I headed for the desk, which was safely behind heavy bars and safety glass. There were Wards and Enchantments everywhere; even I would have had trouble using Magic at the Farm. My signet could have protected me from those effects, but the other signets told her not to (the last First Shadow was a bit of a prick, and nobody was taking any chances).
Pimin stayed long enough to hand me over to the Farm's receptionist and then beat a hasty retreat (no Magician enjoyed being under the Wards of the Farm). I told the young man at the desk where I wanted to go, and he summoned a guard to take me.
The Farm was built deep underground, in a colossal cavern which had no natural entrances or exits, the sides hardened and impossible to dig through. I knew there to be several wings, each dedicated to a particular sort of criminal, and more for non-human prisoners. I couldn't see much of the complex, but it was mostly made of reinforced concrete, with heavy chain-link fences topped with barbed wire separating the various precincts.
My destination was a white-painted building, with a square base, just a few minutes' walk from the entrance building. It was three stories high, fifty metres to a side, with tiny windows, too small to squeeze through. A black psi symbol on the front marked this building out as the Mental Hospital, both informing visitors, and warning them, of what lay within.
My guide handed me over at the front doors to someone in charge, this new fellow dressed in a suit under a white coat. He introduced himself as Doctor Watkins, and took me the rest of the way.
"He's been quieter lately, Sir, more stable," said Watkins. He was tall and thin with dark brown skin and bright blue eyes. He spoke quietly but intelligently, and he projected a calm confidence that was very reassuring.
"Still expressing his desire to eat people?" I asked.
"Not for a while, but don't be fooled, Sir, he's still very dangerous. We don't turn our back on him for any reason. He'll be bound and chained for your interview, but as you requested, you'll be alone."
"Thank you."
Watkins gave me a brief safety lecture and inspected the cake box before leaving me alone while he went in to complete the arrangements for my meeting, it didn't take him long.
The interrogation room was padded, floor, walls and ceiling, the table too, all in a dirty white that smelled faintly of urine, desperation and bleach. The light was dim and unpleasant, the table and chairs bolted to the floor.
He was chained by his feet to the floor and his hands to a loop on the table. His normally golden-blonde hair was lank and dirty, his eyes sunken, surrounded by dark circles. His skin, so healthy when I'd last seen it, was waxy and grey, though he still looked strong, like he could run a marathon if only he could be trusted not to murder the other participants.
He looked at me as I came in, his eyes never leaving my face as the door shut behind me. I pulled my hood down and placed the box on the table in front of him.
"Happy Birthday, Des," I said to my brother.
Palmyra had done a lot to repair the damage Black Magic had done to Desmond's body, but while the various psychics had done what they could with his mind, it wasn't much in the grand scheme of things. They'd carved off some of the raw edges, sanded away some of the insanity, but that was really the best that they could do.
His eyes looked like mine used to, one blue, one brown, though his blue was right, and mine used to be left. His stare seemed to bore into me as he reached for the box and pulled the lid off. He sniffed the cake and closed his eyes, his expression peaceful for a long moment.
"Come to gloat, at last?" he asked, his eyes snapping open to glare at me, his tone gravelly and unpleasant. He put the cake to one side, but didn't throw it away, "Does it feel good to see me like this? It make you happy?"
"Do I look happy to you?" I asked, my voice taking on that nasty tone that made monsters run.
He flinched but didn't take his eyes away from mine.
"No, I suppose not," he said after a moment. He pulled the cake towards him and started eating it slowly, savouring every bite. He had to use his fingers; they wouldn't let me give him the plastic fork I'd brought with me.
"How'd you get in here?" he asked.
"Can't tell you that. Suffice to say, I did, and let's leave it at that."
"Who would I tell?"
"Everyone, you've rather proven that my secrets can't be entrusted to you."
He'd been the one who outed me way back when, in a fit of pique.
"Touché," he said sardonically, "so, why are you here?"
"I missed you today. I wished you were home with me."
"Then maybe you shouldn't have put me in here!" he spat.
I stared him down, "You know very well how you ended up in here. And while I bear some responsibility, it wasn't intentional, and the only way I could have prevented it would have been suicide. Literally."
"That would have worked for me," he said with an evil smile.
"You are here because when you were given a choice between love and hate, you chose the latter, and you included cruelty for good measure. Don't lay this entirely on me."
"Is that what you tell yourself, late at night? That it wasn't your fault?" he asked with a sneer, "That you have no blame in this?"
"What happened to you was not my fault. I was the cause, but it wasn't my fault. My Magic resonated with yours and made you insane, but that was it. I could no more control it than I could breathing."
"How's Jocelyn?" he asked nastily, licking frosting off his fingers. I froze.
Jocelyn had been my girlfriend, the youngest scion of the Faust dynasty, beautiful, smart and sweet. I'd loved her, an adolescent love, but it felt all too real to me at the time. It had allowed me to move on from what I thought was unrequited love for Cathy.
At the time, I was planning to use a bit of Black Magic to sever me from Des, and hopefully prevent him going crackers. Hopkins found out, and persuaded Jocelyn to make me believe that she and Des were cheating on me, thus convincing me that Des was already too far gone, and that using the Spell (which would have hurt me terribly) was no longer worth it.
I know, it was a complicated mess, but the whole story need not concern us here. Suffice to say, not fond of her, not fond of Des, and occasionally still mad at Hopkins about it.
Des smiled at me again, "What? Did I strike a nerve?"
I electrocuted him a little. It took all my Magic to do it, too. It took that much to cast a spell in places like the Farm; pretty much only an Archon could do it.
"No," I said after he'd stopped twitching; I smelt pee and it made me smile, "That's striking a nerve."
I stood and picked up the empty box while he stared at me, an ugly look on his face.
"I'll get you for that," he rasped.
"You wouldn't be the first to try, and I sincerely doubt you'll be the last," I replied.
I walked out and left him there. I knew it was a mistake to go visit him, I knew he wasn't the boy I'd grown up with. But I'd so wanted to see him; I missed him so much. I should have known he'd lash out, and I was ashamed that I'd lashed right back, and nastily, too.
I'd never claimed to be a saint, but I thought I was better than that. Apparently I was wrong.
Chapter 4
The site that would one day become known as the City of Stonebridge had been a place of learning for Magicians thousands of years before there was so much as a mud hut in the area, much less a city. Back then, there was just the river and the forest; a place where ancient Sorcerers imparted terrible secrets to their apprentices in groves dedicated to dark gods. Not the most civilised of times, or places, but Kron told me that their... oh, let's call them 'co-ed rituals' could be rather interesting, if you catch my drift.
The community began as a simple meeting place, where the various Magicians living in the area could gather in safety, to learn, to teach, to talk (and argue!), but this eventually became permanent, with Magicians putting down roots, attracting farmers and other craftsmen as time went on. Eventually, villages would be bui
lt, then towns, growing and merging until they became the city I knew and loved. And always, Magicians were there, teaching, learning, living amongst the Pureborn and eventually governing.
The university itself was about six hundred years old, founded by a group of very crafty Sorcerers who buried a Magical college in amongst a number of more traditional ones. In the days before Magicians came out of hiding, this provided their apprentices not only with a Magical education, but also experience and contact with Pureborn, which helped them prosper (and keep their powers hidden). As word spread, Stonebridge University, and the 'exclusive' colleges grew in fame and popularity (and size!), and soon most, if not all, of the great Magical families were sending their children there.
These days, it was a bit less exclusive. Once Magicians were out in the open, the other great institutions wanted in on the act and started their own Magical schools. Cambridge's, in particular, had a very good reputation, and Oxford's wasn't far behind. But, for me, there could be only one choice. Stonebridge, for all the heartache I'd suffered there, was my home. The Conclave was there, as was Blackhold; I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else.
The university had began as a cluster of purchased buildings Stonebridge's older boroughs, but had long since expanded into the city's more modern areas. The heart of the grounds remained with the most ancient buildings, practically steeped in history, but there were also new and amazing complexes for the sciences, arts and student housing. It was a complicated architectural and logistical hodgepodge, but it was essentially laid out with the various 'Schools' towards the centre, near the older administrative buildings, and the various halls of residence and more exclusive colleges spread out around the periphery, the more prestigious ones to the east (near the old quarter) and the more modern and accessible ones to the west.
Registration was in the Great Hall. The building predated the university, being more than a thousand years old, a gothic masterpiece, with gargoyles, cornices and spiky protrusions. My introductory paperwork told me that it was the centre of the university's administration, as well as the site of the main dining hall, big enough to accommodate a couple of thousand students with room to spare. I noted, to some joy, that the introductory pamphlet said it was just one of a couple of dozen places within the University grounds where one could eat.
The Great Hall also contained the Dean's office, the chancellery, the post office and a variety of smaller spaces for administration and logistics, laid out in a vague cross shape, with offices and reception rooms in each of the four arms, and the hall itself at the centre, and occupying the majority of an enlarged southern arm.
The Hall was packed full of registering students, hundreds of them, the place was abuzz with conversation and the energy of pure anticipation. I was dressed simply, in grey trousers, striped shirt and jumper; I also had a minor Illusion in place concealing my scars and red eyes. I felt that there was no need to scare the villagers too early in the process (that, and my distinguishing features were well known enough that identifying me would be pretty easy for anybody with a bone to pick).
I was at the back of a long line, a satchel in hand containing my paperwork, waiting as it inched slowly forward. The interior of the building was wood-panelled and interesting, covered in carvings, with paintings on the walls, which kept me occupied while I waited.
But that wasn't all that interested me.
Most Magicians could sense Magic around them to a greater or lesser extent. I was particularly sensitive, even compared to the other Archons, which meant that I could detect even the barest whisper of Magic.
And there was quite a lot of it.
As much as a tenth of the crowd were Magicians of some sort, mostly Acolytes (the lowest end of the magical spectrum) but there were all sorts, including one or two Sorcerers (thankfully I'd long since mastered drawing my Magic inward so I couldn't be detected this way).
Everyone seemed excited; many seemed to have made friends already.
That made me sigh softly, I missed my friends very much in that moment. Not as they were at that point, but as they were before everything turned to crap. I didn't even know where a couple of them were, now. Cathy was at Oxford, and so was Bill. I hadn't spoken to Belle in a while, but I knew she was busy.
So, there I was, alone. Bill and Cathy should have been with me.
I was so angry about that. But then, I was angry about a lot of things in those days.
The line took an hour to get where it was going, but I finally got my paperwork and my room assignment along with a timetable, and a very detailed map, from a friendly older lady behind a fold-up desk.
I thanked her and made my way to Naiad Hall, my halls of residence, which was a ten minute walk from the Chemistry School, where I'd be spending a lot of my time. I'd decided that I wanted to explore the whole Magic-Physics-Chemistry relationship when I graduated, so I'd registered for Physical Chemistry. I was also signed up to three advanced Magic classes, which would eat up a lot of time.
Finding the room was easy enough, moving my things in wasn't a problem, either, Magic solved most problems, after all (well, except for the really important ones...).
I made the bed, set up my laptop and put away my clothes and books. The room was small, but comfortable, a single bed on one side and a desk built into the wall opposite, next to a cupboard. There was even a small bathroom containing a shower, sink and loo. It was on the third floor of a relatively new building, on a corridor with ten more just like it along with a communal kitchen.
It didn't take me long to sort myself out, and I was left staring out the window into a small park across from the School of Magic, which was a large, wide building resembling a palace. I could see protective Wards and Enchantments all over the thing, designed to keep students from breaking the place while learning to control themselves.
It was the Sunday of the second week in September, classes were supposed to start the next day. My first, the general orientation for Advanced Magicians, was at ten in the morning in a lecture hall across the way from me.
I frowned as I stared. I thought it would feel different, being at university. I'd been expecting purposefulness, a sense of... I don't know, belonging? But I just felt empty.
And alone.
That hadn't been a problem before I'd been with Cathy. I'd always been quite content to be by myself. I just needed to get back to that equilibrium, then I'd be fine... probably. It was just after midday. There were supposed to be Freshman mixers later on, but I had almost no interest in anything of the sort. I hadn't been great with strangers before they started trying to kill me, and besides, drinking was out of the question (mind-altering chemicals + Magician = colossal cock-up).
I sighed (again), put my jumper back on and decided to go out for a walk, maybe get the lay of the land a little. I stepped out into the corridor, which had a couple of people wondering around, girls and boys. I walked carefully around them and towards the door leading to the stairs and the lift... which slammed open and hit me square in the face, cutting my lip and making me swear.
"Oh, God, sorry!" said a young and very earnest voice. I turned to see a boy, about my age, I thought. He was tall and handsome, with a straight back, elegantly styled blonde hair and blue eyes. He wore an Armani suit complete with platinum tie clip and signet ring, and carried a pair of crocodile-leather suitcases. Already the women on the corridor were eyeing him up like my dog looked at an unattended T-bone. Lucky bastard.
"Don't worry about it," I muttered, pulling my hand away from my cut lip. Not much damage, ten minutes work with a Healing Spell and it would be back to normal.
"No, I should have watched where I was going," he said. His accent was very upper class, and I recognised the crest on his signet ring as belonging to a very old house I couldn't quite place, one of the various Hannover offshoots, I thought; I didn't really care enough to search my memory.
"It's alright, my fault I'm sure," I said, sliding past him while I could, the girls were already m
oving in. He tried to protest, quite a nice gesture actually. He seemed pleasant enough, but my face hurt, and it didn't combine well with my mood, I could feel my Shadows close at hand, ready to swat something.
So I made my way down and into the square. It was mostly grass, bordered and crossed by paving slabs, trees offering shade, and dark wooden benches in strategic positions. I made my way over to one and sat with my map in hand, getting orientated.
The University was simply huge, I could walk the rest of the day and not see a fraction of the thing, so I settled for a walk to the buildings were I'd have my classes, just so I'd know how long it took, and where they were (I got lost at the drop of a hat, it was ridiculous enough that I did my best to minimise it as much as possible). That used up about an hour, but only because I made it drag on; I wasn't in a rush. I stopped at a relatively quiet sandwich place, which made your meal to order from ingredients in a counter. I made a note of that; their meat feast was a thing of beauty...
I explored the Student Union, which was already half full of students getting plastered, the shopping district, the laundrette, the six book shops, the theatre (which doubled as a cinema), the auditorium, the Magic shop, which too restrictive to be really useful, but at least I knew where it was.
With nothing else to do, I went to the movies. I already knew quite a bit of Stonebridge, though my knowledge was mostly confined to the Old Quarter and the shopping districts. When I came out of some piece of B-Movie nonsense that was a waste of time I should have spent reading, it was dark and I was in an even worse mood. I walked back towards Naiad Hall and picked up another sandwich on my way. It was after six, and the sun had already set. I'd wasted my whole day, but I was too proud (and stupid) to go home and face questions.
Heart's Darkness Page 6
