by Edward Cox
‘What was that?’ Samuel demanded.
‘The audio function has been deactivated,’ Gideon replied, casting a frown around the room. ‘I can’t reactivate it.’
‘What’s he up to?’ Samuel swore. ‘I should’ve gone with him.’
‘To do what, Samuel?’ Gideon snapped. ‘Hold his hand?’
‘This is obviously a part of Amilee’s instructions,’ Hamir said before Samuel and Gideon could start arguing again. ‘Evidently, we are allowed to see but not hear.’
Although Denton kept his back to the group, he was obviously speaking to the Genii. Moor opened his eyes and looked up at the empath. A quirky smile played across his lips as he listened.
Gideon cursed. He had clearly tried and failed to reinitiate the audio function again. ‘Amilee has done her job well. The Nightshade won’t obey my command.’
Whatever Denton was saying, it caused Moor to pull an impressed face.
‘That’s more than I ever got out of him,’ Hamir said, suspicion lacing his voice. ‘Interesting. I sincerely hope Amilee knows what she’s doing.’
‘I’ve been saying that for a long time,’ Gideon whispered.
‘Denton knows what he’s doing,’ Samuel said, as much to convince himself as the others.
Moor leaned back and considered Denton for a long moment. And then, to everyone’s astonishment, he spoke.
‘Hamir,’ Gideon snapped. ‘Can you tell what he’s saying?’
The necromancer shook his head.
‘Van Bam can read lips,’ Samuel said.
‘Well, Van Bam isn’t here, is he?’ Gideon growled. ‘He’s probably off fooling around with Denton’s damned pupil.’
Samuel tried to read Moor’s lips himself but could only guess that he had said the word mirrors before touching a fingertip to his temple and saying something that might have been, I know.
But the moment was interrupted by someone else arriving at the warehouse. With hatred on her face and a pistol in her hand, Macy stepped through the door.
‘What in the Timewatcher’s name is she doing there?’ Gideon hissed, moving towards the image.
Macy aimed the pistol at Moor, shouting at him. Denton, clearly reacting to unforeseen circumstances, approached Macy with one hand raised in a calming gesture. She didn’t listen. She squeezed off three shots at Moor. The Genii shook his head, amused and perplexed by Macy’s actions as each bullet hit the light of thaumaturgy and disappeared.
‘She is blinded by grief,’ Hamir said.
‘Damn idiot!’ Gideon shouted.
Macy’s expression glazed and she dropped the pistol. Evidently Denton was using his empathic magic to control the emotions steering Macy’s actions. Like a sleepwalker, she turned and began heading out of the warehouse.
‘Wait a moment,’ Hamir said, staring intently at the image. ‘Look at the Genii.’
Moor mouthed the word no, and Macy stopped. She jerked as though she had been tugged from behind before falling into a sitting position. Some invisible force dragged Macy across the warehouse floor, through the purple glare of the thaumaturgic prison and into Fabian Moor’s arms. The Genii pulled her head back, exposed her throat and sank his teeth into her flesh.
As Samuel and Gideon looked on in horror, Hamir exclaimed, ‘Impossible! He’s using higher magic!’
Denton was beside himself, and he was obviously begging Moor to stop. Macy barely struggled. Her mouth open, her expression one of shock rather than pain, she could do nothing as Moor fed on her blood.
‘Why is this happening, Hamir?’ Gideon demanded. ‘That prison is supposed to suppress thaumaturgy!’
‘I must have missed something,’ Hamir said, sounding helpless. ‘Some flaw in the prison’s design …’
Samuel’s heart urged him to rush to the aid of his fellow agents; but cold logic reminded him that the full fifty-mile length of Labrys Town separated the Nightshade and the warehouse.
‘Run,’ Samuel hissed. ‘Denton, run!’
But the old empath only watched as Moor finished feeding and pushed his meal aside. Her throat torn and red, Macy twitched and convulsed as the Genii’s virus took hold inside her. With preternatural motion conjured by magic which should have been suppressed, Moor propelled himself to his feet. He opened his arms wide and his skin absorbed the purple light radiating from the thaumaturgic symbols on the floor beneath him. Macy’s blood was smeared across his face and dripped down his naked body.
When the light had gone, Moor glared at Denton and his mouth moved. Samuel made out his words clearly this time: Shall we begin?
Denton looked back into the observation room with the saddest expression Samuel had ever seen on his old and ruddy face.
‘Shit,’ Samuel blurted. ‘The device …’
On the elevator platform, the power stones surrounding the sphere began to blaze with violet light. The murky water within the sphere darkened to night. The glass containment box cracked and shattered.
‘Denton, get out of there!’ Gideon roared.
But it was too late. The glass sphere exploded, releasing a mass of black shadow which instantly filled the warehouse. The view from the Nightshade became obscured, as though a storm cloud had passed before the eye. When it cleared, Fabian Moor and Macy were gone. And so was Denton.
In a shabby one-room apartment above a bakery in the eastern district, Marney lay in bed with Van Bam; naked, tangled in sheets and each other’s arms. It was late evening and the fading glow of the sun illuminated the threadbare curtains drawn across the window. In a few hours, Ruby Moon would rise, clouds would gather and the rains would come.
Marney decided – deeply, in every part of her soul – that there was nowhere else she would rather be at that moment than in this apartment, in her lover’s arms.
She and Van Bam had cried together, laughed a little, and made love like the end of times began tomorrow. But nothing could fully erase the troubles from their minds. The loss of friends, the things they had seen and done – they hung over the magickers like a nightmare waiting to creep into their dreams. It seemed impossible to Marney that, after all she had been through, she had been an agent of the Relic Guild for less than seven months. Eighteen felt entirely too young for someone who had experienced as much as she had. But that was the truth of it. She wondered if she had become an older woman trapped in a young woman’s body.
‘It’s strange, don’t you think?’ Marney said, her voice sounding alien in the stillness. ‘That we have to keep so many secrets from each other?’
‘Lady Amilee has her reasons,’ Van Bam replied sleepily. ‘I trust in that.’
‘I’m not sure that I do. Not any more.’ Marney held him tighter. ‘Some of things Denton and I had to do—’
‘Marney, stop,’ Van Bam said gently. ‘To disregard Lady Amilee’s orders would be to break the trust of the Relic Guild. We have not earned that right simply because we are lovers.’
He spoke only the truth, and Marney hated that. But she was an empath. She could feel the troubles her lover carried, and that they formed a hurt inside him that was personal and nothing to do with any fear he might feel for the secrets he had learned.
‘I’m not saying we should break anyone’s trust,’ Marney told him. ‘But we’re still allowed to tell each other how we’re feeling, aren’t we?’
Van Bam thought for a moment before conceding Marney’s point with a sigh. ‘I keep running events over and over in my mind, trying to find something new, but I cannot see how I could have prevented Angel’s death.’ He sat up and rubbed his face as though trying to clean away bad memories. ‘I keep telling myself I am not responsible – I know I am not – yet I blame myself nonetheless.’
Marney absorbed his emotions, felt what he felt. ‘You saw her die.’
‘She called my name, Marney. The look in her eyes … Angel was beggi
ng me for help I could not give. And … and she wasn’t the only one I failed to save. There was …’
His voice cracked and he broke off.
Marney traced a finger down his bare back. ‘There was who, Van Bam?’
‘Namji.’
‘Namji?’ At the mention of the name, Marney quashed a selfish pang of dislike. She had met Namji once and really hadn’t liked her – mostly because of her obvious affection for Van Bam. ‘What happened to her?’
‘I do not know,’ Van Bam replied. ‘Namji was innocent, Marney. I promised to save her from the war, to deliver her to the safety of Labrys Town, but … in the end, I had no choice but to leave her behind. I somehow doubt she survived whatever happened next in Mirage.’
Marney embraced Van Bam from behind, wrapping her legs around his waist. ‘It’s always the personal that blurs the bigger picture, don’t you think?’ She kissed the back of his neck. ‘Nothing ever seems fair.’
‘I sometimes wonder if it is the Relic Guild’s lot to be defined by our regrets.’ Van Bam placed his hands over Marney’s. ‘And what of you? What regrets are too strong for even an empath to stop feeling?’
Marney closed her eyes and told Van Bam all she could.
She spoke about her journey with Denton – though not where they had been or their final destination. She told him how she had seen the war and watched creatures of higher magic fighting – though she spared her lover’s feeling by not mentioning that she had glimpsed Buyaal, the Genii who had subjugated House Mirage and murdered Angel. She talked of the moments when she had almost died, when she thought she would never see Van Bam again. And she lamented the people who had died by her hand.
‘But do you know the one thing that stands out to me – that will probably haunt me for the rest of my life?’ Marney stared at the fading sunlight illuminating the curtains. ‘There was an Aelfirian soldier – his name was Morren – and he lost his life helping Denton and me. I mean, I hardly knew him, Van Bam, but after everything I went through, his death stays with me the most. When Denton’s finished with Moor, we’re going to raise a drink in his honour.’
‘Some people simply make an impression, no matter how briefly they affect our lives.’ There was a hidden quality to Van Bam’s words, and Marney could feel him thinking about secrets he could not share. ‘Others die unremembered. At least you and Denton will ensure that Morren is not one of them. We will drink to Angel and Gene and Bryant, too.’
‘And Namji,’ Marney said, rubbing a finger over her lips. ‘We don’t always get to choose what we remember and what we don’t.’
Marney still felt an absence inside her, as though something was missing, and she was now convinced that her memories of the Library of Glass and Mirrors had been stolen. Had Denton taken them? Did he, like Amilee, have good reasons for keeping secrets from her?
‘There is more, Marney.’ Sadness rose in Van Bam again. ‘In Mirage, Angel and I spoke about my relationship with you. She was of the opinion that life would be easier for us should we stop being involved romantically.’
Marney leaned away from him. ‘What?’
‘Because of Gideon,’ Van Bam added quickly.
‘Oh.’
Just the mention of the Resident’s name soured the ambience in the apartment. Gideon didn’t like his agents having anything other than platonic relationships. He had been meddling with Marney’s and Van Bam’s duties for the Relic Guild, fixing things so they were kept apart.
‘Angel said that Gideon would only get worse,’ said Van Bam. ‘She reasoned that it might be wise to end our relationship on our terms rather than his.’
Marney felt his sadness deepen, and she dispelled it by emoting love back him.
‘No, you can’t get rid of me that easily,’ she said with a smile. ‘Our relationship brings me hope. I’m not giving you up.’
‘I feel the same, but …’ Van Bam turned to face her. ‘I wish I shared your confidence.’
‘Listen to me, Van Bam.’ Marney cupped his face. ‘Denton and me, we met this secret service officer who said that Spiral is growing weaker by the day. He said the war would be over soon.’
‘Truly?’
‘Think about that, Van Bam. We could use the doorways in the Great Labyrinth again, visit the Aelfir, travel across the Houses together.’
‘We could run away – elope.’ Van Bam kissed her. ‘I like this hope of yours, Marney.’
The moment broke as Marney became aware of a new presence. Someone had climbed up the fire escape. She had a moment to recognise the owner of the hard, unapproachable emotions before a knock came at the window.
Van Bam jumped from the bed, grabbing his cane of green glass.
‘It’s Samuel,’ Marney whispered.
‘Samuel?’
‘Something’s wrong.’
Wrapping the bed sheet around him, Van Bam strode to the window and opened it.
‘We’ve got a problem,’ Samuel’s gruff voice said. ‘Is Marney with you?’
‘Yes,’ said Van Bam.
‘Gideon wants everyone at the Nightshade. Now.’ Marney heard the chill in Samuel’s voice. ‘Fabian Moor escaped. He infected Macy. He … He’s got Denton.’
Chapter Fourteen
Reunion
The Tower of the Skywatcher was under siege.
The domed ceiling of Amilee’s observatory was alive with grim and silent images of the chaos taking place outside. Great beasts soared through the smoky sky on wings of taloned leather and burning feathers. Countless foot soldiers full of battle lust, monsters of war and death and disease, rushed the tower like a charging herd, trying to scale the sheer walls, while mighty giants as tall as trees pounded on the doors with boulder-sized fists. Organised, subservient, controlled. The Retrospective had brought an invasion force of wild demons to Lady Amilee’s House, along with final confirmation that Lord Iblisha Spiral was free.
Samuel paced the observatory’s glass floor, clenching and unclenching his fists, staring at the hateful images above. Clara and Lady Amilee watched him. Over by the elevator, the Toymaker stood still and silent, illuminated by the many lights shining from the interconnected automatons that formed its framework body. Apparently the Toymaker was now Clara’s bodyguard but its presence irritated the old bounty hunter. He looked up at the Retrospective again.
‘I hope the defences hold,’ Samuel muttered. ‘If those demons get inside this tower, there’ll be no—’
‘Samuel,’ Amilee interrupted, softly yet sternly, ‘Gulduur Bellow will provide us with the time we need.’ She was clearly losing patience with him. ‘Perhaps you should accept that and calm down.’
How could he calm down when his magic was a bad, sickening feeling in his gut, preparing him for the many terrible things to come? ‘You think Bellow can protect us if Spiral decides to join his …’ He thrust a hand at the domed ceiling. ‘His troops?’
‘Spiral won’t come for me – not yet,’ Amilee said, also looking up at the images. ‘Sending the Retrospective here is a message. He’s telling me that he knows where I am, but that I am nothing compared to him. He wants me to watch as he crushes the realms around me. But what Spiral doesn’t appreciate is that I know he doesn’t yet have all the power he requires. At this moment, we are protected from his demons.’
‘Not very comforting,’ Samuel grumbled. ‘How much time can Bellow buy us?’
‘Time enough,’ Clara stated harshly, and Samuel glared at her.
The Nephilim was in a different part of the tower, working his blood-magic to bolster its defences. Although he had been able to return power to the observatory and prevent the demons from entering Amilee’s home, he was not strong enough to return her House to its former glory or reignite the Skywatcher’s thaumaturgy.
Patience and diplomacy had never been Samuel’s strong points. He didn’t know where Hille
m, Glogelder and Hamir were and he didn’t care. Marney had struggled to regain full consciousness and Namji was with her, administering healing spells. And that left Samuel to deal with the bizarre and overwhelming information that Clara had brought back from her journey into Known Things.
The weight of the Retrospective loomed, as though it might descend from the dome at any moment with the full hate of dead time.
‘All right,’ Samuel said to Clara. ‘Denton’s ghost was the avatar, but he’s gone now. And so is Gideon. I understand that.’ He pointed a finger at her. ‘But if you’re the Resident, then Van Bam must be in your mind.’
‘He is.’ Clara cocked her head to one side as if listening to something. ‘And he says you should get a grip.’
‘Does he? Well, tell him that’s easy for him to say.’
‘He can hear you through my ears, Samuel. And see you through my eyes.’
‘I know how it works,’ Samuel snapped, and he continued to pace.
Amilee turned a bemused expression on Clara. ‘Is he always like this?’
‘Pretty much. Samuel, you’re not helping the situation.’
The changeling’s voice held the same depth of authority that Van Bam had once commanded.
Clara had changed so much from the awkward, desperate girl Samuel had first met. Having won the war against her own magic, no longer frightened of her own shadow, she had overcome more adversity than Samuel reasoned he could have dealt with at eighteen years old. Clara stood straight and proud in her dark grey magically enhanced clothes, her short hair streaked with silver, sunshine yellow gleaming from her eyes. And it dawned on Samuel that Clara was now his leader, the head of the Relic Guild, the true Resident of Labrys Town.
