A fireball arced up toward us from below, but a gust of wind blew it away long before it reached us. The response from our circle of pyromancers was a fireball the size of a house. It fell on the monastery, and everything flammable inside the compound caught on fire. The scene turned into a medieval depiction of hell.
The roar increased, pounding against my head. I felt like my eyes were going to shake out of their sockets. I clamped my jaw because my teeth were rattling against each other.
The cracks in the ground widened, and then, with a roar such as I had never heard, the promontory on which the monastery was built began to tilt and slide away. An avalanche carried the entire complex away and into the ocean.
We all stood in stunned silence for at least half an hour until the dust settled and we could hear the crash of the waves against the cliffs again. The vamps and shifters melted away into the darkness, and those of us on the ridgetop began making our way through the forest, down into a ravine, up the other side, then down to the road a mile away where we had left our cars.
No one talked. I think the enormity of what we had just done overwhelmed us. I knew we had killed hundreds of people and injured even more. Many of the mages who joined us had probably never killed anyone before.
A few members of the operation reached Rosie’s before the group Liam and I rode with. When we arrived around dawn, there was a celebration in progress, but I noticed that those who participated in the venture were more subdued than the rest of the patrons in the bar.
Sam had been the focal point of the aeromancers’ circle, and he arrived about twenty minutes after I did. He accepted congratulations, just as the rest of us did, but he wasn’t jovial.
The earthquake was on the news, of course, but the first reports of the avalanche at the monastery weren’t broadcast until I was halfway finished with my breakfast. It took a couple of more hours before the full scope of the disaster became clear. A spokesman for the Archdiocese read a statement for the TV cameras around noon, estimating the loss of life at around seven hundred people. Not all of those were Knights, of course, and unfortunately, Bonato had been asleep in his apartment at Saint Tobias Church in town.
Jordan Blair and Frankie came in around eight-thirty that evening.
“Good evening, Captain,” I said as they approached where Sam and I were sitting at the bar.
“What in the hell happened?” Blair asked.
“Good to see you, too,” Sam said.
“I’ve lived here most of my life, and I have never seen anything like that,” Frankie said. “An earthquake? My God, Sam, there are hundreds of casualties.”
Blair shook his head. “I don’t understand. Surely they had the monastery warded.”
“They did,” Sam said. “But you have to set wards around defined boundaries. The earth beyond and beneath the monastery complex couldn’t be protected.”
“Payback,” Maya Evans said from her seat at a table near us. “We’re tired of being passive while they attack us, kill our friends, and try to take over the world.”
The funniest part of the aftermath was the conservative evangelist preacher saying on TV, “The wrath of God hath smote the heretics of the Knights Magica.” His rant became a part of every national news story about the earthquake, along with speculation as to whether the earthquake was due to natural forces or magic.
Chapter 5
The Knights had no doubts about whether the earthquake and the resulting avalanche were natural.
Later that week, Oriel and I drove out to the place where the mages had formed the circles that destroyed the monastery, and the residual magic was strong enough to make my hair stand on end.
Our counterattack against the Knights inspired groups all over the country to launch their own assaults against the Knights in their areas. By the end of the following week, North America witnessed a full-scale magical civil war.
Alarmed, human authorities declared martial law and called out the armed forces. But what they could do was limited when faced with magic. The army and police mainly tried to protect vital infrastructure and people, but they were basically powerless to interfere with the conflicts between magic users. Until Columbus.
A mage battle erupted on the outskirts of Columbus, Ohio. A TV video shot from a distance showed what appeared to be two circles, each with a number of supporting mages, throwing fireballs, lightning, and globes of energy at each other. It went on for almost an hour until missiles fired from two U.S. Air Force fighter jets put a spectacular end to things, all caught in living color from different angles by two TV stations.
One of the problems with magic fighting against conventional human technology was distance. A mage, or a mage circle, had to be able to see what they were throwing things at, and the range of a circle was maybe a mile or two at most. The jets fired their missiles from more than two miles away and twenty thousand feet up, which was a close-range shot for such a weapon.
After a few encounters such as that, the mages on both sides got a lot more discreet, and the war evolved into more covert guerilla actions.
It was almost midnight a week after the monastery assault, and I was lurking in an alley in downtown Westport with McGregor, Oriel, Trevor, Steve Dworkin, and one of Oriel’s Fae buddies. We waited for a convoy of Knights. Earlier that evening, three SUVs filled with Knights had left St. Tobias for a raid on the North Bay shifter pack, and we expected them to pass by us on their way home.
I had spoken with the pack alpha, and he said the raid had been a resounding failure. The Knights still hadn’t caught on that Trevor had hacked their secure communications, and the shifters were ready for them.
Many of the streets leading to the church were no longer passable due to previous ambushes on the Knights and the city having given up on trying to keep them repaired. Only two routes were open to the Knights, and we guessed they would use the same route going home as they had used to leave.
Of course, they had a strong guard force in the area around the church, but they didn’t have enough forces to patrol the whole city. Our ambush was set up three blocks away from their perimeter.
Josh Carpenter called Trevor to report that the SUVs had crossed the river bridge from the north bay. A couple of minutes later, Shawna called us to confirm the convoy’s route.
As the first vehicle passed us doing about forty miles an hour, a two-foot-wide crack opened in the street in front of it. The SUV’s front wheels dropped into the gap, and it came to a sudden, crunching halt. The squeal of tires from the following vehicles ended with them crashing together in the middle of the street.
Steve launched a fireball into the pileup before anyone inside could unfasten their seatbelts. Although all the Knights were shielded, a personal shield had to allow air to pass through it. Thus, sitting inside a sudden inferno would have been extremely uncomfortable.
When I trained as a Hunter, we were taught to tighten our shields immediately to block air flow, and to get the hell out of a fire as quickly as we could. The lack of oxygen would kill you as dead as magic could. That worked pretty well in a training situation. Trapped inside a burning vehicle after your brains had been scrambled by an unexpected crash didn’t lend itself to calm, reasoned action.
Some of the Knights bolted out in a panicked rush. Some more managed to stumble out after them. The rest sat there stunned, and when the gas tanks exploded, they cooked. None of us involved in the ambush felt an ounce of sympathy, hardened by the often-savage nature of the magical shadow world and the barbarity the Knights had shown against their enemies.
With McGregor and me in the lead, we attacked the survivors. Our spelled Hunters’ swords sliced through the Knights’ shields. Oriel and his Fae friend had spelled daggers, and with their powers of illusion rendering themselves invisible, they wreaked havoc on individuals who separated from their fellows. Steve tossed more fireballs, and Trevor hurled lightning to add to the confusion.
None of the Knights escaped. I counted seventeen bodies whe
n the fighting was done. A couple of the bodies were shredded, and I thought of a tale I had heard about vampires attacking Fae.
We scavenged the rubies from the Knights’ swords, and then we merged back into the shadows. Everyone on our team hurried to get away from the scene, and I started running toward where Oriel had parked the car he drove that night.
I turned to look back and saw Oriel and his friend become visible, standing over one of the bodies. I slowed to wait for them, but they were taking their time. Then they both squatted, and Oriel’s friend searched the body. About the time I was ready to abandon them—I didn’t have any power of invisibility—they stood and raced in my direction. When they reached me, I turned and ran with them to Oriel’s car.
We drove to my place, and both Fae came upstairs with me. When we got inside and I recast my wards, I turned to the Fae I didn’t know and said, “Hi, I’m Erin. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
Oriel shot me a look. He knew human conventions but often seemed to forget them.
“This is Reginn,” he said.
That startled me. Surely… “The smith?” I asked. In Norse mythology, Reginn was a blacksmith versed in dark magic. I could feel Reginn’s magic and realized he was possibly the strongest mage I had ever met, Lizzy’s mother, Roisin, included.
“Yes,” Reginn answered.
“My uncle,” Oriel said.
There was a knock on the door. Since I hadn’t buzzed anyone into the building, I approached the door with caution and peered through the peephole. I didn’t recognize the woman standing there.
“It’s probably Tiana,” Oriel said. He looked through the peephole. “Yes. Can you let her in?”
Tiana was a little taller than I was and looked a lot like the woman called Elvira on late-night TV—black hair, pale complexion, blood-red lips. She gave me the once-over and managed not to sneer, but I could tell it was only through an effort to be polite. The feel of magic poured off her like the heat from an overheated radiator.
Then the three of them ignored me and started animatedly discussing our ambush that evening. It took me a few minutes, but I finally figured out what they were talking about.
“That guy was Fae?” I interjected.
“Woman,” Oriel replied absently.
“She was undercover?” I asked.
Tiana shook her head. “Nay. Not that I know of.”
“We think she was a collaborator,” Oriel said.
“I thought the Fae opposed the Knights Magica.”
Reginn gave me a condescending smile. “The Fae are individuals, and there are those who agree with the Knights that humans are cattle, created to serve. I’m sure the Knights don’t understand that they are included in our definition of human.”
“Even among the Summer Court,” Tiana said, “there are those who would like to see you and the Knights destroy each other. Many in the Winter Court would take pleasure in actively encouraging it.” She shrugged. “While I don’t have a great deal of use for humans, the world would be an immensely more boring place without you. You’re so creative and funny.”
“And destructive,” Reginn said.
I suppose I should have been offended, but I was still slightly shaken up by Reginn. If he was the smith of mythology, he had to be at least a couple of millennia old, and immensely powerful. He was also on our side. I searched my memory for the name Tiana in mythology and came up blank, but I couldn’t imagine that the adjective ‘young’ had applied to her in a very, very long time.
“So, once humans are subjugated and docile, the Fae take out the Knights and rule the world,” I said.
All three shrugged.
“More likely, they plan to finish the job by subjugating the Knights,” Tiana said. “Then, in their fever dreams, they’ll use human slave magicians as cannon fodder to win the Winter Court and launch their conquest of the Seelie.” She gave me a wink. “Political idiocy is something the Fae invented before humans crawled out of their caves.” She waved her hand in the air in a random way. “There are many things in which we can claim superiority to humans, but I daresay, our tendency to embrace stupidity is on a par with yours.”
“The woman tonight was Unseelie?”
“We all are,” Tiana said. “That doesn’t mean the Knights don’t have Seelie friends. Watch your back around us just as you would around other humans.”
Oriel put his arm on my shoulder. “I realize we can be confusing, because the Fae don’t have the concepts of good or bad, naughty or nice. You should consider us in terms of malevolence and benevolence. I once heard Roisin compare us to human children. We’re instinctual. We know what hurts and what feels good. We know anger, hunger, and pleasure, but many of your human emotions are foreign to us.”
“Like love,” I said.
“Yes, like love. But I’m half human.”
“And that makes you different?”
“Just as your Fae blood, however little, makes you different from normal humans,” Tiana said.
I blinked at her, not comprehending at first that she was speaking to me.
“I have Fae blood?”
She nodded. “Not a grandparent, but possibly as close as one or two generations earlier. Enough that you would be accepted at the Winter Court, even though you can’t cross the veil by yourself, but not enough for the Seelie to deign to recognize you.” She cocked her head to the side. “It’s your Fae blood that interferes with your ability to perform human magic. You can access the ley lines, but you can’t transform the energy.”
“I’m a ley line mage,” I blurted.
“That’s what I just said.” She turned to the others. “Well, now that we know what’s going on, what are we going to do about it? We’re a long way from Norway.”
“And we don’t have a clue as to where the Heart is,” Reginn said. “Unless we can find someone who can duplicate the Heart, we’re at a disadvantage.”
Tiana let out a deep sigh. “Unfortunately, Fuamnach’s secrets died with her. It took her more than two hundred years to create the Heart, and I’m afraid we don’t have the luxury of time.”
“So, what are we going to do?” Oriel asked. “Surely we can’t be the first to report a Fae working with the Knights.”
“Actually, you are, that I know of,” Tiana said. “I’ll check and see what I can find.”
She turned to me. “Please allow me to leave.”
I walked her to the door and dissolved the ward. She stared at my face, then nodded.
“Roisin speaks highly of you. I’ll reserve judgement, but she’s rarely wrong.” With that, she opened the door and promptly disappeared. Reginn followed her and turned the same disappearing trick.
I reset the ward and turned to Oriel. “Who is she?”
“My mother.”
The following morning, I went out to meet with the kids I was tutoring at the Academy. Both were starting to become comfortable with their magic, although Jay still tried to pull in too much magical energy while Sally tended to pull in too little. Remembering when I started my training with the Illuminati, I knew it took a couple of years before I was able to regulate my contact with the ley lines without conscious effort, and I reminded myself that patience was a virtue.
On our walk back to the Academy, I asked, “Do either of you have any Fae blood?”
Jay shook his head. “No, not that anyone ever told me.”
Sally gave me a side-eyed look and also shook her head.
But when I sent them off to lunch in the cafeteria, Sally hung back until Jay left.
“Ms. McLane? Uh, why did you ask about the Fae?”
“Just curious. I was recently told that ley line mages often have some Fae heritage.”
She was silent, staring down at her shoes, then she said, “My mom told me that her grandfather was part Fae. But it’s not something I’m supposed to talk about. I’m not sure why.”
“Is your mom a ley line mage?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. Her m
agic is very weak, and she never uses it. My dad is an aeromancer.”
I was willing to bet that her mom had scared herself as a kid and shut her magic off. It happened, especially if one of her parents was a normal human.
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks for telling me.”
She took off to eat her lunch, and I thought about the ramifications of all ley line mages having Fae descent. That would include Liam. I had met his mother, and her magic felt very weak.
Of course, the Fae had lived beside humans for thousands of years, so it would make sense that there would be a lot of interbreeding. It occupied my mind as I drove over to Rosie’s to talk to Sam. I found him in his office.
“What’s up?” he asked. “How did that operation go last night?”
I told him about the Fae woman we had killed, and how Oriel and Reginn thought she was actually working with the Knights. Sam leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.
“You told me once that your mom was part elf,” I said.
Sam chuckled. “So she used to tell me. No idea if it’s true or not. Me mam had the gift of gab, and she sometimes embellished a story.”
“Oriel’s mother dropped by last night. She said that Fae blood was what blocked me from transforming ley line energy. She said that being part Fae is what produced ley line mages. But if you have elf blood…”
“Ah, and there be the misconception. Elves are sometimes considered Fae, and they are closely related to the Seelie, just as both are related to humans, but their magic is different.” He winked at me. “And witches in Asia and witches in Europe have slightly different magic. We magic users be as diverse as humans.”
“Okay, so, what’s your take on some of the Fae helping the Knights?”
He blew out his breath. “Not a good thing. Of course, it really depends on how many of them are involved. We aren’t getting that much help from the Fae ourselves, with them sealing off their mounds.”
Knights Magica: An Urban Fantasy (Rosie O'Grady's Paranormal Bar and Grill Book 5) Page 4
