The Veil: Corruption (HASEA CHRONICLES BOOK 2)

by Stuart Meczes

  “It is very nice to meet you in person, Alexander,” said Faru, extending one of his frail hands, which had been reduced to no more than bones wrapped in parchment.

  He doesn’t know me. Unhappiness rose inside me like running water in an abandoned bath. Faru had always been there for me. He had been the voice of reason and the helping hand. He was a friend. And now he has no idea who I am. I put my trembling hand to his and shook with as much energy as I could. “Nice to meet you too, sir,” I croaked.

  The Sage settled into the seat opposite and regarded me with his white eyes. He waved a hand about him. “Please forgive the unnecessarily grandiose setting of our meeting. I wanted to be away from any prying ears and unfortunately humans are not permitted in a Sage’s quarters.” He clasped his hands together. “So, Michael informed me that you had something very urgent to discuss with me. Please share your concerns.”

  I told him everything I knew from the scraps of memories I had left. The Sage listened to my story with his fingers steepled together, nodding at each burst of new information. When I was done, I sank into silence, exhausted. Chancing a glance up at Gabriella, she looked both confused and unnerved. Mikey placed what was probably supposed to be a comforting hand on my shoulder, but it came across as a little condescending. There was a long pause, and then Faru spoke.

  “Intriguing.”

  “What do you make of it all, Sage Faru?” asked Gabriella.

  “Well, Alexander certainly seems to know a great deal about the workings of this world, and his story is a very convincing. But from a personal standpoint, I have no such recollection of any of the events he describes occurring in the way he mentioned them.”

  I could feel myself slipping even deeper into desperate misery. “But they did happen,” I insisted.

  “I have no doubt they did.” He paused. “In your mind.”

  Is he suggesting I’m crazy? No, I’m not crazy. I remember these things. They happened. Didn’t they?

  “You say you are suffering from physical symptoms also? And you believe they may be supernatural in origin. Perhaps the beginning of an Awakening?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “There is only one way to be certain. I must perform what is known as a mind merge with you. What this entails is—”

  “I know what it entails, I’ve had one before,” I snapped. Mikey squeezed my shoulder hard. “Sorry. I mean in my mind, I remember the experience.”

  Sage Faru gave a slow nod. “Very well, then I think that we should do this quickly. That way we can gather facts instead of speculations.” He looked at Mikey. “Please bring your brother closer.”

  Mikey wrapped his hands around the back of the chair and slid it forward a few feet. The ornate wooden legs made a high-pitched whine that pierced my ears as they scraped along the golden tiles. I braced myself as the Sage lifted his hands to my temples.

  “I shall be as quick as I can. Please try to relax.”

  A searing bolt of electricity ran from my head down through my body, rooting me to the spot. I grimaced as the painful waves racked through me, sending it into a fit of convulsions. Everything went dark.

  Time dissolved away, and when I came back to my senses, I had no clue how long I had been out. Faru was breathing heavily, flexing his fingers as if to ease out cramps. Then he pressed them back together and gave a slow nod.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” I said, blinking away the yellow spots that had appeared in my already poor vision.

  Faru glanced away from us, as if looking for something at the side of the room. For a split second his white eyes seemed to flicker black, but it was so sudden I couldn’t tell if I had imagined it. When he turned back, his face was as serene as a Buddha statue.

  “I did. Alexander, I’m afraid you are not undergoing an Awakening as you suspected. It appears that you actually are under the influence of witchcraft.”

  “Witchcraft?” said Gabriella and Mikey in unison.

  “Indeed. I have witnessed everything that you believe to have lived. Experienced every detail that you did, and I can now empathise with just how difficult and confusing this must all be for you. But I am deeply sorry to inform you that these memories you hold have been implanted into your mind through supernatural means. In short, they are not real.”

  I felt sinking despair drawing me deeper into its mire, and I had to fight to hold back tears. None of it was real. I was never special.

  “But why would someone do that?” asked Mikey, wearing an incredulous expression. “What would they gain from?”

  Faru shook his head. “I simply do not know. The machinations of the SOS are vague to us. It could be as an attack against you, Michael, to distract you from your duties whilst you dealt with the situation. It could be countless other reasons. All I can say for certain is that these memories are like a fabric woven unnaturally into Alexander’s memory, which is why they are filled with holes – they are trying to cover over the truth of his real life. This one.”

  “How would they be able to do that? I would know if a Witch had been at our house,” Mikey countered.

  “They need not have come close to him. All they needed was something that had once belonged to him. An article of clothing he wore, a book he read, a pen he used to write. Even the wrappings from food he ate. Such things could easily have acquired without anyone’s knowledge. Maintaining such a spell is a tremendous drain on a Witches’ time and energy, so it is very uncommon. But it does happen, as is the case here.”

  It was Gabriella’s turn to speak. She stepped forward so she was standing at the side of Sage Faru and me. “But he knows things that we didn’t. Like about Lafelei being on this side of the Veil.”

  Faru shook his head. “Falsehoods, my dear girl. I can assure you that the Elemental does not reside here. As a Sage, I would be privy to that kind of information. The Elementals have not been seen on Earth in aeons. Whoever this malevolent spellcaster is, they have twisted truth and created lies to fill Alexander’s head with confusion and doubt.” He turned to face me again. “I’m afraid this is the only thing that is remarkable about you.”

  ‘B-but what about my physical symptoms? How do you explain that?” I said, trying and failing to keep the desperation from my voice.

  Faru shifted in his seat and gestured a hand towards me. “It would be preferable to speak with you alone at this point, Alexander.”

  I glanced around at Mikey and Gabriella, who were wearing matching expressions of concern. I lowered my gaze. It can’t get much worse than this anyway.

  “No. If you have to say something to me, they can hear it too.”

  “Very well. I gives me great displeasure to bring this to your attention, Alexander, although it is no doubt something you are somewhat aware of. Whilst in your mind I was able to see that you are suffering from intense psychological stress. No doubt fortified by the brute punishment that these unnatural memories have imposed by being forced into your mind, but not the cause. Much of it appears to stem from your real father’s absence and your conflicting relationship with your stepfather as well as your difficulty in connecting with others on a social level.”

  His words felt like they were ripping me apart from the inside. Each one was a daggered claw, tearing at my guts and leaving me exposed and defenceless. I shrank back into the chair. The Sage continued the onslaught.

  “These feelings of rejection and inferiority greatly increased when your brother Michael discovered his calling as a Chosen. You appear to be harbouring deep jealousy and resentment, even though you have supported your brother throughout his transition into his new role, which I commend you for. You are also envious about his connection to Gabriella, for whom you hold romantic and sexual feelings.”

  “Okay, maybe that’s enough—” Gabriella said, but the Sage lifted a hand and she fell silent.

  “As I said, I wished to speak with the boy alone, but it was his decision to have you both present.” He turned back to me and I l
owered my gaze to my fingers, which I was wringing together. “After inspecting your mind, I’m afraid I can draw only one conclusion.” He clasped his hands together. “You are suffering from severe depression.”

  I wanted the ground to open up and suck me into oblivion. Faru had opened my wounds and poured salt on them, followed by hydrochloric acid and liquid fire. Misery, shame, and embarrassment curled into a ball of anguish that sat like a rock in my stomach. I could feel the hot skin of my neck and my pulse hammering away in my ears.

  “So you’re saying that there is nothing wrong with him? That depression is causing his symptoms?” asked Mikey.

  “I am, yes. You must understand that the mind holds the greatest dominion over a person. For Alexander, I have no doubt what he is experiencing feels as real to him as a broken arm. But he is not sick. Not physically anyway.” He gave a wan smile.

  “Of course there is still the troubling matter of the witchcraft to content with. I shall begin investigations immediately – the knowledge this heinous individual possesses is concerning – it suggests they are perhaps one of our own. In the meantime, I can have the Coven create something that should help Alexander’s physical symptoms until he is able to rectify the underlining issues.”

  “Thank you, sir, we’ll take him to Moon’s Edge now,” said Mikey, helping me to stand up. “And what should we do about the false memories?”

  “I can have Selene conduct a reversal spell – but that will take some time. Or...” he gestured towards Gabriella, “a person gifted with Charm could easily guide his mind back into a state of normality. The choice lies with you three.”

  *

  The journey back home was a silent one. I was lost deep inside myself, trying to put together pieces that no longer fit. Faru’s blunt words had left me reeling. He was so different to how I remembered him, his kindness and warmth replaced by a cold sternness that had pulled the rug from under my feet. I’d gotten the answers I needed, but not the ones I wanted. The truth – delivered with the force of a gut punch – was that I was not special. You’re the same loser who no one gives two shits about. The one people just wish would get out of their lives.

  The steaming concoction I’d been made to drink in the Coven had tasted like cold tea with heaps of salt, but it had certainly taken the edge off my symptoms. I could see properly again, and my skin had stopped sweating. Although I was still sporting a pretty mean headache, it no longer felt like my brain was going to implode.

  But as much as it had helped physically, it had done nothing to curb the aching realisation that everything I remembered about my time as a Chosen was wrong. That I was just plain old Alexander Eden – social pariah with a dead dad, good with work but bad with people, and utterly unremarkable in any conceivable way.

  I glanced over at Gabriella, who was absently scrolling through her Biomote. And soon I won’t even have the fake memories that I used to be something better.

  *

  The evening was a slow one, full of memories that seemed more active now, as if some part of me wanted to hold onto them. But they only served as bitter reminders of what I was going to lose.Gabriella had agreed to give me time to prepare myself to forget. She and Mikey hid under a veil of normalcy in the lounge, watching television with John and Mum, who had returned a few hours later – one with the healthy glow of exercise, the other with the drunken stagger and slurred words of a pint too many.

  Needing some fresh air to clear my thoughts, I decided to go outside. As I undressed, my skinny, anaemic reflection caught my eye in the mirror and I vowed that once this was all over, I was going to do something about it. Pulling off my undershirt, I noticed a welt on my collarbone. It was the size of a two pence piece, red in the centre and fading to a bruised yellow at the edges. Pressing a finger to it, I grit my teeth as a buzz of pain swept along the bone.

  I frowned as I slipped a jumper over my head. I don’t remember injuring myself. I blew out air between my teeth. What does it matter anyway? Probably just another symptom of your craziness, Alex.

  I shrugged on a waterproof coat over the jumper. Turning away from the mirror, I was alarmed to see the butt of the gun I’d taken from Mikey’s room poking out from under my mattress. I rushed over and went to tuck it under further, but another part of me – one that frightened me – compelled me to pull it out.

  I stared at the weapon. It was sleek black with a rubberised grip and a long barrel. Forged from materials harvested from all over Pandemonia, it was sturdier, more efficient, and more accurate than ninety percent of the weapons the military could produce.

  I clicked open the clip release – which was much tougher than it ever had been in my memory – and checked the contents. Inside were fifteen cocktail rounds. Woodchips mixed with a blend of silver and iron filings, packed tightly into transparent casings, and stacked neatly one on top of another. They were stun rounds. Each one enough to knock a Pandemonian out cold and allow the Guardian time to subdue them. But for a regular person at close range… I pushed the clip back into place.

  Fatal.

  37

  Alex

  I watched as the rain bounced off the waterproof sleeves of my jacket and heard the drops tap on my hood, the sound like a thousand water beads hitting canvas. The garden around me was overgrown as it always was. But now it had been subjected to invasion by thick black weeds that resembled overgrown veins. They twisted their way around plants and bushes like cancerous fingers, choking the life out of them.

  Sitting in my garden, under the helm of a growing thunderstorm, I held the gun in slicked hands, turning it over and over, feeling the rubber grip as it slid beneath my fingers.

  Gabriella wasn’t going to remove only my memories of my time as a Chosen; she was going to remove all of it. My knowledge of Pandemonia, of the Alliance – everything. That had been Sage Faru’s parting advice. As far as I would be concerned, monsters were for storybooks, heroes didn’t exist, and mythology was just that – myth. I would become one of the blissfully unaware.

  I let out a sigh so long and heavy, I felt deflated afterwards. The truth was that I didn’t want to forget. Even if they were just fake thoughts, forced into my head by some demented member of the SOS, each memory was a treasure to me. They were a reminder that I had been part of something bigger, better, and braver than myself, and to lose all that was to lose the person I had become. I toyed a thumb against the safety switch. Better to be nothing at all than to be nobody.

  Thunder cracked from nearby, the sound loud enough to make me tense up. The sky was turning a deep black, and every now and then a streak of lightning would jerk through the clouds, flaring them up in a score of white roots. It felt like the final act – the bookend to a part of my life that was drawing to a close.

  I sank my forehead down to my raised knees, focusing my vision to stare first at the gun and then to the rain-slicked grass beyond. I just wish there was another option. That I didn’t have to go back to nothing. A tear rolled down my cheek and splashed onto my hand, mixing with the beads of rain on my skin. I wish I was worthy of being a Chosen – for real. Maybe then I wouldn’t need to forget.

  I thought of Gabriella and another deep sigh rolled through me. It would be hard…so hard, but I think in time, I think…maybe I could accept things.

  No. This is pointless.

  I was dreaming on things that would never happen. It was better just to forget, to move on. My grip tightened on the gun. Or…

  Another crack of thunder boomed overhead, but this time it was mixed with another sound. I jerked upright, my ears straining to listen. It happened again, and this time I jumped to my feet.

  It was a scream.

  The sound had come from inside the house. A few seconds later I saw a flash of red on the rooftop – the tail of a rain-soaked robe flicking upwards as its owner moved, like a streak of blood on canvas. I crouched down in the tall grass, watching as the cloaked figure clambered down the wall like a lizard and wrenched open my window befor
e slipping inside.

  SOS.

  My heart pounded against my ribcage. I glanced up again and through the lounge window, I saw Mikey careering into the wall. An Oni stormed towards him and as the two tussled, another shriek burst from within the walls of the house. A split second later I was subjected to the image of Mum being dragged to her feet by her hair, which was tangled in the grip of a female Imp.

  My home is being attacked.

  The notion didn’t fill me with fear. Adrenaline…but not fear. My memories of being a Chosen meant that I reacted the only way I knew how – quickly. Without thinking, I crouched and ran towards the shed at the back of the garden and pulled open the warped wooden door. The smell inside was one of damp and mould. Among the rusted bikes and boxes of junk were the remains of DIY projects started and abandoned by John. His latest work – an oak bookshelf – lay in pieces on a trestle table, surrounded by a dozen tools and heaps of sawdust.

  I ran to the table and used the edge of the gun to scoop the wood shavings into my hands. They were slightly damp, but it didn’t matter, they would still do the trick. I stuffed handfuls into my pockets until they were packed and then cleaned the gun barrel on my trousers.

  Running back across the rain-soaked garden – which had become an obstacle course of slick grass and slicker mud – I was careful to keep low and out of sight. I reached the wall and pressed my back against it, panting. Better, but not fit by any stretch of the imagination. I glanced up at the open window. One of the curtains was billowing through the gap as if it were trying desperately to escape.

  I knew that going in downstairs would be suicide. My only chance was to enter upstairs somehow and get to Mikey’s equipment in his room. The problem is how? I wasn’t a Chosen. I couldn’t scale tall walls with a single leap. Stepping back, I scanned the surface of the house, stopping on a drainpipe three or so feet from my window. I felt my stomach tighten.