Marek smiled back. ‘My dear, Cian, even now, at the end, you still cling to an ideal that has no place in this world. It was your blindness that led to this. I knew how arrogant you would be, how you fell for this plan I so carefully laid out.’
‘You planned this! All of it!’ Seb heard himself say.
‘Ah, my little mageling. You have done well to endure what has transpired. When Sarah fell I thought my plan’s had fallen at the last. It was sheer luck that she found you.’
‘Be silent!’ Cian roared.
The giant warrior edged forwards. The circle of sheol closed slightly around him.
‘Is this how it ends, noble Cian? You falling by my hand, the last of the brain-washed magi dead at my feet?’
‘I tire of your bleating, Marek. You were always a good talker, but in the end you are as I found you all those years ago.’ Cian stopped his advance. His mouth curled into a rare smile. ‘You are weak. Dim-witted and weak. My only shame is that I didn’t kill you then, rather than soil my tunic with your tainted blood this day.’
The smile dropped from Marek’s face in an instant. His eyes crackled with energy and his fists clenched by his sides.
‘Be ready. It comes.’ Cian hissed.
‘You always were a fool, Cian. Blinded by loyalty. When I gain the power of the Spoke Stone I will make sure I keep you alive for all eternity whilst I strip the flesh from your bones.’
‘You talk too much, Marek. Let us end this now.’
Marek scowled. His eyes narrowed. He shot a look at the gathered sheol.
‘End them!’
‘Now!’ Cian yelled.
At once they charged. Cian at the front, projecting a concentrated field of force. They fell in behind him. The sheol, startled at first, raced to meet them. They charged headlong into a roaring, snapping mass of daemon.
Seb!
Seb didn’t hesitate. He called the Runic Script that Cian had taught him moments earlier. It burned through much of his reserves, and for a moment he thought it had failed. But then the mass in front of him vanished. The world blurred by, and he found himself on the other side of the carnage behind Marek, facing the doors to the sanctum. Alongside him Sylph and Cade appeared, carried by the same magic. They skidded to a halt.
‘We made it!’
Behind them the sheol piled onto the blazing inferno that Cian had become. Seb ran to the massive doors that barred the way to the sanctum.
‘How does this work?’ He ran his fingers over the ornate brass work, trying to find the mechanism that Cian had told him of.
‘Seb. I think we need to hurry,’ Cade said, his attention still facing towards the battle behind them. Seb snatched a look up. Marek was turned their way, his face a rictus of fury.
Shit.
It must be here! Seb ran his hand over the panelling that ran alongside the door frame. He stopped. What was that? He moved his hand back up. The panel tingled with a subtle energy. He placed his hand on the panel. Something passed through him and his skin rippled in gooseflesh. He called the Script Cian had shown him, the one only known to the inner circle. A lock clicked, and the door swung open.
‘We’re in!’
The three raced down the stairs that led into the Inner Sanctum. Seb emerged first into the familiar chamber. The Spoke Stone stood before him, surrounded by its ornate bronze carvings. He heard the others arrive behind him but didn’t slow. He had to do this now whilst he still had strength in his legs. He raced over. He reached the base of the stand and reached out for the Stone.
Marek materialised before him.
No!
Before Seb could even react, the mage struck out with the back of his hand, sending him sliding across the ground, finally coming to a halt when he smacked into the wall.
‘Seb!’
Cade looked at Marek, and him, and then back again. He dashed forwards, weapons raised. He struck at Marek but the weapons passed through him like he wasn’t even there. Cade stood, confused, before Marek pushed out with his palm. Cade rose into the air and smashed into the wall above the doorway. He slid to the ground in a heap. Only Sylph remained.
But where was she?
Seb scanned the room. He couldn’t draw on the Weave. Something was blocking him, preventing him connecting. The impact had knocked out the last ounce of energy he had. Through blurred vision he tried to spot her but she’d simply vanished into thin air.
Then the shadows above the Spoke Stone moved. Sylph appeared from the darkness. She took the Stone in her hand and dropped to the ground in between Seb and Marek. For a fleeting moment a glimmer of panic crossed the mage’s face before the icy calm returned.
‘Sylph. My dear child. I am pleased to see you have survived this long.’
‘Don’t lie. You betrayed me. You betrayed everything.’
Sylph spoke through gritted teeth. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched the stone to her chest and took a step backwards. By the door Reuben arrived, accompanied by several of the turned Brothers. A sad thought flickered in Seb’s mind as he realised what this meant for Cian. The Second Sword grinned when he saw Cade slumped unconscious on the floor.
‘My child. It was for your own good.’ Marek shook his head, stepping forwards. ‘You were such a disappointment. I thought I’d trained you better than that.’ He edged closer to Sylph, one hand extended outwards. She swayed on her feet as if under some kind of spell.
‘Sylph! Ignore him!’ Seb tried to stand but his legs had turned to jelly. He dropped again to his knees.
‘My child. I do not want you to suffer. Come to me. Give me the stone. We are victorious, you and I. Together we will restore Balor to his rightful place.’
‘No.’
Her words didn’t match her actions. She took a step forwards.
‘Sylph! No!’
Seb managed to stand and take a step forwards. Beyond, Cade began to stir, but all eyes were on the exchange going on in the middle of the room.
‘Come here, my child. Let me release you from your pain.’
Sylph and Marek took a step forward at the same time. They met each other, Marek drawing her into his arms.
Seb’s sense returned. He couldn’t channel still, but he could cast out. He focussed on Sylph, expecting to see her under Marek’s control.
Strange. He could sense the fugue upon her mind, Marek’s powers dulling her senses, but at the same time something else lingered, the same defiance that kept her alive when suffering Clementine’s barrage.
That’s when her hand dropped into her pocket. Seb froze. Marek lifted Sylph’s face by the chin. Her tear-filled eyes stared at him. His eyes began to glow purple.
‘I am sorry, Father,’ she said.
Marek frowned. ‘For what, child?’
‘This.’
Sylph snapped the object from her pocket. Seb recognised it instantly. The Void collar! Before Marek could even respond she whipped it round his neck. Marek realised the danger all too late. He pushed out with force, sending Sylph flying away just as the collar clicked shut. Marek howled as the dampening field he emitted abruptly vanished.
Seb stood up, his connection to the Weave restored in an instant.
Reuben looked back and forth, confused. Seb took advantage and dove for the Stone that still lay, cradled in Sylph’s arms. Marek screamed and lunged too, but Seb, even with the lightest access to the Weave, was able to beat him there. He took the stone and whipped it away from the mage. He leapt back and hefted it above his head. Marek reached towards him, arms outstretched, pleading.
‘No! No!’
Reuben began to move, but something caught him by the arm. He pivoted, finding Cade standing there, weapons at the ready. Reuben lashed out on instinct. Cade ducked and thrust a needle-thin dagger up through his brother’s armpit. Reuben’s sword clattered to the floor. He swung his other arm in a feeble left hook but the blow just bounced off Cade’s shoulder. Reuben’s eyes widened as his younger brother took a step forwards and slid a swor
d in through his ribs. Reuben let out a surprised gasp as he slumped forwards onto Cade’s neck.
‘You’ve been learning well, brother,’ he whispered.
Reuben let out a final breath before he slumped to the floor by Cade’s feet. Without pause the warrior looked up, ignoring Reuben’s remaining guards that surrounded him. He caught Seb’s eye across the room.
Do it.
With one final thought about the impact this action would have on the world, Seb smashed the stone into a thousand pieces.
‘What have you done? What have you done?’ Marek cried. He reached for the collar on his neck but the mechanism, designed to be impossible to open by the wearer, eluded him.
‘Stopped you. That’s all that mattered.’
‘You have undone us. All of us! I would’ve made us kings!’
The ground began to rumble. It reverberated throughout the chamber; a dull, throbbing growl that grew in volume until the very walls seemed to shake. A pulse of magic surged through Seb the likes he’d never experienced before. Then, from somewhere beyond reality, he heard the sonorous chant of the sentinels.
‘They are coming,’ Seb said to the prostrate Marek. The mage froze, his eyes showing fear for the first time.
‘What? No, they cannot be! They were banished!’
‘Who’s coming?’ one of Reuben’s guards said, his yellow eyes scanning the room in a mad panic.
That was when the giant stone knights on either side of the door lifted their heads and stepped off their pedestals.
***
Rurik, one of Reuben’s most trusted warriors, stood leaning against the massive stone gargoyle as he surveyed the burning mansion. Before him rows of sheol lined up across the grassy slope, primed and ready to pick off any escapees that fled from the inferno. He smiled to himself. It had been costly, and the alliance with the sheol wasn’t something he was entirely comfortable with, but the battle was won. The magi were gone, the blight removed. The Brotherhood were free to resume their place at the top of the human hierarchy.
He didn’t really register the rumble at first. His mind knew, sensing some dull sound that seemed to growl beneath the earth, not quite triggering his auditory nerves but tingling at the edge of his perception.
Even when he was sure he felt something in the air around him he just shrugged it off. There was Weave magic in the air, he told himself, god knows what weird effects killing all these magi would do.
Even when the statue began to move, his mind didn’t quite cotton on. It was only when he fell to the ground as the giant stone gargoyle stepped off its pedestal did he realise what was happening. The last thing his eyes saw was the massive stone foot as it smashed down on his head.
Further down the line, away from the screams as a stone giant ran amok, sheol soldiers blinked and squinted as the air shimmered before them. Robed figures stepped out of the gloom, silver eyes glinting in the moonlight. They moved like cats in the night, Weave-forged blades flashed. Blood sprayed. Sheol screams filled the night.
Silas heard the screams. He felt the disturbance in the Weave. He wasn’t a mage of course, but he’d been on this earth for over a thousand years and had grown used to the sensation of its subtle workings.
He wasn’t scared at first. Silas was never scared. At first he thought it a rogue mage escaping the mansion, perhaps taking a couple of the sheol by surprise, but when the screams continued, the concern rippling through the remainder of his army, it suddenly required his attention.
He’d taken one step when something moved nearby. He stopped and turned, his bodyguards following suit. His mouth dropped slightly. For the briefest moment something akin to fear flickered inside his chest.
A hooded warrior stood on the grass, head dipped.
Silas’ weak sense blazed. Something tingled in his memory, the very Weave-signature something he remembered, something from long, long ago. He couldn’t place a face. A name. But something wasn’t right about this.
‘Guards’, he said, ‘eliminate that.’
His men didn’t have his level of sense. Nor did they notice their leader take a step back. They obeyed without question, weapons rising to fire.
The air cracked. The warrior blurred into the two men. They didn’t even have time to scream as a silver sword flashed once. Twice. One gurgled as he fell. The other dropped with a wet squelch, blood pulsing from his open neck. The warrior stepped over the dying brother, stopping within a foot of Silas.
‘Who are you, fiend?’ Silas said, ‘I know you, I know I do.’
The warrior raised his hood, exposing hidden features in the gaze of the full moon.
Silas sagged, knees hitting the floor, the coldness seeping into his skin.
‘No! No! It cannot be!’
The warrior knelt before him, their faces level. Silas remembered now, a buried memory bubbling to the fore.
It remembers. A voice, ancient as time, pulsed into his mind.
‘You died. I saw you die.’
Silas, Night Brother. You know better than that.
Silas opened his mouth to speak, but the words melted into a gurgle as a silver blade slid into his windpipe. The thousand year old leader of the Brotherhood, Night Brother and First Sword, died alone, sightless eyes staring at an unsympathetic moon.
Epilogue
‘Cian?’
Seb gently stepped over the countless sheol bodies. The hooded sentinel warriors had left as quickly as they’d appeared, slaughtering the sheol with a divine fury, only to vanish back into the void when not one remained standing. Seb moved through the carnage now, hoping against hope that they weren’t too late.
‘Seb!’ Cade hissed. Seb ran over and his heart sank. Cian lay before them, half sat up against the wall. Piles of dead sheol lay around him, all bearing the injuries from Cian’s staff. Cian’s blue eyes fixed on them as they approached. He managed a pained smile.
‘Marek?’
‘He’s dead, Master. The sentinels returned. Skelwith has been purged.’
‘You did it, boy. You only went and did it.’
Seb dropped to his knees before the warrior. He blinked away tears, not wanting to show weakness. Cian’s aura was fading by the second. He didn’t have long.
‘Don’t worry.’
‘I’m sorry, Cian. I didn’t want it to come to this.’
Cian coughed. Spots of red splattered onto his tunic. ‘You have nothing to apologise for, boy. Nothing. Now come closer. I do not have long.’
Seb leaned in closer. The building rumbled again. Somewhere in the remains of the mansion another wall thundered to the ground. Sylph and Cade exchanged worried looks in silence.
‘The Consensus is broken. Do you feel it?’ Cian said.
‘I do. What does it mean?’
Cian smiled. ‘I don’t have a clue. All I know is that change is coming. Already I can feel the Weave entering this realm, unchecked. How it affects it, how it impacts the Unaware is a mystery to all of us. You will feature in this new world, boy. How you do this is up to you.’
‘What do I do? There’s so much I don’t know.’
Cian’s face scrunched as a wave of pain racked his dying body. He let out a shaky breath. ‘There are others out there. The mage Families. They will come seeking answers. Some will help you. You will need them in the trials to come.’
A wave of emotion washed over Seb. It dawned on him then, the family he’d discovered, the ones who made him feel like he belonged to something for the first time in his life, were leaving him. First Caleb. Now Cian. Even poor Harry. He stifled a sob and wiped a quick-running tear with the back of his hand.
‘No, Seb. Not alone. Not anymore.’
The hairs on the back of his neck rose as a gentle force rippled through the Weave like an astral wind. Seb stood and turned. His spirit soared and a smile broke out on his face that reached both ears.
Cade and Sylph stood before him, but behind them, manifested in their astral forms, stood all the magi that had fallen i
n defence of Skelwith. Harry. Mik. Don. The Magister. Dear Caleb. They all stood, proud in their mage tunics. As he watched he felt the change behind him. Cian materialised amongst the spirits, standing next to the Magister. None of them spoke, but the sentiment was clear.
You are one of us.
As one their images shimmered before fading back into the Weave. Only Caleb remained. He materialised before Seb, his grey eyes twinkling, even now.
‘I’ll come and see you, old man.’
Caleb smiled and nodded before fading away into the Weave.
***
Dawn was breaking as Seb, Sylph and Cade emerged from the rubble of the mansion. In silence they stepped over fallen brothers, magi and possessed. They marched in silence through the ruins, out onto the front lawn, where the sun was just cresting the tops of the conifers. Seb stopped, eyes closed, letting the warming rays bathe him.
‘Did we win? If that’s the right term,’ Sylph said, her eyes still wide and alert even after all she’d been through.
‘I cannot sense any sheol,’ Cade said. ‘Seb?’
Seb dipped his head, eyes closed. ‘There are some, but not many. They are without a leader and are running scared. They won’t last long in the sun. The authorities will capture them as lunatics.’
‘Silas?’ Cade said.
‘I do not know. I cannot sense him. Although it is unlikely he would’ve survived the sentinels.’ Seb placed a hand on the warrior’s shoulder. ‘I am sorry.’
Cade nodded slowly. Seb sensed the pain inside his friend but chose to stay silent. There were no words to be said.
‘What now?’ Sylph said, breaking the silence.
‘We go. Away from here.’
‘Where?’
Seb didn’t think he had an answer to that question until it was actually asked of him. There were questions he had. The tower. The voice in his mind. The serpentine warrior. Marek’s master. There were those out there who would have the answers he sought. Perhaps he would share with Sylph and Cade, but not yet. Not just yet. Instead, he simply smiled and nodded.
Message Bearer (The Auran Chronicles Book 1) Page 32
