The Cathedral of Known Things

by Edward Cox

  Angel slumped. She closed her eyes and fell sideways, unconscious.

  ‘Angel!’ Van Bam caught her and laid her gently upon the ground. ‘Angel, can you hear me?’

  ‘It doesn’t make sense,’ Namji said, also crouching beside the healer. ‘Coppion venom can be deadly, but it is simple to cure. Especially for a magical healer. What do we do?’

  The young Aelf harboured no deviousness; the fearful, confused expression that her face now held was undoubtedly genuine.

  ‘Buyaal,’ Van Bam called urgently. ‘We need stronger magic to help Angel. How close are we to the Hermit?’

  ‘Oh, fairly close, I should think.’

  Buyaal’s reply raised the hairs on the back of Van Bam’s neck. There had been a cold and hard quality to it that bordered on wicked amusement. The self-proclaimed Master of the Desert had absolutely no interest in the ailing healer. He stood with his back to the group, facing an uneven path that led up to the wall of the crater, where the warm glow of firelight flickered in the mouth of a cave.

  Buyaal dropped his hand to his side. ‘So there you are,’ he said.

  ‘Buyaal?’ Van Bam was ignored.

  ‘I know you’re there.’ Buyaal was calling to the cave. ‘You must have known I would find a way to locate you eventually. And you just couldn’t resist a bird with a broken wing, could you?’ He glanced back at the unconscious form of Angel. His face was amused. ‘You’re pathetic,’ he told the cave, ‘even for an abomination.’

  Van Bam gripped his cane tightly. Namji looked at him, confused and clearly looking for answers that he did not have.

  ‘Well?’ Buyaal shouted. ‘Have you nothing to say for yourself?’

  ‘You have the nerve to call me an abomination?’ The voice that replied was borne on the desert breeze. Male, strong and clear, its tone was pitying, not aggressive. ‘I was not the one who turned his back on his Mother.’

  Buyaal barked a laugh. ‘No, the Timewatcher turned Her back on you! But come – what is the point of hiding further?’

  As Van Bam watched, a sense of dread sinking inside him, the silhouette of a person appeared in the cave mouth. Stooping to step out into the open, the creature that emerged was a giant. Ten feet tall at the very least, long hair falling about his shoulders.

  Van Bam could not make out any features, but he could see something dripping from the giant’s clenched fist.

  ‘I am the one who is hiding, Lord Buyaal?’

  The giant thrust out his hand, palm first, long fingers splayed. From a cut on his palm, he sent a small shower of blood into the air. The wind picked up and swirled around Van Bam, Namji and Angel. The illusionist covered his eyes from the sudden storm of dust and sand. The wind died quickly to leave behind a wavering barrier of energy around the two magickers and the Aelf. Glowing with a pale violet radiance, the magical barrier separated them from Buyaal.

  His face angry, his teeth clenched, Buyaal turned on the giant. He whispered in a quick, sibilant language, and his skin began to glow with magic. With a yell of rage, he released the magic. But the giant had erected a barrier around himself, and when the energy hit it there was a dull clanging and the crackle of lightning. The impact was enough to knock the giant to the ground, but the magic rebounded and punched Buyaal off his feet too.

  Quickly rising, Buyaal staggered, breathing heavily, and glared at Van Bam. The illusionist now saw the Aelf ’s true image.

  Buyaal wore the long black cassock of a priest. His Aelfirian face looked more human – was at once beautiful and terrible. His tattoos had disappeared, but a patch of scarring on his forehead was bright and pale under the moonlight.

  ‘Genii,’ Namji hissed, and Van Bam made to stab his cane into the ground.

  ‘Do nothing, Van Bam,’ the giant ordered. ‘You are well protected, and he’s much more powerful than you, anyway.’

  The giant’s voice, as he slowly got to his feet, carried a distinct lack of worry or urgency. Protected by his barrier, he stood his ground, as if simply waiting for the Genii to make his next move. Blood dripped from his hand, sizzling with energy as it slapped to the rock.

  Buyaal seemed unsteady on his feet, dazed. His skin glowed with magic again, and then he slashed his hand through the air. A black, vertical line was left behind, a rent in reality, which the newly revealed Genii stretched open with his hands to expose the glassy surface of a portal. The giant did nothing as Buyaal fled into it and disappeared, the rent sealing behind him.

  Magic flared in the giant’s hand and healed the cut on his palm. He walked forwards, and the barrier of energy surrounding him and the group disappeared.

  Van Bam stood protectively before Namji and Angel’s unconscious body. He raised his green glass cane.

  ‘You have nothing to fear,’ the giant reassured him. ‘Well, at least not from me.’

  As the giant came close and looked down at the illusionist, Van Bam illuminated his cane, casting light on the giant’s features. His gaunt face, at least four feet above Van Bam’s, was more human than Aelfirian; his pale skin was smooth and stubble free, contrasting with the dirty tangles of his long hair. His body beneath a habit of itchy-looking brown material appeared wiry. His arms were criss-crossed with a plethora of scars.

  And his eyes … his eyes were orbs of pure blue that shone in the light of the cane.

  The giant frowned at Namji, who couldn’t quite meet his dazzling eyes. She looked close to tears.

  ‘Don’t torture yourself, Namji,’ the giant said kindly. ‘Many people have been fooled by Buyaal. It is not your fault that you didn’t recognise him for what he was when he first came to Mirage.’ His face was sympathetic. ‘And I am sorry for your loss.’

  ‘Are …’ Van Bam paused to clear his throat as the giant gazed down at him. ‘Are you the Hermit?’

  ‘My name is Gulduur Bellow.’ The reply came with an admonishing expression. ‘And I doubt the stories you’ve heard about me are particularly truthful.’

  ‘You are a Nephilim.’

  ‘And you are a human. Are there any other obvious facts you’d like us to swap?’

  Van Bam kept his mouth shut.

  After giving Angel a lingering glance, the giant – the Nephilim called Gulduur Bellow – walked past Van Bam and Namji to stare down the narrow valley between the rocks which led back to the desert.

  ‘Buyaal has been trying to find me for a long time,’ Bellow said, looking up at the sky. ‘Though I don’t think he really understood what he was searching for. Not until now.’

  Van Bam looked around. ‘Where is the resistance? Where are your freedom fighters?’

  ‘Freedom fighters?’ The giant looked back at Van Bam. ‘What has that Genii been telling you? I’m all alone up here.’ He shook his huge head and turned his brilliant blue eyes to the sky again. ‘But lucky for you I was here. If I hadn’t intervened when I did, Buyaal would have started killing you, one by one, and not quickly or without pain.’

  The Nephilim returned to the group. ‘We have a lot to discuss, Van Bam. But first, your friend Angel needs attention. The coppion venom in her veins has been enhanced by Genii magic. With your permission, I’d like to heal her.’

  Van Bam’s mouth worked silently as he stared at the giant blood-magicker without replying.

  ‘Please understand,’ said Bellow, ‘I’m going to heal Angel whether you give permission or just stare at me dumbly.’

  ‘Yes. Yes of course,’ Van Bam blurted.

  ‘Good decision.’

  Gulduur Bellow bent down and picked Angel up. She seemed as small as a child in his arms.

  ‘I would like you to assist me,’ he said to Namji, clearly not giving her a choice. Open-mouthed, she nodded. ‘As for you, Van Bam,’ he continued, carrying Angel towards his cave, ‘please wait here. I’ll let you know when your friend is better, and it is time for us to talk
.’

  ‘Wake up, Tommy.’

  Small eyes blinked open, confused, frightened, as they found the shadowy figure standing over the bed. The man called Tommy panicked. In a flurry of motion, he tried to disentangle himself from sheets, and reach for a weapon concealed in his bedside cabinet. But the shadowy figure punched him hard in the face, knocking his head back down onto the pillow. His nose bleeding, Tommy froze as he stared down the barrel of a revolver which had appeared before his face. A power stone whined into life with a violet glow, illuminating the strong hand that aimed the gun.

  ‘If you think you can reach a weapon before I can put a bullet through your skull,’ said the shadowy figure, ‘think again.’

  ‘W-What are you doing? Who are you?’

  ‘I’m one of the Resident’s men, Tommy. The Nightshade has been watching you.’

  ‘You’re … you’re …’ With the back of his shaking hand, Tommy wiped blood from his nose. ‘The Relic Guild,’ he finished fearfully.

  Samuel switched on the glow lamp on the bedside cabinet. Tommy blinked in the sudden bright light, the blood from his nose smeared across his lean face and hand. Through the wayward strands of hair hanging before his eyes, he stared up at the Relic Guild agent, whose identity was concealed behind the magical shadows cast by the brim of his hat.

  ‘W-what do you want?’

  He sounded as scared as Samuel wanted him to be.

  ‘That’s an interesting question, Tommy.’

  Information supplied by Macy and Bryant had led Samuel to this place. The bedroom was part of the living quarters above a junkshop situated in an unremarkable area of the eastern district. The man in the bed was known as Long Tommy. Around Samuel’s age, he had many talents that made him popular in the underworld, perhaps most especially a talent for covering his tracks and avoiding the law. But not this time.

  ‘Here’s the deal,’ Samuel said. ‘In my pocket, I have an envelope filled with money. The Resident wants you to have it in exchange for information. But the thing is, Tommy, I don’t want to give it to you. You’re a magic-user. I should be taking you to the Nightshade.’

  ‘No,’ Tommy said quickly. ‘You’ve got it wrong. I don’t touch magic.’

  There was some truth to that. Macy and Bryant had discovered that Long Tommy had retired his services when war broke out. With the doorways of the Great Labyrinth closed to all, there currently wasn’t much call for magic-users among the treasure hunters and other criminals of the underworld. Plus, since the war had started, the Resident’s punishment for the abuse of magic in Labrys Town had become rather more severe. Samuel couldn’t decide if it was smarts or cowardice that had inspired Tommy’s retirement.

  ‘Just because you stopped using magic two years ago doesn’t exonerate you,’ Samuel said. ‘Besides, I heard that you recently came out of retirement. A one-time job for a special client. Or was I told wrong?’

  The man in the bed made to object again, but Samuel stopped him by pushing the revolver closer to his face.

  ‘Think very carefully before you lie to me, Tommy.’

  Tommy wiped more blood from his nose, his shoulders slumped, and then the fear on his face became tinged with anger. ‘It wasn’t a paying job,’ he said. ‘He didn’t give me a choice.’

  ‘Oh, I know that,’ Samuel said. ‘And when you say he, you mean Fabian Moor, don’t you?’

  Tommy nodded and averted his gaze.

  When Moor had first arrived in Labrys Town, Gideon had warned the denizens of his presence using a cover story. Gideon told the populace that treasure hunters trying to leave the Labyrinth had unwittingly set a wild demon loose upon the town. In the meantime, in the underworld, Moor had been introducing himself to many seedy characters, and making the criminals very nervous by asking the wrong kind of questions about the Nightshade and the Relic Guild.

  Samuel didn’t know how many of those criminals had worked out that Moor was a Genii, but the underworld was as afraid of him as they were of the Relic Guild. Most of the people who had dealt with Moor had gone missing, undoubtedly used to feed the Genii’s thirst for blood. According to Macy and Bryant, now that word of the wild demon’s capture had spread, the underworld was practically in a state of celebration about it.

  ‘Tommy, the Relic Guild is in possession of a strange magical device. What it is, we don’t yet understand. The only thing we know for sure is that you helped Fabian Moor make it.’

  ‘I didn’t help him,’ Tommy squealed desperately. ‘He didn’t need me to. I promise, he forced his way into my workshop and started using the parts I had lying around.’

  ‘Yes, parts like a sphere of Aelfirian glass,’ Samuel said. ‘You know the sort I mean, Tommy. Special glass, designed to hold spells.’

  ‘Listen to me,’ Tommy pleaded. ‘I couldn’t stop him. He made me give him the glass, and the lead—’

  ‘Lead?’ said Samuel.

  Tommy licked blood from lips. ‘I had some that I’d prepared for making magical bullets,’ he explained guiltily, and was quick to add, ‘I wasn’t planning to use it. The lead was just left-over stock, that’s all.’

  ‘Just like the glass,’ said Samuel, his tone unconvinced. ‘Moor used the lead to cover the sphere in that mesh?’

  Tommy nodded, his brow creased with worry. ‘I’ve known a couple of metallurgists in my time, but I’ve never met anyone who could do what Moor did to that lead. He changed its state, made it not quite solid, not quite liquid. I’ve never seen anyone use that kind of magic before.’

  ‘Well, Fabian Moor is extra specially talented,’ Samuel replied. ‘So, he took Aelfirian glass, surrounded it in magical metal, and then set power stones into it. Why? What’s the device for?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Samuel scoffed. ‘If you’re going to lie to me, you’ll have to do better than that. I know you’re scared of Moor, but the Relic Guild has him, and he’s not getting free any time soon. It’s me you should be scared of now. What’s the device for, Tommy?’

  Tommy swallowed blood, his expression disgusted. ‘Transportation,’ he muttered.

  ‘Transportation? As in a portal?’

  ‘No. I think it might be some kind of shadow carriage.’

  ‘You’ll have to do better than I think, Tommy.’

  ‘Look, Moor wasn’t exactly chatty about what he was making,’ Tommy explained miserably. ‘But he said the shadow carriages of Labrys Town were too well-guarded, and he needed to move something to and from the portals without detection.’

  ‘Move what?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘Then … is he trying to smuggle something into Labrys Town, or out into the Great Labyrinth?’

  ‘I don’t know, maybe both.’ Tommy sighed. ‘When Moor had finished making the device, all he said was that nobody would see his next move coming.’ He opened his hands in a helpless gesture. ‘And that’s really all I know. I swear. He left, saying that he’d need my help again soon, but I never saw him after that.’

  Samuel believed him. So what was the Genii trying to transport?

  ‘You’re a lucky man, Tommy. Not many people walk away from a meeting with Fabian Moor … or the Relic Guild.’ Samuel deactivated the revolver’s power stone, and slid the weapon into the holster strapped to his thigh. ‘The Resident has taken a shine to you.’

  As Tommy’s expression registered the implications of these words with fear, Samuel produced from his coat pocket a brown envelope fat with Labyrinth pounds. He threw it on the bed.

  ‘I tried telling Gideon that you weren’t worth it, Tommy, but he’s convinced you can be of use to the Relic Guild in the future. And Gideon’s not exactly a man you want to argue with. You know a lot of people in the underworld, and you must hear all kinds of things that the Nightshade would be interested in. Understand?’

  Tommy stared at the envelop
e. He seemed relieved that he was about to survive an encounter with an agent of the Relic Guild, but also mortified that he had just become an informant for the Resident. He looked up at Samuel, found no choices in the magicker’s shadowed face, and nodded unhappily.

  ‘I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Tommy,’ Samuel said as he was leaving. ‘If you ever mention the name Fabian Moor to anyone, I’ll pay you another visit.’

  ‘I’ve lost track of time, you know,’ Matthaus said suddenly. It was the first time in a couple of hours he had broken from studying Denton’s secret instructions.

  Marney could no longer feel her legs. Beaten, aching and exhausted, she knelt on the hard floor, inadequately dressed, hands and feet bound behind her, shivering from cold and fear, covered in dried blood.

  Sitting at the camping table, the grizzled, veteran Aelf laid down the contents of Denton’s envelope and looked up at the stone hut’s ceiling.

  ‘We’ve been trapped here for at least six weeks. Probably more. It’s hard to tell. Most days we’re lucky if we catch a glimpse of the sun. At night, things start roaming the mountainside … monsters.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t think they’re real, but they are personal. The ghosts of our sins, Red called them, back when she was sane. Before you killed her.’

  Matthaus’s large, shrewd eyes met Marney’s.

  Desperately, Marney tried to ignore the voice in her head that told her there was no way she was getting out of this mess alive. Her empathic magic was gone, drained from her body by the anti-magic spell, and it had left her emotionally raw and exposed. Was her magic dead, gone for good? Or just temporarily anaesthetised?

  ‘Let me tell you the irony of our situation,’ Matthaus said. ‘Me, Jantal and Nurmar – we’re mercenaries. When we first signed up for the war, we were contracted to fight for a House that was on the Timewatcher’s side. Oh, I know what you’re thinking, Marney – sides don’t matter to a mercenary. But I think this was something of an exception, don’t you?’

  Marney nodded, dislodging a tear from her eye. She tried to smile for Matthaus, thinking that if she could get him to like her enough, he wouldn’t allow her to be served up as a meal for his band of deserters.