Chapter 72: The Silent City

Leo walked to the door in the rock. The key was ready in his hand.

Behind them, the miners took slow steps across the snow. Their eyes were blank, and their arms hung at their sides. They moved without a sound.

Valerie held her sword low. "Do we fight them?"

"No," Leo said. "They are miners under a spell. We do not hurt innocent people. Fighting them only wastes our time."

Leo put the key into the lock and turned it. The door clicked open.

"Inside," Leo said.

Valerie walked through the door. Leo stepped in behind her and pulled the door shut. He put the bar across the door to lock it.

On the outside, dull thuds hit the wood as the miners walked into the door, unable to open it. Soon, the sound stopped behind the stone.

Leo waited until his eyes got used to the dark.

"Follow me," Leo said. "Stay close."

The tunnel went straight into the mountain. The ground under their boots was dry. Smugglers had dug this path to enter the city without using the gate.

"Watch your step," Leo said. "Look for traps."

They walked up the tunnel. Leo kept his hand near the wall, feeling for wires or stones. There were no traps.

After five minutes, they reached the end of the tunnel.

A small door was set into the rock wall.

Leo pushed the door open. It swung forward without a sound.

He stepped out into an alley between two buildings. Valerie followed him onto the snow, holding her sword ready.

The city around them was completely silent. Snow covered the roofs and roads. Lamps burned on posts, giving off light, but no smoke rose from any chimney. The shops were shut, and the windows were dark.

Valerie looked around the corner of the building. Her eyes widened. "Leo, look."

Leo stepped up beside her.

People walked down the main road in long lines through the snow. Men and women moved with stiff, slow steps, looking straight ahead. Just like the miners outside, their eyes were blank. None of them spoke. None of them stopped. They moved like puppets pulled by strings.

"They are all under the spell," Valerie said softly, her grip tightening on her sword.

Leo watched the lines of people. "Look between the rows."

Walking beside them were figures in long robes.

The robes were dark and reached down to the snow. Hoods hid their faces in shadow. Each robed person carried a bowl in one hand and a knife in the other, watching the lines like shepherds watching sheep.

"Those robes," Valerie whispered. "They look like cultists."

"They are marking the doors," Leo said.

One cultist dipped his knife into a bowl, cut a mark into a door, and poured red liquid into the wood.

Leo stepped out of the alley to get a closer look. He moved along the side of a cart, keeping his boots quiet in the snow. Valerie followed a step behind him.

Suddenly, the wind shifted.

A cultist at the corner stopped walking. His hood fell back, showing a pale face with red lines cut into his cheeks. His eyes burned with red light.

The cultist looked straight at the cart, locking his eyes onto Leo.

"Intruders!" the cultist screamed, his voice harsh like scraping metal. "Enemies at the cart!"

Three more cultists turned, dropped their gear, and pulled curved daggers from their sleeves. The controlled townspeople kept walking straight ahead, ignoring the shouts.

"Kill them!" the first cultist yelled. "Protect the lines!"

All four cultists charged across the snow toward Leo and Valerie.

The first cultist raised his bowl, spat into it, and unleashed a burst of red fire toward Leo.

"Behind me!" Valerie yelled.

Valerie stepped in front, planted her boots, and swung her greatsword upward.

The blade met the blast in mid-air. Sparks hissed across the street as the fire split around her steel, splashing into the snow on either side of her. Valerie did not move an inch.

Before the cultist could react, Valerie lunged. Her greatsword swept in a flat cut, smashing through the bowl and striking the cultist’s chest. The man flew back into the wall of a house and dropped motionless into the snow.

The second cultist jumped at Valerie’s neck with his dagger.

Valerie blocked the dagger with her gauntlet, turned, and drove her elbow straight into his face. Bone cracked, and the man crashed into the snow with a broken nose.

The other two cultists rushed Leo.

The third cultist threw red powder from a pouch to blind Leo.

Leo raised his hand. Black light flared from his palm, pulling the red powder in and eating the spell before it could reach his eyes. The powder turned into ash and fell into the snow.

Without slowing down, Leo stepped under the cultist’s blade. He caught the man’s wrist, twisted it until the bone snapped, and drove his knee hard into the cultist’s back. The man dropped to the ground and did not get back up.

The fourth cultist turned to run down the street. He reached to his belt, pulling out a horn to sound the alarm across the city.

Leo reached into his coat, drew his throwing dagger, and flicked his wrist.

The blade flew through the cold air. Before the man could bring the horn to his mouth, the steel struck him square between the shoulder blades. The cultist choked, dropped the horn into the slush, and fell face-first into the snow.

The street went quiet again.

A few paces away, the mind-controlled townspeople kept walking in their line, stepping past the bodies without looking.

Valerie walked over to the cultist with the broken nose, resting the tip of her sword against his throat. "Do not move."

Leo retrieved his dagger from the runner, wiped the blade on the robe, and walked back.

Beside the fallen cultist, the bowl had spilled into the snow.

The red liquid did not soak into the dirt. It flowed along a deep cut carved into the stone of the street.

Leo knelt down and kicked the snow aside.

Under the snow, the stone had runes carved deep into the rock. The red liquid filled the cuts like blood in a vein.

Leo knelt and touched the stone beside the cut. The red liquid was not cold like the snow. It was warm, humming with dark power drawn from the ground.

Leo looked up at the lines of townspeople walking past.

Their breath came out in thin puffs of mist. As their boots stepped across the red cuts in the road, faint threads of light rose from their feet, flowing straight into the stone channels.

"Look at their feet," Leo said quietly. "The lines are already drinking their strength."

Valerie watched the walking citizens, her jaw tight. "They are being drained while they walk."

Leo looked up at the nearest house. The mark cut into the door ran down the wood and connected straight into the line in the street.

Valerie looked down the road, her eyes widening. "Every house has the same mark. The lines run through every street, heading up the hill toward the castle."

"A formation," Leo said, his voice cold and steady. "The entire city is carved into one giant ritual circle."

Across the city, the red lines in the snow glowed with faint heat.

Leo pressed his boot against the cultist’s broken wrist.

"The lines in the street," Leo said, his voice cold and steady. "What are they for?"

The cultist cried out in pain as the broken bone shifted. Blood leaked from his mouth, but a wild smile crossed his face.

"You cannot stop it," the cultist rasped, spitting red onto the snow. "The lines connect every soul in this city... five thousand lives..."

"To feed what?" Valerie demanded, resting the tip of her sword against his neck.

"The Calamity beneath the mountain," the cultist choked out, laughing weakly. "The beast sleeping under the rock... High Priest Varis is at the castle tower. At the third bell, the whole city burns to awaken it!"

His breath rattled in his chest, and his body went limp against the snow, his eyes turning blank.

Valerie looked up toward the castle on the hill, her grip tightening on her sword.

"The third bell," Valerie said, her voice tight with urgency. "We have to stop that ritual."

Leo looked up at the highest tower. From the top window, a deep red glow pulsed like a beating heart. The red lines in the streets were feeding power straight up toward that tower.

Suddenly, a loud sound echoed through the valley.

DONG.

The first bell tolled from the castle tower.

The deep chime vibrated through the stone under their boots. Across the city, the red lines in the roads flared with brighter light, pulsing faster through the snow.

The countdown had begun.

Leo slid his dagger into his sheath.

"Two bells left," Leo said.

Valerie gripped her sword with both hands. "Then we move now."

Leo looked up toward the glowing tower on the hill.

"We kill the priest," Leo said. "And we stop the ritual before the third bell strikes."