The Balance Omnibus

by Alan Baxter

  The wards around the camp were impressive in their size and complexity. It must be taking enormous energy to maintain them, allowing no one to pass the patrol boundaries unnoticed. The patrolling ONC members themselves almost superfluous in that respect. It further enforced the serious nature of their efforts that they took such intense precautions.

  All of which meant one thing. This was the best spot they were going to manage. A clear vantage point and she could see pretty much everything except inside the tents and the shed. Anything to see would be best seen from here. She found a natural crease in the landscape, a kind of miniature valley with scrub and tough grasses throughout. It could probably fit twenty five or thirty people hunkered down if they squeezed in close. If Cai Wu wanted that many of them together, this was the only option she could find. The others could wait further back and listen out for signals.

  Nodding to herself, Petra built subtle wards around the area. Shadows deepened and sounds muffled as she threw a blanket of protection over the small crease in the landscape. Then, moving silent as a summer breeze, she slipped away to report back to her Master.

  The Sorcerer smiled at the group of people before him. ‘You have all done wonderful jobs. I am proud of each and every one of you.’

  Lars and his brothers of the Eighth Degree, and the fourteen members of the Seventh Degree grouped behind them, smiled and nodded. For many of them, the praise of the Dominus was the only thing that mattered. They could gain enormous power, learn to control powerful magic, but it was all for naught if they didn’t have the approval of this man.

  ‘The time is almost upon us,’ the Sorcerer continued. ‘All of our hard work has been leading to this point. The hour of the Ascendance is at hand. It is going to take the combined power of all of us to contain and control that which we must do now, but I have the utmost confidence in all of you and in all of your members. It is hot here in this remote place and the day will only get hotter, but we must press on. Start to spread the word throughout the camp. At noon we will Gather. Have your members congregate before the shed here. I must stress something else. It is apparent that a lot of people have been enjoying themselves. That is, of course, a pleasure to see. To have just about every member of our Order from every corner of the globe Gathered in one place is unprecedented and certainly cause for celebration. Our family pleases me. But make sure it is known and understood that now the party is over. Now it is time to concentrate and get serious.

  ‘There are more of those interfering fools huddled up on the ridge a mile or so from here, but they can’t see anything from where they are. They dare not come too close and I’ll feel them if they do.’

  Frank raised one eyebrow. ‘Really? They’ve managed to follow us all the way here? Impressive.’

  ‘So it would seem, but they are nothing to be concerned about. Like flies at a picnic, annoying but no threat. Once we are done, let Yath-vados decide whether we swat them or not.’

  Frank nodded. ‘I could take a few people with me and get rid of them now. It’s barely dawn, there’s plenty of time.’

  The Sorcerer shook his head. ‘No. There are dozens of them and we can’t distract ourselves with a brawl now. Fuck them. If they come close, we’ll think again. Otherwise, let them huddle and worry about what it is we’re doing. Without their lynchpin they don’t worry me and you boys removed that lynchpin.’

  Frank grinned, feral. ‘Yeah, we did.’

  The Sorcerer clapped his hands together. ‘Right, here’s what needs to be done between now and noon. You all did well supplying sustenance for the child. Frank, there are two left, tied and bound. The child will not need to feed again. These last two will be used to further empower the Channel. Strip them, clean and prepare them.’

  Frank nodded and left the tent. The Sorcerer turned to Dieter. ‘You have built the frames I asked for?’ Dieter nodded. ‘Good. Set them up in front of the shed, all three of them in a line close to the doors, but not in the shadow of the structure.’

  Dieter nodded again and ducked out of the tent. The Sorcerer looked around at the rest of them still standing before him. ‘Lars, get the Channel and bring her to my tent. The rest of you, spread the word. We Gather at noon.’

  Lars stood at the doorway to his tent, hands on his hips, annoyed. Where was she? It had been getting ever harder to maintain the pretence of their relationship and it had been getting ever harder to keep an eye on her with everything else going on. Her power was remarkable, no doubt about that. He knew he had made the right decision. But her willful nature began to grind on his nerves. Now this was all he needed. That kid Jordan was supposed to be looking out for her. Lars closed his eyes and sent his mind out, searching through the camp. With so many people in such close proximity it was hard to make out anything for all the background noise. With a sound of annoyance he strode across the clearing and stalked between the tents, scouring with eyes and mind.

  Before long he could feel her somewhere nearby. Muffled by the presence of others, she was there nonetheless. A subtle wave of relief swept over him. It would not have done to have lost her now and he had harboured a slight fear that she had punished him by wandering into the dark. He was not sure that Jordan could have stopped her.

  Coming between two tents into a slight clearing he found a group of a dozen or so young people laying around the blackened coals of a fire that had burned out during the course of the night. Wisps of smoke and the faintest orange glows were visible among the remains of the logs in the half light of pre-dawn. The people around the fire slept, bottles and detritus from the night’s festivities laying among them. Jordan was there, flat on his back with his mouth open, Faith lying on her side, her head resting on Jordan’s arm. Lars reached down and shook her roughly. ‘Wake up!’

  Faith and Jordan both jerked awake. Jordan scrambled to a sitting position, his eyes wide with the fear of recrimination. Faith gave Lars a sour look and sat up sulkily, hugging her knees to her chest.

  ‘You said to make sure she didn’t leave the camp, Optimates,’ Jordan babbled. ‘She didn’t, sir, we were here all night.’

  ‘Obviously. Go on, Jordan, fuck off.’

  Jordan leapt to his feet and hurried away without another word. Faith scowled. ‘You can be a mean bastard,’ she said, her voice thick with sleep.

  ‘So this is how you show your displeasure with me? You come among these people and get pissed?’

  Faith flashed a sarcastic half-smile. ‘It was good, so fuck you.’ Her expression changed, the fearful eyes of a little girl showing briefly. ‘What’s happening, Lars? Why is it like this? I preferred it back in Sydney when it seemed like you cared for me.’

  Lars reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘I do care for you. You are very important. I’m just extremely busy with everything that needs to be arranged.’ He smiled, but it didn’t feel very convincing. ‘Come on, we need to get ready.’

  Faith resisted walking in the direction that he tried to guide her. ‘What am I supposed to do?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You talk about me being special, you showed me off to Dominus and I felt like I was being appraised. What am I supposed to be in all this?’

  ‘Integral. Come on, we are to go and meet with Dominus now. He will explain everything to you, I’m sure.’

  ‘I don’t want to.’

  Lars raised one eyebrow.

  ‘I want to stay with these people and watch like any other new recruit. I don’t want to be special, I don’t want to be integral.’

  ‘It’s too late for that. You are already so much more than these people. Come on, we have to see Dominus now.’

  ‘If you really loved me, you’d answer my questions and you’d let me do what I want to do. You wouldn’t be forcing me like this.’

  ‘We have to see Dominus now.’

  Faith stared hard at Lars. There was venom in her eyes. ‘Did you ever love me? Is any of this real?’

  Lars returned her stare for a few mo
ments. He put one hand up to her cheek and drew blood in his pocket with the other hand, unseen. As he uttered quiet, ugly words under his breath, Faith became limp. Her hard eyes flashed a moment of panic, then he caught her as she slumped towards the sandy ground. He cast his mind out to his Master, She begins to resist, Dominus.

  It was inevitable. No matter. Bring her to me.

  18

  Isiah rose from his healing meditation and took a long, deep breath. ‘Time to go to work,’ he said to no one in particular. Letting his mind and his molecules vibrate apart, he Travelled. He reappeared in the mortal Realm in the place that Gabriel had snatched him from, the Gather room of the ONC house in Sydney. As the heaviness of corporeal presence dragged him together he crouched, senses alive, looking, feeling all around. Nothing. He relaxed, stood up straight. He had anticipated no presence left behind, but it paid to be cautious. For a moment he flinched inside, remembering Filthy Frank’s leering face, that self-satisfied smugness, the smoking barrel. Frank had some incredible stealth skills, there was no doubt about that. Possibly better than Isiah’s own. Isiah imagined himself beating Frank to a bloody pulp and sending him off to meet this god that he seemed so taken with. The desire for revenge was strong and Isiah was no paladin. He had had to do dark things in his unnaturally long life and many of them pained him to this day. But some things he revelled in and removing murderous bastards was one of them. Especially bastards that had murdered him. Frank was going to pay with his life for what he had done. But the first priority was the Order as a whole.

  A warm feeling replaced the ice cold desire for Frank’s death as Isiah thought of Petra. He had no idea where she was or what she was doing. With any luck the Umbra Magi had managed to learn more of the ONC in his absence. He didn’t want to go shouting his return to the universe. He could probably find Petra that way, but would find everyone else too. More to the point, everyone else would find him. If the ONC thought they had killed him, then he could use that to his advantage. For all their stealth and care, he and Petra had obviously not been careful enough. The ONC had known he was stalking them and had laid a trap for him. As far as they were concerned, it had worked.

  But it was frustrating. He felt out of the loop. The only place he could think of was the Temple of the Dragons. With any luck there would still be at least someone there that knew what was happening. Isiah gathered his will and Travelled.

  Petra staggered as dizziness swept through her mind. She sat heavily onto the sandy floor, unable to respond for several seconds. Eventually she yelled out into the ether, You were dead. I felt you die!

  I know. I thought I was dead too. Fortunately I have some very good friends.

  You son of a bitch, you let me think you were dead!

  Well, sorry about that. Next time I get killed, I’ll keep it under my hat.

  Tears were running down Petra’s cheeks. Tears of joy. Of relief. She laughed through the tears despite herself. Make sure you do that!

  Where are you? Can I come to you?

  Not yet, I’m too close to the camp. Let me move.

  The camp?

  Wait, I’ll explain everything soon.

  She hopped silently to her feet and ran in a swift, low jog away from the valley edge. She needed to let Cai Wu and the others know about the vantage point that she had found, but this was more important. Imagine their faces when she returned with Isiah! Perhaps their prophecies were accurate after all. What better example of Isiah’s power and immortality than this? She had to admit despair had begun to take a hold of her heart as she sat there watching the camp. She was convinced that the best they were going to be able to manage was to watch and record what happened. But not now. If Isiah was back, the game had changed again. She scurried through the bush then stood and began to run as fast as was safely possible on the dark, uneven terrain. She needed to get a couple of kilometres away so that the MageSign of Isiah’s arrival didn’t alert anyone. Her heart sang as she ran.

  Two Italian backpackers trembled as Frank approached them across the large tent, tears streaming from terrified eyes. They were securely bound, hands wrapped tightly in thick canvas to prevent them from worrying at the knots, then tied behind their backs. Their ankles were bound together and rope connected the wrist and ankle bindings together, pulling their feet up behind them, forcing them lie on their side, trussed like Christmas turkeys. Their shoes had been removed and dirt caked every inch of them from where they had struggled and sweated on the sandy dirt floor.

  The young man began babbling in Italian, completely incomprehensible to Frank. ‘Shut up, I don’t speak wop,’ he growled as he approached them, putting down the bucket he carried. A cloth floated on the surface of the water in the bucket.

  The young man tried to speak in English, though fear seemed to have stripped him of his skills. ‘Why you do? What for?’

  Frank laughed. ‘Shut the fuck up. You’d probably be even more scared if I actually told you what was in store for you. In truth, I don’t know the exact details myself, but it’ll be delicious. Our Dominus has great plans for you. I’m just here to get you ready. You know what? I think I’ll get your girlfriend ready first.’

  Anger bubbled up through the young backpacker’s fear. He struggled harder against the ropes. ‘No! Fuck! No, you stop!’

  Frank grinned and dragged the young woman towards him as she tried to wriggle back from his grasp. With a deft motion he whipped his large, shining knife from the back of his jeans and yanked hard on the ropes at her ankles, pulling her to him. He cut the rope that pulled her feet back, rolled her onto her back and knelt astride her hips. She screamed, shutting her eyes, squeezing tears from them. Frank laughed, groping her breasts. ‘What exactly do you think I’m planning, eh?’

  The young man shouted incoherently again, spitting in his rage, struggling to get to his knees to help his girlfriend. Without even looking at him Frank pistoned out one hand, cracking the man across the jaw with the butt of his knife. The man fell back with a grunt, dazed. Frank reversed his grip on the knife and sliced straight up the girl’s t-shirt, pulled it away. He did the same to her bra, wet with the sweat of fear and the outback summer. Laughing he groped her now naked breasts, looking at her boyfriend as he did so. The girl turned her face away, crying out in anguish. The young man struggled to get up again and Frank once more struck him to the ground. He lay there stunned, blood running from the corner of his mouth and one nostril.

  Frank stood up and ran his knife blade straight up one leg of the girls jeans, then the other, then her underwear. All she wore were the ropes that bound her wrists and ankles. Frank took the cloth from the bucket and began to wash the desert dirt and sweat from her, violating her at every opportunity as he did so. Then, grinning at her boyfriend, he sliced the ropes that bound her ankles and violently raped her. The Dominus had not forbidden any fun while he did as he was tasked. Repeatedly he hit the young man, never hard enough to knock him out, but hard enough to keep him ineffectual. Eventually he dragged the girl up onto a chair and washed the dirt from her back and the back of her legs and buttocks. Taking a long rope he rebound her ankles and tied her to the chair.

  He then turned his attention to the man, cutting away all of his clothes as he had the girl’s. Using the same cloth and bucket he roughly washed the young man down. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, laughing. ‘I ain’t gonna fuck you too. I don’t swing that way.’ Eventually he tied the man to another chair next to the sobbing girl, then stood and thought for a moment. ‘I don’t want you two rolling onto the floor and getting all messed up again,’ he said, largely to himself. Dragging the two chairs over to one of the large tent poles in the middle of the Dominus’s quarters, he tied them back to back either side of the pole.

  He grinned. ‘That’s better. So, stripped and cleaned. Now to prepare. Do you know what that means?’ He sunk his face close to the girl’s own, but her eyes remained squeezed shut as she sobbed and trembled. He walked around to stare at the young man instead. ‘Do
you know what being prepared means?’

  The man growled like a dog and spat in Frank’s face. ‘Fuck you! I fucking kill you!’

  Frank laughed, wiping his palm across his face. ‘I hardly think so.’ He took his knife in hand again and pointed it between the young man’s eyes. The man drew his head back as far as the pole behind him would allow, which was not far. Without taking his eyes from the young man’s, his stare piercing to the soul, Frank lowered the knife and pressed its sharp point against the man’s upper chest. With a slow, deliberate motion he dragged the knife point down and around, carving a shallow circle into the flesh of the man’s chest and stomach. The young man howled in agony.

  Grinning, Frank stepped back and admired his work. ‘Not a bad circle that. You know, they say that the real test of a natural artist is in whether or not they can draw a near-perfect circle freehand. I once read that Leonardo Da Vinci could draw an absolutely perfect circle.’ He laughed to himself, tipping his head to one side, observing his own handiwork. Blood flooded down the man’s chest and abdomen, obscuring a lot of the original cut as the man panted and grimaced against the pain. ‘Maybe not Da Vinci,’ Frank muttered, ‘but not bad.’

  He walked around to stand before the girl. The man yelled out, craning to see over his shoulder, his voice thick with pain and tears. ‘No please. No her. Do me anything, but nothing her. Let her go, please, let her go!’