A Wizard of the White Council

by Jonathan Moeller

  They walked into the dining room. Plates and silverware had been laid out on the table. Simon appeared from the kitchen, holding a steaming pot roast. He set it on the table and smiled at her.

  “Hey, Dad.” Ally hugged him.

  “Hi. You say happy birthday to your brother yet?”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  He smiled. “Good. So…um…I suppose we better start. Let’s sit.”

  They sat. A muscle worked in Simon’s jaw. He looked more anxious than Ally could ever remember seeing him.

  “What is it?” said Ally. “Is…is the past really that bad?”

  “Ally.” Simon licked his lips. “It’s…I don’t want to lie to you. It’s…probably worse than you think it is. Much, much worse. Do you remember what we told you about Senator Wycliffe, how we used to work for him, and how we…found out something he wanted kept secret?” Ally nodded. “That was the truth, but…not the entire story. The whole story is much worse. We wanted to protect you, your mom and I, but I don’t think we can anymore.”

  “Dad,” said Ally. Arran’s tale, with all of its horrors, echoed through her mind. “You’re really scaring me.”

  “I’ve never been more serious,” said Simon. He glanced at Mary.

  “Mary can stay,” said Ally.

  Katrina shook her head. “She may not want to. What we’re going to tell you could put her life in danger.”

  “I don’t care,” said Mary. “Ally saved my life and I’m going to stick with her. I don’t care what you did…if you shot the president or helped the terrorists or something like that. I’m going to stick with Ally.”

  Ally tried to smile. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

  Simon shrugged. “It’s your choice, Mary. Okay, Ally. I think we should have told you this right away. But Lithon was too young, and you’d forgotten. We thought it might be for the best, if you’d forgotten. But maybe we were wrong.” He shook his head. “It’s too late to second-guess. So I’m going to have to tell you everything now.” He looked both Ally and Lithon in the eye. “I’m going to tell you how you were adopted.”

  ###

  Black chaos stormed through his mind, an endless chorus of screaming voices. They had grown louder as the years had passed. They begged and whimpered and pleaded and cajoled. But they demanded, most of all, they commanded and ordered and shrieked at him, over and over, forever denying him rest and peace…

  “Lord?”

  Marugon’s eyelids fluttered. He tried to focus through the cacophony in his head.

  “Lord?”

  Marugon rammed aside the voices with a will of iron. “Yes?”

  Goth-Mar-Dan sat besides him in the driver’s seat, handling the van with deft skill. The ridges on his armor had made a mess of the upholstery. “I have word from the scouts.”

  “And?” said Marugon.

  “They have seen Ally Wester enter the house, in the company of another woman they do not recognize.” Goth-Mar-Dan ran a stoplight, ignoring the protesting horns.

  “Good.” The black magic thrummed in Marugon’s will, just beneath his conscious thought. “And what of her room at the university?”

  Goth-Mar-Dan growled. “They have not yet reached their destination.”

  “Have them search her room anyway,” said Marugon. “If any of her associates are about, kill them.”

  Goth-Mar-Dan conveyed the orders.

  “Order the other vans ahead,” continued Marugon. “We shall follow at a distance.” He had not crossed the darkness between the worlds and overthrown his enemies to put himself at needless risk now. “Instruct them to storm the house as soon as they arrive.”

  “Shall we spare any for questioning?”

  “No.” Marugon’s lips pulled back in a snarl. “They have eluded me for too long. I shall not allow them to become threats. Kill anyone found at the house.”

  Goth laughed.

  The voices in Marugon’s head howled with approval.

  Chapter 14 - Revelations

  Anno Domini 2012

  Arran stepped into the alleyway. The young man leaned against the wall, hands in his jacket pockets. Arran spotted the second man hidden behind a green trash bin almost at once. He caught a brief glimpse of a weapon in the second man’s hands.

  Arran started towards the young man.

  “Cold night, isn’t it?” said the young man, trying to look casual.

  “Indeed,” said Arran, stopping a dozen paces away. “But I’ve known colder.”

  “So, ah,” said the young man, rubbing his gloved hands together. “You want to talk?”

  Arran shrugged. “You tell me.”

  This confused the young man. “But you were following me.”

  Arran shrugged again, keeping the trash bin in the corner of his eye. “Was I?”

  “But…um…” The young man scowled. “Okay, let’s just cut to the chase. What the hell do you want?”

  “You were following a young woman,” said Arran, his fingers tightening around the cold metal of his gun’s grip. “I’d like to know why.”

  “What business is it of yours?” said the man, a flush growing in his cheeks.

  “She doesn’t seem to appreciate your presence," said Arran.

  “She doesn’t understand us,” said the young man. “We’ve been watching you follow her, buddy. We’re trying to protect her from people like you!” His hand shot inside his coat, reaching for a holstered gun.

  But Arran saw it coming. He sprang forward, keeping the young man between him and the trash bin. The young man yanked a gun free, but Arran seized his wrist and twisted. The gun clattered to the pavement, and Arran jammed his Glock against the young man’s temple.

  “You may not want to move,” said Arran.

  “Holy shit,” said the young man. “You’re fast.”

  “Let him go.”

  The second man appeared from behind the trash bin. He had a wild brown-gray hair and a tangled beard. His right hand held a pistol of unfamiliar design rock-steady, while he carried a steel-handled cane in his left hand.

  “Who are you?” said Arran.

  “I might ask the same of you,” said the bearded man. “Let him go.” He hefted the cane.

  “Not until you answer some questions,” said Arran.

  The bearded man responded by shouting and pointing his cane at Arran.

  An unseen force seized Arran and knocked the gun from his hand. The young man twisted free and swung his fist, while the bearded man took aim with his pistol. Arran dodged and punched, his fist sinking into the younger man’s gut. The man gasped with pain, and Arran seized his shoulders and shoved him at the bearded man. They collided in a confused tangle. The bearded man kicked his way free, but that gave Arran all the time he needed to draw his second pistol. The bearded man swung his cane, and the steel handle struck the barrel and wrenched the gun from Arran’s grasp.

  He leapt back and drew his Sacred Blade.

  The bearded man spun, his eyes narrowing, and lifted his cane.

  A burst of white light flared from the handle.

  Arran froze in mid-step, staring at the handle. “That’s the white magic.”

  The bearded man blinked, his eyes fixed on Arran’s sword. “That’s the Sacred Blade of a Knight.”

  They stared at each other for a moment.

  “Who the hell are you?” said the bearded man.

  The young man writhed on the ground. “God! Somebody want to help me up?”

  “Get up, Allard,” said the bearded man. “Who are you?”

  Arran lowered his sword, keeping his eyes on the two men. “I am Arran Belphon, of Carlisan.”

  “Arran Belphon?” said the bearded man. Allard groaned and climbed to his feet. “I saw you, when you were just a boy.”

  “What?” said Arran. “How?”

  “It must have been over twenty-five years ago,” said the bearded man. “I was…ah, traveling through the Border Woods. I saw your father, Lord Carolus, and you were riding beh
ind him on a gray pony. There was a boar in a wagon behind you. You must have been hunting.”

  “Gods.” The tip of Arran’s sword dropped to the ground. “That is right. How do you know this? You are not of Earth, are you?”

  “No.” The bearded man rapped his cane against the ground. “I am Conmager. I was the apprentice of Master Alastarius.”

  “What?” said Arran.

  “I used to be a highwayman,” said Conmager. He bent over, picked up Arran’s guns, and handed them back to him. “One day I made the mistake of trying to rob an old man in a battered green cloak.”

  “Alastarius,” said Arran, dropping the weapons back into their holsters.

  Conmager nodded. “Rather than hand me over to the hangman, he made me his apprentice. He told me of his Prophecy,” Arran scowled, “and I saw him die at Castle Bastion. So I carried out his instructions.”

  “And they were?” said Arran, sliding his sword back into its scabbard.

  “I was to disguise myself as a soldier of Marugon and travel through the Tower to Earth,” said Conmager. “And there I was to wait. One day Prince Lithon would come through the door to the Tower, in the company of two Knights. It was to be my task to guard them and keep them hidden from Marugon and his associates on Earth.”

  The hair on Arran’s neck stood up. “The two men. Myself and Sir Liam.” How many people had known of Alastarius’s Prophecy?

  Conmager nodded. “Instead a young girl came through the door, carrying Lithon in her arms.”

  “Ally Wester,” said Arran. The facts clicked together in his head with resounding force. “It was her. I knew it.”

  “I assumed you and Sir Liam had perished,” said Conmager.

  “No,” said Arran. “Sir Liam perished in the Tower. I saw his tomb, in the Chamber of the Dead. We were ambushed, just before the Crimson Plain, by Rembiar and a band of gunmen.”

  Conmager’s eyes blazed. “Rembiar. That filthy murdering traitor. It is my fondest wish that I should one day separate his traitorous head from his shoulders.”

  “You won’t have to,” said Arran. “He’s been dead for ten years. Sir Liam killed him. We would have died in Rembiar’s ambush. But I took up a gun and killed the soldiers. Sir Liam could not accept that. We parted ways. He went through the Tower. I stayed behind to fight Marugon’s soldiers.”

  Conmager gestured with his cane. “So what happened? Why are you here?”

  Arran sighed. “There was nothing left to fight for. The High Kingdoms have been destroyed. I was been wounded, unto death, and would have perished but for a woman named Siduri.”

  Conmager went rigid. “Siduri?”

  “You have heard of her?”

  Conmager’s fingers drummed on the handle of his cane. “I know her. Knew her, rather. The woman from the Desert of Scorpions. When I was Master Alastarius’s apprentice. He brought her to Carlisan for a time, taught her some of the white magic, and then sent her back to the Desert. I never knew what became of her. I did not even know she still lived.”

  Arran’s lips twisted. “She doesn’t. Khan-Mar-Dan killed her. I slew him, but I couldn’t save her. But before she died, she told me to find Alastarius on Earth. So that is why I am here.”

  Conmager looked baffled. “Find Alastarius on Earth? Why would she say such a thing? Alastarius is dead. I saw him die, with my own eyes. Rembiar stabbed him in the back, and then Goth-Mar-Dan tore his heart out.”

  “I know,” said Arran. “Sir Liam saw it as well. But I had nothing else to do. Nothing else to live for, if I am to be honest. So I came to Earth. I met Ally a few weeks later. She recognized my Sacred Blade and the name of Lithon. I thought she might have come from my world. So I told her my story, why I had come to Earth, everything that had happened since Marugon’s return. She recognized the names and the places, even if she did not remember.”

  Conmager blew out a long breath. “Gods. I’d been watching you for the last few days. I’d wondered who you were. I’d thought you an agent of Marugon.”

  Arran grunted. “I thought much the same of you, once Ally told me of you.” A suspicion grew in his mind. “If it is indeed your task to guard her and Lithon, why does she not recognize you?”

  “Because she doesn’t remember me,” said Conmager. “And if she did, she would think me dead. I faked,” he grimaced, “well, tried to fake, my death soon after she and Lithon arrived on Earth. It was our intent to keep Lithon secret until he could return to our world and overthrow Marugon. But Marugon had sent a seeking spirit after…”

  “Gods!” Memory flashed through Arran. “The black lion in the Mountains of Rindl. Sir Liam and I fought it, but…”

  “You could not kill it,” said Conmager, his voice grim. “It followed Lithon through the Tower, and once it reached Earth, Marugon knew about Lithon. It was a close thing. We almost all perished. But I managed to fake my death well enough to convince Marugon that Lithon and all with him had perished. So they were safe.”

  “And since then,” said Arran, “you’ve watched over them from a distance, keeping them safe.”

  “Yes,” said Conmager. “I do not know the future. But I think Lithon will one day return to Carlisan, take his rightful throne and crown, and defeat Marugon. Until that day…which may come sooner than I hope…I shall guard Lithon and Ally with all my strength.” He smiled. “We could use the aid of a Knight of the Sacred Blade.”

  “I’ll say,” said Allard. He rubbed his stomach. “Jesus, man, you hit like a brick.”

  “You shall have my aid,” said Arran.

  “Good,” said Conmager. “Marugon is searching for Ally.”

  “Why?” said Arran.

  “Because there is something strange about her.” Conmager’s eyes flashed. “You must have sensed it, have you not?”

  “Yes,” said Arran. “My Sacred Blade. She lifted it with ease. No one but a Knight or a Wizard should be able to do that.”

  “I think she has the white magic,” said Conmager, “or at least the potential to become a mighty Wizard. Marugon sensed this, and so he is hunting her, lest she becomes a threat to him. So we shall have to hide her and Lithon someplace safe.” He hesitated. “Ally is at her adoptive parents’ house tonight.”

  “She told me of it,” said Arran.

  “Her parents will tell her and Lithon everything,” said Conmager. “And then we will have to flee. I have safe houses prepared. We can hide for a time, until Lithon is older, and we can return to our world. Or we may have to return to Carlisan at once.”

  Arran thought of the horrors he had seen in the Tower. “That may be difficult.”

  “In a few hours we shall go to the Westers’ house,” said Conmager, “after Simon and Katrina have told the children the truth. Then we will to decide what to do. I would like you come.” Arran nodded. “But before that, I have some things I need to show you.”

  “Yeah,” said Allard. “Old Regent here’s got some serious firepower.”

  “Just who are you, anyway?” said Arran.

  Allard stuck out his hand. “Kyle Allard. Um…no hard feelings over the punch, right?”

  Arran shook his hand. “I assume you are from Earth?” Allard grinned and nodded. “How did you get involved in this?”

  “Oh, that’s simple,” said Conmager. “He’s an idiot. This way.”

  Allard grunted. “Well…um…yeah, he’s right. Let’s go.”

  Arran shook his head and followed them.

  ###

  “So Conmager showed up again, a few months later,” said Simon, watching them both. “He showed me the door to the Tower. Then he said one day you two would come through the door, accompanied by two men.”

  “No, that’s not right,” said Katrina.

  Simon shook his head. “You’re right. He…said Lithon would appear, accompanied by two men. He didn’t say anything about you, Ally.”

  “Oh,” said Ally. Her voice sounded quite calm to her ears. She found this remarkable.

  Beca
use she felt anything but calm.

  “Then Conmager disappeared again,” said Simon. “I tried to put what he had said out of my mind. I hadn’t told any of this to Katrina yet. But I couldn’t forget. I kept thinking about those winged monsters….”

  “The Ugaoun,” whispered Ally.

  “What did you say?” said Katrina.

  “The Ugaoun,” said Ally, blinking. “Some people call the winged demons the Ugaoun.”

  “How did you know that?” said Simon.

  Ally shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “What happened next?” said Lithon.

  Simon stared at the cooling pot roast. “I finished my dissertation and I had nothing to do. So your mom came over one afternoon, and we…well, never mind. She was with me when the door in the woods opened. We heard clanging noises and went out to see what it was. I suspected it might be the door. Katrina had no idea.”

  Katrina rolled her eyes. “Because you hadn’t told me anything yet.”

  “Well, yes. But you found out anyway. We went out back and saw the door open.” Simon shuddered. “I’ll never forget it. It…appeared out of nowhere, a slab of black marble, and it swung open. And inside I could see this huge gallery, with…”

  Ally trembled. “With pillars and…and an arched ceiling…”

  Mary watched her. “You look like you’re going to faint.”

  Ally ignored her. “And…this awful green glow that lit everything…” The images from the dreams swirled through her mind.

  “You remember,” said Simon, his voice quiet. Ally said nothing. “And we saw an old man through the door. He had two swords that burned with blue-white fire. He was fighting these…these things, these creatures made of shadow. They reminded me of the winged demons, but worse, somehow, if such a thing is possible. Then the door slammed shut with a flash. And then you were there when I looked up. You must have run through the door before it closed. You had Lithon in your arms. He couldn’t have been more than three or four years old.”

  “I remember.” Ally felt herself start to cry. “I woke up on this horrible gray plain. I don’t…I can’t remember anything before that. And there were men, bad men with guns, and they would have killed me, but Sir Liam killed them. He had Lithon with him. I followed him through the Tower. One of the shadow-things pretended to be the Queen, tried to deceive him, but I knew, I warned him. Then we ran. They would have caught us, but Sir Liam fought them, he told us to run…” Ally’s shoulders shook. “Oh, God.” A sob choked through her throat. “Oh, God. He saved us, he killed himself to save us, and I forgot him, I forgot.” Her face fell into her hands.