Chương 25: 24 The Collectibles

The shackles sprang open, falling from my wrists. I leaped back, stretching out my hand and reaching for my inventory with my mind. The Auditor threw his hand forward. <<Inventory locked>> The notice flashed in my vision, and I flinched back. Samirah sprang away, bolting and calling for the guards. An arc of flame, like a scimitar, flashed in the Sultan's hand.

"Move!" I cried as I bolted, angling for a basalt pillar. The Auditor slashed at the air. White light flickered from his fingertips, trailing green flames. A hand seized my collar, and Bianca jerked me down. White system light buzzed overhead like a radiant scythe, green flames flash-burning the back of my neck. My head snapped up. I tracked the light as it carved a glowing groove into pillars, walls, and braziers. Bianca hauled my wrist, and I scrambled up.

The Auditor gathered power in his hands, then stepped, palms thrusting forward. I dove behind the pillar, and another scythe of radiant light carved stones free behind me, chips of heated rock biting at my legs and back. I hit the ground hard, my breath ripping from me in ragged gasps.

"Inventory's not working!" Bianca cried.

"Hacker!" I shouted back. I opened my terminal and risked a peek around the corner. <<Name: Brand Firvald>> <<Race: Cind-Primord>> <<Class: Auditor>> <<Rank: Bloodwake Exploit>> <<Lvl: Mage-10; User-8; Martial-7>> <<Total: 25>> The Queen gathered her skirts and fled, shrieking for the guards. The ground rumbled as the Sultan stormed toward our hiding place.

<<Name: Azhar Al-Harraq>> <<Race: Efreet>> <<Class: None>> <<Rank: Scorched Rock Ash Lord>> <<Lvl: None>> <<Total: Not synced to Oruabora>> <<Equivalent Level: Mage-11; Martial-6; Physic-5>>"Your Majesty!" the Auditor barked.

"They're mine!" I jerked my head back as the Sultan hurled a lava bolt at me. Molten stone splashed off the basalt pillar.

"My home!" the Sultan bellowed.

"Cousins in my home!"

"Both over level twenty!" I hissed.

"Gotta move, go!" Bianca bolted for the throne in the center of the chamber. An alarm bell screeched, echoing through the air and vibrating through the floor. I lunged after her, zigzagging and applying evasive footwork. The Auditor's hands flared, burning with green flames. He pointed, easily tracking my movement, but then the Sultan blocked his view, forcing him to abort the cast. Another molten bolt sped from the Sultan's hands.

I dove and rolled, coming up behind the tall throne as drops of sprayed lava burned into my tunic and calf. I hissed through my teeth, lungs pumping. The Auditor cast his system scythe spell again, and the top half of the towering seat plummeted free. We ducked low, stones and dust showering us.

"My throne!" the Sultan shrieked.

"Get out of here, Azhar," the Auditor snapped back.

"You're in my way!" I searched the room, eyes darting from pillars to braziers to the lift. The flames that ringed the room all flashed blue, sputtering with sudden violence. My inventory lock notice blinked away, timing out. Bianca's gaze snapped to me.

"Inventory's back," she panted, talons elongating from her fingers. Side doors slammed open, and Primord guards poured in, gripping rifles or drawing scimitars. I thrust my hand to the side, and my sword belt blinked into it, sagging under the weight of four pistols, several potions, and my Bracer of Fire Resistance. Altogether, the gear took two of my six inventory slots. My mana counter ticked down. A crate bearing four yellow clay balls dropped at Bianca's feet.

I slammed the bracer onto my forearm, then I threw my belt around my waist, nimble fingers threading leather through the buckle in half a breath. The weight of the gear on my hips comforted me like a mother's hug. Rifles cracked, and something impacted my shoulder. My arm went numb, blood running down my skin, and I dropped low.

"—Probably two more!" the Auditor was shouting at the Sultan on the other side of the pillar.

"They work in parties. Find them. These two are mine!" A cry tore from twenty different throats as guards flanked the throne from both sides. My eyes found the slaves' access as depicted on Velk's map, but three guards blocked the way. I dumped a health potion down my throat.

"The lift!" Bianca called as she reared back, clutching a clay ball. Already, an alchemical fuse sputtered at the end. Her forearms rippled and swelled, and she hurled it. It struck at the feet of a sprinting guard, detonating into a cloud of yellow.

"Move!" I barked. My left arm hung like a dead weight, but my legs still answered. We sprinted for the lift, a yellow cloud filling the back of the chamber. Bianca hurled a second smoke shell at the Sultan and Auditor. The Auditor swiped a hand through the air, a blade of white light slashing the air between us, intercepting it. It detonated prematurely, the wall of chalk rushing back at us. I whipped my cutlass free, barreling at the lift master. The Primord's eyes went wide, and he fled.

The choking cloud swallowed us, and Bianca was already priming her third. Through the smokescreen, the fires on the walls flickered as they seemed to reach for us. The lift appeared abruptly in the pall, and Bianca spilled over the rail. I didn't aim for the lift, but for the mechanism to its side. I slammed into the emergency release, heel first. Cables shrieked, and I snatched the rail as it jerked me off my feet. My teeth clenched as I shot from the smokescreen, counterweights dropping to pass us.

Bianca caught my hand, fighting the heavier gravity as she hauled me onto the shuddering platform. Her third smoke bomb dropped down the shaft, tail of smoke sputtering. My eyes widened as the ceiling rushed at us, like a runaway cart of bricks. Crunch! Then the floor locked in place, smashing into emergency clamps. We didn't stop moving. With bone-jarring motion, my boots left the platform. I screamed, throwing my arms over my head as I crashed into the ceiling.

The world flashed red, then black, then I was falling again. I impacted back down on the lift, and a low groan escaped me. Unable to breathe, I fumbled for another potion. My fingers closed on broken glass instead. Bianca sucked in air, lungs finally finding themselves. A lead bullet expelled from my shoulder, the last of my health potion burning out. My left fingers opened and closed weakly, and a sharp ache replaced the numbness. With a groan of pain, I rolled onto my knees, grasping for my cutlass. Empty.

The blade was gone, lost at some point between getting vomited up the tower and getting punched by the ceiling. I glanced into the yawning column of yellow smoke mournfully. My mother and sister had helped me save for the sword.

"Too high," Bianca groaned.

"Collection room's below us." A sputtering noise echoed back through the saffron haze, and my eyes narrowed. Then he zipped up through the yellow chalk cloud. White blades flared from the soles of his boots like skates. They carved glowing tracks, leaving an afterglow below him. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The Auditor grinned as he zipped up toward us—no more sultan to get in his way, and no guards to muddy his shot.

"Bianca!" The will to fight through the pain found me like an electrical shock. I caught her wrist, hauling her up and dragging her onto the landing platform. The lift detonated behind us, flaming splinters showering. The Auditor shot through the explosion like a bullet. I ducked as he jerked a hand. A system scythe carved through the air where I'd been standing. Bianca recovered, seizing my hair and jerking me through a servant's door.

Hissing in pain, I slammed the door shut, sliding the deadbolt for all the good that would do. Blue torches on the walls flared, then a tongue of flame lashed at Bianca. She yelped, falling back a step as the sentinel torch reset. Another torch spat for me. I dipped a shoulder, allowing the heat to wash past my ear.

"Move!" I bellowed, shoving Bianca past them. The door behind us shuddered, and the deadbolt groaned. The first torch reset and lashed at me before we could round the corner. Even with my two points of fire resistance, that hurt. The door blasted inward behind us, and the Auditor flowed into the corridor. We turned, facing a longer hall with six sentinel torches. Bianca met my eye, her shoulder blades pinching together.

"No brands."

"Straight through, let's go!" We pounded down the hallway, ducking and weaving as tongues of flame flashed at us. Heat washed over us, but aided by momentum, adrenaline, and fire resistance, we made it to the other side only partially cooked. I beat flames from my sleeve. The Auditor appeared behind us, pursuing with smooth, purposeful strides. I stumbled down the spiral staircase, corkscrewing down and practically throwing myself onto the spear of a Vulcan guard at the bottom.

I jerked a pistol from my belt, leveling it between its widening eyes, and pulled the trigger. I'd forgotten how much harder combustion punched here. My hand slammed back, and the Vulcan dropped. I didn't even bother to re-holster the gun; it clattered to the stones as I snatched the fallen spear. Bianca panted behind me as we surged down the hall. Another Vulcan appeared down the cramped corridor, scimitar gleaming. A sentinel torch flashed at me. I ducked under the blue flame and came up, leveling the spear.

"Switch!" Bianca called. The Vulcan struck, and I threw myself back. Bianca caught the blade in a lobster claw that had replaced her hand. I recognized that claw, copied from the mutant Deepling.

"Switch!" I called, and she jerked the blade, making room for me. I drove my shoulder into the Vulcan's chest, knocking him back. I snatched a dagger from a sheath on his sash and planted it into his armpit. The Vulcan let go of his scimitar, falling back with a choked cry.

"Tony!" Bianca tossed the curved blade. I snatched the handle out of the air and dropped the Vulcan with three unempowered windmill chops. Power buzzed behind us, and I whirled as the Auditor slashed his hand through the air. An arc of system light streaked towards me. I parried. Force jarred my arm, and the strike left a glowing notch on the blade.

"Tony! Here!" Bianca took a side door made of reinforced steel. I drew a pistol with my off-hand, weakened fingers barely managing to thumb the hammer. With my shoulder aching and my hand trembling, the bullet sparked harmlessly off the wall. The Auditor flinched, and I threw myself through the doorway after Bianca. She slammed the door, sliding the bolt behind her. My chest heaved, drawing in the scalding air, but bearing it better than before.

The rashes on my arms and the back of my hands were going grey, progressing along their natural mutation. Something clattered behind us, and we whirled. We'd stepped into some sort of dining facility. Twenty or so short Magmotes watched us, frozen on long benches and tables. Silence filled the dining hall. Then they surged, drawing blades and hatchets and crashing toward us like a wave. The door shuddered behind us, and Bianca and I exchanged a glance. Face the Auditor or a horde of minions.

We didn't need to say a word; we lunged to meet them. I activated Empowered Windmill Form. The blade ignited, and I got to reaping. The scimitar arched, doubled back, and scythed again, leaving an afterglow that loosely resembled a windmill blade as I cut through the crowd. No time to think or plan, training moved me. Empowered by the system, I hewed through the minor elementals. One screamed as she dove at me from the table, meat fork rearing back.

I twisted, blade whipping around, and sent her tumbling in two smoldering pieces. Bianca slammed two of them together before snapping at another with her Deepling claw. <<Dragon's Wrath: Fire Resist+1; Strength+1>> The notice flashed, and the rashes darkened on my arms as I cut my way through the dining hall. <<System Notice: Level Up-Level 7 Access Ourabora to Assign Feat Points>> By the time I'd made it to the other end, three fled, shrieking in terror. My chest heaved, breath hissing out like a growl.

Bianca came to a stop beside me, panting. A new gash marked her shoulder. The door bent around the bolt behind us, and the Auditor grinned through the gap. My hand tightened on the cutlass, and I started forward. With Empowered Windmill Form active, this was my chance. Bianca caught my wrist.

"Tony, no!" The touch and the voice cut through a building haze in my mind. The door strained, squealing as another steel corner peeled back.

"Let's go!" I nodded, head clearing, and we turned, plunging through what appeared to be a kitchen. Magmotes scattered like roaches as we pushed to the back and found another stairway. We hurried down switchback stairs. My body protested every movement, burns and bruises stinging.

"Fifty-one," Bianca counted as our sandals slapped against the stone. The alarm bell continued to ring throughout the tower. We hit another floor.

"Fifty," she said.

"One more." Above us, something crashed, and we hurled ourselves down, four steps at a time.

"Forty-nine!" Bianca called, jerking a door open. Three figures pivoted toward us and cringed away. My eyes locked onto one. Blue and green scales mottled along his Draconic snout. A Drake-kin. My hand tightened on my scimitar, my mind diving back to that night. My mother's cries echoed through time as she fell at his feet, demanding to know what he'd done with my father.

"You!" Bianca barked.

"You're the collectibles?" I shook my head, banishing the memory. This Drake-kin wasn't Puppetmaster. He wore the same slave tunic as we did. A Feykin with hot orange skin stepped forward.

"Don't hurt us," he said, hands raising.

"We're the Sultans' prized servants." Behind him, a Terra-Primord shrank behind a couch, her pink hair hinting at mixed Cind-Primord heritage.

"Trophy room!" Bianca barked, Deepling claw snapping threateningly.

"Now!" The Feykin shook his head.

"The door's sealed. Without a brand, you'll set off a trap."

"Good thing you have the brand then," Bianca said. Her pincer clamped around his thin bicep. The Feykin's face constricted in pain.

"Lead the way." The Drake-kin stepped protectively beside the Terra-Primord woman. Boots thundered in the hall outside us.

"Scream, and I'll take the arm off," Bianca promised. My eyes were drawn back to the Drake-kin, and I shook my head. I had to stay present. Outside, the footfalls of guards faded as they rushed past.

"Alright," Bianca said.

"Let's move." The Feykin pointed to a back door.

"That way." I drew another pistol and thumbed the hammer.

"You two as well." I jerked my head. No way I was going to let them call the guards the moment we left. The Drake-kin and Primord fell into step behind Bianca, and I brought up the rear. Where was the Auditor? Had we lost him? We stepped into a hall, and I brought up my terminal, selecting my map. The system reconciled, and two dots appeared, marking Bianca's and my positions.

"Trap left," I said, studying the mark on the map.

"Pressure plate." The Feykin flinched.

"How'd you know?"

"Don't worry about it." Sentinel torches sputtered on the wall, and Bianca ducked behind the Feykin. The torch flickered, confused, marking the intruder but not wanting to harm a properly marked resident. I grabbed the Drake-kin's shoulder, using his body to shield me from the torch's view. The Drake-kin turned, murmuring something to me in Drakish.

"I'm not one of you," I hissed.

"I don't know your language." The Drake-kin frowned, puzzled.

"How is it that slaves have access to the collection room?" Bianca asked as she shifted behind her hostage, easing past another torch.

"It feels like a serious security oversight."

"What do you mean?" the Feykin asked, confused.

"You don't give the janitor the keys to the vault," she said.

"Why do you get to go in?"

"We live there," the Primord girl said. My step faltered. Collectibles. These people, these living beings, were exactly the same as a piece of art, or a shiny jewel in the eyes of the Sultan—objects. Why should he separate living collectibles from treasure? Something shuffled behind me. I twisted. The Auditor's eyes locked on me from the back of the hall, irritation creasing the corners of his eyes.

"Bianca!" I called.

"Go!" She shoved her prisoner toward the door at the end of the hall, and I pushed past the Drake-kin and Primord. They instantly fell flat, cowering and covering their heads. I fired my pistol. A green flame flashed a few feet before the Exploit, disintegrating the bullet. I whirled and sprinted. Two sentinel torches tried their luck with me, but I slid under the jets of flame. Bianca pushed her hostage against the door.

"Open!" she barked. He tugged the latch. The door swung inward, and she flowed in. I dove after them, slamming the door shut behind me. I spun, taking in the trophy room. Chests, treasures, art, and finery hung or lay on pedestals. A dozen beds on slightly elevated platforms ringed the gallery. A pair of slaves shrieked as they fell back. Bianca shoved her hostage aside, lunging for a pedestal elevated above the others. She snagged the lamp from its place, banishing it to her inventory.

I grabbed a random chest and did the same. Then my eyes locked on the bundle of carpets rolled up near the window. My eyes locked onto that window, and my gut dropped. Our exit. A freefall. A roar from each of the room's corners growled to life as four armored constructs lurched awake, their eyes igniting with furnace fire. They surged off their platforms, each closing the distance.

"Let's go!" Bianca called, lunging for the rolled carpets. I started after her, dropping my scimitar and snatching a sheathed golden one off a pedestal. I grabbed a silver pitcher next, simply snatching the closest loot. Steel joints groaned as the Golems rushed us, each raising a broadsword. Velk had insisted they'd be slow. He was wrong. Before I could cry out, a noise infinitely more terrifying than the death engines of elemental rage sounded behind me—the click of a latch.

I shot a glance over my shoulder as I sprinted for the window. The door swung open. The Primord girl pulled it wide for the Auditor.

"Thank you, dear," he said sweetly, then his glare found me. A Golem lunged, intercepting me. Its blade blurred, and I rolled, the edge cutting air inches from my throat. Bianca unfurled a carpet, stepping onto the ledge. I gasped, staggering in her direction. The Auditor's fingers curled—and every carpet in the room burst into flames. Bianca cried out, her hands burning in a flash. Throwing herself back, she almost tripped out of the flight window. I yelped as our escape vehicle blazed with sudden heat.

A steaming Golem snatched at me, its searing gauntlet snagging my tunic. I jerked forward, ripping the garment from shoulder to hip as I tore away. The Auditor flowed in, the Golems tightening their line and pressing us to the window. I stepped onto the ledge and glanced out. Big mistake. Figures in the city swarmed, smaller than ants. Vertigo struck like a vortex. Wind ripped at my ragged tunic. I turned to face the armored Primordials and the Exploit. I gripped the handle of the golden scimitar.

"Well, cousins," the Auditor grinned, hands clasped behind him.

"Are you prepared to submit for questioning?" Bianca grabbed me tight, her fingers restored to their original shape.

"I'm sorry, Tony," she said. Then she ripped us both out into the open air. <<Time to Seal Collapse: 04: 02: 01: 06: 05: 02>>