by HDA Roberts
Probably.
Well... for a while anyway. They were immortal and so was I; justice could afford to wait a bit. Hell, the good money was on my becoming an unstoppable horror at some point; so, no doubt, I’d pay them a visit then, and the problem would be neatly solved without anyone having to wring their hands over it.
After doing what I could, I leant back in my desk-chair and glared at the phone for a long while. I hated that, feeling like there was nothing I could do. I glared some more, hoping that an option would present itself, but nothing came to mind. I forced myself to turn away from it, to put it from my mind. Simply to distract myself, I started sifting through the course materials for my summer classes.
My university friends were home with their families for the holidays, but seeing as my family was either busy, incarcerated or wanted nothing to do with me, I’d found myself with nothing to do until the next academic year began.
Almost out of desperation, I’d booked myself in for two holiday courses at Stonebridge University. The summer mini-semester started the next day (a Monday), and I had already done a lot of the preliminary reading, but there was always more knowledge to devour, especially with these subjects.
I’d decided on Advanced Telepathy and Introductory Void Magic. The former just built on what I already knew, but the latter was an unknown to me. Based on Space Magic, which wasn’t my best subject, Void Magic was all about the study and creation of interdimensional pockets. If Mira’s little demonstration was anything to go by, the applications for this were endless, and I was really looking forward to sinking my mental teeth into something so abstract and unfamiliar.
I pulled books from my shelves and covered my desk with papers and notes, but it wasn’t enough. Even as I studied, my mind was drawn away. Crystal had helped me pick those modules, moulding my schedule around trips she’d been planning for us. Foreign travel was a lot easier when you had a Portal-trained Magician with you (as long as you didn’t mind flouting the occasional passport law... or all of them), and she’d had a mind to show me all her favourite places.
But now...
I sighed.
"She really was all wrong for you, you know," Tethys said, startling me. She’d snuck back into my library while I was distracted.
I smiled; she always seemed to know what I was thinking.
"You say that about every girl I go out with."
"And, not to put too fine a point on it, have I ever been wrong?"
I muttered something vaguely defiant, but she had a point, unfortunately.
"What was that?" she said, smirking in that sly way I enjoyed so much.
"Never mind," I grumbled.
She came over and planted a little kiss on my cheek, "All part of the plan," she whispered before sidling back out the door.
"That's not nice!" I complained.
"Not trying to be nice."
I sighed. I just couldn’t win; they were all out to drive me insane.
Chapter 8
Alright, breakups happen, girlfriends try to kill you and yet the show must go on.
Monday morning; new classes, new opportunities!
Well, for me, anyway...
"Boring," Cassandra complained as we Portalled our way onto the campus grounds, my class prospectus in her hands.
"Then why come yourself? You have ten other Wardens ready to do your bidding."
"Twelve, but they're not as good as me, and you just pissed off an entire Vampire House," she said, glaring around us like every bush contained an attacker.
The Campus was a little quiet, as was to be expected with all the halls of residence empty, but most of the departments remained active in some form or another, either providing holiday classes or conducting research. The Magic School, in particular, was a hive of activity.
The building was old and majestic, two hundred metres wide and three stories tall, built of clean white stone. The interior was a mix of modern efficiency and ancient grandeur; glass, steel and chrome in the teaching areas, dark woods and antiques in the offices and public areas. I was rather fond of the place.
The Seminar Room for my first class was on the second floor, at the east end, overlooking one of the larger quads, with its collection of student-centric shops, cafes and small restaurants. When we got there (with only a little more complaining from Cassandra) the room was half full of Magicians. I recognised three of the students from last year’s classes and nodded to them as I found a seat at the back.
All of the students were older than me, quite a bit older, in two cases. That might have caused some resentment before it became common knowledge that I was the First Shadow. Things had been much easier since them, I have to admit. People even seemed to be less terrified of me. It was actually quite the improvement; I felt like an idiot for keeping my identity under wraps for so long.
"How are you even upright?" Cassandra whispered to me. "Normally I can't get you moving before ten."
"Are you going to be this grumpy all day?"
"Probably," she said, eyeing my satchel in a rather definitive way.
I sighed and rummaged through the bag, coming out with one of the chocolate bars I kept around as an emergency offering for the walking-stomach.
"You think to buy my good graces with this cheap offering?" she said with a glare (somewhat ruined by the fact that said glare was locked onto the chocolate and not me).
"It's not cheap; it's Rosewood's, your favourite,” I said, turning the bar so she could see the label.
Not only were they not cheap, they were almost ruinously expensive; made only by a small family-owned shop in Venice. I had to bribe that family with a ludicrous amount of money to get them to produce enough of Cassandra’s favourite type to keep her happy, and even more to export it (which they considered to be a crime against chocolate; something about air pressure and temperature change).
"You have earned a brief respite," she said grudgingly, tearing the wrapper open and gobbling up that chocolate so quickly it couldn't have touched the sides on its way down.
I winced, she could at least pretend to savour it!
"Thank you," she said in small voice, thumping me gently on the shoulder.
"Welcome. There's more at home."
"You mean to tell me that you didn't bring more with you?" she asked dangerously.
I sighed and handed her the second one just as the professor came in.
I was disappointed that it wasn't Amy Porter, my professor from last year, and someone I was very fond of. This teacher was a man who looked to be in his middle ages, a strong Wizard with a Telepathic Affinity (he was only the fourth such person I'd ever met; that Affinity being quite rare).
He recognised most of his class, and he introduced himself to those he didn't. His name was Elias Rohm, and he spoke with the hint of a German accent. He was enthusiastic and seemed quite approachable. He explained the basis of the course, which was to get a deeper understanding of the way the Human mind was constructed and how all the disparate parts worked together to produce its complex whole.
After his outline, he brought out a brain-shaped crystal. I recognised it as a kind of Mental Simulator, designed to mimic the structures of the mind, so that students could practice repairing mental problems without potentially damaging the brain of a living person (they used to use murderers and other high-end criminals for these demonstrations, but then the human rights people got involved and now we have brain crystals...).
"If you're here, then you recognise this," he said with a smile. He used a drop of Magic to light up his crystal and project the image of a human mind above it. It looked like a glittering, massively complex, web, beautiful in its squishy way.
"And you'll also know that the human mind is a complicated combination of thought, memory and physiology, and that's just the Pureborn! The Magician's brain is no different in structure, but the way it works is. A little web of brain cells, normally dormant in Pureborn, is what allows us to use our powers."
He demons
trated the difference, overlaying different colours on the projection in front of him.
"Ninety percent of us would never even notice these differences, as they are buried well below the surface of the brain's everyday functions and simple thought. But I will teach you to understand those differences, to comprehend the underlying architecture; to read all of this information, digest it, and use it to help your subjects."
He started getting more technical after that. He described the various layers of the mindscape and explained how they affected the body and brain before giving us more reading material and letting us loose for the day. Even that brief introduction had taken up the full two hours, and my head felt packed with information.
"Did you understand any of that?" Cassandra asked, stifling a yawn as we emerged into the sunshine.
"Of course. I'm clever," I said, bracing myself for the inevitable swat.
What I got instead was a tackle.
Magicians, as a rule, weren't especially imposing, at least not physically. There were exceptions to that rule, of course; Kron, for example. She was born in a time and place where women were little better than property, she'd had to be tough from the instant she opened her eyes, and she’d only gotten tougher since. I was pretty sure she could beat the stupid out of a T-rex with her bare hands and still have enough oomph left afterwards to take on its twin.
Cassandra Vallaincourt was cut from that same cloth, and, in some ways, was even more dangerous.
Even at rest, her reflexes were lightning-fast. Kandi had tried to play a prank on her once... and only once. It was a good plan, actually, involving jam, feathers and several wide-angled cameras. It would have been stunning...
To this day, nobody knows how Cassandra moved fast enough to not only to get Kandi in the way of those two streams of mess, but also to get the redhead’s shorts down at the same time (which made the resulting cleanup even less pleasant).
Some of it was down to her part-Demigod nature, but the rest was simply Cassandra, always ready, always primed for action... always suspicious. It was sad, in a way, and I was working on it, but it made her a rather spectacular bodyguard.
Even so, even with all Cassandra’s advantages, I was also very lucky. If the Vampire had been using supersonic ammunition, I'd certainly have died. Thankfully, it was just a regular rifle bullet, meaning that Cassandra heard it in time to react.
We hit the ground as the bullet zipped through the spot where my head had been and raised a puff of dry earth twenty metres away.
"Shields!" Cassandra barked. She had her own in place before I'd even taken my first breath to clear the grass out of my mouth.
I put up a simple Will Shield. Cassandra took a quick look around and then moved, little more than a white streak as she leapt towards a little restaurant across the quad from us. I cast Mage Sight in time to watch her powers pulse, then hurl her up the side of the building.
Seconds later, I heard a very high, very piercing, shriek that told of great, testicle-related pain (which made me wince in sympathy, but not too much; the fellow had tried to kill me).
I almost relaxed, but then another attack materialised, coming up behind me, hard and fast. Three Vampires with Spelleaters and shotguns got in close and I nearly panicked as my Magic drained out through my Will Shield at a horrific rate, made worse by the double boom of their weapons that sent highly-illegal slugs at my flickering defences.
Again, I got lucky. If I'd been behind anything other than a Will Shield, those Spelleaters would have killed my defences stone-dead and their sawn-off shotguns would have cut me in half.
Knowing that made it made it much easier to... pre-emptively return the favour, let’s say.
Shadows lashed out from within my sleeves (a bright day at the end of June tended not to create too much gloom to work with, but there's always a Shadow somewhere). My finesse had grown since I'd started at the University, and so I was able to render those Vampires down into relatively large chunks without sacrificing too much power, though I may have been a little nastier than I’d meant to be (people trying to assassinate me tended to put me in a bit of a mood).
Instead of taking one or two limbs apiece (which they could have regenerated in a week or two), I ended up giving them much the same treatment I'd given Vallan.
Two of them still had the wherewithal to scream, unfortunately, though the third had the decency to pass out. I used my Will to take their Spelleaters from them before throwing Coma Hexes into their heads (I was faster at those, too).
Cassandra reappeared, dragging her Vampire by the foot, a Spelleater twirling around her finger. He was... not in a good way, bleeding from a hundred different cuts as well as a nasty stab wound to his groin. He’d left quite the grisly trail from the coffee shop to where I was standing with my own victims.
"Amateurs," Cassandra spat.
I handed the Spelleaters I’d taken over to her and she pocketed them. We’d made quite a bit of money over the years from the Spelleaters of people who’d tried to kill me.
"Nearly had us, though."
"You. They nearly had you. I'd have been fine."
"Would it kill you to preserve my ego?"
"That bloated thing is too big already. My mission statement is to pop it as much as possible."
I sighed and pulled my mobile, dreading the upcoming conversations. You just had to know someone was going to try and make this my fault...
While I made my calls, Cassandra dragged the living remains to an empty room in a nearby building. I also woke the eldest Vampire so that Cassandra could ask him some questions. I didn’t watch, but the sounds coming out of that room told me that she was not being gentle about it. I might have felt bad about that once upon a time, but that was a long time ago, and... well, assassins.
I burned the severed limbs, as they were drawing stares (and flies). People had briefly run away from the commotion (and gunshots), but now they were coming back. One young man had already thrown up and the smell of that, coupled with the stench of severed Vampire bits, was sending me in the same direction (hence the fire).
Campus Security finally showed up, but their numbers were greatly reduced during the holiday, so they only had a couple of men to spare. They started doing official things and the place soon started to empty again, much to the protest of the students (who were, by nature, a curious lot).
The Supernatural Crime Authority (SCA) said they’d be sending some poor fellow to come and scoop the Vampires into a suitable sack in a little while, which would take them out of my hands. But until then, I had time to get some answers, though it wouldn't take a detective to figure out the motive behind this attack.
I made my way into Cassandra’s makeshift dungeon.
"You're dead, Scum!" the Vampire snarled as soon as he saw me. From what Cassandra told me later, this was the most polite thing the Vampire had said since he’d woken up.
"Look," I said, trying to put on a reasonable tone, "I'm presuming you're with Aurelia?"
He glared.
"I can take that information from your mind, but I'd rather not. Let's just have a civil conversation before the SCA comes to take you away for attempting to murder an Archon, okay?"
"You... you're not going to kill me?" he asked incredulously.
"Of course not. I don't kill people."
"Really?! Then why is our Elder dead? You murderous filth!"
Cassandra poked him with a nasty-looking knife and he subsided, but he didn't stop glaring.
"Look, I don't know what they told you, but Vallan had gone insane. He'd opened a Portal to a place where there is nothing but evil and things that want to consume this world, do you understand? He was fuelling that Portal with his Life Force. If I hadn't killed him, thousands, if not millions would have died. Vampire, human, mutant-ostrich, those monsters would have eaten everything.”
He looked confused for a moment.
"You're lying,” he said finally.
"Why would I? What would I have to gain?
"
"You're just trying to stop us from killing you."
I sighed, stepping away.
"Have you heard of the Half-born?" I asked, almost casually, turning back to him.
"The what?" he replied, his face scrunching at the sudden segue before he turned to cough up a gobbet of blood.
"Exactly. The Half-born were the last non-human race to successfully assassinate an Archon. Originated in Central Africa, nasty little creatures. They resembled modern Pygmies in overall shape, aside from the horns. They also had a powerful supernatural bite that could cripple anything with a Well; very dangerous. They managed to corner one of the First Shadows and... well, now they don't exist anymore."
I leant down so that I could whisper, making sure to meet his eyes, "And that was a First Shadow that the others didn't even like. Can you imagine what they'd do to you, to your House, your race, if you managed to kill me?"
He actually trembled.
"Zero tolerance policy. We have one for a reason. Kill me and you all die, as a warning to the next thousand people like you not to try it again, understand?"
He nodded.
"I killed Vallan to save a city. I would do it again if I had to.”
It surprised me, but as I was saying it, I realised that this was actually true.
“Now, I am a patient man, but I am rapidly approaching my last nerve where Vampires are concerned. You will talk to your people, you will warn them not to approach me again. You will impress upon them the very dire situation they find themselves in. Do you understand me?"
He nodded again.
"Good. This is the Aurelia’s final warning. If I have to have this conversation again, the gloves will come off."
He nodded a final time and I put him back to sleep before having a discreet little rummage through his memories. There wasn’t much there, just an order to come to Stonebridge and put a bullet through my head. The order had been given by one of the Vampires from the reunion party, but not one of the Elders. I might have been hopeful that this was an isolated incident, but that was naive. I suppose it could have been a small group of fanatics, loyal to Vallan, but it was far more likely that the Elders were simply relaying their orders through a middleman to avoid the retaliation of my Circle. It wouldn’t surprise me if the Vampire I’d seen in my attacker’s memory was already dead, or had his mind wiped at the very least.
