Thaumatology 08 - Ancient

by Teasdale, Niall

  It was almost one o’clock when Ceri noticed the slowly growing mass of negative energy building. ‘I have something.’ Her voice was little more than a whisper.

  ‘Where?’ Lily was suddenly at her side. Her long, auburn hair drifted in a breeze which was not in the air.

  ‘Wait…’ It was almost like a pressure building in a corner of Ceri’s mind. Negative force particles of thaumic energy, a bending of the world’s magic field in one small area. ‘It’s above ground… they must have somehow cleared the patrols…’ She narrowed her search, tightening her field of vision, closing in on the site. It became easier as more of them gathered… ‘Blackwall. The gas works in the bend of the river. The Lee. The gasworks in the bend in the Lee.’ Her eyes snapped open and she let the spell die. ‘Got them!’

  The pack relaxed and Ceri let out a gasp as the power was withdrawn. ‘That’s almost in Dolf’s territory,’ Alexandra said.

  Ceri looked at her. ‘You think he’d work with us on this?’

  ‘I think,’ Alexandra said with a smile, ‘that for this he’ll even join up with the Marshwallers. We’ll hit them with three packs under Luperca’s banner. Anita, we need to move fast. Send out messengers. I want as many wolves as we can get ready to hit them within thirty minutes.’

  ‘All right,’ Ceri said, climbing to her feet. ‘Lily and I will go ahead to scout. I’ll contact Michael with the information.’

  ‘Be careful, dear,’ the Alpha replied. ‘They’re vampires, and it’s night. They’re at their best.’

  Ceri gave her a grin. ‘So are you guys. Just be careful getting there. You’ll need to avoid the human patrols.’

  ‘I’ve got an idea about that,’ Lily said, taking out her phone. Ceri raised an eyebrow. ‘Trust me, this’ll be good.’

  Blackwall

  ‘That was mean,’ Ceri whispered as they edged around one of the huge gasometers. ‘I mean, it was great, and genius, and awesome, but really mean.’

  ‘It’ll get them out of this part of London,’ Lily replied from in front of her. She had both her daggers held ready and had come dressed in the long, wide, gypsy skirt she wore when she was expecting to have to carve someone up. Tight leather, she said, looked great, but it was like moving in a straightjacket.

  ‘I didn’t even know you had Kipple’s number.’

  ‘He practically forced it on me. He said if I ever wanted to try a gremlin, I should make sure I brought you too.’

  Ceri grimaced. Kipple was a gremlin, a technology fae. He had helped them crack the encryption on a computer once, at the cost of Ceri curing of a particularly disgusting curse by kissing him. Right now he was busy making sure the switchboards at New Scotland Yard were jammed with people reporting vampires massing in northern London. ‘What’s it going to cost us this time?’

  ‘Nothing. He said the Black Lady had made it known that any fae helping to defeat Raynor would be in her good books.’ The half-succubus stopped, indicating that she could see something. ‘That’s worth more than anything we could offer. There they are. God, Ceri, there’s hundreds of them!’

  Ceri edged closer and looked past her lover to the flat area which occupied maybe a quarter off the gas works. It was heaving with pale figures made paler by the moonlight. None of them were looking their way, which was a plus. Everyone’s attention was on the man standing in the middle of the gathering. Tall, handsome, and just as pale as the other vamps, Raynor gave off an air of arrogance even from here. She could hear him speaking in a strong, German accented voice.

  ‘Brothers, Sisters, our time is near.’ Ceri focussed her will and began the spell to connect her mind to Michael’s. ‘Our numbers grow and our position is assured. Soon we will be ready to act and the streets will run red with the blood of the humans.’ There was almost no resistance and suddenly Ceri knew that the Battersea pack were less than ten minutes away and had encountered no problems. They had already met the Marshwallers and a messenger from the Dog Boys. And Michael knew what would be facing them when they arrived.

  The roar of the crowd which had followed Raynor’s triumphal statement died away and he went on. ‘We have had some fun tonight, have we not?’ Another roar, this time of agreement. ‘And we will have more before the sun comes up. The humans stay away from our gatherings for fear of our power. In two more nights we will take this city. The living, supernatural or not, will flee from us. Those who do not will be our slaves to bleed as we wish.’

  ‘Hurry,’ Ceri thought to Michael, and then broke the connection. Her palms were sweating and she tucked her staff into the crook of her elbow to wipe them on her shirt. It was warm, but there was a strong wind whipping around the huge tower.

  ‘We are the masters of this world!’ Raynor roared out across the waste ground, receiving another ovation from the crowd. ‘Soon we will fulfil the destiny which has awaited us for thousands of years! Nothing can stop us. Our time has come. The Time of Blood has come! The Cult of Blood will be victorious!’

  Lily’s elbow tapped Ceri in the ribs and she looked where the half-succubus was pointing. The Dog Boys had arrived. Dozens of werewolves streaming in through the Leven Road gate and fanning out along the fence. The wind was with them, coming from the north-west and keeping their scent from the vampires, but if anyone looked their way… ‘You think they might attack without the other packs?’ Lily whispered.

  ‘They might have to,’ Ceri replied. ‘He’s hit his climax. They’ll break up soon.’ She began to build power in her right hand, drawing it through her staff. ‘If they have to go, they’ll have some artillery on their side. Try to keep the vamps off me.’

  Raynor was still basking in the shouts of “Shed blood!” and “Raynor!” The longer they kept the time-wasting rabble-rousing up the better as far as Ceri was concerned. The arrogant Ancient seemed happy to let them continue as long as they wanted too. Idiot. Then again, he had no idea what was coming.

  ‘Bothers!’ Raynor yelled eventually. ‘Sisters in Blood!’ The crowd slowly quieted down. ‘Go now. Bring terror to this city of mortals and fools. Go now and shed the blood of the unworthy!’ The crowd burst into cheers again, but the vampires at the edge were starting to slowly move outward.

  ‘Now or never,’ Ceri said and launched the ball of orange light she was holding. Whether they took that as a signal or had decided to move on their own, Ceri did not know, but the wolves started running toward the vampires at the same time. The orange globe began to spark as it looped over the crowd and fell. The vampires were still screaming and calling out to their leader as it dropped into them and exploded.

  ‘Holy shit!’ Lily exclaimed as fire enveloped a thirty yard radius, blasting vampires into cindered corpses, igniting clothes and hair, and turning the night into day for a second. As the blast died away, the pack hit the first ranks of vampires, and Ceri started building her next fireball.

  ‘We need to get closer,’ Ceri said. ‘We need to get to Raynor.’

  Lily set her jaw and moved forward. The vampires were too busy with the werewolves and the fireball’s source had gone unseen for now, but that was not going to last. Ceri could see Raynor yelling orders, but his voice was lost in the clamour of battle. The Ancient was being a good general and leading from the back. There were vampires sweeping around to flank the wolves and Ceri knew she needed to do something. A second fireball, smaller than the first, but still lethal, flew out, blasting into the flanking wing, and now the vampires knew where the fire was coming from. Raynor was pointing their way and the flanking movement was turned into an outward swing toward Ceri and Lily.

  ‘At least they aren’t attacking our wolves,’ Ceri said.

  ‘I never took you for that much of an optimist.’

  They had a second, not much more. It was enough time for Ceri to throw a third ball of fire into the oncoming vamps, thinning the front wave of them a little. Then she set her staff in her hands and got ready to fight. There were too many of them, far too many. She risked a quick look around and s
aw the other packs streaming in through the gate, but they were too far away to help. Ceri saw the gleam of moonlight on fangs, the glint on fanatical, manic eyes. They were battle-crazed, berserk. This was going to hurt.

  And then they were surrounded by vampires. Not the young ones Raynor had made and recruited; these were old and not trying to hide it. One moment they were standing alone against a horde of vampires, the next there was a phalanx of undead guarding them, and they were not angry, not fanatical, not berserk, these were cold and controlled, and far more powerful than the youths they were facing.

  ‘I called the Dubh Linn too,’ Lily yelled.

  Fire burst all along through the horde of vampires and Ceri glanced around, searching for the source. She found them on the gasometers; ranks of fae preparing spells. It was hard to tell, but Ceri thought there were Seelie and Unseelie up there working together.

  ‘We’re moving in,’ Lily said, drawing her attention back to the fight. The older vamps were now pushing forward, cold and calm and vicious, through Raynor’s soldiers. Ceri summoned up another fireball as they moved, tossing it forward into the tightly packed horde and hearing the screams.

  There was plenty of screaming. The younger vamps were worked up, fanatical, but they were facing their own kind with decades of experience and werewolves who spent a lot of their off-time learning how to be better killers. It was carnage. Ceri almost felt sorry for them. Almost. They had picked their side based on a promise of power, most of them. Well, power had to be earned and they were certainly having to earn it now.

  A particularly energetic, and rather acrobatic, vampire managed to vault over the wall of protectors around Ceri and Lily. Ceri gasped, surprised as claws and fangs appeared before her. She struggled to get her staff in the way and blocked one blow, fire ripped through her left arm as the vamp’s claws scraped down her bicep. And then Lily was there, screaming in anger and slamming her daggers into the vampire’s chest. She ripped the curved blades back out again and the creature’s dead eyes became confused and pained as he staggered back. Lily turned, whipping around to add force to her blow, and her knives passed, one before the other, through the vampire’s throat.

  Ignoring the stinging pain and the blood running down her arm, Ceri looked up and saw Raynor. He was turning, preparing to run. Fire from the fae mages erupted to his left and he staggered to one side, stumbling and then pulling himself to his feet. He looked slow, confused, as though the battle going against him was revealing his true colours. He was afraid; as she watched, darkness gathered around him as he prepared to flee. Ceri pulled power through her staff. There was no way she could let him escape. His back was to her and he was starting to run when she launched another fireball. It hit him right between the shoulder blades and the darkness twisting around him exploded into light.

  It was as if the fight just drained out of Raynor’s vampires. He had to be dead. One moment the gas works was full of undead fighting for the glory of the Cult of Blood, the next they were falling back before angry werewolves and surrendering. Within a few minutes, Raynor’s vamps were kneeling, their hands on their heads, in a ring of werewolves who stood over them doing a very good job of looking menacing. The older vamps were moving through them and, occasionally, Ceri would hear a scream, suddenly cut off, as something older who had been foolish enough to join Raynor’s ranks was executed. She did her best to ignore what was going on as she searched through the wolves.

  She found Michael, and Anita, standing guard over Alexandra while she worked on wounded werewolves to one side of the main throng. The old Alpha was naked and there was blood on her right thigh which looked like it was her own; she had not stood back and left the fighting to the younger wolves.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Ceri asked. Both Michael and Anita, still in fur, were covered in blood, but she could see no wounds; it was likely vampire blood.

  ‘I’m fine, dear,’ Alexandra replied. Her fingers flickered with light as she sealed a wound in a man’s leg. ‘I caught an unlucky claw in the leg, but that healed while I was furry. I barely got to hit anyone with those two guarding me.’ Michael actually looked a little sheepish. ‘I have most of the minor wounds covered. Could you see to Dolf?’

  Ceri looked around and spotted Bea kneeling over someone. She looked upset, almost frantic, and Ceri hurried over to her. She was an impressive woman, like her sister, and being covered in vampire blood just made her more impressive. Ceri’s attention was drawn immediately to her mate, however. Dolf had a ragged wound on his throat and something had practically opened his stomach from one side to the other.

  Bea looked up as Ceri knelt across from her. ‘He went right in,’ she half-sobbed. ‘Right in the first rank. Fought like a demon, but there must have been six of them hanging off him when we tore them off.’ From the way she said “tore” Ceri got the impression that none of the vampires had lived much longer. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been so proud of him.’ She swallowed. ‘Alexandra said she couldn’t help him. He’s too badly hurt.’

  Ceri began pulling power through her staff. ‘As Alexandra occasionally reminds me, I can pull way more power than she can, and I’m not losing an Alpha tonight.’ Light grew around her hand, burning brighter and brighter as she focussed it. Her mind filled with the injuries Dolf had suffered; lacerations, damaged organs. The stomach wound was deeper than it looked and he had lost a lot of blood from the gash in his throat which Bea was trying to block with a now blood-soaked bandage. ‘Come on, you irritating bastard,’ Ceri growled, ‘you’ve done something good for once in your life. You’re not allowed to die now.’ She placed her hand flat on his chest and the light wrapped around him in a burning nimbus. His back arched off the dirt and his teeth clench. Bea let out a yelp of surprise and fell backwards. Even as she hurried to put pressure back on his neck wound, she could see the skin reknitting and stopped. Ceri held the spell for perhaps fifteen seconds and then lifted her hand, leaving Dolf to relax back onto the ground with a sigh.

  His eyes opened and he looked around. ‘Damn,’ he growled, ‘if this is Valhalla, I could get used to it.’

  Bea reached out and slapped his shoulder with a blood-soaked hand. ‘You’re not dying today, you old fool, and I doubt Ceri or Lily are going to give you any tail any time soon.’

  ‘You did good for once, Dolf,’ Ceri told him. ‘Your pack could have taken a lot of damage rushing in when you did.’

  ‘They were breaking up,’ he replied. ‘Had to hold them here ‘til the others arrived. And you were throwing fireballs in. If a human can risk her life over it, a werewolf should be ready to.’

  Ceri gave him a smile. The Dog Boys had a reputation among the werewolves as a weak, rather foolish pack. Most of the other packs looked down on them. They had been among the first to side with Remus when he had sent emissaries into London. She had the feeling that their reputation might improve after tonight.

  ‘You think you could help some of the others,’ he said. ‘We did take some heavy hits before the others turned up.’

  Ceri nodded. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘That’s the least I can do.’ Standing, she moved toward the next fallen wolf in the little triage area.

  ‘We did it,’ Lily said as they walked. ‘We killed the ancient bastard.’

  Nodding, Ceri knelt down next to a girl with four huge gashes in her right arm, almost tearing the muscle away. She sighed and summoned up her power again. ‘Yes, it looks like we won,’ she said. Her words were punctuated by a high-pitched scream from among the vampires; another old one executed by her fellows. Ceri flinched, and ignored it, and kept on healing.

  Part Seven: Post Bellum

  Soho, London, June 9th, 2012

  Five nights after the full moon werewolves were usually becoming a lot less boisterous, but not this time. The Jade Dragon was reopening and, after the “fun” of the last few weeks, Carter had decided to lay on something a little special, as well as marking down all the drinks for the night.

  The Collar Club wo
uld not be opening until next week, so one of its most popular and exotic dancers, Naira the were-panther, was dancing on one end of the bar. Actually on the bar! In full fur with her long, black tail sweeping around her, the sexy feline woman was dancing, and twirling, and performing the kind of moves you saw gymnasts do on balance bars as though she had been doing this kind of thing her entire life. It was distracting, at least for Ceri, though she was pretty sure she was not alone.

  The waitresses had been dressed up in two-piece, fur swimsuits, leopard print ones, their shins and forearms wrapped in matching fur. They were barefoot, instead of in heels, but between the party atmosphere and the fact that it was, frankly, less painful than usual, all four girls had a strut in their step. They more or less pranced around the room with arched backs, and giggled at the playful werewolves who took up most of the tables. Ceri was even letting more hands connect than usual; Michael was sitting up at the bar and none of the wolves were going to really try anything with her mate there watching.

  Cheryl was also at the bar, sat on a stool next to Carter. She was dressed in the same kind of fur swimsuit as the waitresses, with an added sarong to add a little decorum. Apparently it had been her suggestion and she was thoroughly enjoying herself, chatting happily with Carter, Alec, and Jasmine, who was Naira’s were-fox partner.

  It really was a party; everyone was celebrating the return to near normality. Near normality because the repercussions of what was being called “the Blood War” were still playing out. There were no vampires in the club and out in the city Ceri knew that various older vamps were still working their way through the undead population making sure that none of Raynor’s recruits had any ideas about continuing his campaign. It was a witch hunt, and not the only one going on.