With a small sigh I began to withdraw the strength of my bonds around it and let the threads fail in a controlled fashion. I watched with satisfaction as the field collapsed and I lost sight of my erstwhile assistant. The threads used to construct the rift were still active, but I could see them slowly fading. In time they would disappear and the area would be safe again. It took about five minutes for the last thread to finally sizzle and fail. The structure of the rift was already long gone by that stage, but that didn’t make the final stages any less dangerous.
It took me several more minutes before I was comfortable enough to confirm that the rift had been removed and was no longer a threat. I would like to say that my ability to defuse an exploding rift was made possible by years of skill at manipulating Mana and my understanding of the theory behind basic Mana construction, but to be honest it was probably more dumb luck than anything else. Had Tibus not intervened, the outcome could have been far different.
As much as I wanted to teleport straight to Los Angeles and finish this, it probably wasn’t a good idea. It would be more appropriate to report back to command and let them know about this. Our kind didn’t usually work too well together in the field and it was possible I might run into another of our operatives. It would be better to see who, if anyone else, had been assigned to LA. As much as it pained me, it would be better to follow protocol on this one. The last thing I needed was to get drawn into a fight with a mage from my own side accidently. It had happened in the past.
* * * * * *
My reflection was unforgiving as I stared at myself in the barracks mirror. I needed to get control of these tremors. They had almost cost me my life during my battle with Tibus. I still wasn’t sure where the clarity that had saved my life had come from. I had never experienced such a thing before. My face in the mirror held no answers; in that face I saw what I always saw: my fear.
A polite cough brought my attention to Marcellus standing at my door.
“What is it?”
“You have been instructed to make contact with command.”
“Understood,” I grunted as I ran my hand through my hair.
The necessity of using a field phone rankled me, especially considering that in the blink of an eye I could have teleported back to command and delivered my message in person. It was lucky that we even had a working satellite phone available, due to the bomb that had gone off in the command centre earlier. I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation. It was usually some stiff military command type who had no idea of what they were talking about on the other end. I was pleasantly surprised when a familiar voice greeted me when I picked up the receiver.
“Levenson,” I murmured. “I’m surprised you’re back in operations.”
“It’s an unusual situation,” Levenson replied tersely. “You mentioned something about rifts in your report.”
I spent the next forty minutes explaining my report. Levenson was a burnt-out mage who had lost his powers during his apprenticeship and therefore I didn’t need to explain key concepts. I probably wouldn’t have been able to explain the necessary information to a regular military general.
“That would explain the erratic troop movements we’ve been seeing,” Levenson commented once I had finished.
“It would seem they plan on using LA as a base of operations.” I commented. “I’d like to continue my assault on Tibus. It was only dumb luck that I didn’t get him this time. I can be there and back within the hour.”
“No,” Levenson ordered firmly, “not alone. We will reallocate your division.”
“Bring the whole unit? That seems excessive,” I said. “Besides, we have refugees from New Haven to think of.”
I had only really said that to confuse the issue. I didn’t care much for the safety of the civilians, and I didn’t particularly want to play nursemaid for them. Levenson would know this wasn’t a good use of my abilities anyway, but he could hardly move the whole division. No, sending me in alone was the best solution. I could tell from the silence at the other end of the line that Levenson was considering his options.
“No, this is more important,” Levenson eventually replied. “Yours is not the only report of mages within Los Angeles. I do not want you to going in there by yourself.”
I sighed wistfully. I’d had this conversation about a dozen times previously with command. I didn’t think I’d have to have it with Levenson though. “Soldiers are not going to be sufficient support once the fighting get started.”
“I know,” Levenson cut me off. “We’re going to send in more mages.”
We hadn’t done that before. It boded badly.
“Do I know everything I need to know?” I whispered down the line.
“Everything you should know,” Levenson replied darkly.
Well, that was a politic answer that didn’t really answer my question. I wasn’t surprised though - I didn’t really trust Levenson, even though he had saved my life and been responsible for turning me into what I was today. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or not for his intervention.
CHAPTER FOUR
We received our orders the following morning. We were to make our way to the east coast via Seattle and liaise with our transport. There were more refugee settlements near Seattle where we could offload our civilians. We didn’t have enough trucks to move everyone, so we had to do it the old fashioned way. If I thought I hated travelling by car, I hated travelling by foot even more.
And so we made a small column of about a hundred soldiers and less than fifty civilians and marched towards Seattle. The elderly and children were given priority spots within what truck space we did have, but we also needed to move some of the heavier equipment, so there wasn’t a lot of space. We would probably reach Seattle in about a week, but I hoped that if we pushed ourselves we could make it in four days. That was unlikely given the circumstances; old people and children aren’t exactly fast. I chaffed at the delay and the necessity of remaining with the troops. If the situation were more urgent, I would have contemplated using a rift to move these people. We could have been in Seattle in seconds. But I didn’t trust my understanding enough to attempt it, and the last thing I needed was a wild rift setting off more explosions across the landscape. It was an intriguing option though, and even though I had already discounted it, my mind kept returning to the necessary threads required to summon such a feat. This was probably a good thing; there was precious little else to distract me on the road.
I was quietly surprised that we didn’t encounter any more resistance as we moved our column - our enemy had moved their troops to Los Angeles and given up on this section. That was probably a good thing; I doubted our abilities to defend the column properly in the face of a serious attack. If there was a mage operating in this area, the column would have made a very tempting target.
In the end it took us five days to reach Seattle. The city was mostly untouched by the war, but you could see the signs. The streets were empty, as most of the civilians had fled into the wild. Heavy calibre guns had been placed on the rooftops of the buildings near the main highway into the city. It was like walking into an armed camp.
We were to rendezvous with the USS Abraham Lincoln to ferry us to our new destination. The Lincoln was one of the few remaining aircraft carriers still in service. Something as large as a military aircraft carrier tended to be a target too delicious for most mages to resist. Punching a hole through what is essentially a large metal boat floating in water isn’t exactly rocket science for most of my kind, and the temptation to take out a carrier would have been more than most of my kind could resist. The temptation would have been too much for the old me had my enemies presented such a target.
The only reason this ship had survived was that it had a protector. The daunting figure of Master Glave greeted us as we made our way onto the carrier. He acted as watchman for the battle group. His stern eyes glanced across the soldiers until they rested on me. I grinned mirthlessly as the Mana in his body rose in respo
nse to the threat of another mage in close proximity. I knew without a doubt that my own Mana would be reacting to him in a similar fashion. I had first met Master Glave about two years ago. He was a dour and humourless man without much to recommend him other than his power. He was powerful, not quite as powerful as I had been in my prime, but I was forced to account him as probably my better in my weakened state. The concession rankled against my soul, but I could not deny the truth. Aside from the reminder of my loss, I didn’t much care for the man personally. Anyone who demanded to be called ‘master’ had some serious issues going on, and Glave couldn’t possibly be his real name. This kind of macho name was taken by people who had been given birth names like Clyde or Clarence and felt they needed to compensate for this in their adulthood.
“Master Glave,” I whispered, adding slight sarcasm to the title.
“Master Wills,” he replied curtly. I could literally see the disdain in his eyes as he spoke to me.
“Not, Master,” I replied with a grin. “Just call me Devon.”
I knew this would annoy him more than any insult. He was the sort who found too much pride in rank and accolades, and by refusing my own I was also cheapening his. This wasn’t my only reason for disliking that title though: Master Wills was the name my former teacher had used for me. For that reason alone I would never be comfortable. I was no one’s master and I hadn’t achieved anything that could justify taking the title.
“The Admiral has requested your presence on the bridge,” Glave grunted as I walked past him.
“Understood.”
The aircraft carrier had seen better days. There were obvious signs of recent battle everywhere I looked. The crew looked beaten and in several cases bloody, but still operated with the military precision I had come to expect from the US Navy. The bridge was no exception. The Admiral had his back to me when I entered the bridge, but the rest of the crew was immediately aware of my entrance and saluted accordingly.
“You wanted to see me?” I called over the chatter.
“Master Wills.” He nodded by way of greeting as he waved me over. “I thought you would like to know that we received reports that Gregory Tibus was killed in a battle over Los Angeles yesterday.”
I grunted softly; this wasn’t good news. I had been chasing that bastard for about a year now and I’d missed my shot by only a couple of days? I should have finished him off when I’d had the chance. I regretted not immediately returning to Los Angeles despite my orders. The fact that I hadn’t been the one to bring him down set my teeth on edge. He had been my link to Killian Voll, and I had been so close.
“And Voll?” I prompted.
“No confirmed sightings,” the Admiral replied. “Sightings are getting fewer every day. It’s possible he has already been killed. He has been up to until now the most visible of our targets.”
I nodded grimly. There were as many mage deaths between our own kind from infighting than deaths that could be associated to our foes. It was entirely possible that Voll had been taken down in a petty squabble with some renegade mage, but I didn’t believe it. There were still too many unaccounted for; for one, my former master Victor was still out there and I refused to believe he would have fallen to some piddling mage. No, there was no one out there capable of taking him down. No one yet, I amended silently.
“In short, it looks like this war may soon be over,” the Admiral concluded.
“This is good news.” I commented, not believing a word of it.
“Yes, it means that things can return to normal without further intervention from your kind.”
I nodded uncomfortably. I had no idea what my place in the new world was going to be. I was a product of the old world – our kind had no place in the coming world and we knew it. That was okay by me though; I could deal with that provided I’d taken out my former master before I fell. I often wondered how others of my kind had planned on dealing with this new world. They must have plans. Or were they simply living day to day like everyone else? When this war started it seemed those who had made plans were the ones who suffered most for it.
“How reliable is the report of Tibus’s death?”
Our reports of mage death weren’t always reliable. A mage battle wasn’t a good place for witnesses and what looked like the end of the battle from afar may simply just have been teleportation.
“Reliable,” the Admiral continued. “It’s been verified by your kind.”
“Who?”
“Stanley Kristoff.”
That was good, I liked him. I hadn’t known of him before the war at all and had only met him briefly during the battle of New York. He had been a good mage though, and it seemed he hadn’t been allied with either Marcus or Victor. This was unusual for a mage of any power, as both sides had openly courted those with power. This indicated that he wasn’t amongst the most powerful of our kind, but he was trustworthy, which was more than you could say about most mages.
“We received confirmation of Tibus’s death and then nothing. Kristoff’s team failed to check in.”
Well, that sucked. There was only one reason he would fail to check in. He would be missed. Still, perhaps some good could come out of this. Kristoff wasn’t the most powerful mage, but he wasn’t weak either - only someone truly competent could have taken him out.
“Voll?”
“It’s possible,” the Admiral confirmed, “but unlikely. Our last reports have him somewhere in central China.”
I didn’t need to tell him that his movement reports were never going to be accurate. I shouldn’t have to. He should have known. Our kind’s activities weren’t exactly unknown, especially teleportation. I’d often told command that any survey data on our movements were next to useless, but still most commanders seemed to fall back to the old ways. This was fine when it came down to troop movements and the like, but when you were hunting mages, the last report of their location was a rough guide at best. I was sure that the Admiral was a good sailor and had served his country well, but this was just another example of old-school thinking. The military just couldn’t grasp that they weren’t fighting enemy soldiers. They were fighting enemy mages who didn’t respect or even understand the traditional rules of combat. My opinion of this Admiral immediately lowered.
“How long until we’re in Los Angeles?”
* * * * * *
My meeting with the Admiral hadn’t exactly gone as I had hoped. I stormed through the corridors of the ship, trying to find where I had been quartered. I hated these ships as I could never find anything. The confined spaces of the corridors and smaller rooms almost begged to illicit claustrophobia. I vaguely thought about using a scry to find Marcellus, but rejected the idea as this would probably have alerted Glave, who was so tightly wound he would assume it was an attack. I had no wish to encounter him again if I could possibly avoid it. I must have circumnavigated the ship three times and I still didn’t seem any closer to finding my quarters.
“Master Wills?” a voice called out from across the corridor.
I turned to see a small woman chasing after me down the crowded hall, colliding with other members of the ship as she struggled to catch me. She seemed to be having as much trouble navigating through the busy corridors as I did. The difference was that crew members actively moved out of my way. They offered her no such courtesy.
“I thought it was you!” she huffed breathlessly when she finally managed to catch me. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you walk past.”
“Have we met?” I inquired softly. I didn’t remember ever meeting this woman before.
“No, but I’ve seen you from the news clips.”
I had hardly been an active figure publically. I preferred to be more of an ‘operate from behind the scenes’ kind of guy. I had left the political stuff to people like Levenson and those better able to portray the kind of bravura required for public office. This woman must have spent quite some time going through old news feeds if she had acquired more than 5 minutes foota
ge of me.
“You must have done your research well then,” I replied crisply as I turned to go.
“Wait!” she said, reaching out to stop me.
“What is it?” I shook her hand from my shoulder.
“Would you allow me to interview you?”
“Who are you?” I laughed, amazed at her request. “And why on earth would you want to interview me?”
This seemed to throw her into confusion for a second. It was clear that she had thought the answer would be obvious as to why someone would want to interview me. It wasn’t; I was genuinely curious.
“My name is Emily Perry and I am, or used to be, a reporter. I’m writing a book on this war and I’d love to get a take on your experiences.”
“You don’t want my experiences,” I murmured bitterly. The last thing I wanted to do was be interviewed by this girl, but it didn’t look like she was going to be swayed easily. She even had her notebook out to record anything I said. There was going to be no easy way out of this. She would pursue this with the tenacity of a bulldog seeking food. She had that look about her.
“You were the first, you were right there at the start!” she continued, undaunted by the unimpressed expression on my face.
There was nothing for it. I had hoped I would never need to do this again. I had come across the technique accidently. I quickly glanced around, but no one was paying us any attention in this section of the corridor. I breathed out as I summoned the power into my hands, sickened by the feel of the corrupted Mana slowing down my arm. The frequency of this power wasn’t enjoyable. I endured the discomfort as I let the power flow to my fingers. It was similar to the necromantic thread I had used a few days ago, but it was different - this was far more insidious.
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