Hard Magic: Book I of the Grimnoir Chronicles-ARC

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Hard Magic: Book I of the Grimnoir Chronicles-ARC Page 45

by Larry Correia


  Heinrich rose. “She was a remarkable woman. I’ve known thousands who shared her final curse, and only the very best of them were strong enough to think of anyone other than themselves . . . I offered to end her suffering, but she wanted her death to have meaning . . . I must go check on Faye.”

  Meaning. He’d survived Rockville. He could survive anything.

  Sullivan shoved the ring back on his pinky.

  Faye was in the place with the big glowing thing in the sky, which was apparently what the Power looked like in real life, two big shapes stuck together, all made of bunches of little complicated shapes, with dangling arms connecting to every Active in the world. It still reminded her of that drawing of a jellyfish that she’d seen in a book. Instead of Mr. Sullivan’s wasteland from the big war, she was sitting on a haystack, watching the cows wander in on their own from the corral because they knew it was milking time. Crows were landing on the barn roof, and the air smelled like it had just rained, and above it all was the Power. Her place was a lot nicer than Mr. Sullivan’s.

  The last time she’d been here, in the dream world, not on the Vierra farm, she’d thought that this was hell, and she’d been condemned there for breaking the commandment about not killing folks. Well, since then, she’d killed so many people that she’d lost track, but they’d all been bad, and she’d done it all with her God-given abilities, so she figured her and God were square.

  Her body was back in the real world, but she’d fried her brain map like an egg. She did not know if she would ever wake up. Might as well get comfy.

  She watched the Power for a while, as it consumed the magic of the Actives who died. The Power had planted the seeds, the Actives had grown the crop, and now it was time to harvest. The Power wasn’t scary. It was just a big critter. It wasn’t good, or bad. It just wanted to live, same as anything else, and it did it through people like her. It was silly to be scared of the Power. In fact, it was scared itself. She could see that now. Something bad and hungry was hunting it, and the Power was afraid.

  “You see it too, Traveler?”

  The Chairman was sitting on another bale of hay, dressed in a robe just like when she’d seen him last, only he had his hands back. “No fair, I thought you was dead.”

  “I am.” The Chairman turned his head, and she could see right through him. She should have been scared of ghosts, but she wasn’t. Nothing could hurt her here, in the place where the dead came to dream. He bowed his head slightly. “Congratulations.”

  “You shouldn’t have killed my Grandpa. Serves you right.”

  “Revenge is as good a motive as any. Nobler by far than most,” the haunt said. He went back to the Power. “I tried to prepare the world, to create a society that would be ready. I failed. Now what will you do without me?”

  Faye thought about it. She knew he was talking about the other thing, the hungry thing. “When it shows up . . . it’ll get dealt with.”

  “You will need to be strong. Stronger than you are now. Perhaps in the future you will look back and regret your decisions, but I doubt that. May I leave you my final poem?”

  “Sure.”

  “A second sun at night

  from the ocean consuming

  Life as oars to water

  leaving no trace behind.”

  “Pretty,” Faye said.

  “Farewell, Traveler.” The Chairman’s form dissipated on the wind.

  Epilogue

  Now is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.

  —Winston Churchill,

  longtime critic of the Imperium upon hearing

  of Chairman Okubo Tokugawa’s demise, 1932

  New York City, New York

  3 Months Later

  He had to admit, this really was a pretty spectacular office. From the top of the Chrysler Building he could see the dirigibles docking at the Empire State Building, and every inch of the place was pure, polished opulence. “I’ve got to hand it to the old coot. He certainly knew how to live.”

  “Yes, Mr. Stuyvesant,” the new UBF vicepresident of finance said as he flopped onto the overstuffed leather couch. “You know why your grandfather used to say that he liked this building the best?”

  Francis Cornelius Stuyvesant II turned from the glass wall, picked up the bottle of fine wine from his marble desk, and walked over. “No, why is that, Mr. Chandler?”

  The accountant laughed as he held out the empty glass. “He said it was because it was pointy.” Francis poured him another refill. “Can you believe that?”

  He sat on the couch, uncomfortable in his new tuxedo. He’d inherited the most powerful company in the world. He’d gone toe to toe with the most dangerous wizard in history. He’d survived direct hits from two Tesla superweapons. He was a telekinetic and also happened to be a member of a magical secret society. “I can believe just about anything.”

  Chandler inhaled the drink in one gulp and gave a contented sigh. “Well, now that we’ve gotten the legal aspects taken care of, and all the papers are signed, UBF is all yours, Francis.” The accountant usually only called him by his first name after he’d had a few too many. “What’re you going to do now?”

  Francis swirled the wine around but didn’t really feel like drinking. “I don’t know . . . I’ve got so much responsibility. I can run this company the way I always thought it should have been run.”

  The accountant shook his head. “I meant about the other thing.”

  The five UBF men who’d survived the Tokugawa had all been paid buckets of money and sworn to secrecy. “Well, in the papers I’m a famous billionaire playboy. I suppose it isn’t really practical for the head of UBF to go out and battle evil . . . Hmmm . . . Maybe I could wear a disguise when I fulfill my Grimnoir duties . . . Like a mask or something.”

  “That is perhaps the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Chandler laughed. “You’re a hoot.”

  Francis grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, that is pretty ridiculous. So, what are your plans now that everything is under control?”

  “Me? I’m a bookkeeper who drinks too much, is always in a foul mood, and hates coming to work. But since you’re paying me lots of money because of my refreshing honesty, I’m not going anywhere.” He stood and walked to the door, but paused on his way out. “Though I have given some thought to trying my hand at writing . . .”

  Francis chuckled. “Good night, Ray.” The accountant gave a little salute with two fingers and closed the door behind him. It was a rare man you could trust with either a Thompson or a general ledger. Francis stayed on the couch, enjoying being alone and the quiet lights of the city. “It’s been a long day . . .” he muttered to himself.

  “No kidding!” Faye said as she appeared directly in front of him.

  “Gah!” he spilled the wine all over his pants. “Don’t do that!”

  Faye clucked disapprovingly and put her hands on her hips. “It ain’t my fault you don’t have a head map. Sheesh. Look at that, you’re gonna be all stained.”

  It was then that he realized Faye was wearing an honest-to-goodness evening dress. And her hair was done up. And she was wearing jewelry. And lipstick? How scandalous. “I . . . I . . .” He was speechless. “Well . . .”

  “Yeah, I do clean up pretty good, huh?” Faye smiled. “Jane helped me.” She twirled for him. “Not bad for a hick, huh?”

  “Not bad at all,” he answered truthfully.

  She beamed at the compliment. “Like I was saying though, super long day. Rumor is that there’s Iron Guards up to something in Alabama, and Lance is gonna go check it out, but then some Active kids got rounded up by a mob for nothing but being Active since folks are still all riled up at us, and they’re having a sham trial, so Heinrich’s going down there to help ’em, and Jane and Dan’s wedding is coming up next week, and they said you have to come, don’t care how busy you are, and Mr. Browning says hello from France, and his telegram said that he’d be honored to be in charge of
the American knights, but the stupid elders still won’t give up Mr. Rawls, and still nobody knows where Mr. Sullivan went off to but he said it was real important so it must be, and that reminds me, Mr. Southunder called and said thanks for the new fancy blimp, and—”

  Francis put his finger on her lips. Nothing stopped Faye when her head got to spinning. “We’re going to be late for the play.”

  “I can fix that real quick!”

  He was hesitant. After she’d Traveled an entire dirigible, Faye had slept for a week straight. Her Power had been severely overtaxed, nearly burned out, and she was still recovering. It turned out that even Faye had limits. “Can’t we take the elevator?”

  Faye’s grey eyes twinkled. The Traveler may only have worked her way back up to a small part of the magic she’d tapped during the battle, but nothing could keep Faye down for long. She took his hand. “Elevators are for chumps!”

  END

  Glossary

  of Magical Terms

  From the notes of Jake Sullivan, 1932

  A

  Active—The catch-all term for people with magical abilities.

  Specifically those who have strong enough connections to

  the Power to utilize their ability at will and with a greater

  degree of control than a Passive. Actives vary in the amount

  of Power available to them, with some being more naturally

  gifted than others. The conventional wisdom has always

  been that Actives are only able to use one type of Power.

  Actively Magical—Old-fashioned term for Active.

  Angel of Death—(see Pale Horse)

  B

  Burner—(see Torch)

  Beastie—Similar to Dolittle, but stronger, with the added ability to

  control animals telepathically. Extreme cases can actually

  put part of their consciousness into the creature and fully

  control it, including broadcasting the Beastie’s speech, etc.

  There have been some rumors of Beasties capable of

  controlling human beings, but that may be antimagic

  propaganda.

  Beastman—(see Beastie)

  Boomer—Unknown type of Active. The Special Prisoners’ Wing

  guards at Rockville mentioned holding one of these in

  solitary confinement in a special lead-lined chamber.

  Brute—One of the most common of all Magicals. Brutes channel

  Power through their bodies, increasing their physical

  strength and toughness. They must work up to greater feats

  of strength. If too much Power is used too quickly, severe

  injuries or death can occur. They have been banned from

  professional sports in most countries, but there is always

  work available for a Brute.

  C

  Cog—The second most popular of all Actives. Cogs are able to tap

  their Power to fuel their intelligence, and to receive strokes

  of magical brilliance. They usually only have one area that

  they are gifted in, for example Ferdinand von Zeppelin was

  a Cog when it came to airships. If it weren’t for his bursts of

  magical ideas, who knows what we would be riding. I do not

  know if all Cogs are already intelligent, but I’ve never heard

  of a dumb one.

  Crackle—Capable of channeling, harnessing, and controlling

  electrical current. They are a relatively common type, and

  most make their living as electricians or in industry. The

  more powerful Cracklers can draw energy from the air

  and generate their own lightning.

  D

  demon—(see Summoned)

  E

  Edison—(see Crackler) I have been told this is considered the

  polite term now.

  elder—Member of the Grimnoir Society leadership.

  Enemy—Unknown predatory creature that may be pursuing the

  Power, according to Chairman Okubo Tokugawa.

  F

  Fade—Capable of walking through solid objects. Perhaps they do

  this through modifying their density so that other matter

  fits between their molecules. They are the opposite of the

  Massive, yet both on them originate from the same

  Density related section of the Power. Fades are universally

  loathed for their reputation as thieves, cutthroats,

  and peeping toms.

  Finder—Related to the Summoner, but dealing more with

  disembodied spirits rather than physical beings. Finders are

  primarily used as scouts, and their sensitivity varies greatly.

  It is possible that Finders and Summoners are using the

  same region of the Power, with Summoners simply being

  more powerful.

  Fixer—(see Cog) Usually a term reserved for lower level Cogs, who

  are better at repairing than inventing.

  Fortune Teller—Charlatans who pretend to have magic and know

  the future to rip off suckers. There is no proof of any

  precognitive Active.

  G

  Gravity Spiker—(see Heavy) The much more dignified term

  for an Active Heavy.

  Grey Eye—(see Traveler) All known Travelers have strange

  grey eyes.

  Grim Reaper—(see Pale Horse)

  Grimnoir Society—A combination of the French words grimoire,

  for book of spells, and noir, for black, because at the time

  the origins of magic were shrouded in mystery. The Society

  was founded to protect Actives from the Normals and to

  protect the Normals from Actives. Their primary operatives

  are known as knights, and their leaders are referred to as

  elders. They work in secrecy.

  H

  Head Cas—(see Reader)

  Heale—The rarest and most popular of all Actives. They are

  capable of accelerating the natural healing process. Even the

  weakest Passive Healer is worth a fortune. Strong Healers

  can fix most wounds almost instantaneously. I have been led

  to understand that even without using their Power, they

  can always see a person’s insides. I suppose it’s a good thing

  they’re paid so well, because that would make me ill.

  Heavy—A very common type of Active. Most Heavies are limited

  to changing the gravitational pull in a very limited area.

  Strong Heavies can change the pull and also the direction

  in a larger area. Heavies are one of the few types of Actives

  that all tend to fall into the same physical category, most of

  them being large of stature. There is an undeserved

  stereotype that Heavies are dumb. (see Gravity Spiker)

  I

  Icebox—Always handy to have around when you want some ice in

  your drink, the Icebox is able to lower temperatures.

  Stronger Actives can freeze water or even blood and tissue

  instantly. There have been stories of Iceboxes who could

  produce ice walls or spikes out of thin air, but these may be

  the result of a popular radio program, The Adventures of

  Captain Johnny Freeze. As a physical benefit, Iceboxes

  cannot be harmed by frostbite or extreme cold.

  J

  Justice—This is a rumored type of Active. Supposedly, they can

  always tell truth from lies. Personally, I’ll believe it

  when I meet one.

  K

  kanji—(see Spells) The Japanese term for physical spells. Their

  Kanji tends to be more stylized and artistic than the western

  European st
yle markings of the Grimnoir, but is very

  effective at channeling Power.

  knight—An operative of the Grimnoir Society.

  L

  Lazarus—An Active capable of chaining the spirits of the recently

  dead to their bodies, creating tortured undead. They are the

  worst of all, sheer magic scum, and the only good Lazarus

  is a dead Lazarus.

  Lightning Bug—(see Crackler)

  Lucky—I had heard about these for years, and thought they

  were a fairytale to explain people who cheated at cards.

  They use their magical ability to alter probability. The term

  used by Dr. Fort to explain this ability to influence chance

  was psychokinesis.

  M

  Machine Head—(see Cog) Usually a Cog who is in tune with

  physical machines rather than theory or science.

  Magicals—A common term for people with Power, which can

  include both Actives and Passives.

  Massive—An extremely rare type of Active, capable of increasing

  their physical density, until they are almost invulnerable.

  I believe they are related to Fades, but in the opposite end

  of the spectrum.

  Mende—(see Healer)

 

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