by Alan Baxter
‘Don’t call me sir, I’m not a fucking knight.’
‘Right, sorry. Er … Basically, I would be extremely grateful for any information you could give me about the Eld, their magic, the Darak. Anything.’
The old man nodded, puffed his joint thoughtfully. His eyes were rheumy, bloodshot and almost lost in folds of skin, but they were sharp and bright. ‘So again. Why should I tell you anything?’
‘You appreciate a trade of information, right?’
Halliday laughed, a phlegmy sound. ‘I do. But what the fuck could a young cunt like you possibly have to trade with me?’
Alex’s resolve hardened. This old man was a rude and arrogant prick. Enough polite entreaty. ‘You think you’re some hot shit fucking authority?’
The old man’s eyes widened. Silhouette put a hand on Alex’s forearm, opened her mouth to speak.
Alex shook her off. He pulled up his T-shirt, exposing the three shards of the Darak. ‘You think you’re the foremost expert on this stuff? This is the fucking Darak and I’ve met one of the Eld. Think you might like to trade your fucking secrets now, you old son of a bitch?’
Halliday’s eyes widened further as he leaned forward to stare at Alex’s chest. He pointed with his half-smoked joint, mouth opening and closing soundlessly a couple of times. He leaned back again and tipped his head up to the ceiling. Claggy laughter bubbled out and his entire body shook with mirth. After several moments he pulled himself together, wheezing. He drew a huge toke and blew smoke into their faces. ‘Well, fuck me. I honestly thought I’d reached an age where nothing could surprise me. Well done, Alex Caine. Fucking well done. Tell me everything, however long it takes, and I’ll share what I know afterwards. It’ll be worth it.’
Alex nodded, pulled his shirt back down. ‘I don’t know how long we have …’
‘However long it takes. That’s the deal. After all, your story, your first-fucking-hand knowledge might have some bearing on what I think I know, yes?’
Alex was pleased to hear Halliday say that. For all his arrogance and rudeness, he showed the attitude of the true scholar, the eternal student. No matter how good a person thought they were, there was always more to learn. Alex’s experience as a martial artist had taught him that early on and it remained true. ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘It all started when a British mage approached me and asked if I could read this particular book. My arcane vision has always been better than most, you see.’
The story took several hours to tell. Alex shared everything about his battle with the book and Uthentia, how he thought he had ended Hood, his entrapment and escape from Obsidian, and all the events leading up to his current situation. Halliday interrupted often, but always with pertinent questions and requests for clarifications. The old man had a notebook and fountain pen and scribbled throughout Alex’s recounting. By the end he had smoked more weed than Alex thought anyone could safely imbibe without passing out, but the old man was as alert and focused as ever.
‘And that’s when Meera suggested we talk to you,’ Alex finished.
Halliday nodded, staring at his notes. He quietly rolled yet another joint, ruminating. Eventually he looked up, lit the joint and inhaled deeply. ‘Well, fucking hell. That is quite the story, innit.’
Alex smiled. ‘I guess so.’
‘Leaving that Fey Lady bitch out of it for now, seems to me you’ve two fundamental problems that are actually kinda the same problem.’
‘Yeah?’
‘How to destroy the indestructible.’
‘Well, destroy Hood, certainly.’
Halliday shook his head, wagged his joint at Alex. ‘Don’t be thinking you don’t need to destroy the Darak. All the time it exists, the Fey will want it.’ He wheezed laughter at Alex’s frown. ‘Of course they will! Even if you kill the bitch, others will take her place. They will always want to either reclaim their ability to pass freely between worlds or resurrect their Lord. Or both. And yes, you also need a way to destroy Hood. That sword you mentioned, the one that cut him?’
‘Yeah. I’m really keen to get hold of that.’
‘I agree. You need that like I need an ounce of fucking weed a week. In other words, badly. It might give you a chance against Hood. But you can’t discount the use of magic to trap him either. Like that Armour crew what slowed him down until his boy shot ’em all.’
Alex had shown Halliday the video from Emma’s phone while he spoke. ‘I thought about that too.’
‘My people are working on it,’ Emma said. ‘Hood is incredibly strong and hard to harm, but he doesn’t seem immune to all arcane assault. They’re working on containment spells and the like.’
Halliday sucked his black and yellow teeth. ‘Good. That’s a good approach. But his son does have some magic, and don’t forget about simple mundane firepower. You said he’s employing mercenaries. You have to account for all of that. But there’s different degrees of indestructible, ain’t there. And different ways of dealing with things. Reducibility, for example.’
‘What do you mean?’ Alex realised his hand was resting on his chest again. The old man’s words about having to destroy the Darak had seeded a deep fear in him, that he had first felt when talking to Meera the day before. He wanted to be free of the curse of everything that had happened since Welby asked him to read the Uthentia grimoire, but he was reluctant to give up the influence he had gained from binding with the power stone.
‘Well, that stone in you is a part of the Lord’s heart, right? Neither can be destroyed, but they were separated from each other. With big enough magic, things can be parted. The Eld used enormous magic to scallop out that Darak from the Lord’s heart. That was their masterstroke, really, using it against itself. They used its power to shift the heart to the Void and subsequently banish Uthentia. Massive magics at work that fucked that stone up proper, split it, but still didn’t destroy it. And even though they tried to hide the pieces, you found them, made them whole again. Used yourself to actually increase the innate power of the Darak.’
Alex took his hand away from his chest. ‘Sure, but I don’t know where you’re going with this.’
‘I think I might have some records of the magic the Eld used to split the Darak from the Lord’s heart. If I do, then perhaps understanding that might give you some insight into ways of destroying or separating that part of you. You need to be free of the Darak, son, because the Fey will always want it. You need it out of you. And it must be destroyed somehow, or the Fey will find a way to get it back. We can’t allow that. But if it’s indestructible, how do you manage that? I don’t know. Maybe this magic will help you think of a way.’
‘And you can share it with me?’
‘I didn’t think I could help much until I heard your story.’ Halliday shifted his overstuffed ashtray from a pile of books by his chair and handed Alex the top tome.
Alex took it, heavy and leather-bound. He saw and felt immediately the magesign of the thing, swirling around like smoke, creeping over his hands and up his arm. ‘This is a grimoire,’ he said softly.
Halliday just nodded, his eyes narrow.
Alex opened the book to see arcane script sweeping and curling across the page. He remembered his first ever encounter with such a tome, the gift from Welby that had given him his mastery of elemental magic. Then, in Peacock’s bookshop, Welby had led him to the Uthentia grimoire. The book that started everything, that fucked up his life. It was also the book which set him on a path to realise his true magical potential, which caused his meeting with Silhouette. It was easy to hate Welby for bothering him after the fight in Sydney that night, but Alex had to accept his own part in events. And the natural course of things beyond any of their control. His Sifu’s words drifted to him across the years. You get hit, you accept it and move on. You can’t block a strike that has already bruised you, you can’t undo an injury that has already occurred. If you pause to think about how you can change the past, you get hit again. So you accept, you fight on. Never then, never la
ter, always now. Always fighting. Until the fight is over.
His teacher’s lessons had always been about more than simply training to fight. It seemed they became more relevant to his life by the day.
He drew a deep breath and let his vision open, let his mind sink into the script, understand the words. Only arcane sight could decipher the meaning, and his was great. Slowly the significance leached up from the page. He read the first paragraphs about the meeting of the Eld and how this grimoire contained their magic. ‘I can read this,’ he said.
Halliday sat back, lips pursed. Eventually he nodded. ‘I can’t. No one I know can. But after your story, I thought maybe you could. Your vision is truly something special.’
‘So I’ve been told.’
‘And you know it to be true. Is it a book of Eld magic?’
‘Yeah, it is.’
Halliday barked a short laugh. ‘Ha! I knew it. I had no way to be sure. I tried so many times to read it. But it felt like Eld work. I always knew it would explain how they did what I always knew they had done.’ The old man’s eyes grew distant.
‘You okay?’ Alex asked.
Halliday shook himself. ‘Just remembering what I went through to get that book. It did not come cheaply or fucking easily, but some things are worth great cost, no?’
Alex closed the book, ran his fingers over the ancient smooth leather cover. Grimoires were powerful artefacts, not only containing information about magic, but vessels of transmission. Welby’s greatest gift to Alex had been the elemental grimoire. By reading it, Alex had absorbed mastery over the elements, skills which became an intrinsic part of him. Already he felt the beginnings of the Eld magic nestled into his brain from just the first page of this tome. Rare and priceless, grimoires contained the very essence of magical ability. Being able to read them, decipher them, was the real challenge. So many of the greatest were opaque, even to the greatly skilled. But Alex had yet to discover one he could not decrypt.
‘I need to read this book,’ he said. ‘And it’s big. Might take a few hours. Once I’ve read it, I’ll have the magic inside.’
Halliday nodded, taking a last draw on his current joint. He stubbed it out. ‘I know how they fucking work. But take it. It’s yours.’
‘That’s a priceless thing,’ Emma said, awe in her voice.
Halliday laughed. ‘Fucking money! Do I look like I spend money on anything? Knowledge is all that matters.’ He looked back to Alex. ‘You can have that on one condition.’
Alex smiled. ‘I promise. If I survive this, I’ll come back and tell you everything.’
Halliday nodded. ‘Now you’re getting it. Go on, fuck off. I am well overdue for a nap. You can see yourselves out.’
They stood. Alex leaned forward, reached out a hand to shake. ‘I really appreciate your help. I can’t emphasise how much.’
Halliday slapped his hand aside. ‘Go on, fuck off.’ But the old man was smiling as he spoke, the first time his face had cracked from a seemingly permanent frown since they had arrived.
Alex grinned, stood straight, narrowly avoiding a low ceiling beam. ‘I’ll do my best to come back.’
‘We promised ourselves a holiday back here anyway, remember?’ Silhouette said.
‘We did.’ Alex felt an expansion of hope in the shadows of his despair. He had no idea if it would last, but perhaps there would be something in the grimoire that might give him an edge. His optimism was tainted as they left, however, as Halliday’s words echoed in his memory. Words that filled him with dread. Don’t be thinking you don’t need to destroy the Darak. All the time it exists, the Fey will want it.
23
Alex, Silhouette and Emma returned to the camper van. Jean and Jarrod had folded up the end bed and returned the table to its place. They sat huddled over Chang’s tablet.
Jarrod looked up as they entered the cramped space. ‘Any luck, Alex?’
‘Maybe. I gotta concentrate.’ He clambered into the small bed area above the driver’s cabin and opened the grimoire.
Silhouette watched him, entranced by the tome. She fervently hoped he would get something from it, something truly tangible. Deciphering arcane text was a painstaking, exhausting process, even with his overly developed vision. Reading an entire grimoire was the mental equivalent of running a marathon. But he had no time to spare. She wished she could do something to help, but this was down to him.
Emma Parker moved behind her, stepped up to look over Jean Chang’s shoulder. Silhouette frowned. Parker was an incredibly capable operative, but something about the small woman put her teeth on edge. There was a coldness under that jolly English façade that made Silhouette uncomfortable. Parker was the kind of woman who would stamp on a puppy without a moment’s thought if she thought it was for the greater good. Silhouette could easily imagine the bitch stamping on Alex.
A wry smile twisted Silhouette’s lips. Old Iron Balls was her puppy and she would never let this Parker stomp on him. The trouble was, Alex would probably go willingly, given his current state of mind. Silhouette needed to keep him focused on fighting. She had watched him fluctuate between despair and determination so many times during the course of recent events. She had to keep pushing him towards the positive. He turned a page, brow furrowed in concentration. You can do it, Alex, she thought. Don’t you dare give up on me.
‘Anything?’ Emma Parker’s tone was friendly but tight. The woman was clearly more and more on edge as time passed.
Jean Chang shrugged, her expression annoyed. ‘Yes and no. I’ve been tracking all the things I can. Hood has been paying money into all kinds of accounts, drawn huge sums of cash, which is almost certainly for untraceable payments and bribes. He’s contracted a freelance engineering company in the London Docklands, funnelled cash to his mercenaries. But I can’t pin down exactly what he’s doing. There are significant details missing.’
‘Or hidden,’ Silhouette said.
Parker looked up sharply. ‘What’s that?’
Silhouette smiled crookedly. For all her officiousness, this Emma Parker could be bloody dense. ‘He’s onto you, Jean. Feeding you enough information to keep you busy, but not enough to crack what he’s up to.’
Jean’s eyes widened then narrowed. ‘Shit. There’s maybe a level of encryption I haven’t found.’ She turned back to the tablet, began studiously working.
‘Well done,’ Parker said. ‘But I wonder if it will help us at all.’
Silhouette smiled, as cattily as she could. ‘Any information is worth something, right?’
‘Yes, indeed. With that in mind, I’ll get on the blower to Armour in York.’ Emma pulled out her phone and stepped from the van as she dialled.
Silhouette moved to sit beside Jarrod. ‘How you doing, my big little brother?’ She squeezed one huge bicep through his light jacket.
He flexed for her quickly before embarrassment flooded his face. ‘I’m feeling pretty useless, truth be told.’
‘Yeah, me too. We’re treading water here, huh.’
‘I guess. But I’ve a feeling we’ll be busy enough soon.’
Silhouette watched Jean tap away. She nodded towards the thin woman. ‘Keep an eye on her, eh? She’s struggling, needs someone to look after her.’
Jarrod watched Chang for a moment. ‘Yeah, I’m on that. She’ll be okay.’
Silhouette scowled towards the door. ‘And keep a close fucking eye on Parker, too.’
‘She’s on our side, Sil.’
‘Is she?’
‘What do you mean?’
Silhouette shook her head, patted her brother’s shoulder. ‘I don’t know exactly. Just watch her. Closely. I don’t trust the bitch.’
‘Okay.’
Emma Parker stepped back inside. ‘Snowdonia is organised. I’ve got GPS co-ordinates. It’s well removed from civilisation, but easy enough to get to. The few people nearby are being evacuated now. We’ve got battlemage teams moving into position and working on containment magic against Hood and the Fey. We j
ust have to get everyone there. Then Armour will bring the war machine to all of those bastards.’
‘And how do we get everyone there?’ Silhouette asked.
‘Well, the Lady will home in on Alex like a moth to a flame. She’ll come barrelling to wherever he is, no doubt. We need to lure in Hood at the right time and lead them together. Hopefully our pal Jean here will get some more information on that for us.’
Jarrod made a low growling sound in his throat. ‘In a way I preferred it when Hood was gunning for us. This is too quiet.’
Silhouette agreed with him. But there was nothing they could do about it. ‘We’ll just have to wait for now. How long till the battleground is ready?’
‘Just a few more hours. Well before the Lady is due.’
‘Let’s hope Jean can track Hood before the thin then,’ Silhouette said.
Alex’s reading began to turn his brain to porridge. New magic built its way into his consciousness, arcane knowledge nestling into him like maggots into rotting flesh. The acquisition of powers was a particularly discomforting process, like swallowing nails. At the end of every line, the turn of every page, he wanted to throw the book aside. But this was how it worked. Nothing this valuable, this strong, came easily. And he had no time to spread it out and ease the process.
He marvelled at the ingenuity of the Eld. The method they had devised of corrupting the incorruptible was a masterstroke. Using eldritch energies to create slight shifts in realms, brief moments of other through the space the indestructible occupied. Things that could not be destroyed could be divided that way, though only briefly. It was utilising that brief division that posed the biggest challenge. The magics were mind-bendingly complex, but he began to understand them, even though separation of the supposedly indestructible was a hair’s breadth from impossible. Alex began to internalise it. Controlling it, that was something else. And it needed a fine wielding hand. He looked at the remaining pages, nearly half of the book still unread. Such dense, complicated sorcery.
