Starlight(Pact Arcanum 4)

by Arshad Ahsanuddin

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Part I: Endings and New Beginnings

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Part II: Objects in Motion

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Part III: Second Derivative Maximum

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Part IV: Points of Inflection

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Part V: Vanishing Point

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Epilogue

  Dedication

  Glossary

  The Principal Cast

  Timeline

  Post a Review!

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Works

  Copyright

  STARLIGHT

  PACT ARCANUM: BOOK FOUR

  ARSHAD AHSANUDDIN

  TEXT COPYRIGHT 2012 BY ARSHAD AHSANUDDIN

  SEE BACK MATTER FOR GLOSSARY, PRINCIPAL CAST AND TIMELINE

  PROLOGUE

  THEN: April 2043; House Diluthical Embassy, Court of Shadows Council Chamber Complex, Alexandria, Egypt

  One could always tell how comfortable Lorcan was in his surroundings by the number of books around him. His office in the Council Chamber Complex was relatively secure, so bookshelves held some of the favorites from his collection. Otherwise, the office was paneled in rich, red oak, lit by a complex Murano glass chandelier. It was relatively spare of furnishings, with only a small number of chairs, a large, mahogany desk, and a few filing cabinets.

  Lorcan was working through a priceless sheaf of parchment pages with a red fountain pen. He was a short man, with spiky, black hair and green eyes. Normally, his bearing was so smooth you could skate on it, but today he just looked harried. The documents detailed an African dispute between several Lesser Houses that threatened to erupt into open warfare. Fools. Do they think the humans would tolerate an overt conflict? Not to mention that it would expose their own soldiers to the Sentinels. The vampire hunters might not have a Wind of Earth to lead them these days, but they knew how to do their jobs. If the Court would just admit that the old ways have to change if they want to survive…

  Lorcan snorted, putting the pen down on the desk next to a glass of tepid bloodwine. He rolled his head and let his vertebrae crack, releasing tension. Might as well wish upon a rainbow for a pot of gold. They won't change unless it's forced upon them. He glanced down at the petition in his hand again, and sighed. Less than half done. Why the hell did I want this job, anyway?

  One of his senior Consuls stepped into his office. “My Lord, the Magister Daviroquir desires an audience.”

  Lorcan stood, grateful for the distraction as he put away the documents. “Send him in.”

  A few moments later, the other vampire lord entered, a heavyset, Caucasian man with an aura of deference. The vampire knelt before him. “Master, my life is yours. I am your blade to wield.”

  Lorcan smiled and walked around the desk. “I accept your honor, William, to defend as if it were my own. Rise.”

  William got to his feet. “My Lord, there is something I’d like to discuss with you.”

  Lorcan indicated one of the antique, mahogany chairs with a wave of his hand. “By all means. What’s on your mind?”

  William sat on the edge of the chair, his expression intent. “I’ve been studying the structure of your political alliances in the time since you ascended to mastery of House Diluthical.”

  Lorcan gave a short bark of laughter. He leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms in front of himself as he considered his second-in-command. “I didn’t realize I’d done anything worthy of study.”

  “You are too modest, my Lord. Even if it had not been for the fortuitous opportunity to eliminate the rest of the Fourth Council, you were well on your way to building a powerbase that might have carried you to the position of Imperator eventually.”

  Lorcan shrugged. “The goal was to elevate House Diluthical to the rank of Greater House, but the office of Huntmaster would have been out of reach without the actual might to challenge Aleksei Magister Talizered.”

  “True. Your house would not have wielded that level of strength on its own. However, your use of strategic alliances was inspired. It’s possible that you would have been able to create a coalition of houses strong enough to topple the previous Huntmaster from power.”

  “I think you give me too much credit. Aleksei was a cunning and devious leader. He managed to bring down Luscian himself by pitting him against the Redeemer.”

  William nodded vigorously. “Yes, exactly. He used subterfuge to try and eliminate the two most powerful houses in the world: House Luscian and House Jiao-long.”

  “I don’t see where you’re going with this, William,” said Lorcan with a slight frown.

  “Imperator Aleksei focused his strategies on those two houses because he recognized the threat they represented: the power of the Firstborn, and the Pact Arcanum. You’ve downplayed your ties to the Magister Jiao-long and the Magister Luscian to minimize your threat profile and allow the other Magisters to underestimate you in Council.” William smiled, showing his fangs. “Perhaps that was shortsighted.”

  Lorcan cocked his head. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Sean Magister Jiao-long is the Redeemer, and wields the power of the Pact Arcanum that he gained from the Grace. Nicholas Magister Luscian is Soulkiller’s Bane, and carries the power of the Firstborn through the strength of the Crown of Souls that he stole from Luscian. The two of them remain objects of fear and awe for precisely those reasons, even though their conventional forces are almost nonexistent. But that is only a fraction of their true power.”

  Lorcan mulled over William’s words, but still couldn’t follow his senior scion’s logic. “Explain.”

  “Although Prince Sean and Prince Nicholas have never chosen to wield them, they have inherited a wealth of allegiances and obligations from their former masters. It’s one reason few spoke out against the Magister Luscian when he reclaimed his territory from House Tervilant. He demonstrated a knowledge of Court law and protocol that allowed him to act with impunity.

  “That was Aleksei’s strength, in forcing others to bend to his will not only by force of arms, but by manipulating their honor. Jiao-long Firstborn did the same in his war with House Curallorn, when he persuaded the European Magisters to press the issue of western colonization with their daylight proxies, in order to weaken Prince Layla’s supporters in America.

  “If you were able to convince House Luscian a
nd House Jiao-long to take a more active role in the Court, with yourself as a proxy, you could draw upon those old allegiances and widen your influence significantly.”

  Lorcan scratched his chin while he considered the possibilities. “An interesting supposition. However, it would be dangerous. Such an alliance would be perceived as a serious threat by all of the other houses. There would have to be a very significant objective in mind to justify so great a risk. I can’t think of anything that would be important enough to warrant the attempt.”

  William stood and faced Lorcan. “No, my Lord,” he said. “I think you can.” Then he flexed the spell of concealment he wore, and just for a moment, the light of the Grace shone from the cross sigil branded on his forehead.

  Lorcan’s eyes widened, and he understood instantly. He reached out with his mind and forged a shallow link with William. “Do not speak of this ever again within the Council Chamber Complex. Although the Night’s Herald forswore her blood rank when she took her vows, her allegiance is still to House Talizered and the memory of Aleksei. She would like nothing better than to brand us both traitors.”

  William nodded. “The Great Work is the future of our race, my Lord. Only with our help, can the Redeemer expand his influence beyond the confines of the Armistice Zone and lead our people back to the Light. Do you think Sean and Nicholas will join us?”

  Lorcan was silent for a long moment, remembering a voice filled with music and thunder. One day, we will call upon you.

  He raised his gaze to meet William’s eyes, seeing the vivid commitment of a true believer. “Yes, William. I think they will.”

  PART I: ENDINGS AND NEW BEGINNINGS

  CHAPTER 1

  October 2082; Cathedral of the Sky, Anchorpoint City, Colorado; Thirty-nine years later

  Rory walked toward the end of the corridor, ignoring the alcoves on either side, brightly lit by floating orbs of white fire. I would rather have had candles. Somehow, it seems too bright and cheerful in here. Finally, he reached the end, and the passage widened into a small, octagonal room. He’d had to pull a few strings to get one of the coveted private alcoves, but in the end it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

  He put the bundle of fresh cut flowers and incense down on the shelf next to the door and reached for the broom, intending to begin his private ritual, and then stopped. The altar on the floor was already clean, the dried flowers and ashes from his last visit swept away. The upright wooden board with the coiled dragon kamon was free of dust and freshly polished. On the altar was a blooming white rose, encased in lacquer.

  “I hope you don’t mind.”

  Rory spun to face the other side of the alcove and the man that he had been too preoccupied to notice leaning against the wall. “Ruarc.”

  Lorcan stepped forward into the light and looked at the dragon crest. “I’m sure you would rather have done it yourself, but I wanted to honor him in my own way.”

  Rory clamped down on his temper. “Why are you here?”

  Lorcan turned to face Rory with a neutral expression. “Because Nick mentioned the accident in passing during our last summit, and he couldn’t believe that I didn’t already know.”

  Rory sighed. “There’s no reason you would have.”

  “Six months, Sean. He’s been dead for six months, and I had to hear about it from someone else. I thought we were friends.”

  Rory’s anger flared, and he clenched his fists to keep his claws sheathed. “We’re not friends, Imperator. I don’t have to keep you apprised of the events of my life.”

  Lorcan said nothing; he just turned to face the altar and the wooden board with Takeshi’s family seal. “I know they’re keeping the names of the dead quiet, but I’m surprised that the fact that he was on board never came up in any of the news coverage.”

  Rory’s anger burned out, leaving only the ashes of emotion. Nothing aroused his passions for long these days. In the end, what does it really matter? “I asked Nick to erase his name from the passenger manifest before Armistice Security turned the records over to the press. The funeral was private, attended only by our trusted friends. No one talked about the timing.”

  Lorcan’s jaw clenched. Just for a moment his shields slipped, and Rory could read his emotions.

  Grief. Pain. Humiliation.

  Lorcan turned to go. “I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

  Rory grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

  Lorcan jerked his arm free. His anger was plain to see now. “Why? Are you going to tell me my invitation got lost in the mail? You made yourself perfectly clear. We’re not friends, just allies.”

  “Ruarc, try to understand.” Rory reached out and brushed his fingertips against Lorcan’s cheek. “The Huntmaster of the Court of Shadows attending the funeral of a Wind of Earth? Your people would line up to challenge you for the affront to their honor.”

  Lorcan snorted. “Right. You excluded me for my own protection. I’m supposed to believe that?”

  “I lied earlier. You are a friend, and a good one. You would have come if I needed you. I couldn’t let them kill you for my sake, not after…”

  Lorcan frowned at him. “After what?”

  Rory took a deep breath and let it out. “Not after Take died because of me.”

  Lorcan took a step back, surprised. “What are you talking about? The gravity drive malfunctioned, and the Orion hit the lunar surface at two hundred meters per second. How is that your fault?”

  Rory didn’t meet his gaze. “The trip was my idea. Sentinel genes make for relatively long lifetimes. It was only the war that makes them die young. He was fit and healthy, so we traveled around the Outer Colonies for almost a year, just to say we did it. We were finally on our way home when the ship crashed.”

  Lorcan stared at him. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

  Rory shrugged. “I am the Redeemer. There’s almost nothing in the world that can actually kill me. So, I walked away when no one else did.”

  “Christ, Sean.” Lorcan seemed truly at a loss for something to say. “You actually rode the ship into the ground?”

  “I held his hand right up to the end.” Rory turned back to the shelf and picked up his bundle of flowers and incense. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to finish my visit.”

  Lorcan nodded. “Of course. I’ll leave you alone.”

  He’ll leave. Isn’t that what I wanted? “No, you can stay.”

  Lorcan looked doubtful. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” Rory placed the flowers in the vases on either side of the altar. He lit the incense sticks and placed them in the holders. He left Lorcan’s white rose where it was. Then Rory knelt on the floor and said a prayer from his youth. Finally, his ritual complete, he gazed at Takeshi’s marker, and emptied his mind. Love, I hope you’re in a better place. Someday, I’ll find my way to join you.

  * * *

  Lorcan watched in silence while Rory meditated. He was immortal. He could wait. In the meantime, he studied his old friend, seeing the tension in his shoulders and the lines on his face that grief had put there. Rory looked old, tired in body and spirit, for all that he remained the same physical age as he had been for over sixty years. Nicholas, how could you let him face this alone? But then, Rory had always been private, and Nick would have seen the tragedy as a reminder of his own lover’s mortality.

  I should have been here. It would have been politically disastrous, he knew. Rory was right about that, but he would have come anyway.

  * * *

  After the incense had burned out, Rory opened his eyes and got back to his feet. “I’m sorry I was so defensive when I first saw you. Nick arranged to have this part of the tunnels cleared of visitors when I come down here each month.”

  “I know. I persuaded him to let me through the cordon, so we could speak privately.”

  Rory looked at him in confusion. “Why didn’t you just come by the house?”

  “Because you don’t let anyone past the perimeter wards anymore. Nick said you’ve
been holed up behind your defenses this whole time, and your AI is screening your calls. I thought you’d turn me away.”

  Rory stood frozen by the revelation. Is that true? Granted, I didn’t want any visitors, but Nick had come by several times and … and come to think of it, I talked to him at the door every time and didn’t invite him in. Damn, when did I become a hermit? He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Well, you’re here now. It’s been what, almost two years? Let’s go for a walk in the gardens, and you can tell me what you’ve been up to.”

  * * *

  The meditation gardens were softly lit by lanterns carrying mystical white flames. They wandered for a while and talked about Nightwalker politics and the demands of Lorcan’s position. Rory listened through most of it, and gave Lorcan little insight into his personal life. Then they came to the clear lawn surrounding the fifth obelisk, one of sixteen spires of lunar basalt that surrounded the cathedral, and Rory paused as he noticed the numbered plaque at the base. He walked away from Lorcan to the base of the monument and stared at the deeply engraved stone surface, lost in thought.

  Lorcan stood at his side and read the memorial plaque: We were trapped in the city, waiting for death. To the one that saved us, we are grateful. So long as we live, you will never be forgotten. Above the plaque, line upon line of names was chiseled into the stone in Roman capitals, each followed by the symbol of that person’s race. The text ran up the surface of the monument as high as Lorcan could see.

  Rory tapped the surface of the plaque with his fingers. The plaque lit up, and a large glowing square appeared above it on the engraved surface of the stone. The writing on the plaque faded away, replaced by a view of the text within the square.

  “Line 497, third and fourth names,” he said.

  The square rose up along the surface of the marker until it came to rest about fifty meters above the ground. The text visible on the plaque showed two names in the center: Takeshi Nakamura Leshir Jiao-long and Sean Rory Brennigan Magister Jiao-long.

  “He wouldn’t leave,” whispered Rory, almost to himself. “We argued as the missile approached, and I demanded that he survive. I knew I would probably live through the blast, but I couldn’t stand the thought of living without him. He was so stubborn. If the rest of his people couldn’t escape the fire, then he wouldn’t abandon them.”