The Wielder: Sworn Vengeance (The Wielder Series)

by Gosnell, David

  Clyde stands up and offers his chair to Pffif, who glowers at him. He holds up his hands and says “wasn’t me” which Pffif acknowledges. Clyde attempts to help Yugo up, but he is a little more than Clyde can wrestle. I ask Vets to give him a hand, which he thanks me for. Sil offers to protect Vets food while she’s gone.

  She is really sucking up to the big girl.

  Trish brings us our check and I try to apologize. We readdress our meals in earnest. But there’s another question I must know the answer to. “Hey Sil, what kind of neuromancy was that you put on him there at the end? It looked painful. I didn’t know you could do that.”

  It makes sense to me though, if you can make someone feel good, can’t you make them feel bad too?

  She beams a hi-watt smile at me. “That was the crushing his testicles with my hand kind of neuromancy, dear.”

  Chapter 15

  The vampire council was pensive. Nervous would be a better word. They were taking a visitor this evening. A powerful one.

  Maldgorath the collector had requested an audience with them.

  To deny one such as him an audience was asking for a true death – or worse. Maldgorath was one of the few remaining Garrigin – a soul slaver. Few Garrigin remain because to be a species so feared, also meant to be one so targeted for eradication. Only the strongest of his kind have survived; Maldgorath was no exception to that rule.

  So they waited, discussing idle business of the community among the members directly present and those via teleconference. They discuss the death of Grey Lightbringer. They discuss the attacks on the Protectorate’s member organizations.

  The herald enters the room and makes the announcement they all anticipate. “May I present Maldgorath, the traveler, the collector of souls, Garrigin and most feared.”

  With that an elegantly dressed human enters the room. But nobody here was going to mistake him for human.

  “Greetings collected council of the Vampire Legions!” he bellows with a smile upon his face and open arms. “I do appreciate you allowing me time to address you.”

  His eyes circle the room. With that gaze was the confidence of a being who knows he could decimate all beings in the room around him.

  That gaze was met by a room of eyes trying to pretend such confidence.

  Breaking the silence, Maldgorath readdresses the room. “Good council, I am here to bear opportunity and good tidings for you and your brethren. Events are preparing to unfold which are unprecedented. Events that will rock the core of this pathetic human civilization. Events that will allow your kind to take their more proper role in the food chain.”

  Corelius Lactuca, who sits at the right hand of Kur, Overseer of the council, had to speak up. “What events are these specifically? The humans outweigh us millions to one, what could be so fortuitous to even the odds? Will these events darken the sun and allow us to walk with impunity?”

  A very non-plussed Maldgorath takes Corelius into his gaze. “No, the sun will not darken” is his reply. “But are you not phage? Can you not spread? Are there not willing hosts?” Maldgorath pauses and regards the whole of the council, present and video-conferenced alike.

  “All of you are weapons of infection and infestation meant merely to weaken those whom our realm wishes to invade, I am here merely to remind you of that and to let you know that the time of opportunity is ready to present itself.”

  Corelius takes offense to that. He stands and protests. “You call us a disease, you call us phage? We are much more than that. We are one with these hosts! We are sentient, thinking beings! Who are you to come here before us and denigrate us? We outnumber you here you arrogant excrement. How dare you!”

  That just brings a smile to Maldgorath’s face. With that he raises his hand toward Corelius and Maldgorath’s eyes roll back. Corelius jerks and his face contorts. Then he falls down upon the table and begins to decompose rapidly.

  Maldgorath’s eyes roll back to normal and his smile fades to a face of seriousness. “Do any of you phages wish to question the nature of your being with me again? Or is there a true flesh and blood Phagorit present that is not just reanimated flesh such as yourselves? Where is your master?”

  The room is silent.

  “Good,” and the smile returns to the Collector’s face. “I cannot tell you what to do, but I can remind you of your purpose here. Events will unfold shortly which will provide you opportunity to move forward against the sea of man.”

  His gaze follows around the room.

  “You may wish to take advantage of that. That is all. Thank you for your time and attention.”

  Maldgorath turns to leave, then stops.

  “But of course, I would be remiss not to offer any of you true immortality as one of mine. All of you covet and feign immortality. An errant ray of sunlight, a paladin’s sword, the holy light of the divine - we all know at least one still wields it. That is all it takes to end your illusion of immortality. But, as one of mine, should you be brought down, you are restored immediately. Do any wish to taste of true immortality?”

  “Immortal in service to you, that is, most powerful Garrigin” is Kur’s careful and respectful reply.

  “True, master of this council. All good things come with a price”

  With that a female stands and says “I will pay that price for true immortality”

  There are hushed tones from the collected members as she leaves her seat to approach Maldgorath. “I give myself most willingly in return for true life immortal.”

  Maldgorath smiles, reaches down and puts his hand upon her head. She shakes for a moment and then her flesh becomes pale grey and her body is as a statue of herself. Maldgorath looks to the council and says “Behold. Ragna is reborn.”

  With that the air ripples and the vampiress stands as she was. She beholds the calcified remains of her former self and smiles at Maldgorath. “How may I serve you master” she asks.

  Maldgorath strokes her cheeks and she swoons as if in ecstasy. “Any others wish to partake of my bounty?

  Kur looks around the room at the uncomfortable members of his council. “The pleasure of your approval to yours is well known, but the torture of your scorn is known as well. Thank you for your most generous offer.”

  Maldgorath nods to Kur and turns to leave, taking Ragna’s arm. They leave the chamber and the building, making their way to the outdoors where a car awaits.

  “How may I serve my new master?” asks Ragna hinting at the pleasures she is willing to offer him.

  He regards her dispassionately. “You have already served me well, you ignorant, stupid cow. I will call for you when I wish to see you, whenever, or if ever that that may be.”

  She attempts to protest, but before the words can pass her lips she ripples into the nothingness that is the holding of Maldgorath.

  Chapter 16

  Sil pulls the minivan into the parking lot that is the cover for the Techno-Mage guild in Boston. She parks us on the second floor, turns off the motor and hands the keys back to me.

  “Do I get to play with the boys again?” Sil asks.

  “That depends” I respond honestly. “If they protest about last time, then no.”

  During my tenure under Grey Lightbringer’s watch, he had sent me and my crew to be “analyzed” by the Techno’s in Berlin. There was much poking and prodding involved to better understand the nature of a summonling to its master. Apparently, Sil had taken advantage of that to allow for a little exploration of her own. Or so I was told afterward. It seems she caused a little disruption in the normal flow of work.

  I do know that I won’t be allowed to enter with a full complement of summonlings. So one by one I say my “see you laters” and dismiss them to the white – that area where they remain in holding, linked to my soul. Feeling alone and exposed I make my way to the elevator.

  Inside the elevator, I punch in the code to head down to the hidden area of the Techno Mage Guild. The elevator moves down and a voice advises me to put my hands
on the screens that appear when the paneling moves away. I do. The elevator moves again, the door opens and I find myself confronted by security forces.

  Nothing to do but smile. So that’s what I do, that and say, “Arthur MacInerny here, hoping to see Edgar.”

  I show them my ID and it’s not too long before I am greeted by the melodious voice and pudgy visage of Edgar himself. Edgar Tinkerman is a mage of extraordinary strength and knowledge – a contemporary of Grey Lightbringer and from what I understand quite as powerful. He took a different path at the onset of the technological revolution of the eighties; one that blends the magical and the scientific. The technology he has helped foster allows those with little magical talent, but some, to wield great strength – and those with great talent to bring forth such at less cost of energy. Grey personally eschewed this technology, but never attacked it as some of the Magerium did.

  As I understand from the things told to me, Edgar feels a great conflict is coming. He wants mankind to be as ready as it can be. His pursuit of this technology cost him his place in the Magerium. But he doesn’t care. In his vision, the world is better saved. Besides, he’s now heading up his own guild – one of the more powerful at that.

  I am greeted by the rotund and handle-bar mustached man himself.

  “Arthur! Arthur! Come here and hug an old friend!” he exclaims, which basically sets security at ease. After a bear hug, he regards me quite seriously. “These are sad and serious times Arthur, I am pleased you are here safely with us. Come, I need to speak with you privately before you summon your entourage.”

  I follow him through the subterranean halls of the Techno-Mage headquarters and we walk to his office. He directs me to a seat and sits his portly frame on his desk in a most un-stuffy manner in front of me. “Something’s happening Arthur, I do not know what it is exactly but it is something, don’t you agree?”

  I tell him, "That makes sense."

  “So,” he continues “I need my organization working at its peak. Your visit to our Berlin facility with Grey taught me a thing or two about what to expect of you and some of your party.”

  Damn. Sil – again. When we visited the Berlin facility to be studied, I allowed Sil permission to play with the staff as long as no permanent harm was done. I guess she did. I tested my hypothesis by naming her directly.

  “Yes Arthur, we can’t afford those kind of distractions and I almost lost a very important person in my organization. Apparently he was a virgin and she, imprinted on him - it’s a thing they can do to a first timer. You have no idea what it took to keep him from leaving us and going to the chateau to ask her hand in marriage.” He rolls his eyes at the absurdity of it.

  And I have to agree, Sil isn’t the marrying kind.

  “Okay, Arthur, Your succubus is a fine enough old girl, I rather enjoyed my conversations with her.”

  I give him the eye after that comment.

  “Nothing like that,” he clarifies. “Anyway, predators are predators, and most are of little danger when well fed.” With that he hands me an ornate box. I open it and there is a large bottle of luminescent blue liquid and a dropper.

  “A mage’s energy recovery potion,” he tells me. “Six time distillation, very powerful. In fact this has a street value of about ten thousand dollars. Of course, we are the primary manufacturers.” he says with a smile and a wink. “Still, a few drops should meet her dietary requirements for life energy. I expect her to be well fed, happy and leaving my guild members and staff alone.”

  I answer with a, “wow” as this is a generous gift. I nod to Edgar in acknowledgement. “She’ll be no issue,” I tell him.

  “Good!” is the snappy reply. “Please keep in mind that Percy Baumgarter is the very important person I told you of that your succubus imprinted on. He’s a brilliant mathematician, engineer, computer analyst and savant of codes. Please, please, make her aware that he is off limits now. Also… please have your leprechaun keep that dreadful flask to himself.”

  All was said with a smile so I knew I wasn’t being dressed down.

  We share a few more pleasantries and some memories of Grey. Edgar shows me to our bank of rooms and leaves me to summon my group after instructing me on how to find the conference room. So I summon my group. I direct everyone to their room assignments. Shey is disappointed that I choose to bunk with Pffiferil. Everyone heads to their rooms but I stop Sil and ask Pffif to leave us, which of course gets a raised eyebrow.

  I share Edgar’s input with Sil and hand her the box. She dips one of her black, claw like nails in the vial, puts it to her mouth and lightly shudders, all the way down to her tail. “Oh my, this is good stuff,” is her response along with gushings as to how much she likes Edgar and how she will be good. I ask her to stay away from Percy. That gets answered with a “who?” I prompt her with a reminder about Percy being a virgin, which prompts an, “Oh yes, one of my baby birds – okay.”

  Damn, she doesn’t even remember his name.

  I step out into the hall to find the conference room and bump into Pffiferil. I let him know of Edgar’s request, which results in a “Begorrah! I hates to be drinkin’ alone.” That’s followed by a smile, a wink and indications I’m going to be his new drinking buddy. I’m not sure how that’s going to work out, so I just put my hand on his shoulder and tell him, “We’ll see about that.”

  With that I head to the conference room where the other refugees wait and the Protectorate will update us on details.

  Chapter 17

  Maldgorath looks over his army, in the large metal warehouse they are packed in. Exactly 1,132 strong – varieties of Dzemond, Vdivel, and lesser creatures that he has collected. This force represents less than half of his collection.

  He is impressed with himself. He has not brought forth such numbers for action in quite some time. He gazes over them, feeling his power and presence over them. They feel it too and are enraptured.

  “Today,” he exclaims “We begin to tear down the barriers to the realm of the Fae. Our actions here will set these hairless monkeys that call themselves men into war and hate on a scale that cannot be calculated. I count on you to enjoy yourselves in the taking of human lives and flesh as you see fit.”

  The warehouse explodes in applause.

  He gazes over the adoring mob, making as much eye contact as he can with the throng he has summoned. “There are specifics to this endeavor that are most important. The first of which is that he must be the only one to address and rend the holy father.” With that he points to a figure cowled in black robes, large purplish-black wings are evident as are horns through openings in the cowl.

  The room hushed in acknowledgement of their master’s command.

  “Bring it,” Maldgorath commands. With that an incubus brings him an ornate box.

  He opens the box and produces a red bracelet and then tosses it to the winged, cowled figure who catches it midair.

  “The red witch will be looking,” Maldgorath directs the cowled figure. “Make sure she sees it – leave no question.”

  There is a nod from the figure in the cowled robe as he fastens the bracelet on his wrist.

  In a deep basso tone he says, “As you command my lord.”

  Maldgorath is happy. He looks over this army and directs them.

  “Those to the tourist busses – shift to human form and go now. Those to the holding trailers go and await your orders. And remember – enjoy yourselves… let no debauchery be overlooked, this is your time to enjoy! Your master is, after all, most generous.”

  Chapter 18

  When you’re at a place that's referred to as the Techno-Mage guild, you expect some bells and whistles in the conference room. I am not disappointed. It is a voluminous room with large flat screen televisions encircling a huge stainless steel and glass table with built-in, flip up screens in front of every chair.

  The table is mostly full, with members of other guilds that also came here for refuge or conference. I base this assessment on the la
ck of tell-tale hardware that the members of the Techno-Mage guild wear to harness and amplify their abilities.

  I am greeted by the squeaky voice of a young man who spins his chair around to greet me. He is the prototypical nerd, pencil thin with thick glasses, a bulging adams apple, and short stringy hair. All that was missing was the pocket protector.

  “Has she asked about me, Mr. MacInerny – Ms. Silithes?”

  Percy. It has to be. I regard the young man seriously. For a moment I consider telling him that she forgot his name. But, that would be hurtful. So instead I play the protective dad. “She’s off limits to you young man,” I tell him as I head to my seat with a purpose.

  “Why?” asks Percy. When I sit down, I look at him with purpose. “Ask your boss Percy. In the mean time, there’s nothing to discuss.”

  That gets a belly laugh from one of two fairly sizeable guys at the end of the table: Paladins of the Order of Light I guess. One picks up his phone and checks it. “Gunter had a question for me to ask you… here it is.” He looks at me with a sarcastically serious expression and says in a fake Nordic accent… “Are you still resisting the demon whore?”

  Percy has to stand up for her honor which gets him stared down both by myself and the rest of the table.

  That message is vintage Gunter, the second Paladin I ever met and generally speaking a great guy. Unfortunately I killed the first Paladin I ever met, Gunter’s friend Herrmann. I now carry Herrmann’s sword and am pledged for revenge against Maldgorath on behalf of his family. Apparently Gunter thinks it’s a neat thing that I’ve rebuffed Sil’s advances for almost 80 years.

  The conference room door busts open and we are joined by Edgar. “Ok good people,” he bellows out “our conference begins in twenty seconds. We will be patching in through Protectorate and other guild headquarters. Our great leader Alistair wishes us to know his feelings and direction. ”