Chapter 320 - Foxie

A heavy hum vibrated across the air in the dark candle-lit room. The aura of a divinity rose out of the blood-soaked runes, dark and terrible.

This wasn’t the full conscious presence of a god, but it was a machination fed by His power.

A feeling of elation coursed through the Head of Staff’s veins. She finished the jagged slice across Firuzeh’s abdomen with a zealous flair, holding the bloodied silver blade high in the air, pronouncing fervently in ancient Fortus,

“Lord Nephel!

God of Machinery and Bestowment!

Your devoted servant offers you this sacrifice of blood!

Drink upon this vessel’s soul to Your satisfaction!”

Her shrill laughter filled the air as she hold aloft the complex brass shell with its whirring machinery. The humming in the air deepened, pulsing in tune with the heartbeat mechanism in the shell.

The heartbeat drilled into Firuzeh’s body, each pulse that coursed through her pulled at her spirit. The warmth in her body was drawn out, turning into a silvery wispy smoke that seeped out of the gaping wound in her stomach.

The tension in her soul grew tighter and tighter as she resisted the ritual’s pull, when she suddenly felt a snap— A thick silver light flew out of her into the brass shell.

The silver dagger clattered against the floor as the Head of Staff dropped it. She held the brass shell aloft with both hands, cackling in delight as her blackened eyes gazed passionately at its rapidly spinning, shimmering gems. A rainbow of sparkling hues scattered across the stone walls, the most resplendent sacrifice she had observed yet.

The soul of this sacrifice was stronger than she’d expected. The god of machinery would certainly be pleased and reward her with even greater boons!

She was so enraptured by the ritual’s success that she didn’t even notice as the silver dagger plunged into her neck. The crazed smile was plastered on her face as she fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

Firuzeh stood above her, clutching the grisly wound in her stomach with one hand, nearly falling over herself out of pain.

Flee, now! The voice in her head commanded. Help is on the way!

Barely conscious, Firuzeh obeyed. She left the gasping, gurgling cultist behind as she staggered to the door. She stumbled into a cabinet full of jars and candles that shattered on the floor and set ablaze.

The fire caught, spreading rapidly as it consumed the dusty tapestries and wooden shelves around the edge of the room. Firuzeh stumbled through the door with the light of the flames dancing behind her, only making it a few steps before she lost her balance and fell to her hands and knees.

Her long hair framed her lowered head, dark and wet with blood. Her vision swam in circles. Her whole body was chilled to the bone and she felt terribly weak, yet she knew she couldn’t rest.

Focus, Firuzeh. Get up.

She wasn’t sure if the voice was her own or another’s.

A glimmering line came into view below her. A deep groove in the stone that lead out from the room she had just escaped from, filled with blood. Her blood.

She raised her head, following the line as it extended into the chamber that she was now in, a circular room whose floor was filled with deeply engraved runes. The room was fed from multiple rooms, just like hers, the grooves all filled with blood, draining down to the center of this central chamber.

Out of the periphery of her vision she saw a dark, chaotic mass of metal. She nearly raised her eyes when the voice spoke harshly.

Don’t look! Keep your eyes down!

In her confusion Firuzeh thought to herself that Rados’ voice sounded strange. She pushed herself to her feet, stumbling a few more steps before falling against the wall. She used it as a support, just barely able to remain standing.

Good, keep going. You’re almost there.

“You’re supris— surprisingly supportive.” Firuzeh mumbled with a weak grin. Rados had never uttered a word of encouragement in the decades he had lived within her, “I must really be near death— this time…“

Down that hall. Through the door. Help is right outside.

“I’m going, I’m going—“ Firuzeh coughed, though the world was a haze to her. She lost all semblance of distance and her surroundings as the numbness filled her body, “I don’t see why you care— even if I die you have other bodies—“

Her legs gave out and she slumped to the ground, unable to continue.

“Can’t—“ She whispered with a chuckle, unable to finish her sentence. She couldn’t go on. The world was darkening around her.

You did good, Firuzeh. The voice said. Hang in there.

Her brows knit together as she finally recognized the presence that was speaking to her. It wasn’t Rados, this presence was calm and gentle.

“The White Maiden…? What are you doing here…?”

~

The soft sounds of paws against stone were barely audible in the tomb-like silence of the stone halls below the garden. Char Char had to stop moving and even stop breathing to listen for them.

The fox stayed ahead of her just out of sight as she chased it into the dark depths. A small flame burned brightly in the palm of her hand, the minor power over flames was extremely useful in the pitch black darkness and she was able to maintain it nearly effortlessly.

The corridors twisted and turned, not following normal architectural patterns. While chasing after the fox in the darkness Char Char wasn’t able to get a sense of the layout, but if she had time she would have noticed that it was a continuation of the maze-like pattern of the garden above.

He’s definitely leading me somewhere. Char Char thought to herself, noticing that the fox always stayed at the edge of her senses. She wondered how the fox was navigating in the darkness. Foxes probably could see in low light, but not in complete darkness, right?

A sense of purpose gripped Char Char as she felt more and more like she had made the correct choice to leave Corbin behind. Whatever was going on in this place, and for better or worse she was now definitely in the thick of it. This was infinitely better than wandering around the complex with Corbin and Master Reza.

Well, at least she hoped it was.

I trust you, foxie. Take me to where I need to go…

~

At this time Corbin and Master Reza were wandering around the complex.

Char Char had taken off, nowhere to be seen. His first instinct had been to chase her, and even had made it all the way to the garden gate before Master Reza had stopped him. After a brief discussion they decided to take the shortcut to the servant’s quarters and try to intercept Char Char, rather than chase her through the maze of the garden.

Corbin wasn’t particularly convinced by the argument but found himself following Master Reza’s lead.

After running across a few invisible walls, they eventually found themselves in the complex, trying to find a clear way to the other side of the estate.

Just as Char Char had said, the entire complex was devoid of people.

“I don’t like it.” Corbin muttered to himself, “We should go back to the garden.”

“The northern gate is around the corner, then it’s a straight line to the stairs down to the quarters.” Master Reza said, “Let’s check it first. If we can’t get through we can turn around.”

Master Reza had regained his confident posture as they walked, taking control in the way he was used to as the head of the household. The wound in his arm clearly bothered him, but he had the strength of will to ignore it as they focused on solving their situation.

“Alright.” Corbin nodded at Master Reza’s logical plan of action, though his lips still were pressed into a dissatisfied frown.

As they rounded the corner Master Reza paused, a thought coming to his mind. He pointed across the grassy inner courtyard to a door at the other side of the square, “My father’s study— it’s right there.”

“You want to check if he’s here?” Corbin asked.

“It would put my mind at ease.” Master Reza nodded, leading the way when Corbin didn’t object.

The middle aged man walked quickly, with a determination that Corbin found somewhat strange. His thoughts nagged him, as they had been during the whole time they were exploring the complex.

As they reached the corner of the hall Corbin felt a tug on his spiritual intuition. He reached out and grabbed Master Reza by his good arm. “Wait. Something is wrong in your father’s study.”

Master Reza paused, but didn’t seem to be surprised. In a low voice he said, “I know.”

Corbin was only partially surprised as Master Reza turned to face him with a serious look.

The tycoon bowed his head in apology, “Sorry, my friend. I lied earlier when I said I wasn’t completely aware of what was going on.

“In truth, I knew a little about the mystical arrangements of this manor— though in honesty I didn’t believe them to be true until today.” Master Reza frowned, “My father— he always spoke of the ‘magic’ in this house, and said his own grandfather had taught him the ‘secret words’ that could activate the defenses.

“Of course, I thought he was simply going off on his fantastical delusions. He’s always been like that. You see how strict he is with the servants about obeying the old traditions— Not even able to use a blasted door because it would be against the gods. Imagine a lifetime of that nonsense.”

“My father is the only one who knows the rituals to activate all this.” Master Reza gestured around them, “He’s clearly obtained some devilish power and gone mad.”

“I don’t know what’s in that study, but it may be the solution to all of this. If my fears are right, my father may be in there. He may be out of his mind, he may try to stop us.” Master Reza said, “My friend, you are clearly a person of great power and strength. Please lend me your assistance to stop what is happening in my home and put an end to this.”