by Mazhar, S
“Hey!” Sam exclaimed. “You’re my sister! Your loyalty should be in this direction.”
Rose giggled.
“Me and Ella could happen,” Sam defended. “Ella’s got that whole, love-someone-who-is-a-challenge thing going on,” he pointed out. “A mage and a human, what’s more challenging than that?” He fell quiet for a moment. “Sam and Ella,” he muttered, his voice dreamy and soft. “It’s got a ring to it, don’t you think?”
Aaron wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know, mate,” he said. “Sounds like Salmonella.”
“Yeah, you definitely don’t want any of that,” Rose added.
They snickered as Sam huffed.
“You’re really not funny,” he said, moodily.
“What about you, Aaron?” Rose asked with amusement in her voice. “You ever gonna ask Ava out?”
“What?” Aaron was surprised. “No. Why would you say that?”
“Oh come on,” Rose said. “I have eyes too. I see the way you both look at each other.”
A slow grin spread over Aaron’s face. “I do like Ava,” he said, “but honestly? I still find myself thinking about Rebecca.”
“Aww, Aaron,” Rose cooed. “No one forgets their first love, particularly their first unrequited love.”
“Yeah, like I haven’t forgotten Jessie McGuire,” Sam said.
“Sammy,” Rose sighed. “That’s different.”
“How?” Sam asked.
“She has to know you exist for it to count as a romance,” Rose said.
“She knew about me,” Sam protested.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Rose teased.
The front door closed, followed by a resounding click. Sam and Rose fell quiet, listening as Kyran’s footsteps trudged up the stairs. The conversation ended, as all three knew Kyran would be able to hear the whole thing from his room next door.
Aaron felt an odd sense of comfort spread over him now that Kyran was safely back home. Up until now, he wasn’t even aware that a part of him was tense and waiting for Kyran’s return. He closed his eyes and, almost instantly, fell asleep.
***
The days got cooler as March rolled in. The sun continued to beat down on the City of Salvador, but the cool breeze made it a little more bearable. Aaron continued his training with Kyran, honing his power and learning how to manipulate his core. He attended all the meetings at the Hub, realising with each one just how much trouble their realm was in.
“The Q-Zone will be ready in three days,” Scott was saying, standing before his Hunters once again. “According to the reports, Raoul and his Lycans have taken up residence in Zone T-26. There’s a substantial number that we could take out in one–”
“How did that happen?” Aaron asked.
Scott turned to him, surprised at the interruption. “What?” he asked.
“Sorry,” Aaron quickly apologised, “but you just said Raoul’s taken over T-26. Isn’t Zone T one of Hadrian’s zones?”
“It is,” Scott replied.
“So how did the Lycans take over a part of it? Or did Hadrian give it to the Lycans himself?” Aaron asked.
A ripple of surprise went around the room. Hunters turned in their seats to give Aaron incredulous looks. Scott looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or frown. He dropped his head and shook it slowly from side to side.
“Aaron,” he started, “Hadrian is a vamage, and vamages don’t work with anyone. Least of all the Lycans.”
“Why?” Aaron asked. “Lycans and vamages are both enemies of mages, right?”
“They are,” Scott confirmed.
“Then isn’t it possible they could join together to fight us?”
Scott paused and Aaron could see fear cloud his eyes at the thought. With great conviction, he shook his head. “Lycans and vamages are enemies – not just of mages, but of each other. They could never join together.” He nodded at the map on the table. “Raoul took Zone T-26 by force. Raoul will be expecting an attack from Hadrian, but not us. We can use that.”
Aaron stared at the map, his brow furrowed in thought. “Can you choose where to put the Q-Zone?” he asked.
“Yes,” Scott replied.
“You can make it as big or small as you like?”
“Pretty much,” Scott replied.
“Then why don’t you make a Q-Zone big enough to cover the whole of T-26, and destroy all the Lycans without sending in any Hunters?” Aaron asked.
Scott stared at Aaron, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.
“Better yet,” Aaron continued, “turn all of Hadrian’s zones into Q-Zones, and eradicate the whole lot of them without risking a single Hun–”
Kyran grabbed hold of his hand, shaking his head from side to side with a grave look. Aaron glanced around the room to see everyone staring at him in a mix of surprise and, strange as it was, sympathy.
“I wish it were as simple as that,” Scott said quietly. “But if I turn Hadrian’s zones into death traps, I would not only be killing the demons living there, I would be murdering the hundreds of thousands of mages trapped in those zones.”
Aaron stilled, eyes widening with horror.
“There are mages stuck in the same zones as demons,” Scott explained with a heavy heart. “Families, children, thousands upon thousands of them. They’re terrorised every day by the demons, by the vamages that came and took over their homes. Sometimes, a mage gets lucky and manages to escape. They come here to Salvador and we help them settle in one of our zones, one of Neriah’s zones.” He sighed deeply. “But not everyone can escape. Their only hope is for us to help them, to kill the demons and give them back their homes, their zones.” Scott met Aaron’s eyes. “This...this option, to use the Q-Zone and kill everything...It’s been considered in the past.” He took in a shuddering breath. “But I can’t do it. I can’t eradicate my own people. They’re the ones we’re fighting for. If we lose them then we lose the war, regardless of how many demons we manage to kill or how many zones we take over.”
“The way to think about it,” Ella said, “is to believe that we only have one option: taking one sub-zone at a time, cleaning it out and setting up Gates before moving to the next zone.” She held Aaron’s gaze. “There is no other way.”
Aaron nodded at her.
“The vamages have been terrorising Zone T-26 for far too long,” Scott said. “Now the Lycans have taken it over and Heaven only knows what they’re doing to the mages trapped there.” Scott’s eyes darkened as he looked around the room. “Provided the Lurkers have done their job, the Q-Zone will be in a mage-free area. It’ll be your job to get the Lycans into the Q-Zone. We’re taking this zone back,” he said, “from vamages, from Lycans,” his fists clenched, “from Hadrian.”
He nodded at the Hunters, gesturing to the door, signalling the end of the meeting. As the Hunters got up to leave, Scott called Aaron over.
Aaron approached the table, his apology already on his lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”
“That’s okay.” Scott smiled tiredly. “I sometimes forget there’s so much you still don’t know.” He folded his arms. “I wanted to speak to you about the Q-Zone hunt. I know you’re more than aware that I can’t stop you from going,” he said, “seeing as you went to the last Q-Zone hunt against my wishes.”
Aaron felt slightly guilty at defying Scott, but he held his head up and replied, “You were sending my friends into a Q-Zone. I wasn’t going to sit back and let them go in alone.”
“They weren’t alone,” Scott said. “They had Hunters with them.” He waved a hand. “Anyway, I hope you understand Lycans are a different game altogether. You’re not ready to face them, not by a long stretch–”
“I know,” Aaron said quickly, “but Sam and Rose aren’t going on this hunt so, if you want, I’ll stay back too.”
“I didn’t say you had to stay back,” Scott said. “I don’t want you going to the Q-Zone but I would like your help on this hunt.”
A
aron frowned. “How does that work?”
Scott smiled and turned to the table. He waved his hand and the image flickered to life again, dissolving the red and blue zones into intricate patterns of wispy lines that criss-crossed the zones, to make it look like each zone had its own web.
“Zone T is one of Hadrian’s zones,” Scott started. “I explained before that each zone is divided into sub-zones.” He pointed to the small blob that was T-26. “We take each sub-zone and clear it out. Once we have all the sub-zones we set up a Gate, to protect not only the human realm but also to stop that zone from being taken over again.” He paused and looked over at Aaron. “T-26 is the last sub-zone for Zone T. The Gate can only be set up by Elementals. Neriah used to set them up, but in his absence Skyler and Ella have taken that responsibility.” He met Aaron’s eyes. “A Gate set up by two Elementals is powerful, but one set up by three Elementals will be pretty much invincible.”
Aaron’s eyes widened with understanding. “You want me to help set up the Gate?” he asked in disbelief. “Scott, I don’t know the first thing–”
“You don’t have to,” Scott interrupted. “Ella and Skyler will set it up. You just need to touch the Gate, that’s all.”
“That’s all?” Aaron asked.
“Trust me.” Scott smiled.
Aaron didn’t say anything. He looked down at the map. “The very first Gates,” he said, “the ones Hadrian tore down – they were set up by Aric, weren’t they?”
“Yes,” Scott replied.
“Aric was pretty much the strongest mage, wasn’t he?” Aaron asked.
“Where you going with this?” Scott asked.
“I’m just wondering how, if Aric was so powerful, did Hadrian manage to tear his Gates down?”
Scott didn’t speak right away. He looked pained, as if giving the answer was digging into half-healed wounds. “He corrupted them,” he said quietly. “The Gates of Resistance were set up by Aric to protect the human realm. That was their primary purpose,” he explained. “Hadrian corrupted the Gates, used his demonic power to weaken them and tear them down.” He shook his head in barely concealed disgust. “It was Hadrian’s way to declare war against the mages, against Neriah. The human realm was, and probably still is, of very little importance to Hadrian. He tore down the Gates only to defy Neriah and, of course, to give the proverbial finger to Aric.”
“So Neriah set up the Gates again on his own?” Aaron asked.
“He had to,” Scott replied. “He was the only Elemental left. Hadrian had become the enemy, James Avira and his brother, Joseph, were dead and Christopher...” He paused. “Your dad had left the realm.”
Aaron could feel the burn of humiliation seep up his neck and ears. Hearing it like that, learning how fragile the mage realm was when his dad left, Aaron could almost understand the cold behaviour he had endured from most mages.
Aaron thought about Neriah, momentarily placing himself in Neriah’s shoes. If his best friend – someone he regarded like a brother – turned into his worst enemy, his other friend was killed and the only other person that could help him had fled to another realm, what would he do? A bout of panic erupt in the pit of his stomach. Neriah would be beyond furious with his dad, with his parents. Would he forgive them? Or would he punish them?
Aaron had to forcefully stop that train of thought before it unsettled him completely. He looked over at the map again, trying to pull himself back into the conversation.
“So, let me get this straight,” Aaron said. “Aric had set up the Gates. Hadrian corrupted them and pulled them down. Neriah waged war and set up the Gates again. But two years ago, Hadrian pulled them back down–”
“No,” Scott interrupted. “Hadrian didn’t pull them down. He couldn’t, not this time.” At Aaron’s frown, he explained. “I told you that when Aric had set up the Gates, they were solely to protect the human realm – to stop the elemental energy from leaking out. After Hadrian pulled them down, Neriah knew that if he were to set up the Gates again, Hadrian would just do the same thing. So Neriah changed the Gates. He encrypted them with Glyphs – specific ones that repelled the touch of demons such as Lycans, vampires and of course, vamages.” Scott smiled with something akin to pride for his leader. “It was ingenious. The Gates protected not only the human realm but ours too. For years the vamages couldn’t get past our Gates, nor could they touch them. One by one, Neriah went through all the zones, locking them with Gate after Gate. Hadrian was left with only three zones; ones so heavily protected they became untouchable. But it was a loss we could live with. He had three zones, we had the rest.” His face fell, eyes becoming shadowed. “That was until two years ago, when Hadrian’s Scorcher started pulling down the Gates and taking over.”
Aaron frowned. “I don’t get it. If Neriah made the Gates immune to vamages, then how did the Scorcher manage to get to them?”
“The Gates were immune to vamages like Hadrian and the rest,” Scott said, “ones that were born mages, but who turned into vamages. The Scorcher is a born vamage. His blood is different. Since Glyphs are created with the blood of the species that the Gates have to repel, they can’t block out the Scorcher. We only had the blood of three of our worst enemies: the Lycans, the vampires and the vamages.” Scott shook his head. “We never anticipated we’d have to deal with something stronger.”
***
The day of the Q-Zone hunt came on a fresh summer day. Hunters began arriving from the moment of daybreak. Long after breakfast had been served, Aaron, Sam and a few of Salvador’s mages stayed at the table, just watching the visitors stream in through the open Gate. Aaron grinned at the sight of Zulf leading his group in.
“Where’s he going?” Aaron asked, seeing Zulf ride past the cottages.
“Probably looking for Kyran,” Ryan said. “For Zulf, coming to Salvador only means one thing: Kyran.”
The Gate opened again with a bright flash, drawing Aaron’s attention. This time, though, there were no bikes, just three men oddly dressed in long white tunics with their hoods pulled up to cover their heads and shadow their faces. The one at the front lowered his hood, scanning their surroundings. His gaze rested on the table and he began walking towards it, with the other two men following him.
“About time,” Ryan muttered, his tone starkly dark compared to only moments before. “I was wondering when they’d show up.”
“Who are they?” Aaron asked.
“Lurkers,” Ryan replied. “Here to answer to Scott.”
“About what?” Sam asked.
“Why they didn’t pick up the fact that Zone G-14 had hell hounds,” he said. “Not to mention why they didn’t notice an entire Abarimon valley in Zone L-26.”
Aaron watched with interest as the three men neared the table. Four months ago, Aaron would have only seen the white-hooded tunics the men wore, but his stay in the mage realm had taught him to notice what lay beyond the surface. The passing breeze pressed their clothes against them so Aaron could see the faint outline of leather bands criss-crossing the men’s torsos. Their sleeves were long, but Aaron saw a flash of silver slotted in leather pockets at their wrist when their arms swung in time with their steps. The Lurkers carried weapons, just like Hunters did.
When they got close enough, Aaron got a good look at the one Lurker who had lowered his hood. He was surprised to see a mature face. Aaron had only met young Hunters, aged anything from sixteen to early twenties. This Lurker was likely in his late forties. His short, dark hair had a splattering of grey; his sharp brown eyes were lined. It was only when Aaron finished his private analysis of the Lurker did he realise that the man was staring at Aaron just as intently.
“Patrick,” Ryan greeted him, drawing the Lurker’s attention away from Aaron. “It’s been a while.”
The Lurker – Patrick – smiled tightly and nodded. “More than a year, by my count,” he said, extending a hand to shake Ryan’s. He turned back to Aaron, almost immediately. “You...you can’t be...Are you related to Chr
istopher Adams?”
“You could say that,” Aaron replied. “I’m his son.”
Patrick’s eyes widened with surprise. “Chris? Chris is here?” He looked back at Ryan. “When did this happen? When did the Adams return?”
“About four months ago,” Ryan replied. “Don’t get too excited. Christopher Adams isn’t here. He’s tracking down Neriah.”
A look of grim understanding crossed Patrick’s face. He turned back to Aaron and smiled, holding out his hand. “Patrick Sweeney,” he said, introducing himself.
Aaron shook his hand. “Aaron,” he returned.
“It’s a pleasure, Aaron,” Patrick said.
The two men behind him lowered their hoods and introduced themselves as Bryce and Harvey. Aaron noted they were younger than Patrick, but not by much.
“I figured I wouldn’t be seeing any of the Adams again,” Patrick said.
“So did we,” Ryan added, with a wink at Aaron.
“You look very much like your father,” Patrick said, gazing at Aaron with a wide grin. “It’s almost like Chris is sitting here.”
Aaron didn’t say anything. It wasn’t the first time someone had commented on his likeness to his father, but it was the first that didn’t fill him with pride. “Did you know my dad well?” he asked.
Patrick laughed. “I knew him really well. I was friends with your father and uncle, worked with both of them on a number of hunts back in the day.” His smile broadened. “It’ll be great to see Chris again.”
“Patrick?” a voice called.
Aaron turned to see it was Drake, with a crowd of orchard workers behind him, all carrying baskets to the Stove. It was no doubt for the feast Mary was preparing in anticipation of the victorious return of the Hunters tonight.
Drake’s brow furrowed as he walked over to the table. “What are you doing here?” he asked Patrick.
“I have to speak to Scott,” Patrick replied, reaching out to shake Drake’s hand. “You’re looking well, Drake,” he said.
A look of great unease flickered over Drake. He shot a look at Aaron. “Times are changing,” he said. “It gives a little hope.”
