Message Bearer (The Auran Chronicles Book 1)

by Dobing, M. S.

  ‘They escaped.’ Farouk growled. He turned his good eye to Marek.

  ‘They did indeed. It appears that our little bird had an abrupt change of allegiance.’ Marek ran one delicate finger over the inside of the narrow passageway. The two were far away now, escaping by the hatch at the back of the church. He sensed the sheol nearby, out of sight. He sent a final command to their leader.

  Remember. Let them go. Do not interfere.

  The reply came instantly. As you wish, My lord.

  ‘Did it work?’ Farouk said.

  Marek paused, sensing again. A moment later he turned and nodded.

  ‘I believe it did. I shall call our friend and let him know. The window of opportunity will be narrow. We must be ready.’

  ‘You have great faith in this plan, and yet it can all go wrong at the last. Such is the fragility of this house of cards you have built.’

  Marek levelled a gaze of steel at the daemon. The alliance with the sheol was something he did not enjoy, yet it was a necessity if his plan was to succeed. They felt the same, and now more daemons were coming through, and not just the rambling hordes that possessed the weak minded. Even now he could feel their loyalty to him wavering. The Consensus was almost weakened beyond recovery. If it failed completely, the sheol would be free to cross without burden.

  Marek smiled. That would not be allowed to happen. He gave his most polite nod before leaving.

  Chapter 46

  ‘Cade, you must sit down, this endless pacing is going to do you no good.’ Silas said.

  ‘Sit down? Really, Father? After what’s just happened?’ Cade turned and resumed walking up and down in front of his father’s desk.

  How had it gone so wrong? How did they not know that they were walking into a trap? Those magi! Those useless goddamned magi! Four people had died, Seb had been taken. How the hell could he just calm down?

  ‘Father’s right, dear Brother, the magi were out of their depth. Their losses are regrettable, yes, but really, isn’t it just what they deserved?’

  ‘Deserved?’ Cade rounded on Reuben, his older brother even more infuriating by the way he slumped, legs over one arm of the chair, gnawing on a ham hock taken from the canteen. ‘How the hell is any death deserved?’

  ‘You sympathise too much, brother. The magi brought this on themselves; perhaps now they will reconsider before they embark on such foolhardy missions.’

  ‘Foolhardy?’ Was this for real? He looked back at his father, at Reuben, and then back again. Neither of them couldn’t give less of a shit if they tried. ‘What am I not seeing here? Why do you not care? Nothing’s changed, the sheol are still coming though, and now we’ve lost our only point of information.’

  Silas sighed, the motion exaggerated, clearly for effect. ‘I am sure there will be another way to correct this unfortunate situation.’

  ‘Situation?’ Cade was about to explode. The door opened to their private chamber and his father raised a hand, silencing him before his rant continued. Albert had a phone in his hand, he waved it at Silas, nodding him over.

  ‘If you will excuse me, my son,’ Silas said, the fake sadness gone as he leapt from his chair.

  ‘You need to let it go, Cade, I mean that.’ Reuben said.

  ‘Let it go, or what?’

  ‘You just need to decide whose side you’re on, that’s all I mean.’

  Cade squared up to his brother. His temple pulsed, adrenalin flooding his veins. ‘Again, I ask, or what?’

  Cade felt the guards at the side of the room - Reuben’s men - bristle at the looming confrontation.

  ‘Really, Brother, me now? Is this how far you’ve fallen?’

  There were four guards in total, all of them the best of those ranks that made it through in recent months. He could take them, all of them, but not before Reuben had put a knife in his back. Reuben knew it too, and the smile on his face only increased the growing fury.

  ‘Reuben,’ Silas called over, entering the room with Albert. ‘A word.’

  Cade watched as his brother moved past him. He stared at the floor, drawing in deep breaths. Something wasn’t right. The Nexus. The ambush. The loss of Seb. Now this crazy behaviour. It just didn’t sit right.

  ‘Cade.’

  The word, uttered in a tone of ice, made him turn on the spot.

  ‘What is this?’

  Silas stood by the door, Reuben next to him. The guards were stood to attention, hands resting on their weapons.

  ‘I am truly sorry, my son,’ Silas said, slowly shaking his head.

  Something tugged at Cade, a hot pain that got stuck in his throat. A sudden grief swallowed his anger. ‘What is it, Father, what’re they doing?’

  ‘Don’t make this more unpleasant than it already is, Brother.’ Reuben said, taking a step forwards, his men mirroring his step.

  Cade took a step backwards. He folded his arms, one hand slipping into his other sleeve.

  ‘Don’t, Cade, this is not necessary.’

  ‘You tell me what is going on, and then I’ll decide what’s necessary.’

  ‘The world is changing, Brother. The magi are extinct, a relic of a dying age. We must turn to something more, our roots, our true Brothers, in order to prosper.

  ‘What are you doing, Father?’ Cade backed towards the desk. Two of the guards had detached themselves from the wall. They maintained their distance, matching his movement. Silas stepped forwards, flanked by Reuben and his remaining warriors.

  ‘Cade, you are truly your mother’s son, but, like her, you simply don’t have the stomach to do what needs to be done.’

  It struck him like a sledgehammer.

  ‘The Nexus? You set us up? You’re in league with them?’

  ‘You see, you simply don’t have the vision. You cannot see.’

  Cade shook his head. ‘Cannot see what? That you’ve sold yourselves to the devil? You’ve broken the Oath!’

  ‘That Oath isn’t fit to exist anymore!’ Silas said. Reuben smiled. The others nodded with earnest. Cade lowered his arm, putting his hands in his pocket. He found what he was looking for. He pressed the touch screen from memory, hoping it would call the right recipient.

  ‘The magi are lost. A relic. They are not what they once were and we,’ Silas said, calm returning to him now, ‘are no longer bound to a memory.’

  ‘And what? So we sign up with the other side instead? What’s it all for, Dad? What do you get out of it?’

  Silas smiled as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Why, to rule of course.’

  ‘Rule?’ Cade passed the desk. The line was dimmer here, away from the glowing ambience of the chandelier. Reuben sensed it too. Cade saw his brother tense, shooting a directing look at the goon nearest him.

  ‘Of course. We are imbued. The sheol are strong, but they cannot thrive here, the Consensus prevents it. The humans are cattle. They are merely shells of blood and water without any connection to the Weave. We would be like kings, and they will be our slaves.’

  He was insane. Cade could see that now. The act of benign ruler, loyal servant of the Oath, defender of the Brotherhood, it was all an act. A show to obscure the truth.

  ‘So why take Seb, what does that accomplish?’

  ‘He’s stalling for time, Father. Let us end this so we can get to the mansion and complete our mission.’

  Their eyes locked across the room, a mutual understanding grown from years of training. Reuben wasn’t intending to let him leave the room alive, but neither did Cade intend to let himself be taken.

  ‘Take him!’

  Cade wasn’t a fan of gunplay, but he wasn’t averse to using it when required. Before the two warriors nearest him could move he’d put a bullet in their heads, the pistol holstered against his back out in the blink of an eye. The others cartwheeled away as he fired across the room, upholstery exploding in plumes of stuffing, wood splintering as bullets sprayed.

  Reuben bundled Silas out of the door, narrowly avoiding a bullet that
pinged off the door frame. Reuben shot a look of pure hatred back at Cade as it shut behind them.

  Two brothers had fallen in his surprise attack. Two remained, and now his weapon clicked, the barrel empty.

  ‘Oh dear, oh dear, Cade,’ Korban, Reuben’s right hand man, said. His voice, laced with a sneer, drifted through the gun smoke. ‘It looks like -’

  Cade was up and over already. Korban saw him coming but froze, his brain caught between speech and action. Cade was on him, silver garrotte drawn taut between clenched fists.

  The other warrior barrelled into Cade from the side, his reactions better than that of his leader. The wind left Cade as he smashed into a marble pillar. He blocked a follow up kick to the face, but another found the side of his head and he was sent tumbling across the floor, throbbing heat on one side of his face. He vaulted up, hands up in a receiving stance, the room swaying before him.

  Korban had recovered now and bounded over. His face was a rictus of rage, the warrior shamed that he’d almost been killed because of his own arrogance. He gripped a silver-flecked short sword in one hand and a throwing knife in the other. Cade shook his head and tried to focus, the room constantly shifting.

  Korban raised the knife. Cade tensed, readying himself, but the knife never came. The other warrior, eager for his own scalp, stepped in front of Korban, the other warrior cursing as he moved round, trying to find another vantage point.

  Cade didn’t need a second invitation. This was his one opportunity. He darted forward, diving inside the clumsy attack from the first warrior. He came up inside, a punch striking the man’s stomach, driving the air from him. Cade followed through, aiming an elbow at the man’s exposed chin. The strike glanced against bone, knocking him back, before a searing pain suddenly erupted in Cade’s back.

  Cade fell away, staggering from his stunned opponent. Korban stood before him, one hand empty of the knife that now protruded from Cade’s side. Blood poured from the wound, but it was light, not dark, no major organs injured. He could feel the burning already though, the daemon-killing poison already worming its way through his veins.

  ‘What’s the matter, Bossman? Not feeling too good?’ Korban circled round him, smiling. The other warrior came forward at the same time, rubbing one hand over his jaw. Before Cade could even react, the warrior backhanded him, sending him sprawling in a heap against the desk.

  ‘My, oh my, your brother said you’d put up more of a fight than this, I didn’t think it would be so easy.’

  Korban stepped closer. Cade couldn’t see him, but he could sense the movement in the air, the distance only a couple of feet at most. A shadow cast over him, the other warrior taking up position on his other side. Korban moved lightly, his steps not audible, but the other bounced on cold stone. It smacked of overconfidence, of opportunity.

  Cade rolled onto his stomach, bringing his knees upwards. The other man stepped closer. A foot away now. Just a little closer.

  ‘We should take a picture of -’

  Now.

  Cade whipped the knife out of his side, ignoring the flash of pain, and hurled it sideways. It was a clumsy throw but the distance was next to nothing, almost impossible to miss. He heard the familiar hiss of tearing flesh as the man pivoted, eyes wide, hands clutched against his neck where blood pissed through his fingers.

  Cade rolled away, springing to his feet. Korban was experienced enough not to be fazed by the sudden event and he didn’t disappoint. The warrior was on him already, sword slashing, the blade clanking against the iron rods in Cade’s sleeves. Cade backpedalled, completely on the defensive without a weapon of his own. With every passing second the poison crept that much farther in his veins. Stabbing points of pain stung his legs and black veins cracked over his vision.

  Cade parried two more strikes that were aimed at his chest. With the third strike, Korban feinted. Cade saw the move but his leaden limbs couldn’t match his mind. Korban kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him flying into the wall, the wind blasted from his lungs.

  He was done. Korban rushed forwards, business end of the sword aimed at his heart. His limbs were leaden, the energy wiped from them. He fixed Korban with eyes that saw just shadow, and waited for the inevitable.

  The door exploded inwards, sending shards of wood flying through. Someone, a figure, a blur, roared into the room. Korban shouted. A gun fired. Cade winced, expecting the worst. Something grunted and hit the ground next to him with a wet thud.

  ‘Cade!’

  Someone, a familiar voice, came close. A shadow fogged his vision.

  ‘Shit, he’s poisoned! Get me some anti-venom, now!’

  ‘Father...’ It was his voice, but distorted, far away.

  ‘Don’t worry about him for now. We need to get you safe.’

  ‘They betrayed us. They betrayed us all.’

  Darkness came, and he fell into the abyss.

  Chapter 47

  ‘So, what’s your story?’ Seb said.

  The escape from the church had been remarkably incident free since they burst out of the passage. Two sheol had met them there, but they were half-mad, half-starved. Sylph dispatched them before they even realised that she was there. After that they forced themselves through a section of broken links in the fence, before running down a steep, wet hill of grass that ran down the back of the compound. Now they walked down a narrow side street, keeping to the shadows, the only light from a couple of streetlights that flickered intermittently.

  ‘What do you want to know?’ Sylph stopped at a corner, pressing herself flat against the wall. She did this a lot, Seb noticed, apparently not trusting their own sense. When she was satisfied they were still in the clear she moved out, keeping again to the shadows.

  ‘Let’s start with you. You’re not a daemon. You’re not possessed. Why are you working with them?’

  ‘I was deceived. I believed they were something they are not.’

  Seb raised an eyebrow. ‘Really, what did you hope they were? They don’t exactly try to hide their nature with smiles and a warm demeanour.’

  Sylph stopped. She spun around, fixing him with an icy stare.

  ‘We do things we have to do in times of war, even if we don’t want to.’

  ‘Are you for real? You agree with what they were doing? Taking the weak, the feeble? Possessing them like they were nothing more than empty vessels?’

  Sylph’s eyes flared in the dark. ‘They were the lost. They were possessed because they could be, nothing else. If the sheol hadn’t done that then they’d be dead anyway, by what means I’ll leave that to this wonderful world of yours.’

  ‘It doesn’t excuse what they’ve done. What you’ve done!’

  They were nose to nose now. Energy crackled in Seb’s fists, and he could sense Sylph’s posture shifting, tensing.

  ‘You have no idea what I’ve been through. What my people have been through,’ Sylph whispered, her voice so sharp it could cut through glass. ‘You live here, on Earth, in your safe place. You have no idea what’d gone on before you arrived on the scene. How many lives have been lost because of what your kind did!’

  ‘My kind? The magi?’

  ‘Yes! And you’re betraying Brotherhood.’ Tears streamed down her face now, her arms trembling as she spoke. The aggression drifted away like a breeze, allowing another, rawer, emotion to rise to the fore. He remained silent. She needed to get this out.

  ‘We claw out an existence, the survivors of Balor, the true followers of the One God, living on rocks like a mollusc, hiding in shadows, living in fear.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I had no idea,’ he said, shaking his head.

  ‘You wouldn’t would you!’ she spat. ‘None of you do! History is written by the winners, by those who survived. Great Danu and his followers managed to escape the Sharding, but what about those who followed Balor? We were meant to be both sides of the same coin, that’s what the scriptures told us. But no, you survived, and we were left to fend for ourselves.’

  �
��I didn’t know there were two factions. The tomes I read only talk of Danu and the Crossing. I’d never heard of Balor’s followers.’

  ‘Looks like both of us have been deceived then.’

  Sylph turned away without a word. She walked ahead of him, the mood following her like a cloud. She sniffed as she walked, stomping down the middle of the alley, splashing through puddles and knocking debris to one side with a clatter. Every now and again another sniff filled the air.

  They stopped twenty minutes later. Sylph paused, scanning the alley for something.

  ‘What is it?’ Seb cast his sense forwards. Sylph’s aura fluctuated before him. A beam of Weave-energy projected out from her. He stopped.

  ‘You’re skills are good.’

  Sylph didn’t look round. She moved along the wall, her fingers trailing over the uneven stone. ‘You sound surprised.’

  ‘Marek has taught you a lot.’

  ‘He was good to me, once.’

  ‘How did you come to be with him? You know he was once one of us?’

  ‘He told me. He was one of them, but became disillusioned with their ways. How much of this is true anymore I don’t know, but he told me that when he found out about the plight of the Baloran’s he begged the Magister for aid, but they rejected him.’

  ‘So you’re a Baloran? A native from there?’

  Sylph held out her wrist. A red rune, faded with time, was etched into the skin.

  ‘It’s a Baloran symbol. I don’t remember anything about my childhood. All I know is that I’m not human, and that I’ve struggled to fit in all my life. That is, until Marek found me.’

  ‘Then why help me? Why now?’

  ‘I saw Sarah’s dreams. I realised that Marek had betrayed me too. He’d told me that the sheol were victims of Danu’s betrayal too, that they were our kin.’

  Sylph let out a rueful laugh and looked to the ground.

  ‘What did you see?’

  ‘The sheol. They were desecrating Balor’s holy site.’

  Sylph’s head rose. Eyes brimming with fury faced him.

  ‘What was Sarah doing there?’ Seb said.