London Underground: An Unofficial Legend of The Secret World (Unofficial Legends of The Secret World Book 2)

by Blodwedd Mallory

We needed to be able to take the center and hold it long enough to get a significant lead. What we needed, I realized, was a healer for the healer. If I could get a healing spell off when HolloPoint couldn’t and vice versa, together we could keep the rest of the group alive. Sevenoir and Zamira did enough damage that with some focused firing, they could take out the various Dragon damage dealers. The Illuminati didn’t seem to be going for a match score at all, so really, short of not letting them kill our team, there wasn’t much to strategize on. Having two healers would go a long way to keep them from being able to do that.

  “What if I healed too?”

  “What?” HolloPoint turned from where he was standing at the gate to look at me.

  I grabbed my blood focus and thought about the spells I would need. This was definitely a change from damage, but if I could keep a blood shield on HolloPoint, it would probably work. Plus, then I wouldn’t have to worry about killing other people.

  “I’m going to heal too so I can help keep you alive,” I said. “Because they keep locking you down…?”

  I couldn’t see his face behind the white mask, but he shrugged. “Right-o. Suit yourself.”

  I cut my finger with the end of my athame and tossed it back in my backpack, then began to cast a mend spell on HolloPoint. A golden shield of anima popped up around him, and he gave me a thumbs up. The gates fell, and we ran back to the field. I stayed low and behind the stones, moving continually as I kept him targeted.

  When one of the snipers took a shot at him, I cast a sanctuary spell, stopping some of the incoming damage and quickly healing him back to full health. I was starting to feel exhilarated. HolloPoint fired off a huge healing spell that brought our entire team back to full health.

  “The Templars are dominating the center!”

  This was working! I was filled with elation and stopped moving long enough to get winged by a stray bullet. It stung lightly, but I paid it no mind, casting a mend spell on myself and then turned back to put a blood shield on HolloPoint.

  I could see Drenneth block a hammer attack from the female Dragon tank, then turn and knock the male tank in the helmet with the end of his blade. I topped off his health with a convalesce spell. Zamira moved in a circle as she fired off a round of bullets from her pistols with such grace it looked like she was dancing. I jumped up and down at her, and clapped my hands in delight and cast a big golden blood shield around her.

  Yay! This was fun!

  “What in the bloody hell?” Sevenoir yelled at me across the center. “What’s wrong with you? Stop doing that!”

  What was he going on about? I looked down as I clapped my glowing hands and then across the glowing field at the nimbus of gold that surrounded him.

  Hmm…That was an awful lot of glowing for a fight on a dark night. Looked like I needed to check in with my emotions. With all these healing spells, I was in danger of magical blood martyrdom. If I wasn’t careful, I would bring on my own anima exhaustion. I cast a runic hex at a Dragon damage dealer who was hiding near a swath of rocks, and she yelled as it hit her. The inherent corruption of that spell brought my blood martyrdom down to manageable levels and took the golden sheen off of the scene for me.

  Yeesh. I was definitely more practiced at dealing with too much blood magic corruption, but martyrdom was equally dangerous, it seemed, because you simply stopped caring about your own safety.

  A woman in an Illuminati uniform ran forward into the center of the circle and laid down a swath of frost on the ground. She then cast fireballs and fire bolts at the group in the center.

  Time stopped. Deja vu.

  Something about her seemed so familiar to me. Was this another trick of the martyrdom?

  I shook my head and threw a hex at her before I began casting mend spells again. They were small enough that they did not pose a huge problem controlling the martyrdom. HolloPoint had everyone in good shape health-wise. Drenneth was beating back the tanks, and Sevenoir and Zamira had the damage dealers locked down.

  The rest of the Illuminati team rushed the center, and for a few minutes there were fully fifteen of us scrimmaging against one another, bullets flying, hammers pounding, swords slashing. It was crazy and glorious. I kept an eye on my teammates, casting a nearly constant string of healing spells, but remembering to occasionally pepper my opponents with hexes to keep the martyrdom manageable.

  Then suddenly, it was over.

  The announcer’s voice rang out. “Game ended. The Templars are the Summer Solstice Match winning faction with 592 points. Dragon in second place with 577 points. Illuminati in third with 186 points.”

  There were cheers from my team and groans from the combatants in the circle.

  And with that, I felt a whoosh around me and found myself back with my team at the anima well, the gates to the playing field shut. We grabbed our things and chattering happily among ourselves, ported back to Ealdwic Park and headed to The Horned God to celebrate our win.

  June 21, 2012

  Bang, bang, bang!

  Dragging myself from sleep, I sat up in bed at the noise. Knocking. Someone was knocking at my door.

  My head pounded in response. Our celebration had been lively and the drinks copious. I had stumbled back to my flat around 3 a.m. I opened an eye and looked around the room. Judging by the lack of light coming in the windows, I hadn’t been sleeping long.

  Bang, bang, bang!

  Again with the knocking! What was with these people?

  I reached for my robe and shuffled across my bedroom out to the living area.

  “Yes?” I croaked at the locked door.

  “Message for Blodwedd Mallory from Richard Sonnac,” an all-business male voice boomed from behind the closed door.

  I opened the door, leaning my head against the frame, and looked up at him with bleary eyes. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

  The tall, dark-haired, uniformed Templar cracked a smile and handed me a sealed letter. I took it and watched as he pivoted on his heel and headed down the stairs of my building.

  I sat there a second, blinking, and cursing the fun from the night before. I flipped on the overhead light and broke the seal on the envelope.

  Ms. Blodwedd Mallory

  No. 5-F May Queen Market

  London, England UK

  Mr. Richard Sonnac

  Temple Hall

  London, England UK

  June 21, 2012

  Dear Ms. Mallory,

  Your presence is requested at Temple Hall at 7 a.m. sharp on Thursday, June 21, 2012.

  I don’t think I need to tell you again that timeliness and business attire are apropos. Bring the uniform.

  Regards,

  R. Sonnac

  At this rate, Richard Sonnac needed to get these little summonses for me pre-printed. I scooted my back down the wall and sat on the floor. Bring the uniform? Ugh. I was apparently in trouble again, this time for my participation in last night’s battle.

  I held my head in my hands. Where was my backpack and was the uniform in it? I struggled to remember the evening.

  Looking around my living area, I spotted the backpack sitting on the floor by the couch. I grabbed it and unzipped the bag, relieved to find the uniform within. At least I could comply with that portion of the request.

  I knew from my experience last Sunday that 7 a.m. was probably about an hour and a half after sunrise, so I stumbled into the kitchen and put on a kettle for tea and headed to the bathroom to shower.

  Freshly showered, I felt better and went to my room to get dressed. I dug through my wardrobe for something that passed for business attire. Settling on some black trousers and my white button-down blouse, I pulled my damp hair back into a bun and put the Templar cross necklace my mother gave me around my neck. I found my black low-heeled pumps under my bed and slipped them on.

  The kettle started to whistle from the kitchen, so I unplugged it and made myself some breakfast tea and grabbed some digestive crackers and yogurt from the fridge. A li
ttle tea and some food in my stomach went a long way toward helping me feel human as well.

  Right. No use putting it off any longer. I grabbed my backpack and emptied out everything but the uniform, my weapons, and my wallet, and slipped it on my back. I locked my apartment door and headed down the stairs to the street.

  Outside, the morning light was just starting to fill the street. I stepped out on the sidewalk as Plimmy was retrieving her morning paper.

  “Oh, hello dear. You’re up early,” she said to me as I approached.

  “Yes, unfortunately,” I answered her with a wry grin. “Another early morning meeting.”

  “Did you have fun last night with your friends at Stonehenge?”

  It took me just a moment to track back to the fact that Zamira and I had been discussing the visit to Stonehenge in front of Plimmy before I knew it was part of the Secret War.

  “Um yes. It was very…different than I expected but exciting and fun.”

  “Oh, good. I’m glad you’re meeting some more people your age,” she said, kindly. “As much as I enjoy your company over tea, you need opportunities to socialize since you’re new to Ealdwic.”

  “I think I did a little too much socializing,” I agreed with a sorry laugh. “It’s made this morning feel even earlier.”

  She chuckled knowingly with me at that. I waved goodbye and headed up May Queen Market toward the Underground station. It was too early for there to be much of a crowd listening to the Fallen King, but there were still a few paying attention to his dire predictions and rumblings.

  I made my way past the now familiar landmarks, Pangaea, Bartleby & Daughters, Redcrosse Circus, until I came to Temple Court. I greeted the guards and made my way to the bottom of the stairs at the hall proper to await Richard Sonnac’s leisure.

  I passed the time contemplating what I was being called to account for this time. Yes, it was true I had participated in the Secret War, but I had no reason to believe that I had been prohibited from doing so. It was extracurricular, to be sure, but, based on what Konrad Engel and Zamira had said, sanctioned action by the Templars. Even the Council of Venice was in on it.

  The longer I stood there waiting, the more irritated I became. I hadn’t done anything wrong. We’d won, for pity’s sake! I had comported myself as well as I could, given my lack of experience, and had played my part with the team. Sure, I didn’t score as many individual points as the others, but I’d tried to do what needed to be done for the team.

  “Blodwedd Mallory?”

  I heard a female guard dressed in a pristine uniform calling for my attention from the entrance. I nodded my head in acknowledgment and followed her up the stairs into Temple Hall. She led me through the hall to the now-familiar set of doors on the right side of the room. She stopped in front and knocked.

  Once again the doors opened, and I was ushered inside into the tribunal room, as I’d come to think of it. I had no idea if that was actually what it was called, but it certainly seemed to be its purpose, based on my acquaintance with it.

  I walked on the thick red carpet up to the anterior of the room in front of the bench. As he’d been before, Richard Sonnac was there at a table to the left. He gestured for me to sit. The same panel was gathered behind the bench, Dame Julia, the dark-haired, middle-aged woman, and the silver-haired man. I felt a little sick to my stomach.

  “Richard, please start these proceedings,” Dame Julia gestured from her seat in the middle.

  He coughed lightly into his hand and stood to face me and the bench, his face grave.

  “Ms. Mallory, we have some critical news to share with you, which may have dire implications to your continued pursuit of initiation with the Templars.”

  I took a deep breath at his words, my heart dropping to my feet.

  No, no, no, no, no…They were kicking me out!

  I bit my lip to keep from crying out as he continued.

  “At approximately 10 p.m. last night we lost contact with your mother, Elizabeth Mallory, on her current assignment. We believe this to be disturbing news as she is utterly dependable and consistent in her communication with Temple Hall. At this point, we don’t know where she is or her current condition.”

  I looked at him blankly, and my ears began to ring. The room started to distort slightly in a peculiar fashion.

  My mother was missing? I felt a gaping abyss open up beneath me, threatening to swallow me whole.

  “To complicate this matter,” he continued, with a look of empathy for me on his face, “there is evidence of a mass spike in Gaia-touched individuals who are swallowing bees around the globe. These individuals need to be identified, contacted, and brought to Temple Hall to be trained, lest they be lured away to other factions…or worse. We believe this surge is directly related to the attack in Tokyo.”

  I choked back tears and looked at the faces of the panel members, who all wore masks of grave concern.

  “I know it is your wish to become a Templar. Right now,” Sonnac said, “we quite simply don’t have the resources to provide you the one-on-one training to ensure your safety in the field.”

  Grumbling erupted behind me, and I whirled to find Brigadier Lethe in a seat at the back of the room with a scowl on his face. Richard Sonnac held up his hand for silence and continued.

  “You are a young recruit. Some have maintained that you are too young.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of Dame Julia. “Too untested. Too likely to be drawn off on side, ahem, adventures.”

  He cleared his throat again. “And so, it has been proposed that you return to Innsmouth Academy where you can remain under the care of Annabel Usher until things settle down.”

  No!

  I jumped to my feet and opened my mouth to protest.

  At the same time, one of the heavy wooden doors swung open and slammed back against its casing. I whirled around and was astonished to see Sevenoir in his full uniform, conspicuously minus the bunny ears, marching up the carpet, escorting Plimmy on his left arm.

  “Julia!” Plimmy shouted, her straw hat bouncing on her head as she scurried to keep up. “What kind of kangaroo court is this?! Why are you so determined to undermine this girl?”

  “Plimmy,” Dame Julia scowled. “Why are you here? This is none of your business.”

  “Of course it’s my business.” Plimmy retorted with a sniff as she swept off her hat. “Wedd is my tenant. I see her and pay attention. I talk to her. I’ve talked to her colleagues. She’s a smart, talented candidate and I, for one, don’t believe we can afford to lose her because she’s thwarting your desire for control.”

  Dame Julia threw her hands up in the air at that and then crossed them over her chest as she fumed.

  Wait, what?

  My head was spinning with all the revelations, and I was having trouble tracking the details. Plimmy just said, “We can’t afford to lose her.” Plimmy was a Templar? And Sevenoir escorting her? What was that about? Plimmy had implied over tea at The Horned God that she didn’t know who he was. Apparently, that was not the case. How did the two of them even know to be here?

  I looked up at Richard Sonnac, who had a slight smile on his face. Even Brigadier Lethe was standing up now, approaching the bench. And my mother? Where was my mother? I felt like a basket case with all the emotions coursing through my body.

  The courtroom was in an uproar as well. The middle-aged dark haired woman grabbed Dame Julia’s gavel and slammed it down hard on the bench.

  “One at a time, please!” she said in a commanding voice. “Let’s have some order here.”

  Plimmy and Sevenoir moved to sit beside me at the left table, and Brigadier Lethe joined them, leaning his hip on the corner to take the weight off his bad knee. As I glanced to my left, I could see that the two mysterious figures were once again stationed against the wall there as well, the man in the brown suit with the white mask, and his companion in full combat armor.

  I was speechless. This was a lot of ruckus for just me. Maybe whoever had s
uggested I be remanded back to Innsmouth Academy—Dame Julia, I was almost certain—had a point. I rubbed the scar on my right palm. I had made my fair share of trouble in the past week. Had it only been a week? It felt like a lifetime of difference from Solomon Island already.

  “Richard, if you please. Review the facts for us in order, so this committee has some hope of making sense of the situation,” The dark-haired woman nodded and returned the gavel to its place in front of Dame Julia, and folded her hands across the bench in front of her.

  “Of course, Chancellor.” Sonnac stepped forward from the table, positioning himself to face all of the attendees. “The proposal to return Ms. Mallory to Innsmouth Academy was intended to be a stop-gap measure, I believe, until we had sufficient resources to focus on her training again.”

  “That’s a load of malarkey,” Brigadier Lethe spat. “Wedd has more field experience than most of our new recruits. She has a lot to learn, of course, but she’s been tested in combat several times now.”

  The Chancellor gave Lethe a look. “If you please, George, let Richard continue. Your support is noted.”

  Lethe nodded and folded his arms across his chest with satisfaction.

  “There is the matter of her unauthorized participation in the Secret War scrimmage at Stonehenge last night,” Sonnac continued.

  The gray-haired man’s eyebrows shot up at that, and he sat forward in his seat. “Did we win?”

  Dame Julia looked over at her colleague and narrowed her eyes.

  “That wasn’t Wedd’s fault,” Sevenoir admitted. “Several of us dragged her along. She thought we were taking her to a druid ritual.” Plimmy and the dark-haired Chancellor chuckled at that. “And yes, we won. We beat the Dragon by a solid 15 points. The Illuminati were barely on the board.”

  “She was probably safer at the scrimmage than she would have been at one of those pagan shindigs,” Lethe muttered under his breath. “The mead at those things is like to kill you.”