Killian leapt to his feet, and saw the feverish yellow eyes of the templar look first one way, then another. There was something in the essence taint that enabled them to sense him. It seemed he still couldn’t be seen though.
He threw a fist at the templar. The man ducked to the side, his movement a blur. The sword came at Killian’s chest. Killian punched into the man’s sword arm. Time slowed. He watched, sickened, as his fist went straight through the templar’s skin, like a burning rod. Blood spurted out. The sword fell out of useless fingers.
The man screamed with the pain of it. Killian looked at his fist. He heard the sound of running footsteps. He turned. The room was filling with warriors in white uniform.
Killian took out the first cube. He activated it, and then took a slow breath. The templars crowded in, heading straight for him. He counted to five. He threw the glowing cube into the intake of the harvesting plant, then leapt between the swords of two of the running soldiers. The whistling of their swords followed him. Running at full speed now, he leapt again.
His body flew through the air. The vaulted airway that ran the height of the mountain sucked him in.
The harvester blew. The air was forced out of the chamber, and then blew back with the force of a hurricane, heat like a furnace. Killian’s body was tossed around like a feather in a storm. He grabbed hold of a bar, his eyes shut tight. His body was slammed again and again into the wall of the vertical chamber. He didn’t know where the strength to hold on came from — it must have been the protection of the runes. He opened his eyes.
High above him, easily hundreds of paces, smoke poured out in a billowing cloud. He was hanging from a rail. Below him was nothing but the depth of the mountain. He held up a hand, looking through it to make sure he was still invisible. Then he took a deep breath.
It was time to find the extraction system.
Killian pulled himself up onto the ledge, and rolled onto the cold stone floor. He stood up and tried to get his bearings. He was somewhere in the living quarters of the upper echelon of priests — which meant that the extraction system was on a level below him. He could hear shouts and cries. A priest suddenly ran past him, his cassock billowing around his bare ankles.
One direction was as good as another. Killian turned and began to run.
He passed innumerable priests. It was strange to see them away from their temples and sermons. Finding a staircase cut into the mountain, he began to descend, but stopped. A templar was ahead of him, frowning, his hand on his sword.
Killian charged into the man, knocking him from his feet. Behind him, he heard the whisper of steel being drawn, and turned and hit out with the flat of his hand, catching the man on the temple. The templar grunted in pain, a red mark appearing on his skin. He turned yellowed eyes in all directions, searching for his adversary. As Killian watched, the red mark began to dissipate.
To his shock, the mark subsided. The man’s skin healed in front of his eyes.
The templar suddenly thrust out with his sword, faster than Killian could react. The sword sparked against Killian’s side, but the pain was minimal, like a pinprick. Killian swung again into the templar’s backswing and caught the man’s head on the side with the full force of his fist. The templar’s head exploded in a wave of bone and gore. The body crumpled to the ground.
Killian’s skin was tingling. He felt strange, like he was in another man’s body. He reached the bottom of the stairway and looked out.
Murals decorated the walls, depicting the scenes of the Evermen Cycles. Incense rose from a golden brazier, the smoke curling and twisting. The ceiling was vaulted here, rising from columns that had been cut into the rock of the mountain. Killian walked out.
He could feel the history of the place. He walked past niches cut into the walls; it was like a museum. The first niche contained a strange bracelet, covered with runes. Next was a silver dagger, curved wickedly. He saw a lock of long red hair, tied with a ribbon. A sound came from behind him — templars pouring out of the stairway, swords drawn.
"This way!" one of them said. "I can feel it. Pure evil."
Killian ran to the back of the chamber and found a second set of stairs, carved in intricate patterns. Making out runes on the wall, he knew he was getting closer.
~
THE priest was kneeling at an altar. A stylised depiction of the Lord of the Sun scowled down at him from above. The priest mumbled to himself, the words endless and repetitive.
He started at the sound of breathing from directly behind him.
Killian grabbed him around the neck. "Make a sound and you’re dead. Understand?" The priest nodded, his eyes wide. "Where is the extraction system?"