Dreamer's Throne

Book 3: Chapter 24

After fifteen minutes had passed and a dozen dead dream flowers lay at his feet, he felt as if he had finally turned the corner. In the midst of the withered flowers, the vampire lay, twitching slightly, a strange expression halfway between a scream of fear and a furious roar, etched on her unmoving face. Her eyes, which had once glared menacingly up at Garrett, were now blank. And with a command, Garrett sent one of the dream flowers to take root in her empty mind. It had been hard work peeling back the layers of control that Agma-Yoth had woven into her soul. And even now, Garrett wasn't sure that he had gotten all of it. There was still too much he didn't understand about the way the mysterious artifacts and mental energy worked and even though, in capturing her, he had managed to get the bone finger rod that she had used to transform herself into a vampire, he simply didn't have time to study it.

Crawling up and onto Delrisa's head, the dream flower shimmered, its roots piercing deep into her skull, leaving not a single mark behind. Her natural defenses tried to interfere, but Garrett's mental pressure was simply too much, and it pressed down on her with renewed strength. Free and clear to act, it only took a moment for the dream flower to take root. When it did, there was a dreadful shriek, like the grinding of a million teeth, as the faint hidden traces of Agma-Yoth's energy were finally expelled.

Exhausted, Garrett stood and took a step back, relaxing his control over Delrisa. The necromancer rose, panting, to her knees, her eyes blinking as she stared around at the world, almost as if seeing it for the very first time. The flower that had taken root in her mind only had four blooms, which didn't guarantee Garrett complete control over her. Her strength had fallen back to that of a late lighting stage awakened, though Garrett suspected that that weakness had more to do with the stripping away of Agma-Yoth's power than her natural state.

It was likely that after recovering her strength, she would drift back into the low Shaper level, as that was where vampires naturally sat. There was a faint sense of horror in her expression as she looked down at her hands and then up at Garrett, half expecting her to jump up and attack him. Garrett was surprised when instead her head dropped back to the ground, slamming into the floor so hard her forehead split, scattering drops of black blood across the floor.

"Thank you," she said.

The words were quiet, so quiet they almost didn't make it out of her throat, but the feeling behind them was anything but. Through his connection with the dream flower, John could feel a thick energy erupting from inside Delrisa's heart and mind. True gratitude, something he had never expected to appear in a vampire, or a necromancer for that matter, hit him like a physical force, causing him to sway slightly. It was the same sort of feeling that he had experienced with the young girl and her treasured stone. And just as before, he could feel the Dreamer's Throne siphoning it away, causing his connection with the mysterious artifact to deepen. His astonishment only grew when, before his eyes, a fifth bud appeared on the dream flower, rapidly blooming to create a fifth blossom.

This also confirmed a theory of his: five blooms signified his absolute control and the loss, at least for anybody in the lighting stage, of their ability to govern themselves, as their minds were entirely supplanted by the dream flower. Blooms grow naturally; however, through the efforts of the individual carrier, they produced a different result, something much more interesting. It was clear that Delrisa had done something, made some sort of choice, and as she looked up at him, black blood trickling over her eyebrow, she made it clear exactly what that was.

"You have freed me," she said, "from the Skeletal Hand of Lesrak. Such a boon can never be repaid."

There was a single moment of hesitation, but then a bright flower seemed to surface in her eyes, and she quickly bowed again, not hitting her head this time, but bringing her forehead so low it was only a fraction of an inch from the ground.

"I, Delrisa the Bone Witch, give my true oath to serve you until the end of my days."

There was an odd magic about her words, one that Garrett didn't understand, but they coiled around him like a chain, sinking into his body before he could respond. He was very familiar with the bond created by the dream flowers, and it had grown so natural to him that he barely even noticed them anymore. This, however, contained a subtle difference, and he felt as if there was a connection drawn between him and the vampire that passed beyond even the connection he had with the flowers. It was as if Delrisa had layered another chain on top of the one that already connected her to Garrett through the dream flower, strengthening it and making it unbreakable. Delrisa remained kneeling, clearly waiting for him to say something, but Garrett was honestly at a loss. His intent in cracking open the control that Agma-Yoth had over the Bone Witch was so that he could tear what she knew from her mind, hoping to gain an advantage over the great ruler of undead. Instead, he had gotten something else entirely: the clear and unquestioning loyalty of a powerful vampire, a loyalty he honestly didn't want at all, but would put to good use nonetheless.

As Garrett was attempting to figure out what to do with this startling development, things outside the hollow space in the city were equally chaotic. The zombies had continued their relentless assault, and even with Gero Twin Blade's assistance, Pascal the Crusher was having a terrible time against the giant undead monstrosity that was attempting to smash through his lines. The necromancer had realized he wasn't going to get anywhere fighting against the two shapers, and so started to push forward, weathering the brutal assault they unleashed as he headed for the battle line. This had forced the battle line back, as none of the other awakened would be able to survive the slug necromancer's assault. As for Pascal and Gero, they should have been able to kill him at least a dozen times, as the necromancer wasn't even a shaper. But the unnatural vitality his undead transformation gave him allowed the slug monster to weather the storm as he pulled his grotesque body forward.

Arthur Tellson and the adventurers were having even more problems with the Maragoth, who was rampaging through their ranks with surprising ease. So far, they had managed to keep most of their forces in one piece, though a few unfortunate casualties hit by claws or its breath attack had been transformed into undead skeletons that had to be cut down. They had been chipping away at the monster, doing their best to slow it down, but that just seemed to annoy it, and it began to unleash powerful attacks with its tail, smashing through the buildings where the ranged attackers hid. When Pax and the others arrived, they stopped a good two blocks away, staring up at the giant creature in shock.

"Are you sure we're supposed to go fight that thing?" Kinsley asked, licking his lips.

Ignoring the question, Pax turned to Asher.

"Any idea how to disable it like you did with those zombies?"

Unfortunately, Asher shook his head.

"No," he said. "Whatever's animating it is way out of my league."

"I was afraid of that," Pax said, her voice grim. "Then it sounds like our only option is hitting it as hard as possible."

"Somehow, I don't think that's going to work," Maren mumbled under his breath.

"Won't know till we try," Pax replied, beginning to stride forward. Sharing worried glances, the others joined, and soon they had come into the large, open intersection where the Maragoth was fighting against the adventurers. Seeing the guild leader fighting on his own at the front of the creature, Pax slammed her mace into her shield, letting out a roar as she charged forward. Muttering under her breath, Estelle hurried after her, hoping as much as possible to mitigate the damage that she knew Pax would take. Maren immediately joined the ranged fighters, sending glowing bolts at the giant monster's eyes, while Pax, Kinsley, and Asher each took a deep breath, looked at each other, and then started to advance.

The Maragoth was laying waste to everything around it, and the intersection where it stood had been widened by at least half, as it wiped out the nearby buildings. For the moment, it seemed content to fight the swarms of adventurers, and its movements held a casual disregard that infuriated Tellson. Hearing a sound, he risked a glance over his shoulder and saw a heavily armored woman charging forward. The black mask on her face caught his attention, and when he saw the insignia of the Klein family, his eyes widened.

"Careful," Pax yelled, brushing past the guild leader and planting her feet firmly as she intercepted a claw strike aimed at his back.

The Maragoth's claw slammed into her shield, and she took two quick steps back, dispersing some of the force. At the same time, she let out a bright shout.

"Ha!"

Filling the air around her, the sound traveled into Paxs shield, and there was a flash of light, causing the monster's claw to actually bounce away. It seemed to recoil in pain, and the guild master swore he saw a faint smoke appear where the claw had met the shield. Pax, without pausing, threw herself forward, her mace slamming down on the retreating claw, causing another bright flash. It only took a moment for the confused guild master to realize what was going on, as a glowing crossbow bolt tore a streak through the dark air, slamming into the undead monstrosity and causing flame to burst to life around it.

The Klein family team was using specialized undead hunting equipment, typically only found with the Grave Walker gang, and using it to great effect. Actually hurt for the first time since the fight began, the Maragoth's attention turned to Pax, Maren, and a moment later, Kinsley, as a fierce blast of flame slammed into its chest. After they recovered from their shock, the adventurers nearby exchanged glances and renewed their attacks with redoubled effort, their morale surging as they saw the Maragoth stumble. Across the city, the fight continued fiercely, and though the defending forces occasionally seemed to gain an advantage or even reclaim some ground, there was no doubt that they were slowly being pushed back. The horde of zombies was simply too strong, too overwhelming, and its annoying tendency to create more soldiers with every death it caused allowed the necromancers to bolster their forces.

Under the relentless pressure of Agma-Yoths forces, the first part of the defensive line to fracture was the point with the least cohesiveness. While the Brass Tiger Syndicates forces had all been alive, they had at least been able to work together, but once their defensive line had been reinforced by other gangs, all of that fell apart. Instead of coordinating, each of the gangs forces worked independently to kill as many zombie as possible. That would have been fine in most circumstances against a mindless enemy like the zombies, but in this case it created gaps in the formation that the necromancers exploited by sending their biggest, strongest minions into.

Seeing massive zombies rushing for the spaces between the different gangs, the fighters instinctively drew back, forming pockets to protect themselves, hoping that the other gang would take on the challenge. Though they quickly realized the problem and tried to correct it, the damage had already been done, and the zombies pushed deep into their lines. Huge, muscular forms, with skin as gray as iron, and just about as hard, these zombies were like a living wall, creating space for their smaller, quicker brethren to dart forward. One of the massive zombies let out a loud roar and lunged forward, its steel-like arms reaching out to seize one of the gang members. Though its attack was blocked by a wildly swung sword, one of the smaller zombies took advantage of the mans flailing defense and bit deep into his calf.

With a pained shriek, the man crumpled to the ground where grasping hands dragged him through the large zombies legs and he vanished into the milling horde. One of the other gang members next to him panicked and tried to retreat, backing into the rest of his group in his haste to escape. This gave the large zombie space, and with another roar, it slammed its huge body forward, using its hardened muscles as a battering ram. Already off balance, the gang member was caught in the chest and fell in a tangled mess, taking down someone else with him. Once again, a dozen hands with dirty nails grabbed at them, pulling them into the sea of zombies. With their backs suddenly exposed, the gang members tried to defend themselves, but they were attacked from every conceivable angle and fell within seconds.

Plug the gap! Gero Twin Blade roared, attempting to sever the pudgy arm that was reaching for her.

Her forces, who happened to be nearby, charged into the empty space created by the fallen gang members, their black blades hacking and cutting the zombies apart. The massive zombie fell under the furious strikes of Geros lieutenant, who wielded a eight inch wide broadsword with entirely too much ease. Yet even as they carved their way through the advancing enemy, stemming the tide that surged toward them, other parts of the line began to falter, pulled apart by the relentless attacks they faced. Worse, another necromancer had just appeared in the back of the zombie army, this one tall and thin, wielding a long chain that moved like a serpent, seeming almost alive.

Though he wasnt in the shaper stage, at least as far as Paskal could tell, the tall necromancer was awfully close, and as he stalked forward, the Brass Tiger gang leader felt a chill rushing down his spine. It was one thing to fight against a monstrous aberration with seemingly endless vitality, and entirely another to guard against hidden attacks. The huge slug necromancer that he and Gero had been beating on was already showing signs of starting to fade, and adding another enemy who was equally powerful was not what they needed at the moment. Seeing his glance, Gero took a deep breath and volunteered.

Ill deal with the tall one, you finish off this monster. But hurry it up, because I have a feeling there are more coming.

With a grunt, Paskal unleashed a slash that nearly took one of the slugs arms off. Black blood sprayed through the air but he dodged it, giving Gero a heavy stare right before he dove back in.

Fine. Just dont get killed before that.