Midnight Moon

Chapter 48 - House Risalus Will Rise

Veanna clenched her jaw as pain burned through her body, fighting the urge to struggle against Faltis to remove her hands from Ren.

The shaft of moonlight falling onto the tomb brightened, creating a beam so intense she had to squint. The light streamed through the blood-filled carvings on the coffin lid, making them glow unnaturally. The inside of the coffin also shone faintly, and she wondered how long it would take to rouse Ren as his name resounded through the cavern, echoing within the chants called by the Order.

Her own lips moved almost silently as she recited the name of every ancestor she could think of, praying that their idea worked and she could draw their souls through the ritual as well as Ren's. Since they had agreed on their plan at the inn, she had desperately tried to remember as many names as possible, and had committed several more to memory as they passed through the smaller burial chambers. As her friends marked coffins with blood from the fallen soldiers above, the magic should channel into each one of them - or so Calu thought.

House Risalus was more than her, more than Ren. Her ancestors were rising from their graves to help her in this fight.

Or at least she hoped they were. As she murmured her desperate summons, she could only pray that somewhere in the crypts they answered her call. Until they came to her aid, she had no way of knowing whether it was working or not.

Perhaps her blood was failing her still.

***

Calu almost lost his grip on the light spell, but clung on, daunted by the prospect of being plunged into darkness as a skeletal arm emerged from the coffin before him. It pushed the tomb lid inch by inch until the gap was large enough for a shoulder to push through. Then a head appeared, a bare skull that spun slowly to face the group of the living.

Jate raised his sword, horror gripping his face as he took a wary step towards the coffin.

"It's on our side," Neyerith called, then muttered, "I hope."

Jate stopped, but didn't turn or lower his weapon as the skeleton sat up. "What did you do?"

The skeleton shifted again, its movements jerky but gradually becoming smoother, pulling itself over the stone lip and out onto the floor. It may have worn fine clothes once, but they had rotted into the shadows. A scraping sound on the other side of the room made the group jump as the second coffin began to open too.

Neyerith swallowed. "The short version is: these are royal crypts, the Order are trying to resurrect an evil ancient magic guy, we prepared some of the other coffins so the resurrection thing would spread to them." He waved the rag he held, soaked to everyone's reluctance in the pools of blood from the slaughter aboveground. "Have I missed anything important?"

Tia shook her head, her gaze fixed on the second skeleton as it emerged, its clothing long gone but some jewellery lingering on its bones. A golden circlet resting on the skeletal brow glinted in the light, along with a jewelled necklace swinging against the ribcage. Clinking sounds were audible as the figure rose, rings and bracelets falling back into the coffin from fingers and wrists that were now so much thinner than when they had been adorned.

Calu felt his palm sweating, then glanced down and saw the blood coating his hand from his turn wielding the rag. The hovering light shifted, making the blood glisten on his skin. He felt a flash of recognition, remembering his vision at the temple of his bloody hand. He was relieved that the blood was not his, nor drawn by him from another, but it had been thoroughly unpleasant to coat his hands in the lifeblood of the recently massacred.

"We should gather some more... backup," Tia said, eyeing the unarmed skeletons doubtfully.

"There should be more soldiers on the way," Jate said as the skeletons edged their way around the coffins, moving as though they were remembering how to walk. "A nearby barracks was preparing for an assault when I left, and I sent word to the King to dispatch more forces. They should find their way here."

"And how long will that take?" she responded sharply.

The undead halted level with the group, and they all drew back. The skeletons didn't move closer, their attention fixed on Jate. It was difficult to tell where the empty eye sockets were directed, but they seemed to be looking down at the royal crest embroidered on his uniform. As one, they gave a slight bow before turning and continuing out of the room. Judging by the clacking noises outside, they joined a growing parade of the undead.

"Is it normal for Kings and Queens to bow to their soldiers?" Tia murmured.

"They're not Kings or Queens anymore," Calu pointed out, hoping his voice would stop shaking soon along with his hand and knees. It was a relief not to be in the same room as the skeletons anymore, even for a brief time. He was still plagued with unease at the knowledge they were headed to slaughter his fellow mages, but he didn't have time to dwell on thoughts of the people who had raised him, however lovelessly.

"They're still superior to me," Jate said, frowning at the doorway the skeletons had left through.

Calu shook his head. "Tonight, their purpose is to serve their descendent; they're loyal to Veanna. They probably recognise you as an ally."

"The real question is," Neyerith interjected, "If they're skeletons, how can they see?"

Tia sighed. "They are standing and walking because of magic; I do not think you should worry about their senses." He shrugged and she continued, "What we should be doing is raising more of them."

Jate gestured after the skeletons. "If they're going to help Veanna, we should follow them."

"We can't yet." Neyerith shifted uncomfortably. "To give her the best chance, we need to resurrect as many ancestors as possible."

"What good are numbers if Veanna dies in the meantime?" Jate asked through gritted teeth.

"They shield you from dying while trying to save her," Tia pointed out cooly, walking towards the second doorway, which led deeper into the network of burial chambers. "We are wasting time."

Calu shrugged helplessly towards Jate. "If these skeletons are active, it won't be long before Ren has enough power to wake. We can't let him be fully resurrected."

Jate flipped his sword hilt in his palm, his grim expression turning sour. "Fine, but this had better be quick. I've been waiting for months to find her; I can't sit back now."

As Calu followed his friends into the shadows, he swore he heard noises under the march of the skeletons - the tapping of hooves and the clink of armour echoing down the passages.

***

It was chilling to see the dead walk. The chanting filling the cavern cut off with cries of shock and fear when the skeletons poured in on all sides, intermingling with screams as they attacked. Veanna allowed herself a moment to breathe, her list of ancestors spent and the pain in her hands lessening as the spell faltered.

"Don't stop!" the High Priestess roared furiously. "The ritual must be completed, whatever the cost." She screamed commands to her subordinates, raging at her own ancestors even as Veanna's advanced. The Order's recitations resumed, though they were now mixed with the shouts of panicked incantations to launch spells at the skeletal attackers.

Faltis alone did not appear alarmed. He looked surprised, but his dark eyes held more curiosity than fear as they turned to stare at her. She glared defiantly back as he continued to pin her hands in place, but he shook his head. His gaze seemed to say, You haven't won yet.

A retort danced on Veanna's tongue, but before she could even try to make herself heard over the din, there was movement below her hands. A sight she recognised only too well sent her heart dropping to the pit of her stomach as a skull emerged from the gloom of the coffin, symbols cut into its cheekbones, jaw, and forehead.

Ren's head turned slowly, landing on Veanna. Its eyeless gaze fixed on her and a deep, unearthly laugh rose from its lipless mouth.

Veanna screamed.