The Wielder: Sworn Vengeance (The Wielder Series)

by Gosnell, David

“What would you expect from General Znuul? He’s evil, and evil does as evil is.”

  The only real surprise was from Arix. “I find it very hard to believe that Ahtsag Znuul would in any way fall back into fellowship with Maldgorath,” he tells us all matter of factly.

  I looked at Arix and ask him point blank – “Do you think that is Znuul?” All I get is a shrug and “It could be another Baalig, his kind of demon, or a shape-shifted creature.”

  That doesn’t help. Sil I know has slept with Znuul, so she would have a good perspective as she seems to tell so much by just a kiss. She is nowhere to be seen. Pffiferil ensures me he told her to come, but did mention she was acting “a wee bit unusual.”

  So I instruct Arix to go get her. He leaves our room.

  I stand dumbfounded at what has been laid out before me – Znuul and Maldgorath’s forces have laid waste to the Vatican in less than a day.

  A short while goes by and Arix returns - alone.

  He smiles in his artificial way looking around the room then taking bead on me. “Might we talk privately, Master Arthur?” I nod to him and step outside. Before I can say “what the hell,” I am asked “Just what exactly did you do to our fine succubus?”

  That throws me off-base – big-time. “I don’t know,” I stammer out.

  “Well she is basically unreachable, totally introverted and not responding to external input. Best I can tell she has been compelled one way or another.”

  I shake my head at him in genuine confusion.

  That gets me a nod from Arix along with a knowing look. “Let me guess, you were angry, you said some things in a declarative sense. Anger can touch upon the will greatly, Master Arthur. I taught you this with several castings. You many have compelled her without knowing you did. We are ever so sensitive to you, you know."

  I review the moment and remember telling her she was worthless. I remember her reaction to that as strange. I tell Arix about it.

  “Well, looks like our girl has realized she is of no worth at all. That’s quite a hard fact to deal with. Well done Arthur, that is positively a vile torture indeed.” The smile on his face is what creeps me out the most – to him that’s a compliment.

  Percy breaks the moment running around the corner. “Mr. MacInerny! Emergency meeting in the conference room. Edgar says you need to be there. We don’t have much time.” He takes my arm and tells me, “Come on.”

  I didn’t move quite fast enough for his taste, in fact I hold my ground and his hand breaks free of me. He turns and looks confused. I look at Arix who has his smug face on.

  “She could stand a little putting in place and I doubt she’s going anywhere soon.” Arix tells me.

  Percy is again telling me to “Come on!” Dammit. I go with him and we take off trotting down the halls to the conference room.

  We reach the conference room and there are no seats. Many are standing in the room and I find myself a nook amongst the filled room. The screens begin a count down from ten and then populate with faces and overviews of places from all over the world. Of course Alistair’s face is front and center on the most prominent of screens.

  “Are we all here?” he asks and one by one each area acknowledges its presence, including Edgar for us. “Good. Well then, I assume you all see we have an unprecedented attack and public relations nightmare. Keeping ourselves protected from public eyes is paramount. We have heard from Gracia Potentia, they claim they are not involved. We need to be skeptical. Now, what do we know?”

  A dissection of the event takes place using security camera footage. The fact that tourist busses and shipping trucks were used was shared along with facts proving these were taken by force earlier. Nobody answers at the tour company and the owners of the trucks can’t be found. There is analysis of the siege and of the creatures that laid waste to the Vatican.

  Then the video stops on an image of the cowled Ahtsag Znuul holding up a red bracelet to the media.

  “Does anyone here have any idea what this is or why the creature Znuul would make a presentation of it,” asks Alistair.

  There is a moment of silence, but that is broken by Karen’s voice. “It is a locket of my hair, lacquered and made into a bracelet.”

  “For the sake of all that is good, Karen Redditch – you gave that thing a locket of your hair?” Alistair booms. “Is there anything else you might wish to tell us?”

  The screens switch to her face. She is not happy. “I have a matching bracelet of his hair,” she tells the group.

  That revelation brings hushed tones from around all the conferences. Alistair’s voice carries over the top of them. “You have compromised yourself and also withheld valuable artifacts that could have been used to find this creature and prevent all of this.”

  Karen bows up at that. “Just what do you think I’ve been trying to do with it! He has shielded himself somehow, does anyone here think they could scry him better than me? Really?”

  Alistair’s tone changes to more fatherly. “Karen, you just can’t see it can you? You have been manipulated.”

  Karen’s response is sudden and desperate. “You don’t see it. That creature in the video is too small. Ahtsag would never use a foci, he has no need of such things. He’d never hide his face. And if he wanted to send me a personal message, he wouldn’t do it through the media!”

  “You need to give us the bracelet Karen,” Alistair tells her in that fatherly tone. “And you need to step down from this investigation, you are emotionally compromised dear.” From the screen I can see a hand on her shoulder and know it is his. She wilts.

  “The Magerium is putting Karen under protective custody given what we have learned today,” says Alistair. “Karen, you know you are not looking at things clearly?”

  She nods her head and gets up from the table and walks out of the screen’s view.

  All screens are back on Alistair again and he is taking a deep breath. “Events are most unfortunate both at the Vatican and now, here. Still, we must persevere. Let all heads of guilds meet in twelve hours to discuss plans for action.”

  The screens go dark and people begin filtering from the room. I stand still. Karen laid it all out there. She gave Znuul a lock of her hair. He did the same. She does not believe the creature at the Vatican was him. She’s emotionally compromised.

  Damn.

  After the room has mostly emptied out, I grab my phone and dial her up. “The number you have called is no longer in service,” greets me.

  Protective custody works pretty damn fast.

  Chapter 22

  So many thoughts run through my mind on the way back to my room. Znuul’s complicity. Karen’s well being. My family’s safety, they are mostly Catholic and definitely all Christian after all. Upon entering my room, I make a decision to call them immediately. My bunk mate Pffiferil stops me though with a simple question.

  “Did ye undo whatever it was ye did to the wench?”

  I look him in the eyes and he grins. “Glad to be reminding ye then. I’ll be taking it as things are pretty bad?”

  “Yea,” I tell him, then I spill my guts on everything, including my concerns for family.

  He nods and gives me one of those knowing looks he has, when he’s not pie faced from his flask. “Aye, best we pays attention to those things we can be doin’ something about. Like settin’ temptress free from yer curse. She may be a demoness, but she's still one of us. From what I be hearin’ from the sorcerer she’s got a nasty little taste of her own personal hell goin’ on now.”

  I agree that needs to be first course of business and thank him for his sage advice. Pffif offers me his flask for a “wee bit O’ liquid courage.” Without question, Sil’s going to be pissed when she snaps to herself, but the flask isn’t going to help with that, so I decline and head across the hall to her and Vets room.

  I open the door and Sil is still in her little wing-egg. Vets is nowhere to be seen. “Sil,” I call out “I need your attention please.” The wings separate and fol
d to her back. She looks up slowly with vacant green alligator eyes and an expressionless face. She says nothing.

  I reach to my will and choose my words carefully. “Silithes, I spoke in anger and did not mean to cause you harm. You are not worthless. I was wrong. I was angry. I am sorry. You are of value to all of us.”

  Her eyes blink a bit and the expressionism of her face seems to return. Then as quick as hiccup she shoots me a look that literally has me take a step back – it was pure hate, rage and homicidal fury. Then just as quickly she turns her head to look away from me and takes a deep breath. “Thank you for releasing me from that Arthur,” she says in a cool neutral tone and begins to stand.

  Her eyes return to me. “Don’t ever do that again,” she says seriously. She looks away again.

  And I know what’s coming next: the “now to make it up to me…” It’ll be a kiss, a touch, or asking for the full deal. I brace myself and think of replies.

  “I apologize Arthur,” she says instead, looking back to me. “I should have pushed him away. I could have. It’s just nice to be… worshipped.”

  You could knock me over with a breath.

  “Won’t happen again,” she continues. “I didn’t mean to sully your word, I know how much it means to you.”

  “Good,” I say, because I’m without words otherwise. I bring her up to speed with events and pose the question if she noticed anything from her time with Znuul.

  She tells me “no.”

  I ask her to think back all the same. She tells me all she remembers of his thoughts were “Oh yea!” and the feeling of him asserting dominance over her.

  I ask her if she’s sure and she tells me that she was rather “Ooo baby Ooo” herself and wasn’t really focused on gathering intel at the time. That and she reminded me powerful beings such as Znuul are also well known to compartmentalize their thoughts to shield them.

  I direct her to look at the footage and let us know anything that jumps out at her. We leave the room, her going to look at the video and me to return to my room.

  I need to call family and ask them to hold off on attending church until things get under control.

  Chapter 23

  The reverend Martin James looks over his congregation at Saint James in London after having performed the service surrounding the Holy Eucharist. He knows their concerns and knows he needs to speak to them.

  “Before we conclude this service, I wish to address the recent events in light of our mutual faith.” He looks out among the congregation and their eyes are riveted upon him. They need to hear what he has to say. “Let us all know that the words of devils and demons are not words to be trusted. These are dark times indeed. These creatures show themselves to us and attack us so brazenly. But let us not be turned by the words of hellspawn. These are creatures that have been cast down. These are creatures that are not in the grace of God. They tell falsehoods to make us, the faithful and good question ourselves. We shall not hear their lies and we will continue to embrace our love of God and his Son.”

  There is a crash as an object flies through the stained glass window falling to the floor and bursting aflame – a Molotov cocktail. Other windows break in similar fashion with the same result. Flames erupt about the sanctuary. Reverend James calls for calm and for everyone to take their time making their way to the exits.

  Another window breaks and he hears a thump over to the side. He looks over to see a grenade.

  It was the last thing the Reverend Martin James ever saw.

  Panic ensues and the congregation tries to pour out of the church. They are met by an angry mob screaming epithets such as “Infidels!” and “Idolaters!” But words aren’t the only thing the mob is hurling – they are hurling stones and bricks too.

  Many parishioners fall. More fall when automatic gunfire breaks out from somewhere in the mob.

  The constables arrive and are also met with violence. Stones, bricks and gunfire assault them. Re-enforcements come and are met by the same greeting. The riot carries on for hours.

  None of the Saint James congregation were ever given the chance to repent their ways.

  Chapter 24

  Anyone who knows me knows that I don’t do a good job of sitting around patiently. The months that I’ve had to sit around the Techno Mage guild and watch the world unravel have not done well by me. I feel like a wussy all holed up here because Maldgorath may come for me.

  Let him come. Me and Yayne, my holy sword, would like to have a meeting with him - even on a Sunday morning.

  Things are bad. Muslims have risen against Christians. Christians are rising against Muslims. Then, to make things worse Znuul and crew showed up at the Wailing Wall and basically called out Judaism too. It is chaos.

  Unfortunately, Maldy’s plan is going off without a hitch. It’s not that he’s trying to get mankind to destroy itself. His endgame is to have the balance of energy in our realm tip to evil. That way, as it is explained to me, the openings of portals to the Helterzen dimension open faster and stay open longer. Maldy’s endgame, as Edgar theorizes, is to open an army size invasion portal and use our realm as a bridge to T’uel Faeden.

  That was why Znuul originally took the deal to come to our little corner of the multiverse.

  To open a gate to that hell realm requires someone of clear mind and free will on our end to bleed out, creating a sheer wall of blood that is energized by a specific incantation. That’s one reason these portals aren’t commonplace. It basically takes a life from here to allow a life from there to enter.

  I am told that’s how Znuul entered our fair world, long ago. Things must have been very bad for that sacrifice to seem like a better alternative. The legends tell he was brought over to turn the tide in a war that went sour. According to that legend he did, turn the tide - in record time. Of course, then they realized they were stuck with him. The sorcerer that made the bargain to bring Znuul over later tricked him and locked him away, where he laid for thousands of years.

  Until archaeologists uncovered the tomb and Grey bound Znuul in exchange for release – a move that cost Grey his place in the Protectorate.

  Now, Ahtsag Znuul runs free and Grey Lightbringer is no more.

  My review of the lore does raise questions. When Znuul crushed the ancient barbarian armies harrying the pre-Sumerian kingdom of Hyuukal he used a combination of sheer force, summoned creatures and terror in battle, coupled with disease. To point, there’s certainly the terror aspect. But, there has been none of the plague today he used that ravaged the barbarian peoples. In lore, the beast Znuul would wade into enemy encampments alone. Here, he acts more as figurehead.

  Should Znuul now be one of Maldy’s summonlings that would explain much – his behavior would be directed. That’s my theory - and the theory of most whom have either come to know him or the lore.

  Of course, all this is nothing but an exercise in academics.

  The phone in my room rings, breaking my contemplations. Edgar tells me we have new refugees and one of them would like to see me. I ask who and he doesn’t say anything except, “my office, please.”

  Looking forward to a change in routine, I stroll down to Edgar’s office and walk in the open door. I am greeted by the smiling faces of Edgar and Greg Inosanto, the sword of balance himself, along with two very serious, very well dressed oriental gentlemen wearing Ray-Bans.

  “Mac!” Greg shouts out and in a blur is standing in front of me hand outstretched. I shake that hand and pull him into a man-hug. “Can’t help but show off the power, eh?” I whisper to him.

  “If you got it, flaunt it, man,” is Greg’s unashamed response.

  I ask him who his dapper friends are, though I could venture a good guess – warriors of the Shadows of light. Basically ninjas, but good ones. Greg confirms that and introduces me to them. Both Keji Takamura and Yosuke Tsuchida bow ever so slightly and reintroduce themselves. The Shadows are the organization within the Protectorate that has taken responsibility for Greg’s “higher tra
ining.” I am sure they are here to protect their guild’s investment of time and effort. Truth is, Greg doesn’t need much protecting.

  But still, I guess it’s nice to have people there to take care of the light-work.

  I direct Greg back to the chairs, via my hand on his shoulder and get seated in front of Edgar, who for the first time in a long while I see is smiling. “You too are peas in a pod,” he offers.

  We talk about the current events and of course that talk turns to Znuul. Greg’s opinion is that either Znuul is under Maldgorath’s control or an imposter. Either way, he tells us once that creature is in line of sight, it dies. Edgar nods accordingly and says his guild feels the same way that is, once in line of sight the target is going down.

  We share in a bit of macho banter after that and eventually I ask Greg if he came here because he missed me or just couldn’t stand being around Alistair anymore. That brings a belly laugh from Edgar along with a couple hand slaps on the desk.

  Greg turns to me with a wicked smile “Either and both Mac. But truth is that North America hasn’t been hit yet. We are due. I am the hunter after all… does me little good to go where they’ve been. I need to be where they will be.”

  That brought about nods of approval from Kejii and Yosuke. Edgar nods and adds, “Quite true, we have teams at the major Diocese.” I am feeling a little small for not having figured that one out for myself.

  Percy barges in and breaks up our little reunion. He is out of breath and appearing quite stressed. “Mr. MacInerny! They’re hurting your Ms. Silithes – the Paladins. You need to come, now. They were sparring and then he just started hurting her – bad.”

  Greg chuckles a little. I look at Percy knowing he’s little high strung in all things Sil. Then I feel it. Someone is back to the white. One of mine has been slayed.

  Edgar picks up on my twitch and asks what’s happened.

  I look to Edgar and then to Percy. “Not sure, but I think someone just killed my succubus.”