by T. S. Mann
Decisively.
Immediately, everyone started shouting in confusion and anger as the assembled paladins assumed that the Collegians had done something treacherous with their leader.
“Where is Mother Eagle?” yelled Brother Kestrel angrily.
“For that matter, where’s Doc?” asked Matt in confusion.
“They’re both … gone,” said Widget slowly. “Neither of them is in the complex anymore.”
She took a deep breath. “And in the case of Doc, I’m pretty sure he’s … not on Earth anymore. I think he’s … Transcended. And I suspect, he took your leader with him.”
A shocked silence descended over the entire assembly, though Matt and Luke were more confused than astonished as neither had any understanding of what the word “Transcended” meant in this context. Then, Brother Falcon snarled and pulled his sword.
“This is some bullshit! Tell us what happened to Mother Eagle now, or there’s gonna be bloodshed, and it ain’t gonna be ours.”
John stepped forward calmly. “I understand you’re upset, my friend, but you really want to think things through before you start anything now.”
Falcon pointed his sword at him. “And why is that exactly?”
John just looked over at Lionel Bartok. “Adjudicator?” he prompted.
Bartok looked genuinely disappointed that he’d been called upon to give an explanation before the paladins did something amusingly stupid like attacking the Collegians. He addressed the paladins with an oily confidence.
“Because your leader freely and willingly accepted me as adjudicator of this duel, and as part of the terms of combat, she agreed that you would all leave peacefully once it was concluded. I don’t know what really happened to Ellington and Mother Eagle, but the results of the duel are clear. The dueling circle, once activated, cannot be made to lie, and it says that Ellington won fair and square.
“Your leader lost, and you are bound by the terms she accepted. Accordingly, you will leave here peacefully and pursue no revenge against anyone in the Invisible College over the duel’s outcome.”
Bartok’s cold gaze swept over the paladins who all seemed ready to ignore his words.
“Otherwise,” he continued forcefully, “as adjudicator, I have the power to sanction your entire order over any failure to comply on the part of any one of you. And since I am both the adjudicator and a High Priest of Mammon, such sanction will most likely involve the forfeiture of assets.
“If any of you so much as lay a finger anyone in this room, I can seize the entirety of the Church’s properties, including but not limited to your magical relics and artifacts; your various secret bases; your lovely collection of antique swords, including the ones you’re carrying right now; and even your Church-issued uniforms.
“With just a snap of my fingers, I can deposit the whole sorry bunch of you outside the Boston city limits, unarmed and wearing nothing but whatever holy undergarments you lot wear beneath those cheap suits.”
Then, he smiled maliciously. “And that’s assuming I don’t put in a claim for your souls!”
Several of the paladins (and even a few of the Collegians) gasped in horror.
“You … you can’t …!” exclaimed Brother Kestrel.
“Your leader, in her hubris, turned arbitration of a no-limits duel over to a High Priest of Mammon, dear boy,” he interrupted with a vicious smirk. “Do you want to test the limits of what I can do to you if you give me cause?”
Bartok pointed towards the door. “Get out, all of you.”
All the paladins looked towards Brother Falcon, the most senior member of the order after Mother Eagle’s unexpected departure. As angry as he was, he knew when he was beaten. Without another word, he turned and stalked out of the gym, pausing just long enough to reclaim Mother Eagle’s abandoned sword. The other Unity Blade members followed behind him. Kestrel was the last to leave, and he paused to look back at the remaining Strangers (and especially Ethan) before following his peers.
Bryce leaned in towards Bartok and stage-whispered to him. “I’m pretty sure just being adjudicator for a duel doesn’t give you a claim for the souls of an entire congregation of paladins.”
The Mammonite sneered in the direction of the departing Strangers. “And I’m pretty sure Mother Eagle never allowed any of her flock to learn how plutomancy and contractual magic work, for fear that it might tempt some of them over to our side.”
Bryce rolled his eyes. “Why are you here, Lionel? Why did you decide to help us? You were pretty blunt when we spoke that there was no profit in it.”
“And I was mistaken in my analysis. Fortunately, while I am principally a psychomancer, I have also made an extensive study of Fate magic. I’m not a master – yet – but I have several persistent karmic effects designed to direct my attention to any potential profit streams that I might otherwise have missed. One of them pointed me quite forcefully in your direction, and I reconsidered my early dismissal.”
“And has this evening been … profitable for you?” Widget asked cautiously.
Bartok grinned broadly. “Ellington is gone. Mother Eagle is gone, and under circumstances that have thrown the Unity Blade into disarray. I am at this point probably the most powerful individual Stranger in Boston. The position of the Cult of Mammon is greatly improved, and my own role in making it all happen will further enhance my reputation within the Cult and my influence over it. Yes, Mrs. Caulfield, I do believe this has been a most profitable evening.”
He nodded politely to the Caulfields and then headed towards the door, pausing only long enough to call back to them over his shoulder.
“Oh, and don’t forget! Wedding #9 next Valentine's Day! Save the date!” he said jauntily before strolling out of the gym whistling a peppy tune.
“You know,” said Bryce, “it’s really hard for me to express just how much I hate that guy.”
“Agreed,” Widget replied before turning to the remaining people in the gym.
“Okay! I know we’ve all been through a lot over the last few days, just as I know you have a lot of questions about what’s going to happen next with the College. Unfortunately, answering those questions will have to wait a while because we’re all too damned tired! So right now, every one of you go home and get some sleep. Be back in the conference room tomorrow at 10:00 a.m., when hopefully we will have those answers for you.”
Disgruntled but also exhausted, the younger Collegians made their way towards the exit, with the Sullivans and their friends following behind.
“Alright, I’ll ask,” Luke said to his father. “What does Transcending mean?”
“It’s something incredibly rare, almost to the point of being an urban legend among Strangers.” John began. “And if that’s what really happened to Doc, you’re in rare company to have witnessed it firsthand. You already know about all the Axioms. Well, all Strangers are permanently linked to one of the Higher ones. Fate in my case. Death for you, and Light for Matt. You can attune to the other Axioms, and sometimes at higher levels than the one you’re linked to, but it’s the Higher Axiom you first attune to that will always define your magic.
“Today, most of the magical orders agree that attunement to any Axiom is on a five-tier continuum. At the first level, you can basically do party tricks. At level two, you can do things that are more obviously magical. At three, you can hurt someone, and at four, you can kill them. At five – mastery – you can literally work miracles so long as they fit within the narrative themes of your primary Axiom.
“Of course, there’s a lot more you can do at levels three and four than hurt and kill people, but those are the clearest and most universally accepted dividing lines. And for the most part, five is as good as you can get.”
“Let me guess,” Matt said. “Doc found level six?”
“Yes, incredibly. Transcendence means forging a connection to your primary Axiom that’s stronger than your connection to Reality. And since Reality hates things that don’t want to be
a part of it, the whole universe reacts negatively to Transcended Strangers even more so than it does to newly-created ones.
“If he’s truly Transcended, Doc is basically a god of mind magic, but if he stayed within the confines of Reality, his mere presence would have allowed that same mind magic to run wild all around him. And so, he … left.”
“Left … Reality?” Luke asked in surprise. “Where’d he go?”
“The Superstructure – an array of metaphysical dimensions that emanate from the Higher Axioms. Domains of raw imagination that shield our universe from the Great Beyond.”
“Wow,” said Ethan, who knew just enough to be awestruck by Doc’s Transcendence. Dani, who was carrying her “Electra coat” but had not yet donned it, was quiet and thoughtful.
Matt stopped, and the rest of the group turned to face him. “So … we won’t see him again?” he asked with a certain degree of sadness. True, Doc had mentally manipulated him, arguably to the point of brainwashing. But given everything that had happened, Matt couldn’t say that the old man was wrong to do so. After all, if Matt hadn’t run away from the Invisible College and straight into Lindsay’s arms, the world might not have come quite so close to an Aztec-themed Armageddon.
John shrugged. “Never say never, Matt. But if we want to see him, we’d have to go … out there. And the Superstructure is rarely a hospitable place to visit.”
“Is Deadworld part of the Superstructure?” Luke asked. “I, um, took a brief side trip there earlier.”
Dani narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, I was wondering about that but didn’t quite know how to bring it up. Does your ‘side trip’ have anything to do with that ghostly cheerleader who’s playing with Matt’s hair?”
Matt jerked around suddenly but saw no one. Meanwhile, a surprised Meredith, clad once more in the memory of a Belmont Prep cheerleader uniform, abruptly stepped away from Matt and then waved bashfully at Dani, the only person other than Luke who could see her.
“Yeah,” Luke said slowly. “We … probably need to discuss that, Matt, seeing as how she’s gonna be with us for a while.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Goddammit, Luke, what have you done now?”
Meanwhile back in the gym…
Alone now, Bryce and Widget silently worked to restore the base’s defenses to their full functionality. Finally, Widget turned to her husband who seemed unusually pensive.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he answered. “I’m … I’m just gonna miss him, is all. I mean … you told me he was planning on this, but … I thought we’d have more time.”
Left unsaid was the extent to which Bryce considered Doc a father-figure, much more so than the mundane who’d sired him and then forgotten about him long before the day he went strange. He turned to look into his wife’s eyes.
“Do you really think we can keep the College going by ourselves without Doc here? Obviously, there’s going to be a lot of changes here in Boston.”
Widget walked over and hugged him. “We’ll be fine. We’ll handle it together. And sometimes, changes can be both needed and good.”
He thought about that and then nodded with growing confidence. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. And in the spirit of necessary and positive change, I think tomorrow I’m gonna retool my fiction cloak. It’s time for Bryce Caulfield to step up and finally graduate. And who knows, maybe earn an instant doctorate and magic himself up a tenured position here at MIT.”
Widget smiled. “That sounds like a very mature thing to do … Dr. Caulfield.”
“It is, isn’t it!” he smiled back at her. “See? I can be mature when I need to be!”
“I’m glad to hear it,” she said before kissing him on the cheek and then reaching up to whisper in his ear. “I’m pregnant.”
“Since when?” he asked after a brief coughing fit.
She thought for a moment. “About … eighteen months, I think. The day after the test came back positive, I used my magic to suspend the fetus’s development at the three-week mark … until you were ready. So … are you ready?”
Instead of answering, he just broke out into a broad grin and picked up his wife in a hug before twirling her around the gym in his arms. He was ready.
Outside the College …
The Sullivans had just made it out the main door of the College headquarters, with Ethan and Dani following behind. Then, they all stopped suddenly. In the middle of the parking lot sat a single Unity Blade SUV with its engine running and an impatient-looking Brother Falcon behind the wheel.
Halfway between the SUV and the entrance stood Brother Kestrel. Even though it was hours yet before dawn, the red-headed paladin was still wearing his black shades. He didn’t have his sword out, but Dani, deciding preparation was a virtue, pulled on her jacket and resumed the form of Electra Dellamorte.
“I’m not here to cause any trouble,” Kestrel called out. “I just … wanted to talk to Brother Shrike before I left.”
Ethan looked at the others and took a deep breath. “Wait here. If he does something … stabby .… I dunno. Avenge me or something.”
He walked across the parking lot towards the burly ex-soldier, stopping about five feet away.
“I told you already. It’s Ethan. I’m not Brother Shrike anymore. I never wanted to be in the first place.”
Kestrel nodded and pulled off his shades so he could look him in the eye. “I know, Ethan. But I think I’m entitled to know why.”
Ethan did a double-take. “Excuse me?”
“I stood up for you!” the other man said sharply. “All the other paladins said you weren’t Blade material, but I took you on as my squire anyway. I put up with every smartass comment from Falcon about my faith in you. I spent every spare minute training you, and then I flat-out lied to Mother Eagle about how your training was progressing. I did everything I could to help you embrace being a Stranger and a Blade.”
The ex-soldier’s eyes flashed in betrayal. “And the first chance you got, you shot me down with the magic wand I gave you so you could help that Sullivan kid and risk all of creation in the process! The least you could do is tell me why. Why did you throw everything I tried to do for you back in my face like that?”
As Kestrel spoke, the boy grew more and more angry. “Okay, fine! You want to know why I turned on you? Why I want nothing to do with the Unity Blade? I’M GAY!”
Kestrel seemed shocked by Ethan’s impassioned confession. Back in the SUV, his partner just shook his head silently. Undeterred, Ethan continued.
“Does that answer your question, Kestrel?!? I am 100% ho-mo-sexual! I am attracted to and desire to have sex with other men! And from what little I’ve seen of the Church of the Unity Blade, I don’t think there’s much future for a gay Stranger in a fundamentalist and fanatical magic cult! Do you understand now?!?
Kestrel gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I understand,” he said in a tight voice.
And with that, he took three quick strides forward, placed his hands firmly around a startled Ethan’s head, and planted a kiss on the young man’s lips. Ethan struggled … for a few seconds anyway and more out of shock than any real resistance.
To say he was surprised at how good a kisser the burly ex-Marine turned out to be was a serious understatement. As the kiss continued, Ethan found that he had no idea what to do with his hands, so he settled on putting them firmly on Kestrel’s hips.
Meanwhile, the reactions of the observers varied. Brother Falcon rolled his eyes, not in surprise at Kestrel’s actions so much as annoyance that his partner’s crush on Ethan was delaying him from a hot shower followed by a firm bed.
Electra, on the other hand, seemed to find the sight of two male Strangers making out very interesting. Matt stared slack-jawed, as until this moment, he had not even picked up on the fact that Ethan was gay. Luke and John simply found the scene amusing.
Eventually, Kestrel released his hold on Ethan and stepped back. He reached up and wiped his lips with his thumb as he re
garded the other Stranger.
“The Doctrine of Unity,” he finally said, “is silent on matters of sexuality and gender identity.”
He put his shades back on. “You’d have known that if you’d ever actually read any of the literature, I gave you.”
With surprising dignity, Kestrel turned and headed towards the SUV without looking back. Ethan watched him go and continued to watch as the SUV pealed out of the parking lot and into the Boston night.
“Huh,” he finally said, having been otherwise robbed of the power of speech.
7 November 2010
Duffy’s Tavern
Dorchester, Boston
As the Patriots finally scored a touchdown, Ellie and Brad Collins both jumped up from their seat and cheered, with Ellie nearly spilling her beer in her excitement. Laughing at her own clumsiness, she glanced around to see who’d noticed, and across the room, she saw three people sitting at a table – two young men barely out of high school (one wearing a Pats jersey with Tom Brady’s number, the other in black from head to toe) and a third older man who looked to be their father.
All three of them were staring at her. Then, the older man, who was wearing a vintage Red Sox cap, smiled warmly and raised his beer in her direction. The other two just looked at her oddly before turning away. Ellie shrugged and sat back down.
She had no idea that the three men included her dead husband and the two sons she’d miscarried some seventeen years before.
“We shouldn’t have come here,” Luke said unhappily.
“She can’t recognize us, Luke,” his father said. “That’s … that’s just what being a Stranger is.”
“I know that!” the necrotheurge snapped irritably before looking back to his mother sadly. “I know. We still shouldn’t have come.”
Matt had already told Luke about his own prior encounter with the former Ellie Sullivan on the night he went strange, but it still hurt more than he’d ever anticipated to see his own mother look at him without a hint of recognition. John reached over and squeezed his shoulder.
