Heart's Darkness

by H D A Roberts

  With the immediate threat over, I used my Mage Sight to look for Kandi's father. I found him in an office five floors up (the top floor, actually), and there were a lot of armed men between him and us. If even a fraction had Spelleaters, then we could quickly get bogged down in what was practically a maze of stairwells, corridors and offices, which would put Tethys and Kandi in danger.

  That meant we couldn't use the traditional route, and I couldn't risk taking two people through the Shadow Realm (it simply wasn't good for the sanity of non-Shadowborn).

  I took a good look around, shifting my Mage Sight so that I could see into the walls, taking in the construction; specifically, the reinforcement points. I smiled. The place was very well built, with the load spread carefully and evenly. A few holes shouldn't cause too much of a problem (or the place to collapse), as long as I didn't go through any of the major load-bearing sections. I called my Shadows (now no longer burning), and slammed a whole bunch of coils into the ceiling. Kandi squeaked as concrete shattered and chunks hit the floor. A hole quickly appeared, and my Shadows poured through it to slam into the ceiling above. I sent them up further and further, tearing through all five floors.

  I beckoned the ladies closer and wrapped all of us in Shadows, pulling us up, smashing the holes wider as we went.

  "You don't really do subtle, do you, Love?" Tethys said with a giggle as I gently lowered us onto the correct floor.

  "Not in the right mood for subtle," I said with a small smile, leading the way forwards again.

  Three more men and women came at me, and they fell as well. I didn't even bother disarming those. Even more of the mercenaries were coming up stairs and in lifts as news of what I'd done spread, but they'd be too late.

  I got us close to the CEO's office and turned to seal off the approaching corridors with solid shadows, enough energy making them physical objects that wouldn't be affected by Spelleaters. It cost me a lot of power, but the barriers would allow us to have our... conversation with Mr Thornsby uninterrupted.

  I smashed his office door off its hinges and made sure that it smacked heavily into the guards in the room. The splintered wood dropped three of the four, and the last one opened fire into the mass of Shadows beyond the door, screaming horribly in his terror. He ran out of bullets and I opened my Shadows to cast Sensory Overload again in a tight beam, sending him to the ground.

  I walked into the office to see Thornsby sitting in a huge, red, leather chair, behind an equally colossal desk. His expression was smug and very confident. His office was big, even for someone in his position, with an impressive view; his furniture old and very expensive. There were shelves and display cabinets full of weapons, some of which were gold-plated, all of which I was fairly certain were illegal in the UK (much like just about everything else his people were carrying). The carpet was thick and rich, the walls painted in neutral tones, it was actually quite elegant (tacky golden weapons aside).

  "Lord Graves, how good to see you again," Thornsby said evenly, like he hadn't a care in the world.

  "You seem remarkably calm for a man in a room with a very angry Sorcerer," I said, moving forward slowly.

  "You won't hurt me, Carol would never forgive you," he said, grinning evilly.

  "Very bad bet, old boy," I said, gesturing at him.

  Shadows surged and he was yanked from behind his desk, wrapped neck to toe in darkness, holding him fast.

  "You can't do this! I'm a public figure, the SCA will skin you alive!" he shouted, his voice trembling now.

  Tethys snorted.

  "Mister Thornsby," I said softly, ignoring his threat, the tone of my voice making him go very pale, "I've been giving some thought as to what would happen when we met."

  I strolled casually towards him, taking my time, "And you're quite right, I don't want to leave Carol with any particularly dark memories of you."

  His winning smile came back, though it was a little nervous, this time.

  "That's why I have something far worse planned than simply killing you."

  I touched his forehead.

  I was at work for half an hour, setting blocks in place, implanting commands and wards, altering his physiology. When I was done, and the last piece fell into place, Thornsby opened his eyes and simply burst into tears, wailing fit to wake the dead.

  I released my Shadows and he fell to the floor, curling up into a ball. I turned to the women.

  "We can go now," I said cheerfully, moving towards a nearby window.

  "What did you do?" Kandi asked, looking confused, "He's just... crying."

  "Do you really want to know? It's not very nice. I think it might change the way you look at me," I said.

  Kandi smiled warmly at me, cupping my cheek with one delicate hand.

  "Nothing could do that, Matty. Tell me," she said.

  "Did you know he had a dicky ticker?" I asked.

  She shook her head.

  "Well, he did, bad, too. And if that hadn't gotten him, the rampant liver cirrhosis would have. I fixed them both. He'll live another forty, fifty years."

  "And?" Kandi asked, "That can't be it, surely?"

  "Wait for it," Tethys said huskily, biting her lip.

  "Well, I figured since I'd given him so much, it was only fair to exact a little payment, so I took something in return. Nothing much, I'm sure he won't miss it..."

  "Matty, we have talked about gloating," Tethys scolded, smirking and ruining the effect.

  "You said it was sexy!"

  "It's less so when you're standing in an enemy stronghold with Mercenaries trying to break in and do unspeakable things to your hindquarters!" she countered.

  "Fine, fine," I harrumphed, "I took his happiness. He'll never know joy, satisfaction or even simply comfort for the rest of his long life. And I made sure he'd never be able to kill himself. His life will be nothing but sadness and hopelessness for as long as he lives, and it's going to be a while."

  Tethys shuddered and pressed herself up against me, nuzzling hard at my neck, "Oh, you are delightfully, creatively evil, Matty. I'd never have thought of something so simply... sadistic."

  "He took you, had you hurt, had Kandi hurt. He's deserved something... special," I said, holding her tightly.

  "Let him go," Kandi whispered.

  I just stood there for a long second.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Don't leave him like that, Matty, I can't bear it, please?" she said.

  Tethys scowled, but said nothing.

  "Sure, Kandi, whatever you want," I said, a little annoyed (that piece of creative justice had taken a lot of work!). But I understood, and Kandi was crying, tears streaking down her face, I couldn't have that. I went over to her father and released him from my Enchantments. He groaned in relief, his eyes red and puffy as he looked up at his daughter.

  "Thank you!" he said, tears rolling down his own face, "Thank you so much, Carol."

  My little redhead kicked him square in the face and broke his nose.

  "If you ever come near me or Mum or my sisters again, I'll let him come back, do you understand me?!" she shouted.

  He nodded, his hands clenched over his bleeding nose.

  "I'm keeping your company. Be out by tomorrow morning," she finished.

  He nodded again, quite vigorously, his eyes darting between me and his daughter. She glared at him one more time and then came over to me.

  "Okay, we can go now," she said.

  I smiled and used my Will to pull a window inwards, the pane shattering over the carpet as I led them over to the edge.

  "You are a special girl, Kandi," I said, taking her hand, "and a far better person than I could ever hope to be. You amaze me every day, you know that?"

  She went bright red and there were tears in her eyes again.

  "Never change, Carol Thornsby," I said.

  She smiled and I wrapped all three of us up in Shadows before dropping us out the window and lowering us to the plaza below, where Cassandra was waiting with two c
ars and three Wardens. We landed and they darted over, weapons pointed up at the building behind us.

  "Mission accomplished?" Cassandra asked with a smile, checking me over.

  I nodded, tired and in need of a nap.

  "Anyone alive in there- Matty, duck!" she shouted, no- screamed!

  I barely obeyed in time to save my life.

  I was still too late.

  Chapter 22

  Solomon had simply dropped out of the sky. I never had a chance to see him coming. By the time I sensed his Black Magic, it was too late. But for Cassandra's warning, I'd have died, cut in half by his sword.

  As it was, I took a hit, a bad one.

  The tip of the blade sliced me open from the top of my left shoulder to my right hip, about half an inch deep, not too bad in and of itself.

  But that sword was leaking Black Magic, and... well, it got into the wound. I slammed into the bonnet of the car, but I felt no pain, the wound was already closing, the Black responding to my need instinctively, already a part of me. I felt it at the edge of my perception, flowing around my body. I shivered; it was a rush, warm and comforting.

  I don't know why I'd thought it would be cold... it wasn't.

  I felt Solomon advancing on Cassandra, and my Warden was putting up one hell of a fight, firing off everything she had, Magic and bullets. Tethys had taken Kandi and dived for cover, sensible girl; the other Wardens were firing on the half-breed, too.

  It wouldn't help. He was stronger than all of them combined, and he was calling more of the Black. I turned and saw him raise his hand.

  He tossed a sickly ball of Black Magic at Cassandra, my friend, my guardian, and someone I considered a big sister, and I knew that, right here, right now was the moment I made a choice. The choice, as a matter of fact.

  In theory, I could spend my strength and get the Black already inside me out, it hadn't spread too far, and it hadn't reached my Well yet. I could do that, and maybe save myself.

  But if I did that, if I shoved the Black out, then I wouldn't be able to stop that ball heading for Cassandra. It was too late for Will, and I didn't have the focus, anyway, it was almost at her, moving faster than the eye could follow. But I could stop it.

  Save myself or save Cassandra... It wasn't really a choice.

  I reached for Solomon's Spell. It didn't even resist me. That Spell was of the Black, and the Black was mine.

  I raised my hand and the Spell simply stopped six inches from Cassandra's face.

  It felt so... right. It wasn't pleasure, it wasn't a drug. It was simply a feeling of... coming home, of completeness. The dark power of creation, right there in my control. I sent it back to Solomon and a tiny voice inside me roared in joy as his face stretched in panic. He threw up a frantic shield, and the ball slid right through, shattering it and hitting him in the shoulder.

  He screamed. An awful, awful sound, as the skin and bone warped and mutated. The flesh bubbled and exploded as the bone shot out, growing long and sharp, a whole new Grotesque limb with a blade-like appendage on the end that started stabbing his face and chest.

  His expression contorted in horror as he grabbed at the new arm with his one good one, desperately trying to keep it from his eyes. He screamed in pain as his new limb grew fingers of razor-sharp bone and started tearing at his desperately grasping hand.

  I smiled at my work, and felt immediate horror at my own enjoyment.

  Cassandra reloaded and threw out a Chemical Burst that burned the flesh of his legs down to the bone while she opened fire again, each bullet finding its mark in his flesh now that his concentration had been disrupted.

  He threw up his hand to protect his face from the shots, but that forced him to release his new appendage, and it attacked again, tearing ever larger chunks of flesh from his head and neck. He panicked, and his wings exploded from his back, pulling him into the air and away, pursued by Magic and gunfire.

  I could have stopped him, taken him down, but I was too busy fighting my own battle.

  The Black in me was getting stronger, I could feel it, I was feeding it from my Well. In a matter of moments, the flow would be two way, and I'd be done.

  Cassandra was turning towards me, horror in her eyes and grief in her soul.

  "Cassie, shoot me!" I shouted.

  "What?" she said, her mouth opening in shock.

  "In the leg! Do it now, we have to drain the Black before it gets in my Well. Shoot me, and keep firing until I stop regenerating. Now, Cassie, please, for God's sake! I can't hold it much longer!"

  I was desperate, and I could feel it, oozing towards my core, my heart and my soul. I was fighting it, but I was also beckoning it, drawing it in. I craved it, wanted it, loved it already.

  "Now, Warden!" I shouted.

  "God forgive me," she whispered.

  She fired.

  Pain blossomed from my knee and I fell with a scream of agony.

  "Damn it, Cassie, I said leg, not knee! Do you have any idea how much that's going to ache?!"

  The Black surged and rebuilt the damage. Cassandra fired again, this time into the meat of my thigh, the muscle exploded, blood went everywhere. Still the Black came and repaired me.

  She fired again and again. Thankfully, I passed out after the fourth shot, but I knew it was working. The Black was being drained, pulling back from my Well. I heard Tethys scream my name towards the end there, but, either way, they'd be safe.

  I wouldn't be able to hurt them.

  To my immense surprise, I woke up.

  And immediately wished I hadn't.

  The Black was gone, but the need for it wasn't. I shook hard, already sweating as I came back to consciousness. Everything below the waist ached, which was only to be expected.

  I was in my room at Blackhold; it was dark and should have been pleasantly warm, but all I could feel was a deep chill. Palmyra was there, sitting next to me, holding my hand, Hopkins, too.

  "Easy, little brother," Palmyra said, her eyes filled with affection and distress, "You were very brave, and you're alright, now."

  I swallowed, my teeth chattering.

  "Why am I so cold?" I asked, pulling a blanket around myself.

  "You're in withdrawal," Hopkins said simply.

  She pulled a spare blanket off the sideboard and put it over my legs.

  "I am so very, very proud of you, Mathew," she said, a tear in her eye, "You came back. You pushed it out of you, and you came back to us."

  I tried for a smile, "I wish I could claim credit for that, but Cassandra was the one who saved me. Damn, but it's like the worst craving, ever..."

  "I know. And if you try, you can probably get it back, too. Is that what you want?"

  I breathed in a shuddering breath and shook my head.

  "N-n-no," I managed.

  She put an arm around my shoulder and squeezed. Palmyra surreptitiously cuffed a tear away.

  "You alright?" I asked Palmyra.

  "I'm fine," she replied, "We just couldn't know for sure who would wake up. Kron was sure you'd still have it in you."

  "No, it's gone," I said, feeling the craving, the gaping hole in my soul, "definitely gone. But I presume you've been checking? You'd know that."

  "Sure, but it's different when you're awake. If you'd been... changed, we wouldn't necessarily be able to tell with a dormant mind."

  "Well, feel free to check, if you like," I suggested.

  Palmyra rolled her eyes and placed a cool palm on my forehead. I felt the tingle of Magic as she looked into me. Her face brightened into a smile after an ugly pause.

  "You're fine," she said with a sigh.

  "You don't have to sound so surprised."

  "Sorry, it's just that this hasn't happened before, not to anyone stronger than a low level Wizard," Palmyra said.

  "I got lucky," I said, "very, very lucky."

  "Yes... Can you tell us what happened?" Hopkins asked, "We've spoken to your people, but I'd like to hear your perspective."

  I laid
it out for them, told them what had happened from after I'd been told Kandi had been taken.

  "That sounds remarkably coincidental, doesn't it?" Hopkins said, tapping her lip.

  I nodded. Solomon had turned up at exactly the right moment to catch me off-guard. That stunk of foreknowledge.

  "After I got his infiltrators, Solomon needed some other way to wear me down, so he probably went looking for my enemies. I'm surprised he picked Thornsby of all people, but that did provide him with the kind of bait that would guarantee my being in a certain place at a certain time," I said, "And it worked, too. I was tired and slow, and I got hit from behind."

  "You're always tired and slow," Palmyra said faux-sympathetically.

  "If I could stand up, I'd get you for that," I said, bending over my stomach, which was cramping, "God, what's happening?"

  "It's like chemical withdrawal," Palmyra said, "You had the Black flooding though your system, it rebuilt you a few times. Being without it is going to hurt."

  "Terrific," I said, breathing the cramp away, "How long? How bad?"

  "Days until the worst of the symptoms are gone, which would be anxiety, insomnia, stomach cramps, fever, and just generally feeling like puke. It'll get worse for the next three to four days before it tapers off and you'll finish with a couple of weeks where you feel like low-level crap, like a bad flu that won't end. After that, it's just an incessant craving for the rest of your life."

  "Oh, you paint such a rosy picture," I said dryly. The sweating was already getting bad. I had to shed the blanket, which just made me shiver again.

  Palmyra patted my shoulder, "It's going to be harder for you. That description is based on a Wizard-level Shadowborn. It's worse depending on how much Black was used and the strength of the user. You're so screwed."

  "Oh thank you very much!"

  "Hey, you played with the Black...." Palmyra said.

  "I did not play with it! It got stabbed into my back!"