Thaumatology 05 - Disturbia

by Teasdale, Niall

  ‘It’s magical, like the other one.’

  ‘Yes, but the field is stronger, and more complex,’

  Lily frowned. ‘That seems, uh, counterintuitive.’

  Ceri giggled. ‘You’ve spent far too much time around people with big vocabularies.’

  ‘It pays to improve your word power. So what do you think this field actually does? I figure they all have one.’

  ‘Well…’ Ceri was watching the portrait’s eyes. Eyes so black, so deep, they were bottomless. She felt drawn to them. ‘I think…’ She pushed forward, adding her own energy to the energy of the field.

  ‘Ceri?’ Lily said softly. ‘What are you… oh!’

  Elsewhere

  Ceri opened her eyes and then closed them again. The light was wrong. She swallowed and tried again. It was like looking at bright light through a haze of dust. The sunlight was brighter than it should have been, whiter, yet somehow golden. She sat up.

  Lily was at her side, her eyes still closed. That was both good and bad; at least they were both wherever the Hell they were. It seemed like a Victorian conservatory. There was glass on three sides, and in a dome overhead, and one whitewashed brick wall with a door in it. The furniture was rattan with flowery cushions on top. It looked… It looked like a painting of a room.

  Reaching out her hand, she touched Lily’s arm. ‘I’m awake,’ the half-demon said, ‘I just don’t like the light. Where are we?’

  ‘I think… I think we’re inside the painting…’

  ‘It’s a little like that.’ The voice came from the doorway and the speaker was a tall, attractive blonde. Ceri recognised her immediately. ‘You are in a fragment of Otherworld. A bubble, if you will, only accessible through the painting. I must say I’m impressed. You’re the first visitors I’ve had in twenty years.’

  ‘You’re Sylvia then?’ Lily said. She too was sitting up now. ‘The portrait was titled “Sylvia.”’

  The woman nodded. ‘It was the first painting Hadrian made after I met him.’ She smiled, her black eyes going distant in remembered pleasure. ‘I lay in that chaise, naked in the sunlight. I felt like a goddess.’ Now she was dressed in a long, pale skirt and a delicate white blouse. From the line of her waist she had to be corseted. ‘We were so in love and his work blossomed when we met…’ Her face fell. ‘I did not know what I was then. He died a year later, just after finishing “Tisiphone.” I wept over his coffin, and then I retreated into my painting.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ceri said.

  Sylvia looked at her and smiled. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘you are. Thank you. But neither of you are strangers to living in two worlds, are you? A half-demon and a sorceress. Fascinating.’

  Ceri frowned. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘This is my world, Ceridwyn Brent,’ Sylvia said. ‘I know everything in it.’ She gasped. ‘Where are my manners, get yourselves up off the floor and I’ll make some tea.’ She turned back into the house.

  ‘Do you need a hand?’ Lily asked as she climbed to her feet.

  ‘Oh no, Lily. If you leave this room you’ll never find your way back. You just sit down and I’ll be back shortly.’

  Lily turned and glanced at Ceri. Ceri shrugged and they sat together on the chaise longe Sylvia had lain on to be painted. ‘It’s like a sort of…’ Lily began.

  ‘Dream?’ Sylvia asked, walking back through the door with a tray of tea and biscuits. ‘In a way it is. You’ve never been to Otherworld, I take it?’ They both shook their heads. ‘It’s something of a dynamic place,’ Sylvia told them as she began pouring the tea. ‘Its nature in any particular domain depends upon the ruler of that domain. This is my domain, it appears as I wish it.’ She put down the tea pot and smiled. ‘Now, I’m sure you did not really come here to visit a poor old half-fae imprisoned in her memories.’

  Ceri picked up her cup. The tea smelled like tea; exactly like what you would imagine tea should smell like. ‘You mentioned one of Hadrian’s paintings, the one of Tisiphone.’

  The light in the room seemed to dim, as though clouds were passing over the sun. ‘His last work. So much of him went into it, you see. He knew he was dying though he tried to keep it from me. By then I knew it was my love for him which was killing him. I think he did too, but he never stopped loving me. That’s the curse, you see.’

  ‘Curse?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Leannan Sidhe love absolutely,’ Ceri said. ‘If their love is unrequited they become the slave of their lover. If their love is returned, they inspire him to new heights, but the intensity of it eventually kills him.’

  Sylvia nodded and more cloud covered the sun. ‘I think some of the spirit of Tisiphone went into that painting. Some part of him sought revenge on the world for his fate and that drew the Fury to him. It is sad that his final work should be so tainted. You should see his other pieces. “Calliope” makes your heart sing! Beautiful, radiant.’ The happy thought brought the sun out again, but it soon faded as her face fell. ‘Someone has used the painting? That is why you are here?’

  Ceri nodded. ‘That would fit. The man who owns it now, his daughter was murdered. Her ghost, her enhanced ghost, has been killing the people responsible.’

  ‘A perfect task for an agent of Tisiphone,’ Sylvia commented.

  ‘The thing is,’ Ceri went on, ‘I killed the man actually responsible and now she’s after me. Like I stopped her getting her revenge so she’s going to take it out on me.’

  Sylvia smiled bleakly. ‘Revenge, even just revenge, is never the palliative we think it will be. Vengeance has become her very reason for being. She cannot give it up. If she kills you she will find some other focus for her rage.’

  ‘So… how do we stop her?’ Lily asked.

  ‘The painting, dear,’ Sylvia replied. ‘You must enter the painting as you did mine and fight her there.’ Ceri narrowed her eyes as the sunlight seemed to grow brighter suddenly. ‘It’s time you were going,’ Sylvia said, though Ceri could no longer see her for the glare of the sun. ‘Think of me…’

  South Kensington

  The sound of the crowds in the Victoria and Albert Museum was loud in their ears. Ceri blinked and found herself looking at a museum guard.

  ‘Are you okay, Miss?’ the man asked, sounding concerned and a little confused.

  Ceri checked that Lily was there too before answering. ‘Yes,’ she said and waved a hand vaguely at the picture of the beautiful blonde on the wall in front of her. ‘I was just lost in the painting.’

  Surrey, near Bagshot, August 3rd

  Lily pulled the car up at the bottom of the garden, in the trees which screened the house from the road and would hopefully screen the car from the house. They had borrowed the vehicle from Carter after work at the Dragon and, as usual, it came with every comfort. Also as usual, Ceri was a nervous wreck by the time they reached their destination; the difference this time being that that was mostly because of what they planned to do.

  Slipping out of the Jaguar, Ceri pulled her staff out of the back and Lily slotted her knives into sheathes on her hips. The chances were that neither would be useful, but you never could tell. Keeping to the grass rather than the gravel of the drive, they headed up to the house.

  ‘So, how are we getting in?’ Lily whispered as they came to a stop a yard or two from the corner where the living room was. The windows were still covered in thick curtains; still, Ceri was pretty sure that some light would have shown through if anyone were up.

  ‘Trust me?’ Ceri asked, reaching out and placing her hand on Lily’s shoulder.

  ‘Implicitly.’

  ‘Take a deep breath,’ Ceri suggested. Lily vanished, and Ceri hurried to refocus her will and follow her before her pet got worried.

  Lily’s eyes were wide, but she was grinning like a maniac. ‘Teleportation!’ she whispered, trying to keep her enthusiasm quiet at least. ‘You can teleport?! That’s wider-fucking impossible!’

  ‘Ed taught me…’ Ceri responded, but she was cut off as Lily narrowed
the gap between them, her body pressing in firmly.

  ‘God, but I want you now,’ Lily growled.

  ‘We’re sneaking into someone’s house, Lil,’ Ceri reminded her, trying not to squirm as Lily’s hands sought out and found her behind.

  ‘Yes, now, on the floor…’ The half-succubus bit her lip and clenched her fists. ‘Maybe not an appropriate time.’

  ‘Not… really,’ Ceri replied, trying to settle her breathing. ‘We really have to do something about your tendency to… um…’

  ‘Want to fuck you stupid whenever you do anything cool?’

  ‘That, yeah.’

  ‘Half-succubus, what can I say?’ Lily looked a little sheepish, which was unusual; normally she was never embarrassed about her nature, but Ceri guessed there was a time and a place, even for a demon.

  Together they turned to look at the painting hanging over the fireplace. De la Vasco’s image of Tisiphone was a classically beautiful one; which meant she had a little more padding than might be expected on a modern girl. Of course, she had been painted around a century and a half ago, but even then this ideal of beauty was probably a little out of fashion. Still, the figure looked strong, muscular. Her jawline was firm, not exactly feminine, and her nose suggested a hint of Roman heritage rather than Greek. She was wrapped in a long length of black cloth, fixed in place by a gold braid which fell from one shoulder, down between her breasts, and then looped twice around her waist. By an amazing artistic coincidence, the cloth managed to hide most of the strategic areas, but left one breast exposed. Back in that age one could titillate as much as one wished, so long as the theme was Classical.

  The eyes, though, the eyes were dark, just like the ones in the painting of Sylvia. Ceri looked at them, stepping forward slightly to get a better view in the dark room. The only light came from a softly glowing rune mounted in the ceiling; a magical night light. ‘You ready for this?’ Ceri asked softly, reaching out for Lily’s hand.

  Lily’s fingers curled around Ceri’s. ‘I’m ready,’ she said.

  Ceri looked up at the eyes of the painting, the eyes of a Greek goddess looking down at her, and pushed her will toward them…

  Elsewhere

  They were standing on a vast, dark plain. The ground under their feet was cracked, black, dusty, and it crushed and compacted under their feet. Above them the sky was black. Thick clouds scudded overhead at hurricane rate, but not a whiff of breeze stirred the air on the ground. The air here was thick, musty, and hot. Somewhere off in infinity the ground and the sky met; there was no end to the dark, arid landscape.

  Once again the light was strange. It was not the quality of it this time, but the fact there was any at all. There was no source for the light around them, but there was light around them. It was dull, both in colour and intensity, but it was there.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Ceri turned to see a man standing behind them; Holloway, upright and standing, but looking like someone had drained the life out of him. His skin was as dull as the soil under his feet and his eyes had no life in them.

  ‘He wasn’t there a second ago,’ Lily said under her breath.

  ‘I don’t know whether this is Otherworld,’ Ceri replied, ‘but I’m sure it’s the same sort of construct as Sylvia’s world.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Holloway repeated. ‘You can’t be here.’

  ‘Why, Mister Holloway?’ Ceri asked.

  He staggered toward them, hands reaching upward, fingers almost clawed. ‘This is my daughter’s place, hers and mine. We can be together here forever. She can take revenge on those who took her from me, and we can be together…’

  ‘No,’ Ceri said, ‘you were right the first time. This is her place and she’s draining you more with every day you spend here.’

  ‘No, she…’

  ‘All the people she wanted revenge on are gone,’ Lily said. ‘She’s not going to come back here to you and live a happy life. She wants revenge for her lost years and she doesn’t care who she takes it from.’

  ‘No!’ Holloway snapped. ‘Julia…’

  ‘Julia will bring an end to all injustice, Father.’ The voice came from behind them once more. Julia was solid here, dressed in the same black wisp of cloth that Tisiphone was wearing in the painting. ‘I’ll seek out those who kill, and see to it that they never do it again. None will suffer as I did.’

  ‘You gave up that ideal when you started trying to make Newton suffer before he died,’ Ceri said. ‘You chose to harm others to make his punishment worse. You killed innocent people, in terror, just to make Newton more fearful.’

  ‘And all that did,’ Lily added, ‘was to make him take another victim.’

  ‘Your actions would have brought another girl to your fate if I hadn’t stopped him,’ Ceri said. ‘Then you have the nerve to come after me?’

  ‘Julia?’ Holloway’s voice was soft, worried. ‘Is this true?’

  The now solid ghost’s brow furrowed and she waved a hand dismissively. ‘Be gone, Father.’ Ceri glanced around to see Holloway’s eyes widen as his body seemed to unwind like smoke on a strong wind.

  ‘That’s how it goes then?’ Ceri asked. ‘He doesn’t agree with you so you get rid of him? You’re killing him, you know?’

  ‘He’s already dead,’ Julia replied. ‘When Mother died he was left with me. When I was killed he gave himself up to Tisiphone to get me back. And Tisiphone gave me the power to seek my revenge.’ Lightning flashed in the sky overhead as if to punctuate her statement. She reached out a hand, clenching her fist and Ceri felt the hot air tighten around her. From the gasp Lily gave out, the same was happening to her.

  ‘Tisiphone!’ Ceri yelled. ‘Tisiphone, hear me. She abuses your power. There must be justice, but justice has been served and now all she seeks is empty vengeance.’

  There was another gasp, this time from Julia. Ceri felt the tightening bands of energy vanish from around her. She glanced at Lily. ‘I can’t move,’ Lily said, ‘but it’s not getting tighter.’

  A female voice came from the air. ‘Fight.’ Expressionless, it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. ‘Fight so that I may determine the right of this.’ A sword appeared in Julia’s hands; over six feet in length with a long grip, it had a wide blade and cross-piece, and it gleamed.

  And Julia lifted it with no apparent effort, swinging it at Ceri’s head. Trial by combat; glorious, very just. Ceri’s training cut in and she side-stepped, her staff swinging out to knock the blade aside. Julia swept around, spinning on the ball of one foot to bring her sword around in a sweeping arc. Dancer, yeah, she had trained in dance. The steel slammed into wood and Ceri kicked out at Julia’s ankle only to have her dance away.

  Shifting her staff in her hands, Ceri glanced at the spot the sword had hit. There was not a mark on the wood; or was it the thought of wood. Was anything really real in this place? The line of thought stalled as the huge sword came swinging down out of the darkness. This time Ceri let it slam into the dirt as she stepped aside and then rammed the heel of her staff into Julia’s gut. The dead girl staggered backward, her eyes flashing.

  ‘You’ll pay for that,’ Julia hissed.

  ‘Empty threats are, well, empty,’ Ceri replied. She braced herself for the next attack… and found herself facing nothing.

  ‘Behind you!’ Lily yelled.

  Ceri threw her staff up and caught the descending blade before it bisected her skull, but Julia was gone again when she turned. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye on her right and twisted just in time to block another blow. Her staff swept through the space Julia had occupied and pain seared through her left thigh. Letting out a sharp scream, Ceri dropped to her left knee and swung her staff; Julia was not there. Ceri dropped and rolled; the sword swept over her head and then slammed into the dirt where she had been lying. Ceri rolled to her knees, heard Lily cry out, and pain exploded across the back of her skull.

  Blinking, Ceri opened her eyes. She was face down in the dust
y earth and she could sense Julia beside her. That sword was being raised to strike and Ceri’s limbs were not responding. This was it; she was going to be pinned to the unreal dirt by a sword made of thought and magic. Lifting her head, Ceri sought out Lily. If they were going to die then she wanted to see her lover one more time, to silently offer an apology… Lily’s eyes held no fear, no worry, only trust. No, more than trust, belief. Lily knew that Ceri could get her out of this. How could Ceri think anything different?

  The sword slammed downward toward Ceri’s back. Julia laughed exultantly, knowing she had won. The blade buried itself three feet into the black soil… but Ceri was not there.

  ‘This place,’ Ceri said from a few yards away, ‘is magic.’

  Wrenching her sword from the ground with a scream of outrage, Julia charged at Ceri. Ceri vanished, appearing behind her and pushing her staff down, tripping her opponent into an indecorous fall.

  ‘All of it,’ Ceri added. ‘Every little thing you see here is magic.’

  Once again Julia charged. This time her sword, and then her body, ran right through Ceri’s body. Ceri swept around, slapping the sword-wielder on the hip as she ran past.

  ‘I’m such an idiot,’ Ceri said. ‘This place is magic and I’m a sorceress. I am magic and if I can’t beat you here I deserve to die.’ Julia turned, raising her sword for an overhead strike, and Ceri returned the action, raising her staff in her right hand. The crystal globe at the head of the staff flared a brilliant white, lighting the field of battle with stark light, and Julia froze. Her muscles strained to bring the blade down, but Ceri’s magic held her there, unmoving.

  Lily gasped as the force holding her released. Crossing the space to where Ceri stood, she raised a hand to rest on her mistress’ shoulder. ‘I knew you could do it, my Mistress,’ she whispered. ‘What are you going to do with her?’

  The urge to finish the fight the way Tisiphone wanted was strong. A simple thought and Julia would be disconnected thaumic energy, a cloud of nothing floating in a world which did not really exist. ‘Not what she would do to me,’ Ceri said through gritted teeth. Beside her, almost imperceptibly, Lily relaxed.