The Guild Chronicles Books 1-3

by J M Bannon

  Hume shook his head, "No, that was Allard. He stole the magnet and my ideas. Who knows how long that ferret has been in the hen house stealing my secrets like eggs," Hume yelled.

  Saint Yves turned to witness Henri Allard running across one gangway towards the other side of the cavern.

  * * *

  Allard had seen and heard enough. He made his way towards the pens, he had to get away, now that both the Police and the Guild knew what he had done.

  He was disgusted by what the Guild had become, the elite of the Necronist order carrying on like school boys. He needed to be careful, as Hume had a hex he could throw with no preparation. He couldn’t chance letting him do that again. From what the English Policeman had said the siphon was on a nearby airship his options if he stood around were limited and all would result in him being caught.

  Allard had already formed a plan when he heard Hume yell “No, that was Allard he stole the magnet and my ideas. Who knows how long that ferret has been in the hen house stealing my secrets like eggs,” the entire party looked at him but he was already running.

  To reach the pens he had to ascend another set of metal stairs. There were seven subjects, some were awake and aware of him others sleeping. As he walked by he opened each cage door. The screeching of the metal hinges when Allard opened the doors caused the creatures to stir and move out of the pens. Allard picked up his pace to stay ahead of the beasts as they bunched up and followed him as he circled back around the pens and down the stairs to the platform at their base to bring this gang of meat puppets towards Guild Master Hume.

  “Allard have you lost your mind?” yelled Hume.

  “No, sir I am tendering my resignation,” Allard said with a smile as he slid under the guard rail, hanging for a moment before dropping from the gangway to the cave floor below. The ten foot drop caused Allard to fall and roll but he got up making his way over to the reagents resting next to the ichor kettles. He grabbed several bottles looked at them and when he found the ones he wanted he threw them to the ground below the the staircase where the meat puppets were clumsily descending. A noxious cloud formed and swirled up around the pack as they reached the platform.

  Allard disappeared behind the cloud of smoke that was enraging the flesh abominations of the Necronists.

  25

  Friday the 29th of March

  9:20 p.m. The Necronist Laboratory under Monastère de la Prairie vallonnée

  The pack of pitiful creatures that Allard had released were now shambling down the walkway directly towards Hume and Saint Yves. Dolly watched as the French Seer chucked bottles of chemical to the floor then ran off cursing at Hume in french.

  The seven man-shaped creatures picked up speed and moved aggressively towards the two Guild Masters. The fumes somehow aggravated the mindless, featureless, gruesome flayed creatures. The pack was upon Saint Yves and Hume before Dolly could raise his rifle. The two Necronists were lost under a pile of red meat, victims of a savage attack.

  He aimed his Henry rifle and fired at one of the creatures towards the back of the pack. The shot rang out and echoing throughout the cavern. He hit his intended target; the force throwing the monster back. It took a moment, before it returned to the attack. The damage it had suffered clearly not enough to make it falter. He fired off three more shots causing more damage but not killing the beast. Not again. Thought Dolly.

  Dolly caught a glimpse of a black clad arm as it struggled to draw a dagger the style of which Dolly recognized as a Scorpionis Aculeo. He couldn’t tell who was wielding it under the pack of creatures.

  He saw the dagger plunged into one of the beasts which stiffened and collapsed on the Necronist underneath.

  Dolly dropped the rifle and drew his pistol thumbing back the hammer and aiming before squeezing the trigger. The seasoned Detective watched as one of Rose's magic bullets found a new home.

  “Good God!” Dolly exclaimed when he saw the light show. It was a common lead slug containing a crystal, holding a concoction of alchemical gases that Rose had mixed up. He had fired one before, but at a paper target, not at something that would interact with the eldritch elements in its moist center. Rather than ripping through the meat man on impact, a spectacular blue ball of light appeared and tore through the flesh before exiting the other side of the creature. Dolly could swear that he saw an apparition ripped out of the monster and dissipate just beyond it. The creature was thrown by the blast, away from the pack to fall dead on the walkway. The joy of success vanished when he realized that now the pack was moving towards him and Rose.

  The confines of the raised metal walkways funneled the beasts towards Dolly in a cramped herd. He took aim at the leading creature only twenty feet away and fired his pistol. The result was the same, through the smoke escaping from the muzzle he saw the blue flash within the wound and the beast went down. The crumpled form became an obstacle to the others who were held back for a time before continuing their advance clumsily stepping on and over the slumped corpse. He let the next shot fly and watched the foremost beast's chest turn into a ball of blue fire. Another one dead.

  He kept pulling the trigger, but the last three chambers were just regular thirty-six caliber bullets. They slowed and damaged the last three members of the pack but did not stop them. He looked back searching for a path of escape and saw Rose with the Rod of Raziel drawn, eyes closed. He couldn’t and wouldn’t abandon her! He faced the pack braced for the onslaught as they shuffled closer. As they closed on him, Rose shouldered past him with the Rod in her right hand.

  She stopped in front of him and with a grunt of effort she pushed her left hand out in front of her. A golden glow coalesced in front of her hand and expanded into a round shield of pulsing light that grew to fill the walkway from rail to rail.

  Dolly watched dumbstruck; he had never witnessed Rose cast a spell before.

  He could see the shield slowly rotate as it moved forward, translucent golden energy with sigils floating within the form. The shield hit the last three creatures, pushing them back, they fell as they were pushed into the bodies of their fallen companions and the shield pushed all of them along the walkway. He watched as the shield rolled over the whole mass toward Saint Yves who was up on his feet doing something with his dagger. The Guild Master looked up to see the shield coming towards him and weaved out of its way.

  "We have to get out of here," said Rose, "That's all I've got."

  "This is my last ampule," yelled Saint Yves as he stabbed the beast closest to him. He was badly beaten with cuts on his arms and a swollen face. Saint Yves eyed the lifeless body of Hume on the walkway, beaten and bloody. He called out, "He's dead."

  "I'm out of shots," shouted Dolly as the two remaining meat puppets got back up and came shambling towards Rose and Dolly.

  26

  Friday the 29th of March

  9:30 p.m. The Necronist Laboratory under Monastère de la Prairie vallonnée

  Rose and Dolly backed towards the stairs in front of the door as the last two creatures lumbered towards them. Rose was spent from the Enochian summoning, her legs felt like lead, the muscles like noodles barely keeping on her feet. The top of the stairs was just a few steps away when she heard the door slam shut behind them. She turned to see inky tendrils of black ichor retreating beneath them. Rose was overcome with foreboding, her skin prickled sensing a change in the atmosphere. She turned back, and the view caused her to grasp Dolly's arm.

  'Shit, lassie you'll break the skin," scolded her boss as he turned and followed her gaze and said, "For fuck's sake, I thought I'd seen it all."

  Suspended in the air were the two meat men coiled in black tendrils, like the arms of a giant octopus. The source was the dozens of animation tanks that dotted the laboratory. Seer Saint Yves was also drifting fifteen feet above their heads held by the same black fluid strands.

  Up the stairs on the far end of the walkway strode a young woman. In her late teenage years with long platinum hair, she wore an exquisite white, form-fit
ted dress, modest yet alluring as it were moulded to her body. As she walked closer, she first reached the body of Guild Master Hume and gave it a cursory glance, then walked to where Saint Yves was suspended and struggling. With his every movement, the seething mass compensated. When he began to incant, the black substance flowed over his mouth and nose and gagged him.

  "Save your strength and spells, Gerrard." she coached the Seer.

  As she walked towards Rose and Dolly, the ichor holding Saint Yves moved, keeping him near her. She stopped when she reached the two creatures suspended in the air above the walkway. The girl was now was close enough that Rose could see the lace on the woman's bodice move. It was moving slowly changing pattern, forming and reforming. Rose slowly reached up and moved her scrying goggles over her eyes.

  "Should I feed you to the abominations that you and your Brothers created?" mused the girl to the Guild Master.

  Rose adjusted the lenses, not because the woman's aura was faint, quite the opposite. The goggles reconciled what she saw in the aether versus the material form. "Angelica?"

  "It's good to see you again Sister Rose, and you as well, Detective." the Sorceress purred.

  “Is it her?” Dolly demanded of Rose, “is it the Voodoo Queen? The one I saw Thomas knife in the back?”

  “Yes Dolly,” replied Rose, “that body does indeed house the spirit of Angelica Du Moya.”

  Dolly laughed, “you know, suddenly I don’t feel nearly as fucked as you Saint Yves!” He finished holstering his pistol.

  The two remaining creatures were guided into rejuvenation chambers and the lids shut. The black tentacles deftly pulling the locking levers on the tops, then receding back into the nearest reanimation chambers.

  "See how times have changed Detective? Now I am saving your life," Angelica gloated, eyes on Saint Yves.

  Rose watched the ichor as it moved. With her scrying goggles, she could observe the eldritch energy weaving through the fluid, the energy flow that emanated from Angelica's aura. Rose still held the Rod but relaxed her grip. Get out of this fight or flee mentality girl and get a grip on what is going on here!

  The Voodoo Priestess brought the Necronist down to her eye level, he was completely cocooned in the ichor. "What should I do with you?" Without turning her gaze, Angelica followed up by saying, "Careful Sister, you and I do not need to be enemies."

  Rose took the risk and engaged the Rod, not as a weapon but as a tool of understanding.

  She let herself go into the Rod. As she did, her vision slid into the astral spectrum. Rose could see Angelica's fury, it arose not from hatred or pain from her banishment but from loss and uncertainty. She could see that the enchantress was unsure of her control of her new body and restored powers.

  "Angelica, I swear I meant you no harm. I wanted to protect you from the authorities, and to get a fresh start for you and me," Saint Yves pleaded. Rose could sense that he was genuine, she could feel his desire and affection for Angelica. The visions were becoming more complex now she was forming up traces of the past, glimpses of Saint Yves and Angelica's history together in Haiti and its results. Now she knew what Angelica desired and it was not the Gerrard before her.

  "I know Gerrard, we both had our own paths to follow and from time to time they cross in interesting ways. It's appropriate that you were here for my rebirth."

  "Because he wasn't there for the birth of your child. You're not going to kill the father of your son, are you?" Rose interceded, her duty to help.

  "You said it yourself Angelica, you have been reborn and obviously with additional power. Few receive second chances like this, don't waste it going down the path of vengeance again," chided Rose.

  "We have a child?" asked Saint Yves in confusion.

  "Yes, a son. I named him after you," responded Angelica, "and I was not killing for vengeance, I was resetting the scales so that my son would receive his birthright as the grandson of Ernesto Moya. Those two half-brothers of mine, those two shits did worse than just cheat me of my legacy, they sold me, sent me away as a slave." said Angelica with vehemence, her voice rising in its anger.

  "Someone recently told me we are all in each other's lives for a reason or a season.“ said Rose gently. “I know why I am here Angelica, this is the Rod of Raziel, the Archangel, the protector of Adam and all of his descendants. With it I can see that I am here for you, to help you get control," finished Rose. The words resonated with Angelica, Rose could see the spectral aura change intensity and color moving from a fiery red towards a golden hue.

  The Voodoo Queen replied, "I can see into your soul and know you have not yet used what you learned at our last encounter.”

  "I have been tempted to do so to help another, but have resisted. Come home with me and I will help you to get control and achieve what you want, without having to draw your power from the darkness of your pain and anger,” replied Rose.

  "Angelica, please let me help you with your newfound power. We need to make sure you will live and thrive. I know that Hume had little success keeping his animations alive longer than a few weeks. I will make sure every resource of the Guild is available for you," said Saint Yves.

  "I am sure this is all very important, but as the only normal person here and I might add, the only sane one; about that Allard fella, I would like to have a word with him before he gets away with trying to kill us all with those things," Dolly pointed to the pile of meat puppets.

  The black ichor eased away from the exit as Angelica set Saint Yves down on the walkway. The bulk of the ichor returned to the tanks while the remainder skittered across the floor back to Angelica where it became absorbed into her skirts.

  “Detective go get your man.”

  27

  Friday the 29th of March

  9:50 p.m. The Necronist Monastery

  Henri hurriedly collected his personal effects from his room, including the clock Caiaphas had given him.

  I wish I had a gun.

  Henri lacked the ability to tap deeply into the aether and therefore was never a candidate for Saint Yves' Wyrding of Adepts. He possessed an intellectual comprehension of metaphysics and that had taken him down the path of the White Wyrding. He would have to figure something out, he couldn't think of any place to get his hands on a weapon. Henri didn't know how he would get himself up to the airship or where it was but knew he must get outside and somehow sneak on to the airship if he was to retrieve the soul magnet.

  Throwing the last of his things, along with Hume’s notebook into his bag he stepped out into the halls of the dormitory. Other Necronists in nightshirts or half dressed milled about in the halls. "Seer Allard what is going on, I heard Guild Master Saint-Yves is here, and there was a commotion in the research cavern," said a young Necronist.

  "It would be best for you all to go back to your cells,” Allard scolded, Pushing his way past the growing group. He made his way down the stairwell at the end of the corridor near the second-floor study; once on the ground floor he unlocked a side exit and slipped out.

  He came around the side of the building and spotted a small boat hovering just above the ground. "Ah, they have a landing craft," he said to himself. Looking up, he saw the shape of the mother-ship outlined against the moonlight and clouds, the airship was formidable. As he walked towards the smaller craft, he could make out one person aboard. He walked closer thinking how he might subdue him; but then he would face operating the craft. No, he needed the man, assuming he was the pilot. A Necronist with Adept training would be able to influence another's actions and harness their soul's intent. Sadly he lacked this training.

  The pilot’s attention was drawn to the Monastery and the group exiting the front doors. Henri turned and saw it was Saint Yves and the others. He heard yelling in English then several of them ran toward him. "Merde!" he said realizing it was the Detective and the woman with the short hair. He was torn between the instinct to run and a desire to return to the building. Instinct won out and he set off at a run.

  As
he ran, he could see the orchard that separated the Monastery from the Chateau. Henri had a good start on his pursuers, he ran into the orchard dodging between the trees. His chest began to heave and he stopped running looking round, his breath coming in gasps. He wouldn't be caught, he still had options. Quickly he rummaged through his bag and took out the clock that would open the portal. He set the tiny levers on the front to activate the clockworks then twisted the hands on the activator face to match the current time. The mechanism started working and a portal began to appear.

  Henri's head swiveled back and forth between watching the portal and the group closing in on him. He had never paid attention before, how long it took for the portal to form. The steady tick-tock of the clock made time seem to go slower.

  The portal was ready. He grabbed his bag and leapt through into the Nexus. Looking back through the portal, he saw the detective and the woman with the short hair closing in and he worried they would follow him through. Henri had only one move, in desperation he took his bag and threw it at the clock. It must have hit as the gate shuddered and disappeared. He was left staring at the water pouring from top to bottom in the copper doorway.

  He sat down then laid back trying to catch his breath and think about his next move. He needed Hume's device on the ship more than ever since the notes he had stolen were in the bag he had thrown at the clock.

  What if I told Caiaphas the truth that I don't know how to replicate Hume's work? He considered lying on the floor of the Nexus trying to catch his breath.

  * * *