A Shade of Vampire 37: An Empire of Stones(48)

“What are these abhorrent creatures?” King Memenion cried, jerking backward.

“Your enemies,” the Impartial Ministers replied, staring smugly at the looks of horror and disgust prevalent on the faces before them. “Each of you will battle one of these beasts and emerge victorious to remain in the running for emperor.”

That seems easy enough, I thought, recalling how Hazel and I had demolished them the last time. What had she called them? Ghouls. I might have been tired, and running on depleted energy, but as loathsome as these things were, I didn’t anticipate the task would get the better of me.

“But you must battle them alone, without your sentry powers. Remember this is not a test of your skill set, but a test of your inner qualities.”

What?

How would we manage to combat these creatures without mental power? They didn’t even look as if they were fully solid. I was apparently not the only one enraged at the news—King Thraxus was shouting at one of the ministers, his rage betraying the fear he was trying to obscure from the rest of us.

“I do not see the point of a trial without our powers,” announced Queen Trina. “And clearly I am at a disadvantage, being the only female here.”

I almost laughed out loud at her dishonesty. I had seen Trina fight—in practice only, but she was deadly. As swift as a coiled cobra, she had deadly accurate aim and her viciousness was insurmountable.

“Enough!” One of the Impartial Minister jammed a staff into the ground. “The trial is not up for discussion—you will participate or be taken out of the running. The choice is yours.”

“If we all refuse to take part, there will be nothing that they can do,” King Thraxus countered.

“Thraxus, please,” I replied wearily. “Let us begin this—I want to return to my home. These creatures are not beyond us…I promise you they are not.”

Thraxus eyed me sharply, no doubt wondering how I could say that with such authority. I could see the cogs turning in his head—he was growing suspicious, believing that I had some sort of informant or had been given a heads-up on the trial.

“He is right.” Memenion sighed. “Let us end this. I will take the risk in order to leave this damned place.” He glanced around him, shaking off the unsettling winds and mists, more wary of the weather than the creatures caged in front of us.

“Then we shall begin,” the minister responded, relieved. No one else objected.

A moment later, I felt the sensation of cold fingers reaching inside my skull.

Not again.

I hadn’t realized that the ministers would syphon off our powers—I thought they only meant that we would not be permitted to use them. The power of the ministers was nothing compared to that of the entity, but even so, the syphoning was aggressive and painful. The more they persisted, the more I felt my insides begin to grow cold. The syphoning was also more targeted than I’d ever experienced, like they were specifically ferreting out my powers, finding the pockets of energy that contained my abilities. Anything that might help me in the fight against these grotesque creatures, gone.

I stumbled to my knees, feeling a wave of despair rising up within me. It felt like the Impartial Ministers had scooped out my very soul, leaving me limp and lifeless—purposeless in the dark, clinging mists of the mountain.

The ministers stood back, barricading themselves behind their own mental shield. With a flash, the boundaries that had held the ghouls vanished. It took a moment for the creatures to realize they had been freed. When they did, their eyes flashed with greed and malice, drool seeping from their mouths as they eyed their fleshy meals.

I had less than a moment to decide whether I wanted to live or die.

The bleakness within me leaned toward giving up, allowing the creatures to destroy what little of me there was left. But I thought of Hazel, waiting at the castle for me to return victorious. The ministers had taken everything within me, but they hadn’t taken her.

I unsheathed my sword.

There were five ghouls, and each had begun to approach their chosen royal. Mine moved swiftly, clawed hands outstretched. They all screeched wildly—a blood-curdling sound that reverberated through the valleys and mountain.

I lunged forward with my sword level with the creature’s heart, but it side-stepped quickly, missing my blade. It dashed behind me, shark-like teeth bared in a grimace as it attempted to latch onto my calf. I slashed again with my sword, bringing it down in an arc as I twisted away from the creature. It shot off again, its bony body writhing and twisting in the air as it swung around to attack again. This time I was ready for it, and as it zoomed toward me again, arms outstretched, my sword flew through the air. It sliced neatly through the brittle bone of its wrist, and the clawed hand flew from its owner. Black ichor seeped from the gaping wound, and the ghoul screeched loudly, its jaw descending and exposing more of its razor-sharp teeth. It moved to lunge for me again, but then froze.