A shadow against the light caught her attention. Kallish came into the room, the warrior as immaculate as ever.
She showed the photographs to Kallish and explained her theory.
“It was a bloodbath,” Kallish said after a long period of quiet, attention still on the photographs. “Foolish humans who did not understand that they would destroy their own kind as well as the Erith.”
“You were there, svegraen.”
“And many of the warriors here now.”
“I am sorry.”
“All long before your birth.” Kallish was not dismissive, just pointing out the fact. “We hoped that the humans would forget over time. Several generations past, in human terms.”
“It seems not.” Arrow sighed. The Erith had several blind spots when it came to dealing with other races. “Perhaps they do not know exactly what happened. All the humans involved were dead. They just had their own suspicion.” She remembered the bitter hostility in Lucy’s face and understood it better now. “And where there are no facts …”
“Geese will make their own tales,” Kallish finished the Erith saying, equally grim. “I will suggest to Lord Whintnath that some education is in order.”
“They have not found the Descendants yet?”
“A few. None involved.” Kallish gathered up the papers. “I will have copies made for the commander.”
“And I should update the Prime and Preceptor.” Arrow rubbed her hands across her tired eyes.
“It will not help with the hunt,” Kallish said practically. “Rest first, report later.”
~
Her wish to report to Zachary the next day was thwarted by the news, relayed by a brief, personal visit from Matthias, that Lucy had disappeared. The ‘kin were now dividing their attention between the hunt for the surjusi and trying to trace the human female. He took the news of the wooden panels having come from the Rowan residence with a nod, mouth tightening, and went on his way, tense and unsettled. Perhaps wondering, as Arrow was, among other things, just how long it was going to be possible for Zachary to hide the relationship that had existed between Marianne and Lucy.
She made a short report to the Preceptor after Matthias had left, half expecting to be summoned back, surprised when he did nothing more than tell her to continue. He looked tired through the communicator’s amber shimmer, face shadowed.
His own news for her was equally disheartening. The Academy had traced and accounted for all of the Erith magicians capable of a summoning spell and were satisfied that none had been involved.
The Queen had chosen not to inform her people, and had ordered a discreet, wider, enquiry into any Erith capable of handling the power necessary to summon surjusi. As the days passed the Taellan were becoming convinced that the problem was in the human world, not their own, despite the attack on House Falsen. As a precaution, though, the Erith borders were raised, using the excuse of the attack, powerful ward spells that normally lay dormant now maintained by teams of magicians.
The Erith liked to believe that the borders could be maintained indefinitely, but the hard truth, Arrow knew, was that the border was too large and trained magicians not numerous enough. The White Guard were also stretched to their limits, having doubled their patrols and also tasked with investigating every report of unusual activity as a possible sighting. It was only a matter of time before the Erith population at large realised what was happening and panic started. Previous incursions had seen neighbours and family members turn on each other, terrified of the taint that could kill with a single touch.
With too much to think about, Arrow took refuge in the workspace again, continuing to make her potions and powders until the light faded again. The cadre moved quietly about the building, leaving alone with her thoughts.
She sat in the workspace, wooden stool uncomfortable enough to keep her awake, cradling a mug of coffee in her hands. The White Guard had been puzzled by her request initially, and now she had seen most of the cadre try the drink with varying results.
The workbench in front of her, waist height for ease of working, was covered with pre-prepared physical spells. Enough to trap a magic user and surjusi. She hoped. The supplies were finished. The cadre would get more, if she asked, she thought. Trapping a surjusi was too important to take any chances.
Tilting her head back she saw the setting sun through the skylight, casting its last rays onto the workbench and throughout the room. There were no windows in the walls, just that large, reinforced skylight for natural light. The walls were scattered with remnants of some previous magician’s less successful spellworking, so she supposed the precaution was wise. There were lamps set along the walls, so she could work into the night.
She froze, mug halfway to her mouth, and looked up at the skylight again, then down to the workbench. The window.
“Svegraen!”
The urgency in her voice had an entire third through the door in moments, hands on weapons, casting alert glances around the room. They found her frantically dragging empty boxes from under the bench, packing her spells.
“The residence. The residence, svegraen,” she said urgently, fingers trembling as she tried to fit one more pouch into the box in front of her.
“What is it?” Kallish’s presence was a wash of cool.
“The magician is at the residence, svegraen.”
“The Hessman residence?”
“Yes. Yes. Quickly.”
“Pack all this up,” Kallish ordered her third, waving to the dozens of pouches and jars. “Xeveran! Bring the vehicles around. Arrow, you need to advise the Prime.” And, wonder of wonders, the cadre leader produced a sleek mobile phone from one of her pockets. Arrow stared at the device in something like horror. The only telephones the Erith admitted to possessing were at the administrative complex outside the Taellaneth, and then only traditional telephones. Kallish’s calm cracked into a tiny smile. “Emergency use.”
“Naturally.” Arrow took the phone, wondering how many other human technologies that warriors had tucked away for emergency use, and dug out the Prime’s card.
The White Guard were geared for war when she finished her brief call with Zachary. Long hair was pinned back, armoured coats securely fastened and shimmering with the tell-tale presence of defensive wards. Arrow stepped outside into darkness and bit back a curse at her inferior eyesight. There was a spell she could use to enhance her sight, if the Taellan had not forbidden that she apply her magic for personal use, a restriction almost as annoying as the oath spells themselves.
Settled into the back of one of the vehicles with Kallish she bit her lip, wondering if being able to see to fight a magician and surjusi was really personal use. It did not take long to decide that it was not. The spell took moments to execute and she spent the rest of the short journey adjusting to her newly enhanced sight. Not perfect, not nearly as good as ‘kin or Erith sight, but better. At least she should not walk into things.
They arrived at the gates of the Hessman residence shortly before the ‘kin.
~
The Prime was dressed in combat clothing and had brought a dozen ‘kin with him, mostly armed. Two were in loose clothing, their change close in their eyes. The ‘kin greeted the Erith warriors with respectful nods as the groups gathered around the Erith vehicles outside the residence gates, air filled with the taste of smoke from the ruined residence.
“What’s up?”
“The magician is here.”
“Where?” The snarl in Zachary’s voice sent her back a step before she checked the movement.
“Somewhere on the grounds.”
“You don’t know exactly?” He did not question her certainty that the magician was here, and she steadied under his confidence.
“Not yet. Here, we need to distribute these. Everyone should take some.” Arrow pulled a box out of the vehicle.
“You’ve been busy,” Matthias noted. His eyes widened as warriors opened every Erith vehicle revealing box after box of pouches and fragile pottery jars
.
“What’s this?” Zachary’s eyes were keen. “A new weapon?”
“Pre-prepared containment spells,” she corrected. “They do not require any activation. Just throw. They should stick.”
“Should?”
“It is the strongest containment I can conjure,” she said, back straightening, then shrugged, “but untried.”
“Svegraen.” Kallish had been following the conversation through translation, and now brought the second of her cadre forward and instructed him to see to the distribution.
“Where do we start?” Zachary asked, on his toes as the last of the pouches were distributed. Erith archers were readying their bows, checking the strings were taut, ‘kin going over their own weapons with similar professional proficiency. Glancing around the group Arrow thought that between them they would be able to take on an army. She hoped it would be enough for a surjusi.
“Over here.” She led them through the grounds of the house. There was no active magic she could sense, any spells in the residence sundered by mage fire, and no sense of being watched. She was not sure that could be trusted.
“The lawn?” Zachary asked, sceptical.
“That window.” She pointed to where the window had been.
“You’re stuck on that window. Why?”
“It makes no sense. Unless it was not a window at all.” She drew a breath, hoping that she was right and was not about to look very foolish before all these competent warriors. She knelt on the ground and put her hand on the earth, seeking. “I think it was designed to send light to something underneath.”
Both Zachary and Kallish’s faces lit with understanding and they barked similar sounding orders to their warriors. In short order the group was spread out, warriors casting their attention in all directions.
In the middle of them, Arrow sent her senses out into the ground. Searching through earth was difficult with the density and weight of soil.
At first there was nothing, just soil. The occasional earthworm. Even a mole, startled by the pressure of her magic. And then. There. At the edge of her search. Something unnatural. She rose and quickly moved closer to the house, kneeling, and repeating her search. There. That was not grass.
“Svegraen, there is an unnatural section of ground here.”
“Understood.” Warriors gathered, weapons ready, Kallish moving to stand at Arrow’s shoulder as Arrow peeled back the not-grass. It was feather-light, woven to let light through, cloying to touch, and as it gave way, a dense sheet of glass was revealed, gleaming dully in the limited light.
“This is a skylight.” Zachary crouched next to her. “There must be an entrance somewhere.”
“Possibly in the residence,” Arrow glanced across at the ruin and grimaced, “though it will be difficult to find. This is not warded,” she added, surprised. There was not one trace of magic on the glass. Which is why days of searching had not found it, the unnatural covering indistinguishable from the rest of the grass unless it was moved.
“A cellar,” Zachary speculated, eyes glinting. “Wonder how big it is.” He glanced up to his people. “We’ll go in here. Matt, explosive charge. And get ropes ready.”
The ‘kin moved in, some setting small packets of explosives on the glass, some readying ropes for the descent into the dark, tying off the ropes on the thick trunks of nearby trees, the rest readying their weapons to stand alongside the Erith archers, waiting.
“Can you muffle the sound, Arrow? Don’t want the whole neighbourhood on us,” Matthias asked.
“A moment.” Arrow gathered power, crushed chalk in her hands and spoke the spell as she let the crushed chalk fall on the glass. “Ready.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The explosion was a noiseless concussion of force against her skin, glass disintegrating in silent, sparkling rain as it fell a long way into the dark.
Warm air rushed up out of the hole, carrying with it a familiar stench. Arrow covered her nose in a futile attempt to block it, stomach churning.
“This is the place.”
“Looks like it,” Zachary agreed, eyes glinting.
“The crossbow came from here.”
“Crossbow?” Kallish asked.
Zachary did not waste time asking if she was sure, just nodded grimly.
“Lights,” he ordered. The ‘kin with ropes pulled short sticks from their belts, snapped them and sent them down. The sticks glowed, light growing stronger as they fell until they landed on a floor of packed earth.
Arrow moved, kneeling at the side of the hole, sticking her head over to see underneath, opening her sight, trying not to breathe in too much. To her surprise, Kallish gripped her shoulder, hard, ready to pull her back.
“I cannot sense anything. Apart from the smell.” Which must surely be worse for the ‘kin, although they showed no reaction.
“Let’s go.” Zachary nodded to the ‘kin attached to ropes.
Shifkin slid down the ropes without hesitation, forming a loose circle facing outward, throwing more light sticks into the dark, widening the visible area, the pair that had not been armed shifting to their animal forms, the others standing with weapons ready. There was nothing but blank, earthen floor so far. Two thirds of White Guard went next, Arrow carried, without being sure how it had happened, by the second in Kallish’s third, a stocky male who set her down as if she were fragile glass before moving aside to let more ‘kin, including the Prime and Matthias, follow.
At some unspoken agreement, the remaining third, and a few ‘kin, remained above, watchful, shapes silhouetted against the night sky when Arrow glanced up.
The darkness stretched, seemingly endless and untouched, in all directions around the glowing sticks. Even as she tried to see if there was an end to it, one of the ‘kin threw a light stick as hard as he could. It tumbled, spinning, flickering as it turned, long into the distance before falling naturally to the ground, a dim spot to Arrow’s eyes.
“It’s huge,” Matthias sounded impressed. “Not just a cellar. Big as a whole bloody building.”
“How in hell has it stayed hidden for so long?” Zachary countered, then glanced about. “We need to search it. Find its size. And that damned magician.”
“I cannot sense him. Or any surjusi taint,” Arrow added, “but that does not mean much.” Her nose wrinkled. Now that she had her feet on the ground the stench was worse and there was residue of old magic against her skin. Nothing active.
The magic was the odd blend of magic that she had sensed in the wards above. Partly Erith partly human. Along with the stench in the first world, the traces of magic in the second world carried the unmistakable twist of forbidden magic.
“Yeah, he can appear out of nowhere,” Matthias agreed, bringing her attention back, raising his weapon to his shoulder, eyes sharp. A few quick hand signals and the ‘kin flowed forward, Erith with them.
Just beyond the light from the glowing sticks they found the first wall, dense earth perfectly smooth, embedded with mirror pieces that glittered light back to them. Arrow glanced up and back, spotting the skylight not far away. During the day the mirror pieces would reflect light, better than any lamp, and not requiring fuel. The cadre set a makeshift torch in front of the mirrored wall, demonstrating how effective the mirrors were as light spread out in a warm pool.
There was a shuffling sound in the darkness and Arrow’s stomach twisted, remembering the crossbow’s home. That awful something moving in the dark. All the warriors, ‘kin and Erith, sharpened their attention.
“Light,” Kallish ordered. It took Arrow a moment to realise the order was for her. She crushed a piece of chalk and threw it up, speaking the spell then blowing, sending the chalk dust out. Light particles bloomed, the chalk rising with the spell, searching for the far corners of the vast underground room.
“Nice trick,” Matthias said approvingly, not taking his eyes from his surroundings.
The light was not bright, even with her enhanced sight, just enough to see better. Irregu
lar shapes appeared in the gloom, bulky boxes covered in tarpaulin, wooden shipping crates scattered on the earth floor, some open, packing straw spilling out.
Soft shuffling met Arrow’s ears again. Around her the warriors twitched, following the noise, eyes glinting ‘kin greens and browns and Erith amber.
And then out of the darkness a voice.
“Hugh? Hugh? Are you here?”
Arrow knew that voice. Lucy Steers.
“What in hell?” Zachary muttered. “Wait here.” He flowed into the dark, melting into shadow, presence betrayed moments later by an undignified squeal, then uneven footsteps as he came back to the light dragging an unwilling Lucy. She had lost her groomed perfection in the time she had been missing, hair tangled, skin chalky white in the poor light, dressed for winter in a heavy, dark coloured, practical coat.
“Wh-what are y-you doing here?”
“You first.” Zachary gave her a shake, enough to send her stumbling back when he released her. “Thought you didn’t know anything else?”
“I don’t.”
“Lies,” he snarled, baring his teeth.
Lucy’s chin lifted a moment, jaw set, and she opened her mouth to respond.
A dark mass, the size of a warrior’s head, flung out of the shadows. Mage fire.
There was no time to issue a warning. Arrow pushed her wards out, silver flaring as the mage fire hit, falling to her knees at the force of the unclean magic, darkness spreading in thick strands over the silver, burning into her wards, hissing at the grating sense of another magician’s power against hers.
Lucy screamed and huddled down on the earthen floor.
“Stay still. Hear me? Do not move.” Zachary put all of his power into the command and Lucy shook under it, head bobbing.
Another bolt of mage fire hit.
“Fire,” Kallish ordered, sounding tense and controlled.
Erith arrows hissed into the dark, struck something. Or somethings. A pair of archers fired amber-bright arrows after, streaks of brilliance that lit the scene as they flew.
The vast cavern stretched out into the distance, full of more piles of boxes and crates that went on and on, blocking clear sight. A distance away, in the shadow of a towering crate, a darker patch huddled, the indistinct shape familiar. A disguised magician.
Concealed: The Taellaneth - Book 1 Page 23
