Korezeloth was not what I would like to call a safe driver. In fact, it was almost any wonder he had ever driven a motor vehicle before in his eons of existence.
Nevertheless, his erratic manner of driving allowed me to disperse all the Post-Its and papers before the deluge began.
It was a peculiar rain—it seemed as if the sky itself rebelled from isolating the molecules to make moisture. That had to explain the extra time needed to bring forth the torrents necessary for what I had imposed into the spell.
“Never been much of a fan of rain,” Korezeloth said.
“Really? I love the rain.” I let the last florescent orange Post-It blow out of my hands and into the sky. “Why don’t you like it?”
Though I wasn’t looking directly at him, I could feel him take his eyes off the road and give me a once-over.
“Creature of the desert. Warm and dry,” he replied.
Then how did he end up in Massachusetts of all places?
Almost as if he could hear my thought, he continued. “Egypt. Spend a few thousand years in North Africa, you get to longing for other places. Other people. Green. Doesn’t mean I like what makes it green, though.”
“And I don’t suppose the music scene is very good there?” I knew Shred enjoyed playing with Korez, whatever the case.
“It’s getting better. Good metal bands around Alexandria, Cairo. Even Tunisia.” He was grinning again, though I wasn’t sure how I could tell. Maybe I was just imagining it. Korezeloth turned off the headlights and took a sharp turn into an open area about two miles from Gobekli Tepe. As he did so, he pushed the button to turn on the radio. It was playing satellite radio, but a thrash metal band singing in Turkish assaulted my eardrums.
I did not, however, recoil. While thrash was not exactly my cup of tea, years around Shred had acclimated me to all manners of music. Some of it I even relished immensely.
I found myself smiling as madly as Korezeloth as he drove through the dark toward the mount. About a mile away, he stopped the car. “Time for your adventure. Hearken to whatever wits are about you. I hear you have many.”
“Ugh. That implies I’m good at thinking on my feet. Despite the stores of knowledge in here,” I sighed and gestured at my head with an index finger, “it takes me a bit to do something with it.”
Korez nodded. “Time’s a-wasting. Message your comrades and tell them to start toward the ruins.”
I sighed even more heavily than the last one. “Yes. I suppose you’re right.” I texted Shred and Cool Luke that I was starting. I looked at Korezeloth once more. “I hope we get through this relatively unscathed. I’d love to hear your story.”
I didn’t wait for a reply, but exited the vehicle and quietly shut the car door.
There was no way to know which tack or direction Korezeloth was going to take, but he would not be on the same trajectory as me. And, when it came to it, I likely would not be able to see him either.
I heard his SUV drive off, though the rain pounded my hat, my makeshift poncho, and the ground with such force that the sound of the engine disappeared in only a second or two.
The noise of the rain was something I had not taken into account when making the plan. Hearing Shred’s magic through the din would be difficult.
I slogged on, noticing my boots getting caked with mud as thick as tar sludge.
Just as I crested the last hill to overlook the ruins, I heard something over the rain. It was music. More than that, it was mandolin music played percussively and it sounded like it was in an echo chamber. In spite of the rainfall, standing at the top of the hill the treble tones of the instrument reverberated against the surrounding hills in a manner that could only have been augmented by some sort of spell work.
I felt a measure of relief that a portion of our plan remained in effect. I was even almost leisurely in my descent down the hill.
The panic did not set in until massive floodlights came on, illuminating the entirety of the ruins with day-like clarity. And then the very same kind of metal Korezeloth played for me in his car, came on via loudspeaker.
Not only did they know we were coming, they were, at least somewhat, prepared for it.
I looked around for where Shred might be playing, but hoped that once the new music played, Shred took cover.
I scanned around the area looking for Cool Luke. Instead I saw 20 or so men suddenly spring into action after Shred’s spell was broken.
Their clothing was slicked black with the rain and one of them was bellowing orders over the sound of heavy metal music.
I beat the panic welling down. I knew we would meet with resistance, I just wasn’t sure with what kind. Removing Shred’s ability to lull them into submission did not make us helpless. I found myself digging with my hand in the back pocket of my jeans fishing out a Sharpie and pad of Post-It notes.
With the rain still coming in torrents, it took the group several moments to notice me. I paused, wrote nearly the entire incantation for cloaking on my skin and ducked behind a heap of excavated brick. I removed the poncho and hat, sure to leave the very tip of the hat poking above the pile, should they wonder if I were still there. I crouched down and finished my cloaking spell.
Having taken the poncho off, I was no longer entirely waterproof. I took great care to mark my skin on my hip so it would be covered by my satchel and would therefore have less chance of a chance of washing off.
I did not expect the lights to work as well as they did, but it gave me hope that it would be enough to find Gavin and Saul and get the hell out.
There were various tents pitched around the center of the ruins. I moved toward them hoping to see…something.
Before attempting to crawl beneath one of the tents, I decided to see why the tents were set up in an array that seemed to surround the temple markers.
I hoped not to witness some ritualistic sacrifice of both Saul and Gavin, but knew that rEvolve would have nothing so religious-looking. Instead, what I beheld was not ritualistic at all. The central area was covered by a canopy that crossed the entire circumference of the circle and was therefore protected from the elements.
While I saw some of the 20 individuals scurrying about, there were more here—digging. Given that no one could see me, I inched closer to eavesdrop on the figure issuing orders to the laborers and yelling at one of the men clad in black who, no doubt, came back to inform him of our arrival.
“We’re almost there!” he screamed. At first I thought it was raining under the canopy, but the man was spitting at his underling in a kind of nervous rage. I did not recognize him—he was someone entirely new.
It wasn’t much of a surprise. He was easily over six feet tall, red-haired with a receding hairline. He was not a fat man. Nor was he muscular. He was thick with age and bared the mass of someone who was habitually sedentary.
I removed my phone to snap some photos, especially of him and some of the others and sent a quick text to both Cool Luke and Shred telling them my approximate whereabouts.
I leaned in closer to look at what they were digging toward and to listen.
“The radar indicates we’re less than a foot away. We’ll keep digging!” shouted the bulky man over the music. “Do something to distract them. We’re under orders to keep the woman alive. The other two are insignificant!”
The man to whom he was speaking looked like he was contemplating a response, but thought better of it and walked off.
“Here! I’m hitting stone!” someone from within the hole declared.
The bulky man looked at his watch before walking to the pit in the center. Meanwhile, I took the opportunity while everyone was distracted to slip into the tent nearest to me. No one was inside. I hurried out of that one and over to the one closest. It, too, was devoid of inhabitants.
More of the drenched rEvolvers filed in to check out the hullabaloo, only to turn around. I checked my phone to see if either Shred or Cool Luke messaged back. Cool Luke said he was headed my way. Shred did not return
a message, so I asked Cool Luke to skulk around and make sure Shred didn’t need any back up. He answered with a simple Yes.
There was someone sitting on the ground next to the next tent that I did not notice until several feet away. He was armed. I went around the tent, scribbled a sleeping spell on a Post-It and approached him from the other side to more ably come up behind him.
He slumped over as soon as I patted the Post-It on his back. I used his rifle to prop him enough that it didn’t look like he was laying down. I feared for the noise and grunts I was making, but between the downpour and the heavy metal music continuing to play, no one was hearing anything at all from my direction.
Once inside the tent, I saw that it was lit with various gas-powered lanterns rather than anything electric.
In the center of the tent, a man sat on a safari chair and wrote on a folding table. He crumpled the paper, turned around and threw it directly at me.
“Gavin?”
Then it was my turn to sleep.
* * *
By the time I came to, my hands and feet were bound. I could only assume that the spellcraft that cloaked me was also cleaned. I moved from my side to my buttocks, desperate to feel the bump of a pad of Post-Its in my back pocket and above all, a Sharpie.
I felt nothing. I looked around for my satchel, but saw that it was on top of the table I had just seen…Gavin?
“Gavin?” I writhed on the ground to look around.
“I’m here, Grey. No one is going to hurt you.” Gavin Moniz removed a pair of sunglasses that he had etched to recognize magic. My cloaking spell could not have hid me from him. “You know, your hue of purple is more distinctive than the other ones I’ve seen.” Gavin looked healthier and more robust than the last time I had seen him at the villa outside of Paris several months before. His hair was longer and pushed back. He wore a cream-colored linen shirt through which I could clearly make out the tattoos that his former master and lover gave him to augment his strength and stamina.
He looked more than healthy—he almost looked happy.
“Gavin, what’s going on?” I was lost in my consternation. Gavin was supposed to be here with Saul. This was a rescue mission. Where was Saul? Why the hell was Gavin working with rEvolve?
Gavin crouched next to me. He smelled clean. He was an attractive man by any standard. Unlike when I first met him—when he saved my life back at the New York trivium—Gavin was a man living outside of his skin. Now, he exuded confidence.
Almost as if to reassure me of my conclusion, he smiled. It was disarming.
“Grey, I would have thought you would have put it together by now?” He no longer looked like the stoic, dispassionate Gavin. This was a new creature entirely
He had purpose.
“Whatever they’re selling, you’ve bought into.” I craned my neck to look around the tent. No sign of Shred or Cool Luke, thank goodness. “And—”
“It’s bigger than that, Grey. There are things at play here we just didn’t know then. I…” He stood and went to the table behind him pulled the chair out and sat down. He looked at me once more. “We are members of The Triginta, Grey—the 30 Mages. The Council…”
“The Cor,” I corrected him. It was one thing for him to think me uninformed. I was not willing to let him know to what extent my ignorance ran.
He leaned forward on the chair, resting his palms on his knees. “The Cor. Yes. So you know?”
I took a gamble. “I know The Cor is working with rEvolve to eradicate the gods in some misguided attempt to usher in some golden age of the human being.”
“Ah, so you don’t actually know. I guessed as much. You see, it’s not as simple as that at all. The first thing you should know is that rEvolve was just a subgroup of The Entelechy. It’s been The Entelechy pushing along these events with the help of some of the 30. Donald Tolliver was a member of The Cor, but he wouldn’t see reason. He couldn’t. Wait, let me pontificate, if I may.” This time, he leaned back and looked up before looking back down to me.
“This is happening whether we want it or not. You don’t understand how much this needs to happen. This isn’t about you or me or our friends. This is about us. People. Seven billion and counting. Global warming. I’m not saying apocalypse, but what they’re trying to do is reset the balance. See, people read the Bible and think they should still be fruitful and multiply. It’s their faiths that don’t allow them to see the world as it is because they think it’s just a rest stop on the way to god city. This world is disposable to them.”
“Gavin, these are all things you knew before coming with me to France. Why have you changed your mind? I realize I don’t really know you, but I never figured you to be an ideologue.” I inched closer to him. I was surprised the rain had not let up by that point, but it was easier to hear him the closer I got. And my bag was on the table next to him. If I could just…
Gavin bent down, knees on elbows, “I’m not. The Cor and The Entelechy know things that are not public knowledge. The headwinds are blowing us toward an apocalypse of our own design, Grey. You’ve read the books. I know you’ve read the books. I know better than to think you’re a literature snob. All Proust and Chekhov and Somerset Maugham.”
“Tolstoy. Never Proust.” Gavin using my taste in literature was both disarming and offensive.
He shrugged. “You’ve indulged yourself in other genres. Dystopia. Brave New World. 1984. The Road. You’ve seen them in your mind with all the reality of watching a newscast.” Gavin moved around me, taking great care not to look too smug. But it was there in his voice in any case. “We’re fucked if we don’t do something. We need invention. Innovation. We need to figure out how to get off this planet if it comes to it. The Doomsday Clock? In 1947, people at the University of Chicago came up with it because they were living in the aftermath of World War II and the beginnings of the Cold War. Back then, it was just an indicator of how we might destroy ourselves by nuclear arms. Now it includes climate change. What people are failing to realize is how these changes will bring about more wars for resources. The Doomsday Clock is seconds until midnight.” He stopped pacing in front of me, making eye-contact.
“I’ve seen the documents, Grey. World governments begging for help from each other, acknowledging an end to civilization. Some world powers sticking their heads so far in the sand, they have to be making plans for secret bunkers. Other governments are taking their heads out of the sand and trying in vain to make something happen. And they’re just making everything worse.”
“And you think putting the gods to death is going to help? Come on, Gavin—that seems naïve.” If he got up and turned his back to me for just a few moments, I could slip my hand into my bag and grab my pen knife. And there was also the parent group he spoke of. “The Entelechy—it’s a philosophical principle about a person reaching his or her potential. So, this is only part of the plan? Then why are we here? Where’s Saul?”
Gavin smirked. “Saul isn’t here, Grey. He’s working with us. He’s gone…” This time Gavin’s smile faded and for the first time he looked agitated. “He’s gone elsewhere.”
I rolled over and sat on my knees. It wasn’t a comfortable position, but it at least allowed me to look him in the eye. “So he’s the betrayer.”
“Like I said, Grey, it’s just not that simple. The Entelechy is moving to save our species. So be it if a god wants to help us.”
“Then it’s not the smaller ones you’re after necessarily—the goal is to get the big ones. Yahweh, Jesus. The ones who wouldn’t bother to think The Entelechy is a threat. Get rid of them, humanity lets go. What’s that have to do with Gobekli Tepe?” I tried to stand up, but Gavin put his hand on my shoulder to dissuade me.
“There’s a doorway here, Grey. I’ve heard you’ve already found one of them on the Isle of Man. This one leads to the same place.” His other hand was on my other shoulder. Tolliver’s death shook him more than I could have imagined. He was all too eager to pour himself into this mad crusade.
“Though…portable.”
My knees were already aching. I rocked on them to ease the pain. “But you’ve enlisted. I suppose I should to?” The very thought galled me. He had to know that.
He sat back again. He wasn’t savoring the close proximity. “We’re under orders, Grey. The Cor wants all the mages on board with this. I think we have to.”
“Mr. Moniz.” Someone addressed Gavin from the entrance to the tent.
Gavin stood up and walked over. I stood up and put my fingers into the front pocket of my bag. Just as I turned to face the new individual, my heart sank.
Shred’s hands were bound with bungee cord and his mouth was gagged. An assault rifle pointed at his ribs.
Chapter 20
“Shred! No!” I palmed the pen knife and fell to my knees and onto my face. I was distraught, but I needed to look more hopeless than I actually was.
Besides, we still had Cool Luke and Korezeloth, wherever they were.
Gavin took a length of rope from the person who led Shred into the tent and began to tie Shred’s legs. The man with the rifle leveled at me menacingly for a moment before returning the muzzle back to Shred’s ribs.
Gavin shoved him down and he sat, staring at me. He looked at me, glassy-eyed and waited for our captors to lose notice of us for just a moment.
He nodded almost imperceptibly.
Whatever was going on, Shred’s capture was a part of the plan. Pen knife still clutched in my hand, I bowed my head toward him to indicate I understood. Whatever was going on, I was still cutting my own ropes.
“Any signs of the other one? I know Derek said he saw three Clint Eastwoods coming toward us. The alchemist is here somewhere. As long as he’s lurking around, Spahr’s plan could get blown wide open.” Gavin looked where I was laying on the floor. My hair, having come loose from my ponytail, covered my eyes. I could see him well enough, however.
Spahr must have been the hulk of a man running the excavation outside.
“No. No one’s seen him,” the man with the rifle growled. “Yet. We’re going back out. Thought you’d want him.”
Will of Shadows: Inkwell Trilogy 2 (The Inkwell Trilogy) Page 22
