the vampires. It was a moment too long and she felt an acute pain. She was forced head over heels from the impact of the vampire’s claws in her back. Rolling to a stop, her hand quickly reached back. No puncture in the jacket. Thank God for reinforced clothing. The vampire loomed over Colt’s lifeless corpse, bloody fangs bared and short claws extending out of its fingers.

  She took a deep breath and pre-empted the attack, swiftly dodging to the left as the vampire leapt, carving its claws into empty space. Eager to keep a step ahead, Sariyah clicked her fingers, harnessing heated friction and coupling it with her magic. She summoned a flame in the palm of her hand and launched it before the vampire could react. The flame dispersed itself over his clothing and set alight, causing him to screech in agony. The sound emitted was animalistic and barbarous, unlike any sound a human can make. The creature stumbled towards her, attempting to make a swipe before the flames consumed it, but Sariyah was in her prime now that she had settled into the fight.

  She twisted sideways, dodging the attack, and lashed a kick to its shin, partially disabling its movement. She fired a column of air in the same direction, so powerful it extinguished the flames, but brought the creature fully to its knees.

  She rose onto the toes of her left foot, channelling magic into the ground, causing it to crack and isolate a large section of tarmac. To end the fight, Sariyah slammed down her heel, causing the chunk of tarmac to burst free from the road and slam down with terrifying impact upon the vampire’s head, as it crouched on all fours.

  Her shoulders slumped and she breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the vampire fall to the side. Unconscious or dead, it was impossible to tell with a being that had no pulse. She made a mental note to inform the Magical-Mortal Relations Department of the location, so they could perform the necessary clean-up. Then she took to her heels, running with a sprinter’s pace down the road with the remains of her fight adrenaline.

  Thank God it’s morning and not night, or that fight would have gone very differently, she told herself as she ran.

  She arrived close to a dense outcrop of trees that provided a vantage point a safe distance away from the church. Ahead she could see several plain transit vans discretely parked, the favoured inconspicuous transport of Adytum militia personnel. Sariyah stopped and planted a foot into the ground, firmly connecting with the surface. She closed her eyes and concentrated, attempting to detect any irregular pressure exerted on the earth in the nearby area before she moved to rendezvous with the militia. As she did, she brought her mind to a state of composure once more. Now was the time to focus on the mission – her mission now – to save the girl before she could be corrupted by her parent’s influence, or worse. There would be time to mourn for Colt later.

  Sariyah detected significant footfall ahead and made her way into the treeline where she found a band of Mage soldiers, around twenty-five in total. Each was dressed head to toe in the customary black armour plating, much like a mortal SWAT officer, with a visored helmet and large black boots and gloves. Each was also equipped with a yellow band, one on each arm to signify their magical discipline. Sariyah motioned to the two Adytum officers who were leading the group, Sorcerers like herself, and they set off. Light footsteps became the only sound as positions were taken up around the decaying church. Sariyah took an eight-man escort with her as they crept to the front door.

  The door was large, significantly taller than her, and Sariyah noted that it created deep-seated misgivings within her. The very timbers of the building seemed to exhale and conure up feelings of perturbation, but Sariyah recognised this for what it was – a warding charm designed to terrify; to convince any who approached that entering would be a grave error. Effective on mortals, less so on Sorcerers. She smirked and applauded the cultists’ cunning ingenuity before taking a deep breath. As she did, the Mages raised their hands in preparation and Sariyah felt pressure build in her chest. She took a final moment to prepare herself for the coming fight.

  You can do this…

  She paused to think of something witty to say. Primed, with adrenaline coursing through her veins, she transferred the pressure through her body and to her palms by means of her magic. She snapped her palms forward once mor
e and ruptured the charm. Then she blew out the hinges and decimated the door, exploding it inwards into the church.

  4

  Life and Death

  Worshippers bellowed their outrage at the intrusion. The Mages promptly engaged them in armed confrontation and Sophie watched it transpire through rapidly failing vision. The black spots in her eyes grew increasingly large, consuming the world around her. All her body’s efforts were focused on simply remaining conscious, let alone making an effort to move, but she clung on and somehow resisted passing out.

  She was aware of her dress billowing uncontrollably as a miraculous gust of cool air thundered over her. It was followed by the sound of splintering wood as Vincent Lockwood was blasted backwards into a collection of plinths.

  Sophie found it difficult to draw breath, each one arriving with a tormented croak. The grotesque creature remained above her, locked in time, entirely motionless. But she could still feel its magnetic attraction, its energy reaching and grasping for her, groping for something physical to bind onto. She continued to stare at its distorted features until another face, human in appearance, came into focus. It was a woman, youthful, with a Middle Eastern complexion, deep brown hair plastered in parts to her cheeks. Sophie felt warm hands on her wrists, then ankles, each touch leaving an odd sensation she couldn’t place. The binding pressure on each limb diminished.

  Sophie felt the woeful attraction to the creature lessen, but no sooner had her final appendage been freed than the inconceivable brute above her reanimated and shrieked in frenzied anguish. Its wings began to burn and shrivel, swiftly followed by the rest of its contorted figure. The animalistic scream rang in her ears as the beast perished and fragmented into ash. She raised her hands above her head, curling reactively into foetal position.