Part III

A blinding flash of light surrounded Allamae and the voxmage.  For a moment, it seemed like her skin and body had evaporated, only to be reconstituted an instant later. 

They were greeted by a salty breeze and starlit sky.  Allamae was back in her own body.  Dazed and breathless, she looked around for the voxmage.  She was afraid that her disorientation was only due to her unfamiliarity with teleporting.  If so, the mage might be ready to ambush her. 

But, no, he was there, not ten paces from her, on his hands and knees, taking great pains to stand.  She still felt the power of the blood mana flowing through her, her staff still beaming.  She had to finish him before he could summon help. 

Unsteady on her feet, she stabbed the end of her staff into the ground directly in front of her. 

"Succumbēs!" The word came strangely to her.

Beneath the staggering mage, grains of sand began to stream into the air around him.  Slowly at first, it quickly accelerated into a devastating torrent gushing up from below him like a fountain of dirt exploding into the sky.  The gritty particles roared up at him, tearing through cloth and skin, filling his eyes, nose, and mouth.  As it did, he sank deeper and deeper into the chasm being created under him, until all Allamae could see was a geyser of shimmering dust erupting from the hole, coalescing into a dense cloud of sand swirling above it. 

When the sand had stopped, she could hear his devastating wails, like a man being burned at the stake.  But there was no sympathy left in her.  He had killed her parents.  Without a second thought, she let the dense cloud of sand fall onto him in a dusty crash, silencing him and burying him alive. 

After that, only a small mound of sand remained where the man had been.  All she could hear was the waves breaking on the shore and the sound of her own heavy breathing. 

In the distance Allamae noticed the ray of light scanning across the open ocean.  She turned to look.  It was just a lighthouse.  The top of the tall structure glowed a warm yellow, while a bright beam swept all the way around the night’s sky.  Seeing the lighthouse, she realized she must be on the coast of Sanguine Bay. 

Is this where they will launch their attack? She wondered.

She followed the beam of light as it raced across the horizon, straining to make out, what she expected would be a vast fleet of ships.  On the third pass, Allamae made out, what looked to be, just four ships on the horizon.

This must only be the first wave, she told herself.

As the ships grew closer, Allamae noticed that there was something large and reflective on one of them.  From what she could make out, it looked like a large spiraling, metallic horn.  It was much bigger than any horn she’d ever seen before – so large, in fact, that it took up the entire top deck of the third ship.  The size of it alone was chilling. 

Some sort of weapon? She wondered.

She still had no idea where her sister was.  That the ships were still approaching likely meant that the children had not yet been taken.  Allamae found herself wishing she had questioned the voxmage before killing him.  Not that he would have told her much.

She turned her back to the ocean and looked inland.  About one-hundred feet from the water was a wide boulevard that ran beside the bay’s coastline for several hundred miles.  The road began at the southern-most point of Sephronia and ended here at the mouth of the bay.  As the light from the lighthouse swept over it, Allamae saw a crowd of people marching up the road toward her location. 

An army?  She thought.  Ours or theirs?

Whose ever side they were on, they were headed her way.  The rotating light strobed over the moving horde.  They seemed to vanish and then reappear, closer with every pass. 

A sudden burst of white smoke exploded not an arm’s-length away from Allamae.  From it emerged another voxmage.  His eyes narrowed on her right before she withdrew herself.

Is that…?

There was a child slung over this voxmage’s shoulder like a ragdoll.  The child’s head was covered with a roughspun sack, but he or she was much too tall to be her sister.  Nonetheless, the tot’s copper colored skin meant that this was a Sephronian child.  And if the voxmage who’d murdered her parents had told it true, the child would be Vooduun as well.

Within a few seconds another voxmage appeared, with another child.  This one older and standing on his own, without a hood; though, his hands were still bound.  Rivers of tears ran down the boy’s face.  His heaving sobs sounded more like moans than crying.  His handler ignored them.

 “I saw a Vooduun female vanish, right as I arrived here.” The first mage called out to the second.  “Be on your guard.  She is like to be still in the vicinity.”

Allamae knew she wouldn't be able to keep herself withdrawn from more than another mind or two.  The power the blood mana had given her was receding.  But she couldn't leave; one of the arriving mages may be toting her sister.

Another mage appeared, and then another. Then there were five, and then seven; and then she lost count. The bursts of light announcing the mages’ arrivals were happening at such a rapid succession that before she knew it, she was surrounded by magi. All of whom could see her. 

The magi bound her in place with a flurry of incantations so quickly that Allamae did not have time to react.  She stood motionless in the sand.  She could not move; though, her heart was pounding in her chest

"That must be the hoont bitch that murdered Edwin," one of them shouted. 

Allamae recognized him the mage that she’d left unconscious.  The one who had been guarding the back entrance of her parents’ home.  Remembering her murdered parents made her heart sink.  She should have killed this one too.

“Is that so?” Another mage stepped out from the crowd, this one a woman.  She was dressed more elaborately than the others, in a black cashmere brocade that extended the full length of her tall stature.  It was embroidered with rich grey silk vines, with a high collar and long sleeves that ended in cuffs of raven’s feathers.  Her black hair was pulled back to form a tight, neat bun behind her head, which emphasized her long, sharp features. 

The woman mage paced a circle around her, eying Allamae disdainfully like a shark closing in on its prey.  “You are fortunate that she did not kill you as well, Theyden.  It is uncommon that these thugs have the capacity for restraint.”  She called back to the guard, her eyes never leaving Allamae.  “I suspect that Byron did not fare as well.  He is still amiss.” she grabbed Allamae by the chin, drawing her face close to her own.  "Did you kill him?"    

Enraged voices called out from the crowd of mages that were now surrounding her.  "Murderous whore!"

"Slit that hoont bitch's throat!" They shouted.

A derisive smile formed on the woman's thin lips.  Turning away from Allamae to face the crowd of discontented magi and their sobbing young captives, she said: "Though it would be well within our rights to execute this necromantrix for the murder of our brethren, Edwin and Theyden; unlike the blood-thirsty Vooduun, our advanced discipline of magick encourages restraint -- a virtue in which these people are sorely lacking.  And so we will be merciful.

“We will spare this one.  And she will bear witness to the punishment that her people have forced us to carry out through their continued vile and corrupt uses of magick, against neighboring nations and even against their own people. For these reasons and with a heavy heart the Principle Orator has decreed that all Sephronia should be stripped of its mana, which will render it and its people mundane for all time."

That can't be possible, Allamae thought, still unable to move or speak. 

"Behold! The destruction of the Vooduun." In one sharp, dramatic motion the Vice Orator turned her gaze toward the bay and pointed a slender gloved finger.  As she did, Allamae felt her head wrench to the left; as if someone had grabbed her head and turned it by force.

There was the fleet of ships - much, much closer to the beach now, and motionless in the water.  They had arranged themselves in a line, end to end, parallel to the coast.  At this distance, Allamae had a better view of the huge shimmering object that was on top of the central boat.  It did seem to be a horn (of sorts). 

“We call it the HELICON OF VERDICT.  Fine work, don’t you think?  The Baltarians were too scattered and self-righteous to give aid this cause directly.  But recognizing that the wickedness of your people must be stopped, they lent us some of their most skilled artificers.  And they have crafted this most incredible instrument of justice.”

In the distance, Allamae heard the tolling of the city bells announcing the eleventh hour.

“It is time that we depart my sisters and brothers,” she proclaimed to the other voxmages.  “Stalwart Geoffen, you will stay behind and guard her.”

A doe-eyed boy, no older than fourteen stepped forward, fear bulging from his eyes.

“I… I…” he stuttered.

 “Do not worry, Geoffen,” she said while taking his hand; her voice suddenly sweet. “This one cannot hurt you.  We have bound her with powerful spells, for which her crude vooduu is no equal.  See how easy it was for us to infiltrate their land, execute their leaders and heads of household, in order to liberate their children.  They are no match for us.”     

Suddenly, somewhere from the gathering of mages came sudden sheiks of panic that cut through the dull murmurings of the crowd and the sea.  Allamae's gaze was still fixed on the water, and she could not turn to see what was causing the screams.  But she could see several of them running into the water, dragging their captives behind them, tripping over their gaudy apparel and the salty waves breaking on the sand.  She watched those who'd managed to keep their footing disappear in a flash of light.  In the distances, she noted corresponding flashes of light on the ships anchored in the bay.  

“EXHIBE!” The Vice Orator shouted into the scene with such force that Allamae could feel the mana ebb from around her. 

She also noticed that the binding on her had weaken.  Not enough for her to move her hands or feet, but enough for her to crane her neck toward the commotion.

What she saw was harrowing.  Dispersed among the crowd had appeared a hoard of corpses.  Their bodies were a lifeless gray -- some of the corpses were missing flesh that had rotted or been torn away.  Their eyes were pale and glazed over, offering no signs of expression or emotion.  A raspy groaning bellowed from deep inside of them as they staggered after the fleeing mob. They attacked indiscriminately, charging after the magi and Vooduun children alike.  Those that had been too slow or too frightened to react screamed and gasped as the dead men bit fiendishly into their throats and clawed at their faces and bodies, as dark blood soaked into the sand beneath their feet.

"Zumbi." Allamae managed to mutter.

At this, the Vice Orator snapped back around, returning a ferocious leer at her captive and redoubling the magical bind that was holding her -- this time tighter, constricting Allamae so that it was difficult for her to breathe.

"You did this!" She spat. "Your bastardizations of magick have no decency.  You would wake the dead of your own people to fight your battles for you?  I knew your people to be wicked, but I did not expect you to be craven as well."

But Allamae did not have a hand in this.  She had not even known it was possible to truly reanimate the dead.   She had heard stories of course.  But by all accounts only extreme blood magic could transform a long-dead corpse into an ambling zumbi.  And to produce an army of them must have required an equally sizable number of sacrifices murders.  The Bokor are cruel, indeed.

"Geoffen!" The slender woman shouted. "You will stay with her until all of the mages have teleported to the ships."

"B-but..."                                                           

"You will do as you are told! These creatures will not attack you as long as you remain near her," she lied.

"O-okay.  Yes, madam, I will stay" the boy said, feigning bravery the best he could.

The Vice Orator offered the boy a fabricated smile, and then disappeared in a bright flash. 

Only a few mages were left now, all of whom were seemingly too busy fighting or scrambling away from the zumbi to teleport to the ships.  Allamae watched as a fallen undead corpse caught the ankle of a fleeing mage nearly tripping him.  In the mages arms was a child, wailing beneath a hood that covered his face.  The mage regained his footing a few paces away from the pursuing corpse.  Turning around, he tossed the boy, kicking and writhing, at the ravenous monster, who immediately began ripping into the flesh of the small boy.  Within moments the boy's wails receded into gurgling rasps as blood bubbled from his chest and throat.

Release me! Allamae pressed into Geoffen's mind.  If she was going to die tonight, it would not be as a defenseless captive to this stammering novice. 

"Y-y-you s-stay outta my head," he stuttered.

Just then a zumbi charged at the young mage.  He shouted a spell at it, knocking it backwards off its feet. 

Unlike the Vice Orator, it seemed that Geoffen could not easily manage more than one spell.  When he focused on repelling the zumbi, Allamae was able to break free of his bind and withdraw herself from his mind.

"No!" He shouted.

But he did not have time to cast a spell that would reveal her - another pair of zumbi were charging towards him with remarkable speed.  The young voxmage caught sight of the creature just in time to repel it with his voice.  But the second one was on him before he could react, knocking him to the ground.  It was all the boy could do to keep the monster's teeth from tearing into his throat. 

Unseen, Allamae turned to flee.  But she hesitated.  She looked back to see Geoffen on the ground, panting and struggling against the crazed creature for his life -- the boy's face was soaked with sweat, blood, and tears.

Before she knew what she was doing, Allamae thrust her staff through the back of the creature's skull.  The zumbi's bone was soft from decay, and the sharp end of her staff emerged from the front of its skull like a horn, coated in wet, putrid brain flesh that splattered and then dripped onto the boy's face.

In one quick motion, Allamae kicked the unmoving corpse away from Geoffen, and pointed the end of her staff at the apple of his throat.  He stared at her, motionless, save for the rapid rising and falling of his chest. 

"W-why did you s-s-save me?" he asked between heaving breaths, seeing her again.

"Perhaps the Vooduun are not at blood thirsty as your leaders have led you to believe."

In her periphery, Allamae saw another corpse darting toward her, drooling, it’s gaunt black arms outstretched. In one fluid motion, Allamae pirouetted away from the thing only to spin around and bash the creature on the back of its head with her staff – its faint green glow tracing a lingering arch of light across the night sky.  The resulting blow caused the creature's head to explode in gory mess that scattered across the sand and Geoffen.

The boy flinched and started to push himself to his feet, but with the quick reflex she returned the point of her staff to his neck.

"Where is my sister?" She demanded.

He looked confused.  "I-I-I d-don't know," he sputtered.

She eyed him suspiciously and decided that he was telling the truth. Given the boy's treatment by the Vice Orator, he was doubtful that he would be trusted with the specifics of the Kingdoms' plan.  And he seemed to dim-witted to lie.

"Well, do you know where they are taking the children then?" She said, reasserting her gaze.

“I heard that they will b-b-be t-taken b-back to the D-Dual Kingdoms.”

"Why?"

"All we were told is that it was to ‘preserve the magic.’"  His tone made it sound more like a question than an answer. 

‘To preserve the magic’?

“What in GOD’s name does that mean?” 

"I don’t know.  I’m only a Stalwart, no one tells…” The boy’s eyes grew wide as saucers.  “Look out!" He shouted, pointing over her shoulder. 

Allamae darted to one side and saw a fat reanimated corpse swipe a meaty hand at the place where she had been standing over Geoffen.  The zumbi stumbled forward, having missed its target, and began to teeter forward.   

The young mage hollered a quick succession of words – frantic, terror plain on his face.

In a heartbeat, the falling corpse froze into a solid mass, as the boy rolled to one side avoiding the wide frozen body that crashed heavy on the ground in a muffled thud.

Why is it that we can only see then when they are right on us?  

Then she realized: “A hex.”

She jabbed the bottom of her staff into the ground, closed her eyes, and gently undulated her body in a steady rhythm.  A dome of light radiated from the top of the staff, then silently exploded outward encompassing the two of them. 

“We are shrouded from them,” she said, helping the boy to his feet.

“What are they?” He asked, staring thru the hazy dome at the mindless creatures wandering the beach. 

Standing beside her, she realized how tall the boy was, and thin, with a thick head of wispy brown hair.  And the boy had the hands of a man much bigger and stronger than he.

“My people call them ‘zumbi.’  They are the dead, revived.  Cursed creatures, who must feed on living blood to replenish the mana that bears them.”

“A-a-and you…?”

“I did not!” She cut him off, turning to jab a finger solidly at his chest.  “We did not! This is the work of the Bokor.”

“Your l-leaders.” He said, leery.

“Our oppressors!” she corrected him.  “The Bokor are tyrants.  They threaten and sacrifice the same people they profess to protect for power, and to work this wicked magic.”

She gestured at the ambling creatures, and took a deep breath to calm herself.  “We have suffered so much, and would have had you save us from them.  But instead you have condemned us all in the name of our supposed salvation.”

The boy looked dumbstruck, his eyebrows furrowed in a tremble.

"You should go."  She told him.

“B-b-b-but what w-w-will…”

His question was interrupted by a devastating groan that was louder than any sound she had ever heard in her life.  The roar seemed to be erupting from the sea, and was vibrating her skull so much that Allamae wasn’t sure that the earth below her feet was not shaking as well.  Covering her ears only seemed to trap the sound in her head.  The sound droned on for a full minute before relenting, and all the two of them could do was wait until it ended.

“What on earth was that?” She uttered breathlessly.

The young mage pointed a trembling, oversized hand at the one ship that was still anchored in the bay: The one with the monstrous horn atop its deck.

“Go!” She insisted this time.

Resigned, the young mage pronounced a word before being consumed by a burst of light.  But he did not vanish.

“What are you doing?” Allamae asked the boy, who looked as confused as she was.

“I-I-I don’t know, it should have worked.”

“Is the ship too far?” She asked.

He looked out to sea. “No. I’ve gone as far as ten miles before.”

Her eyes narrowed on the metal object on the unmoving ship. “What does it do again?”

“Oh no!” he gasped. “I-i-it was rumored that the h-helicon could sap all of mana from an entire region.”

Allamae had noticed that the zumbi had all collapsed to the ground, the mana that supported them seemingly drained out of them instantaneously.  And she’d sensed a diminishment of mana after the horn had stopped.  She shuttered. 

 “Try again.  There is still mana here.  But you will have to concentrate harder to complete your spell.”

“What will you do?” He blurted. "I-I-I could take you with me!"

This one is a fool -- but a compassionate one.

"Thank you, Geoffen.” She said, allowing herself a smile.  “But I must find my sister.”

"S-s-she may be there!" He contended.

"And if she is, I cannot help her.  I will have to trust the gods to keep her safe.  But if she is still here, and I left without her, I couldn't live..."She trailed off.

Biting his lip - acknowledgement waxed across the boy’s face.

"What is your sister's name?" He asked.

"Nidili Laveau."

Geoffen nodded grimly.   And this time he gave full voice to the incantation.  The young mage's voice filled the open air before he vanished in a bright display.

Following his departure, the Helicon exploded into sound again.  Its deafening resonance boomed out over the bay, stirring the wind as it did.  The dense noise caused chill bumps to form on Allamae's arms and legs.  She felt faint and nauseated at the same time: weak. 

In the bay, the water was growing choppy.  Larger and larger waves began to break on the shore, and the tide edged its way up the beach.  The wind gusted around her -- whipping through her hair, tugging at her clothes, and spraying grains of wet sand at her legs and ankles.

A storm approaches.

But whether the sudden turbulent weather was coincidence or had been created by the horn at sea, she could not say.  But all that she cared about now, was finding her sister.

All of the children the magi had abducted had been taken to the ships when they fled, except for a few small lifeless bodies that were scattered along the sandy shore.  There were nine of them.   Allamae’s heart pounded with the thought that one of these might be her sister.

She made her way along the beach, examining each of the children.  They were cold and stiff with death.  Most of them still had their hands bound and the heads covered. 

The first body she came upon turned out to be a young boy she'd seen almost every day riding through town on her way to the University.  Nico he was called.  The boy always sported a wide snaggle-toothed smile while he entertained local passers-by with simple illusions and enchantments.  Allamae had even stopped a few times to watch his little show.  When he'd finished and gestured towards his hat for a tip.  Instead Allamae showed him how to make his illusions more believable. 

She buried Nico where he lay, as the horn blew a third time and the wind picked up its pace.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she moved from small body to small body removing the cloth sacks from the children's faces and unbinding their hands.  She recognized most of them; though, she did not know all of their names. 

There were the twin girls, whom Allamae had never seen without their thin jumping-ropes, until now. 

While she was burying them, the horn blew twice more.  The time between the horn's blares was shortening.  And heavy rain had begun falling from the sky, speckling the beach with dark wet spots, while the stiff winds lashed through the long, wide leaves of the tall palm trees.

After more than an hour of searching, she was overcome with a combination of relief and profound sadness, none of the slain children had been her sister.  During that time, the horns blows became nearly constant.  The intervals between its reverberations had become but momentary pauses; while the sounding of the horn grew longer and more intense with each blow. 

Allamae pushed herself to her feet with the help of her staff.  The force of the wind made it difficult to stand, even the limber palm trees were having trouble withstanding the wind’s power.  Sand mixed with hail now pelted her face, blinding her and making it difficult to see. 

And then the horn blew, and Allamae could feel that there was almost no mana left in the vicinity.  The faint green glow of her staff was barely visible.

The horn blew. 

Tall heavy waves began to crash onto the shore -- one after the other, each wall of water higher and more ominous than the one before.  It had been years since Allamae had seen a storm with such power.  She looked around for cover - but the only shelter in the area was the towering light house. It would have to do.

The horn blew.

With her arms covering her face, she fought her way through the impeding wind -- each step a small battle that seemed a part of an insurmountable war.

And the horn blew, and Allamae wondered what was left to fight for.  Her land was molested, parents murdered, her sister had been abducted for gods'-knows what purpose, and she was powerless to stop any of it.  Who would she be?  And what would become of her people?

The horn blew.

But Allamae had never given up without a fight -- and today, of all days, would not also mark the death of her notorious tenacity.  So much had already been taken from her.

And the horn blew, and she thought of her sister -- somewhere out there scared, waiting for her big sister to save her.

The horn blew, and she pressed onward toward the strobing tower, as debris whizzed past her.

And the horn blew.

We will overcome this, she vowed.

And the horn blew, and blew, and blew.

 Prolo