Nate, stood next to her looking over the landscape, he seemed slightly better dressed for the warmth, in his khaki combat trousers and white vest. A tall man and powerfully built, she supposed he might be handsome in a traditionally boring way. Chiselled jaw, strong cheek bones, short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, he had a young Brad Pitt aura to him, intelligent and brooding.
Tattoos wrapped around his body, muted colours in various blasphemous shapes covered nearly every inch of his torso, only stopping at his wrists and neck line. The tattoo’s depicted various traditionally unholy or horrific images, from the usual inverted holy symbols, like an upside down cross or pentacle through to pictures of demons, dragons, gorgons and other hellish creatures raping and torturing a variety of women, men and holy figures from scripture such as Jesus and Mohammad.
The sunlight caught his body as Kez looked at him, framing him in a nimbus of golden light. He held the privileged position of Yasmin’s current favourite apprentice, and had done so for several years now.
Kez looked back out at the camp and allowed her mind to open up, letting the flow of magical energy become visible to her. The currents were stronger where life had recently been, and also much stronger around one tent in particular. Kez surmised that it must have been Amy’s tent. Meanwhile, just beyond the tents, the Dead Magic Zone sat over the plateau, visible as a dome shaped area devoid of Magical energy, just as Kez expected.
Amy should have reported back once every so often to update Yasmin, but she was days overdue now and a cursory Magical scrying showed that the camp seemed to be deserted, so Yasmin had sent Kez and Nate to have a look around.
‘Go and check out the tomb.’ Kez said flatly to Nate, ‘I’ll be in the camp.’ She walked forward and moved towards the tents, while Nate moved off in the direction of the tomb.
As she moved down the dune, the sand cascaded along the slope before her with each step, the wind pulled at her black hair and ragged hood. She passed between the now rather sad looking shelters and camp equipment, sizing the area up, looking for any life at all. The silence made the whole thing into something like a ghost town, an abandoned settlement left suddenly and unexplainably several days ago.
She pulled back the flap of the occasional tent, to look inside at the abandoned personal effects. Clothes, shaving equipment, cuddly toys, all just left to the desert.
Outside Amy’s tent she paused a moment on the threshold to see Nate disappear over the nearby ridge heading to the tomb before she moved inside.
The large tent held a bed, suitcase, table and chair, nothing too out of the ordinary really. On the large table, Amy had set out the finds of the dig, all laid out neatly and virtually untouched apart from a dusting of several days sand over everything. It looked almost as it should have done, apart from the glaring omission from the display. One piece was missing, the biggest of the lot, it had been set in the middle of the table and taken up the largest area with everything else arrayed around it. There were a few photos of it next to where it should have been, and some notes as well. Kez picked up one of the photos and let the sand fall from its surface.
There in the square piece of paper she looked at the photo of the huge stone slab, about a foot in length on the longest side according to the measure placed next to it in the picture. Under the image, on the white strip of the Polaroid, Amy had written ‘The Artefact?’
As far as Kez knew, she’d been the only person that Yasmin had told about the Artefact she suspected lay in the Tomb here and it’s Magical potential. Presumed lost centuries ago, to those in the know, this Artefact could change everything. But had it been found here?
Looking at the notes, Kez began skimming through them. Amy had copied some of the carvings and made careful rubbings of others and noted down some observations from her studies of the artefact. She seemed to come to the conclusion that the slab had a Magi origin, and maybe even of specifically Nomad roots. She also noted down some doubts about the slab as it didn’t really seem to radiate any Magic, and there had been one final room to be opened in the tomb. Amy had written about some of her doubts about opening up that chamber, and that had been the last thing she had written. Were those doubts proven to be accurate? Kez would find out from Nate soon enough.
She placed a couple of the pictures and the pertinent notes inside her cloak to give to Yasmin later. With one more look around the tent she felt sure there would be little else of interest here, so she stepped outside into the glow of the orange sunset and squinted in the light. She could see Nate’s silhouette moving towards the camp, and as he saw Kez emerge from the tent, headed directly towards her, changing direction slightly.
Moving forward awkwardly on the soft sand, Kez stepped closer to Nate who stopped a short distance from her and gazed over the camp.
‘Anything?’ he asked.
‘Something,’ she replied flatly. ‘And you?’
‘The final room is a slaughter house. Something was entombed there and they woke it up somehow. Whatever it was, it killed them all.’
Kez looked at Nate’s dispassionate face, he was utterly unaffected by what he had seen in there. Kez needed to see it too.
‘Show me,’ she said.
The rooms of the tomb were left as they had been since the day the final chamber had been entered. Tools littered the floor here and there next to long dead lamps and lights ready to be taken up and used again. Cables snaked through the rooms to generators outside that had been smashed by something big. They hooked up to lights and air filters in the rooms that made the place more suitable to working, but which now stood silent in the blackness. The occasional table stood in a few of the rooms with the teams finds upon them, brushes and other tools laid next to these finds. Kez scanned over each table looking for the artefact, but to no avail.
In one of the deeper rooms Kez stopped at a table, upon it there were photos of the stone slab. The shots showed where the slab had been found in a hidden hole in the wall, and also showed how it had been removed. Kez looked up at the hole on the wall, open and empty now, and clearly it had been the site of further searching. Kez tensed her lips in frustration, it seemed like the slab had disappeared. Looking round she saw Nate waiting at the entrance to what must have been the final chamber, judging from the powerful stench coming from it.
Standing at the door Kez looked at the carnage within and wrinkled her nose. Something had clearly had a field day in here tearing these people to bits. Some were left where they had fallen, sporting rotting wounds, grey green putrid flesh and drained white skin. Some of them seemed to have been partly eaten, the signs of bite marks visible on the bits that were left.
Kez walked inside and on looking into the rubble of the ruined sarcophagus, saw the remains of Amy herself. She had been split open, ripped from her groin halfway up her body along the front of her torso to where her ribcage began, as if something had been inserted into her, something too big for her body to hold. Her pelvis had been shattered and her womb ripped open, while her rotting ropey insides lay about her. Her guts seemed to writhe and move in the shadows, so Kez peered in for a closer look, curious as to why. Nate managed to get one of the lamps lit at that second, and lifted it for Kez to get a better view, the light spilling over the corpse. Amy’s entrails were crawling with flies and maggots; the burrowing and frantic movement of the tiny translucent grubs made the intestines move and pulsate. Kez pulled her face away from the grisly sight.
Kez looked at Amy for a long moment, looking into those features that were contorted in agony and pain. Kez knew she had probably been alive when she had been ripped open, dying a long slow death compared to some of the others in this room. Amy had been expendable though, which had been the reason she had been given this mission, she would not be missed.
Nate called to Kez, breaking her stream of thought from across the room.
‘I think this might be interesting to Yasmin.’ He said, pointing at the wall and the short sentence written there in blood.
; She will pay.
Interesting indeed thought Kez, no doubt written by whatever had been in here, but who was ‘she’? A mystery for the moment at least.
‘Looks like the Artefact Yasmin wanted had been here, I’m guessing it to be the slab of sand stone in the photo’s I found. But it’s gone, so I think we’re done here.’
‘We could look back in time, outside at the tent, see if it was stolen. The Dead Magic Zone doesn’t reach that far,’ Nate said.
‘But the temporal disturbance does, no Time Magic should be done here, it’s too dangerous.’
‘Weavers,’ Nate muttered.
Kez nodded, there was nothing further they could do.
Back out in the cooling evening air, the sun had dipped below the horizon turning the sky into a deep blue purple with a few pinkish clouds towards the horizon. The night was fast approaching and slowly leeched the warmth from the world.
They took one final look around and disappeared from the desert. Only the stillness of the evening remained.
Some time passed before someone else appeared later that night. No one remained to monitor the passing of the hours, amongst the remains of the doomed expedition.
When the air finally did pop once more to admit another Magi into the desert, the sun had finally disappeared altogether leaving no trace on the night sky. The heavens were clear and the stars glittered brightly in their black velvet shroud over the land.
The woman had appeared upon some rocks looking down at the remains of the camp and the plateau. Slender and perfectly formed, around average height, with long flaxen blonde hair that framed her fine features, she wasn’t dressed for the desert. Her stiletto heels, mini skirt and blouse more suited to the plush offices and urban streets of Paris or Milan that were her usual haunts.
Looking over to the dig site she saw the smashed generators, cabling and other dig equipment that surrounded the entrance to the tomb in the middle of the rocky plateau. She would have to walk through the sand to get there as this seemed to be the closest her magic would get her. She gave a frustrated grunt and applied her magic to making her clothing a little more appropriate to her environment. She hoped this would be worth it.
“The blood lust of the Demon Horlack was like nothing I had ever seen before during my time as the scribe of my Master.
I have seen many strange things in his employ, but what I saw that day chilled me to my very bones. This Horlack was like something from the Pit, nothing could stand against it, it killed everyone in its path. Death has come to Constantinople.
May god have mercy on our souls.”
Notes on the Warlord Horlack and the Siege of Constantinople
By Kalmár the Elder, Scribe and Poet
10th April 1204
Epiphany
New York
Late May, 10 hours ago.
It was late May, nearly two months since Georgina had left for Ireland and the day began much like every day had since then. The day held no warning, no hint about how it would end. But end it would, and so would Amanda’s life, as she had known it.
Amanda woke up late, but then she always woke up late. She didn’t set her alarm clock, she hadn’t set it for weeks now, there being little to set it for. She grumbled at the thought of getting up, turned onto her side and drifted back into the sweet embrace of sleep once more.
She woke up a couple more times before she finally conceded defeat and sat up in bed. Light came into the apartment through the thin curtains, it would be fairly close to mid-day now, but Amanda had little to do. She would probably have a wander and pick up some groceries and other things but other than that she only had tonight to think about.
She’d been working her ass off recently to make as much money as she could before her flight. But the end looked to be in sight, her passport had finally come through after weeks of deals and setbacks, so she had booked her flight straight away, and in a few nights she would be returning to Ireland to see her best friend.
She had spoken to Georgina almost every day for the past seven weeks, always making time to have a long chat with her speaking as though nothing could be wrong, but Georgina wasn’t well. She’d become riddled with disease, her immune system no longer fighting off the infections, she spoke quietly on the phone and their conversations were filled with coughing fits and breaks to let Georgina get her breath back. Often Amanda would do all the talking while Georgina just listened, too exhausted to speak. They had written to each other as well, frequently at first, but soon Georgina’s letters began to arrive less often, and the writing got shakier and shakier. Then finally the writing changed altogether as Georgina began dictating to one of her carers instead.
The phone calls would often upset Amanda, sometimes she would cry openly, but more often her tears where silent as she listened to her dying friend. The letters were just as bad, now and again she would sit and read back through them, going over her favourites to re-read those words that meant so much to her, inevitably it ended in tears.
Amanda felt alone, more alone now than when she had first arrived in the USA. She often pondered that, she put it down to the fact that she had made friends. Made them and lost them. She had a few other friends, Stuart, some of the other pros, people in her tenement, but no one who really knew her, who she really spent quality time with. It was all polite conversation and pleasantries and little else. Even Stuart had grown more aloof since Georgina had left, but he remained by her side and protected Amanda on the streets.
Amanda crawled out of bed and after a moment in the bathroom she settled in the kitchen over a bowel of porridge. Georgina had always found this funny, porridge for breakfast. It had provided Georgina with hours of entertainment and plenty of ammunition to make fun of Amanda with, but Amanda really enjoyed her breakfast and always looked forward to the nice hot bowl of porridge. It had been a holdover from her orphanage days and Amanda still found it warming as it filled her up nicely for the day. She always felt more awake afterwards and ready to take on the world.
After cleaning up she changed from the tee shirt she wore to bed and dressed in boot cut jeans and a top to potter about the apartment in for a while. When she wasn’t out working on the streets, she preferred a slightly more normal style of dress that didn’t broadcast her job to the world. She loved wearing jeans or loose skirts and either a fitted camisole or tank top.
After a little while she had headed down to the lobby to pick up her post. She said hi to a few people she knew, pulled her post from her letter box and flicked through it. She noticed a letter from Ireland in there, and the moment she saw the familiar post mark she rushed upstairs and ripped it open. The usual handwriting of the carer filled the page, finished off with Georgina’s signature that looked shakier than ever. Amanda settled herself on her bed and began to slowly read it.
Dear Amanda
I hope this letter finds you well and that you are looking forward to finally coming over to see me in a little while. It’s been so long and although I hear your voice on the phone I can’t wait to finally see you and give you a big hug, I miss you terribly.
I’m sorry for not having written to you for so long but it’s exhausting to do and I find I can only do short letters or one long one in several parts. Thank you for your lovely letters and gifts, they mean so much to me and I often have the carers read them aloud, but I’m looking forward to talking to you face to face again.
I’m in the midst of the usual tests and things. I know it’s not going to be long now, the doctors seem to be treating me for the pain and little else, it’s just a case of making me as comfortable as they can, and I’m grateful for everything they do. I look just horrific, so don’t be surprised when you see me for the first time. The bed sores especially are quite painful when the pain killers wear off.
I had so many ideas for this cottage that I wanted to do, but I just can’t these days. The bedroom is lovely, which is understandable seeing as I spend so much time in here, but there’s work to be done elsewhere i
n the house I’m afraid. I hope you’re able to muck in a bit.
I’ll make this one a short letter as I will see you in a few days anyway. Take care of yourself and please take precautions, you really don’t want to end up like me.
Love you lots.
Georgie.
Amanda found herself in tears by the end of the letter and held it to her breast, her eyes closed as she let her emotion subside. She would indeed see her friend soon, just a few more days and nights to top up the bank account while she waited for her flight and all would be okay.
That afternoon she made a start on packing her clothes away, making some choices on what she would keep out for the next few nights work. For the past few weeks she had been busy slimming down her things, she didn’t have too much to begin with but what she had was too much to take with her to Ireland. Most of it she had given to friends or charity shops of one kind or another, and she had thrown a lot of it out which meant her apartment looked terribly bare. She sometimes wondered what the servers in the shops thought to her bringing all these tiny skirts and tops in for them. She could finally give up working the streets and stop wearing these ridiculous clothes, she couldn’t wait.
By now she had just about the right amount to take with her to Ireland. She had sent some of it ahead already, the things she couldn’t carry with her, and now only her clothes and other day to day bits where left. As the evening approached she changed from her jeans and top into a white lycra boob tube and slightly flared white mini skirt. She pulled on a pair of matching knee socks that would help with the cool night air but also gave her a kinky edge that some of her Johns liked, before finishing it off with a denim jacket. She then pulled on her high stilettos and headed out into the night.
Magi Saga 1: Epic Calling Page 5
