Chapter 33 #2
Milo insisted on coming with us despite his weakened state. "I let them take Horrace and my skeletons," determination hardened his usually cheerful features. "I'm helping get him back."
With the decision made, we followed Fenric, who used the beacon to lead us back up the stairs and out of the warehouse. The temporal distortions seemed to have lessened, though reality still felt thin, fragile, like tissue paper stretched to its breaking point.
Outside, the night had deepened, stars obscured by clouds that moved too quickly across the sky. The beacon led us toward the waterfront, its pulsing growing more urgent as we approached our destination.
"There," Fenric pointed to an abandoned lighthouse that stood at the edge of the harbor. Its light, which should have been dark given its derelict state, was active, sweeping across the water in an unnatural rhythm.
"That's not a regular lighthouse beam," Zane eyes narrowed. "It's a summoning signal."
As we drew closer, I could feel the wrongness of the place. The air around the lighthouse shimmered like heat waves, reality bending and warping. The spiral mark on my side responded, burning hotter with each step.
"They're already starting the ritual," Milo leaned heavily on Zane for support. "We need to hurry."
We approached the lighthouse cautiously, alert for guards or wards. Surprisingly, we encountered neither. The door stood partially open, inviting us in.
"Definitely a trap," Rook muttered, but pushed the door wider anyway.
The interior of the lighthouse was a single circular chamber, its walls lined with the same symbols we'd seen on the altar. A spiral staircase wound upward toward the light mechanism at the top. But what caught my attention was the center of the room.
There, suspended in a sphere of crackling energy, was Horrace.
His tentacles pressed against the inside of the barrier, his twelve eyes blinking frantically when he spotted me.
He made a series of desperate musical notes that were muffled by his prison.
Milo's skeltons were holding onto him looking confused and panicked.
"Horrace!" I rushed forward, only to be yanked back by Rook as a bolt of energy scorched the floor where I would have stepped.
"Careful," he growled. "The floor is warded."
Now that I looked more carefully, I could see intricate patterns carved into the stone floor, forming a complex magical circuit that surrounded Horrace's prison.
"Welcome, Chalice-Bearer," a voice echoed from above. "We've been waiting for you."
A figure descended the spiral staircase, hooded and robed in the now-familiar garb of the Harbinger cultists. But unlike the others we'd encountered, this one moved with confident grace, power radiating from every step.
"Release Horrace," my blue markings flared with my anger.
The cultist laughed, the sound echoing unnaturally in the circular chamber.
"Your pet will be returned to you once he has served his purpose.
" The figure reached the bottom of the stairs and pushed back their hood, revealing a woman with sharp features and eyes that glowed with an inner red light. "As will you."
"Who are you?" Fenric's tablet scanning the newcomer.
"I am the Voice of the Harbingers," she spread her arms wide. "The herald of what is to come."
"What have you done to Horrace?" I took a step forward, careful to avoid the warded sections of floor.
"Nothing yet," she smiled, the expression never reaching her glowing eyes. "His inter-dimensional nature makes him the perfect key to unlock the Veil. Just as your prophetic energy makes you the perfect vessel to channel it."
The spiral mark on my side pulsed painfully, as if responding to her words. "You're using me," I realized. "The mark. It's connecting me to whatever ritual you're performing."
"Very good," she nodded approvingly. "The spiral is indeed a conduit, allowing us to draw on your unique energy even at a distance. Every surge strengthens our work."
"What work?" Zane hands already glowed with combat magic. "What are you trying to do?"
The Voice turned her eerie gaze to him. "We are restoring balance. The natural order has been disrupted by wild prophecies and unchecked fate manipulation. The Harbingers seek to reestablish control."
"By tearing open the Veil?" Milo's pale face was determined. "That's not balance. That's destruction."
"Sometimes the old must be destroyed for the new to emerge," her voice serene. "The Veil has grown thin, corrupted by chaotic elements like your friend here." She gestured to Horrace, who trilled angrily in response. "We will tear it down completely and rebuild it stronger, purer."
"With you in control," I finished for her. "That's what this is really about, isn't it? Power."
Something flickered across her face, a momentary crack in her calm mask. "The Harbingers have guided fate for millennia. They are its rightful architects. Your prophecy, this wild, ungoverned thing, threatens everything they've built."
As she spoke, Horrace's prison began to pulse more rapidly, the energy crackling around him intensifying. He made a high, distressed sound that pierced my heart.
"You're hurting him!" I took another step forward, the blue markings on my arm brightening with my rage.
"His discomfort is temporary," the Voice assured me. "Soon, he will fulfill his purpose, as will you."
"I'm not fulfilling anything for you," I snarled, the prophetic energy building within me like a storm. "Let him go. Now."
The Voice smiled again, this time with genuine amusement. "You misunderstand, Chalice-Bearer. You're already fulfilling your role. Every surge of emotion, every flare of prophetic energy, it all feeds the spiral, which feeds our ritual."
Horror dawned as I realized she was right. The markings on my arm were glowing brightly with my anger, and the spiral on my side pulsed in response, drawing on that power.
"Winter," Fenric's voice was low, urgent. "She's baiting you. Control your emotions."
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the rage building inside me. But seeing Horrace trapped, suffering, made it nearly impossible.
"That's it," the Voice encouraged. "Fight it. Resist. The struggle only makes the energy flow stronger."
She was right. The more I tried to suppress my emotions, the more they seemed to feed into the spiral mark. It was a perfect trap, designed to harvest my power whether I embraced my feelings or fought them.
"Enough talk," Rook growled, his features beginning to shift as he called on his wolf. "We're taking Horrace and the skeletons and leaving."
The Voice made a dismissive gesture, and a wave of force slammed into Rook, sending him flying backward into the wall. "The ritual is already in progress. Interference will not be tolerated."
Zane moved next, launching a barrage of fae magic at the woman. She deflected it with contemptuous ease, redirecting the energy into the floor where it was absorbed by the wards.
"Your parlor tricks cannot touch me," she chuckled. "I am channeling the power of the Harbingers themselves."
While she was focused on Zane, Milo had been quietly working a necromantic spell. Ghostly blue energy flowed from his fingertips, seeping into the floor and traveling toward Horrace's prison.
The Voice noticed too late. Milo's magic reached the energy sphere, disrupting its pattern for a crucial moment.
Horrace immediately seized the opportunity, all twelve of his eyes focusing intently on the weakened section.
One of his tentacles punched through, followed quickly by another.
Milo's skeletons pounded on the section trying to help Horrace.
"No!" The Voice cried, her mask finally cracking. "Stop him!"
Cultists poured into the chamber from hidden alcoves, their hands already glowing with combat magic. Rook recovered from his impact with the wall and launched himself at the nearest group, his transformation complete now, claws and fangs tearing through robes and flesh.
Zane engaged another cluster, his fae magic more effective against the lesser cultists than it had been against their leader. Fenric, surprisingly, proved equally formidable, his bureaucratic demeanor giving way to precise, devastating spellwork that dropped cultists where they stood.
I used the chaos to make my way toward Horrace, dodging energy bolts and avoiding the warded sections of floor. His prison was weakening, more tentacles pushing through the barrier, but he couldn't break free entirely.
"I'm coming, buddy," I called to him, the blue markings on my arm pulsing with determination.
The Voice saw me moving toward Horrace and raised her hands, crimson energy gathering between her palms. "You cannot stop what has been set in motion, Chalice-Bearer. The Veil will fall, with or without your cooperation."
She hurled the energy bolt directly at me. I threw up my hands instinctively, the blue markings flaring in defense. The two magics collided with a thunderous crack, sending shockwaves through the lighthouse that cracked the ancient stone walls.
The impact drove me to my knees, my bad knee would be hurting tomorrow, but I refused to fall. Drawing on reserves I didn't know I had, I pushed back against her power, forcing myself back to my feet.
"I won't let you use Horrace," I gritted out, taking another step toward his prison. "I won't let you use me."
The Voice's face contorted with rage. "You have no choice! The spiral binds you to our purpose!"
As if responding to her words, the spiral mark on my side flared with burning pain, tendrils of red energy spreading across my torso. I gasped, nearly losing my focus as the agony threatened to overwhelm me.
"Winter!" Milo shouted, still maintaining his disruption of Horrace's prison. "The spiral and your markings, they're connected! Use one against the other!"
Understanding dawned. If the spiral drew power from my prophetic energy, perhaps I could reverse the flow. Instead of fighting it, I could embrace it, channel it.