by M. P. Taylor
They lifted me onto the stretcher.
Among the flickering light I saw a reddish stain, blood and lots of it. It pooled around Harold's headless body that I'd defiled.
A brief memory of my hands digging into his neck played in my mind. I shook my head at the lengths I went to claim victory. It hadn't been an elegant kill. That didn't mean I regretted it for a moment. Harold made me wish I knew necromancy so that I could bring him back and kill him again.
I spat upon his body.
“Did a number on him,” one of the men commented before giving me an approving nod.
I returned a cold smile, “Mors tua, vita mea.”
“Huh?”
“Your death, my life,” I offered a shrug and forced myself to look at Harold.
It was easier this time, I saw him less as human and more as an obstacle. No, not an obstacle...a monument. I had been victorious. I had lived. There was no shame in that.
“I grow tired of this place.”
That got a grunt of approval from the squad of soldiers, “Right boys. Bring her out. Eyes peeled. We scanned this sector but who knows what could be in this place.”
They carried me out into the lobby which had been turned into a sort of field hospital. A number of men, like the one who had found me, were helping my fellow wizards. They seemed prepared to tend the wounded. A number of portable I.V bags were put in place along with entire crates of medical supplies. It looked as though an entire F.E.M.A camp had just dumped everything into the lobby.
One of them stuck me with a needle. It felt good and thus began my lifelong friendship with painkillers, a bond that would transcend all others.
Renold Arbor came to visit me. Not right away, I'm sure he was busy commanding the legion of paramilitary soldiers who appeared to be combing over the entire building. My mind was in a haze of opiates to the point I didn't notice him until he knelt beside me and placed a hand on my shoulder.
I flinched, people touching me was an odd thing, “Glad to see you made it.”
“Always happy to help a damsel,” he said.
I shrugged off the remark, “Seems to me, you're just happy to clean up the mess you helped create.”
That got a slight narrowing of the eyes, “Hm, yes. You must understand, we are just men. We don't have arcane energy coming from our fingertips or centuries of knowledge to call upon. Our ability to fight is one gained by wealth and governance. When we were approached by that man, he promised us a chance to control spirits. Spirits, against which, we have little to no real defense. We kept an eye on him of course, but-”
“He gave you the slip and started using the power for himself,” I shook my head, “Free advice. Wizards always want something else, something unseen. Don't make deals with my kind, not unless you got a gun to their head or a contract bound by magic.”
“I thank you for the advice. I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me more?” he asked, an obvious offer of recruitment, “We could use people like you.”
“My life's complicated enough,” he nodded his head, apparently accepting rejection, but I quickly added, “You're helping my people out here, doing me a solid. Even if this was partially your fault, I suppose I owe you for coming through when I called you up. One favor.”
“That's more than fair, as you said, this is partially our fault, a misguided effort from a bunch of humans stumbling through the dark. Though my intelligence seems to indicated that others were funding the project. Any truth to that?”
For a moment, I didn't say anything. Arbor was an unknown factor, I didn't know the name of his organization, much less their motivation. For all I knew they could be the second coming of the inquisition, but he had helped me. I'd called him in the car and offered him a chance to make things right. He had accepted and helped to contain Harold's effort. For that alone I owed him some and more. Besides, I wasn't a justicar. Whatever I learned was knowledge of a private citizen, not as a member of the elder leadership.
“He played all sides. Used fear from the major players to get what he needed. The puppet pharmaceutical company and the like. Things that gave him access to humans he could sacrifice or give away to be possessed by spirits and then bound to his will,” I thought about not adding this last bit, but Arbor struck me as a man on the righteous path. I didn't trust him, but I trusted his intentions, “The enemy was Almushil. A demon.”
“A demon,” he mulled over that for a moment, running a hand along the scuff on his chin, “I see.”
With that, the old man rose from his position and told me one last thing before going back to work, “We've made contact with your elders. They've given us permission to contain the situation until they can mobilize a response. Rest up kid, you did good.”
I gave a thumbs up and closed my eyes.
By the time the rapid response team, a name that seemed far too ambitious, arrived I was well into a deep slumber. It was the sort of endless sleeping reserved for the dead or those who grew tired of pain. Nothing short of an explosion or a slap would break me out of my hibernation.
A slap was what I got. A light tap upon my cheek that felt more like being hit by a hammer – the bruises had began to form and their presence was felt more than seen.
“Ow,” I muttered while forcing my eyes open. I got sight of man in blackened coat with a heavy dark beard and a face tainted with deep lines. His expression was stern and surrounding him were a number of wizards, armed with staffs and vicious looks, “Its rude to hit a lady, you know.”
“You were sleeping,” he said without a hint of empathy, “You are Catherine Vane?” I nodded, “You will explain yourself at once. The outsiders say it was you who contacted them for help. Need I remind you that re-”
“Shut it,” he blinked at me, genuinely surprised at my words, “I saved this place. Yes, I called for help, I knew that Arbor and his people were in the area, they'd wanted to clean up this mess so I got them to help. If you have a problem with that... well then, next time there's a rogue wizard running around, I'll let him summon the demon. Now let me get my sleep.”
His hand lashed out and grabbed my throat.
I don't recall having been hit in the neck the hours before, but I must have – the whole area burned with pain at his touch. I brought my hand up and tried to break his hold but his grip was strong. I hear a flurry of movement and saw a number of Arbor's men readying their weapons and aiming them at the man who grabbed me.
He didn't care. The man continued to press down with even harder force while his eyes starred into mine. His expression was that of a monster. He would kill me, if he could, and I didn't exactly have magic at my beck and call.
There was a flash of light, a glint of steel, and then a voice. It was controlled, no hint of hatred, but still it chilled all who heard it, “Drop her.”
Natasha pushed her gun against the man's head.
It was strange to see someone who'd pointed a gun at me not long ago now rise to my defense. I wasn't complaining. Well, except about the hand that didn't seem to be letting up. I began to draw blood from the man, clawing into his skin.
Natasha thumbed back the hammer, a most intimidating sound, and one that I was happy to hear. The sooner that gun fired, the sooner I could breath again.
The man let go and stared down the gun, “You dare point a weapon at a member of the inner circle.”
I hardly heard the conversation as I was too busy trying to remember how to breath.
“Yes,” Natasha said with her gun still raised, “Anyone who threatens a member of the order is subject to immediate execution. Carrying out that sentence is the duty of any justicar. I'd advise you to not touch anyone else under my protection or I will use deadly force next time.”
He meet her gaze, past the barrel of the gun, “I'd like to see you try.”
I broke out in a bit of laughter, causing both of them to turn toward me, “What a good impression we must be making.”
The man stiffened a bit and looked at the number of
guns that were pointed at him. His own men had taken up positions, surrounding my attacker in a circle and apparently ready to use force if needed. Unless Arbor's men were using enchanted ammunition they wouldn't stand a chance. That didn't stop them from looking intimidating as hell in their military quality gear and professional stances. They were soldiers who were ready to fight to the death.
The man turned away from us, apparently having decided to withdraw for the day. None, not even Natasha, lowered her weapon until he left the room. Then, uneasily, they went back to the perimeter of the lobby.
Natasha was shaking her head while looking in that direction. I read her expression and commented, “With friends like these...”
That got the slightest hint of a smile on her features. She cleared her weapon and holstered it before turning back to me, “You should really learn to shut your mouth.
“And he should learn not to be so grabby.”
“That was Joshua being restrained,” she glanced back towards the doorway, ensuring he was gone, “Try not get on his bad side.”
“Pretty sure I already managed that.”
“No. He was just trying to put you in your place. If he wanted to kill you, he'd of snapped you neck and those of anyone who tried to stop him. That was rather nice as far as first meeting with him go.”
I raised an eyebrow, “You would have stopped him, right?”
“I would have tried,” that was a pleasant notion, “But you don't get to be the commander of the rapid response team without killing a lot of things... and he been holding the job for at least a hundred years now. The average lifespan of his career choice is somewhere around ten. Not good for your health, or for your manners.”
“I noticed,” a series of coughs came to me then. Natasha grabbed some water from a nearby table and helped me too it. My throat was dry once again so any liquid was a godsend. I thank her, “Don't suppose you talked to the docs?”
“Their medic said you'll be down for a few weeks,” Natasha gave a knowing smile, “But fleshcrafters will make the recover a few days. For the physical anyway, you don't have an aura. Did you burnout?”
“Had too. He needed to be stopped.”
Natasha understood, I could see it in her eyes, “Better than dead.”
“Burnout is odd. Could take a few days or a few months,” she place her one good hand onto my shoulder, “But it always comes back.”
Her word and touch made me relax, an unusual sensation. Perhaps it was the lack of such things in my youth. Theron was good with words but never was really one for hugging. Sure, he had given them, but only exceedingly rare occasions when they were truly needed. Gerald wasn't much better. I could count the number of times on one hand that he'd given me one. A stranger, someone like Natasha, showing a subtle motion of affection, a single touch...it was something I hadn't realized was missing from my life.
A strange wetness came to my eyes. I tried to blink it away but found it continued to run down my face.
Natasha laughed, “Gods, are you crying?”
“Must be the shot they gave me,” I couldn't meet her eyes.
“Must be,” Natasha agreed.
I changed the subject, “Is Gerald alright? Arbor's men said he made it out.”
“He's fine. Got most of the kids too,” I grimaced at the word 'most'. Natasha noticed my reactions, “You can't save everyone. Things here could have been much worse. The fact that we don't have a demon running around is sometimes good enough.”
“It isn't good enough. How did the elders let someone like Harold get past? He was a damned demon worshiper. I thought people like that were suppose to be doused in demonic energies – that there were test to weed people like that out.”
Natasha leaned forward a bit and spoke in a soft whisper, “There aren't. There is no such thing as 'demonic energies' that's just something we tell apprentices so that they don't get dumb ideas. If they knew there was no way to trace forbidden actions, well they might seek a quicker path to power. That's a secret. Tell anyone and I have to kill you.”
Her tone was utterly serious, “Your bedside manner is almost as bad as Harold's.”
“'I'm a killer, not a doctor,” good point, “as for Harold...I don't know. Someone must have helped smuggle him through. Someone high enough to fake test and provide testimonials. I'll be launching an investigation but you shouldn't worry about that right now. You need to rest up and get your magic back online. Until that happens, you're useless to me.”
“I'm always useless to you,” I said, daring to grin, “Comes with being a loner.”
“Sorry to break your plans but I'm deputizing you,” my grin turned to a scowl, “Don't give me that look. We need people. I just lost a third of my regional justicars. Besides, if Almushil returns he will be gunning for you. Demons don't let their marks go, especially when those makes get the better of them. You will need our help, just as much as I need yours.”
Reasonable people, the bane of my existence.
Her offer was sound. We had a common enemy and technically I was a member of the elders. If she pressed, she could force me to obey. Not that I was going to say no. I couldn't.
Irena, my vampiric master, had made me into her servant and, as part of that unspoken bond, I'd also become her spy. Promotions such as there would be incredibly useful to that end. More information about justicar operations would doubtless be of interest to the dragon's warlord.
“Fine,” I said with a bit of a grumble, “Just don't expect me to be happy about it.”
“I'll have your things found and brought to you, and I'll make sure that Joshua keeps his distance.”
The next two weeks were a blur of test, fleshcrafting and recovery. During that time they brought me up to one of the guest rooms, damn thing was bigger than my apartment.
Natasha also assigned some of her men to guard me. Without my magic I was as helpless as a puppy. Anyone in the building was probably more deadly than myself until my recovery was complete. She was worried that someone might try something given that there were many rumors about me being responsible for the chaos of the last few weeks.
I welcomed my bodyguards and took comfort in Natasha having hand picked them.
Today we made our way to Gerald's room. He had invited me over, saying something about dealing with a problem.
That worked for me. I was eager to see him as I hadn't had more than a few passing words since we parted. Partially, it was from him having recovered a lot faster. A good number of justicar's were down, and that meant he had work to do.
A lot of work.
The wards had kept most of the abyssal beings from escaping, but there had been a breach. Something powerful had torn a hole through one of the wards and made its way into the city. It wasn't alone either. Other things had followed it out. A stunning number of killings had occurred over the last two weeks with many calling it an unprecedented crime wave. Arbor's men and the justicars were running across the city, trying to keep the peace. All the overtime Gerald could ever want, if only they paid him.
The other reason Gerald had been absent had a name. Tessa.
Getting married was something of a no-no for us wizards. The reason was simple and sound. Couples tended to want to have children.
That was all fine and good until generations passed and selective breeding, eugenics and dark rituals cause a super child to be born. Archons, it was the name we gave such children – beings capable of great magical feats. There were several of them in the old world. Hell, their queen was one, but the elders didn't allow them. At best an archon was cut off from magic, worse case, executed.
Thus the rule of community was created. Bloodline records would be erased and all children were given to the elders to be raised for a period of ten years before a apprenticeship began with a master. No kids, not that you could keep anyway, and as such most wizards didn't get married.
Gerald and Tessa had gotten married.
It was a sweeping tale of romance that I simply d
idn't know. One day, after an extended leave, Gerald had returned with a ring on his finger and a woman clinging to his waist. Theron had been proud and I, a foolish teenager at the time, had been jealous. I didn't even like Gerald, not that way, but Tessa had made me envious. She still did.
Sure, me and Gerald had just saved the day and nearly gotten killed together, but did that matter? No, he spent every free moment with Tessa and, judging for the amount of time they spent in their room, it wasn't all professional.
I gave a quick knock on the door and Tessa answered – a tall woman of Latin decent, her hair short and features perfected by magic. We exchanged quick greetings, formal and polite. She didn't like me but she tolerated me for Gerald's sake. It was a small mercy that was only meet a handful of times in our lives.
“So what's this about?” I asked her as she pulled me into the living room. My guards stood place outside.
“Easier to show you,” we walked a bit more and she gestured to a dinning table that had no food but three people.
“Oh.”
The apprentices, the kids that had challenged me and Gerald.
There had been more of them at one point, but now there were only two. A young boy and girl, both who looked as though they belonged in a homeless shelter. Their clothing was in rags. It was the same getup I'd seen them in two weeks ago when I'd put the male under a geas. Given that I hadn't told them to move, I wager that they'd been subdued and brought her against his wishes. I was a bit surprised that they were alive at all. Figured that Natasha or Joshua would have offed the duo.
Across from them was Gerald. He looked more stern that I remembered, but that sternness wasn't aimed at me for a change. He was glaring at the kids. I liked watching Gerald scold far more than being scolded.
He nodded my way and gestured to the kids.
“Natasha wanted you opinion on what we should do with them. Did the basic stuff. Probed their mind, went through their memories,” he nodded to Tessa, “She did a background check and it looks like these two are runaways.”
