"Yes. Let's," I say.
Thaddeus walks back behind his desk and sits down in his chair. The chair has a high back and is well padded. Behind his chair, on the western wall, is a bar with glass shelves displaying bottles of liquor. There are two doors on the west wall flanking the bar; one door on the left, and another on the right. The room itself is rectangular; forty feet wide and sixty feet long. The short walls are at the north and south. These are the walls with balconies twenty feet up. The balcony on the north side, to our right, is mirrored by another stone balcony to our left on the south wall. Soft, orange, firelight is coming from braziers at the four corners of the room, suffusing the office with an anachronistic, dim glow. Forty feet above is a coffered ceiling, with friezes and portraits in the panels. The panel in the center of the ceiling is all black. Thaddeus' desk is right under that black panel, in the precise center of the room, while everything is in perfect symmetry around it.
I smile at Lev and pat him on the back before walking with him to the two chairs in front of Thaddeus' desk. Lev sits down, and I follow.
"So what can I do for you, Mr. Mara?" Thaddeus asks.
"I am here to talk about business," I say.
"Oh. What kind of business do you want to talk about?"
"Your business," I say, "for a start."
"Excuse me?" Thaddeus asks.
"Well, I couldn't help but notice it's a pretty light crowd up there," I say.
Thaddeus squirms in his seat, but regains his composure in the same breath, and smiles back at me.
"Halcyon," Thaddeus says. "Death and destruction are bad for the entertainment business. There are always those who are in a hurry to forget a tragedy, like the people you saw in attendance, and there are those who prefer to mourn. But it matters not. Eventually, they all come back. Did you hear that they're calling the Halcyon bombing a terrorist attack?"
"I may have heard something to that effect," I say.
"And what do you make of what you've heard?" Thaddeus asks.
I smile an answer.
Thaddeus chuckles. "What do you want from me, Bearer? Surely you don't think me a suspect in the bombing. I have been a law-abiding citizen of this plane for over a thousand years."
"Suspect? No. I wouldn't dream of it,” I say. “See, here's the thing. I don't think Halcyon was the target.”
"Oh? I'm intrigued."
"Don't play dumb with me, Thaddeus. We both know you're too smart to be good at it."
"I thank you for the compliment,” Thaddeus says. “So if Halcyon was not the target, then who was?"
"We believe the people killed in the attack were part of a sacrifice to summon Marchosias through the Field," says Lev.
Thaddeus gives Lev a tilted grin. "Marchosias. Oh my. And what do you know of such things, you delicious mortal?"
"J...just pretty much what he told me," answers Lev.
Thaddeus turns to me. "Why did you bring him again? Such a strange choice for a sidekick."
"I'm not a sidekick,” says Lev. “I'm more of a…"
"An employee," I say.
"Employee? How interesting,” says Thaddeus.
"Call it on-the-job training," I say. "There are complications with my current technical support. Levinson, here, is learning the ropes."
"My, well I hope things turn out well for Kylanthansa Uthmandir,” Thaddeus says. “If I may ask, what kind of complications have befallen our half-elven friend?"
Should I tell him? Doesn't he know? He must know by now. The whole thing happened over two weeks ago.
"You don't need to respond," Thaddeus says. "But, let me ask, are you in a position to be giving such training? Last I heard Azrael belongs to someone else."
Thaddeus leans back in his chair and steeples his fingertips in front of his lips. I shake my head at him.
"Oh so you know about that, do you?" I say.
"Oh, please,” says Thaddeus. “It's all over town. It's obvious. You're injured even with Azrael at your hip. And you're carrying a lot more guns than normal to make up for your shortcomings should this meeting go awry."
"Okay, see now we're getting somewhere,” I say. “Is something going to go wrong with this meeting?"
"Well it depends on the politeness you show me, I suppose," Thaddeus says.
"Why don't we stop with the cute little games and you tell me what you know so that we can get out of your hair," I tell him.
Thaddeus leans forward. "Here's the thing," he says. "I don't have to answer to you anymore. You no longer have authority over me. The Omega Treaties are broken, and you no longer bear the title of protector. I can kill both of you, slit your throats, drink your blood, and suffer no consequence except for the satisfaction of finally ending your existence after all these centuries."
His eyes flashed when he said the word "kill," and I swallowed a lump stuck in my throat. My body tenses up, and I fear for my life. Now that he's had his say, he smiles at us as if all is fine.
"Call it a courtesy, then," I say. "I would be grateful for any information you would be kind enough to provide."
"Ah there we are," says Thaddeus. "See, a little civility goes a long way. All right, information. Well, I heard you lost your mind, started killing the living with your magic sword and received some elven assistance in preserving your life when you should have died."
I sway my head from side to side.
"Your facts are a little muddled," I say. "But there's some truth in there, somewhere."
Thaddeus snickers as he presses a button on his wrist applicator. His fingers flutter over the applicator's holographic screen, and up pops a three-dimensional display on top of his desk, in front of Lev and me. It's the video of me fighting three ogres in the back of the ten-ton delivery truck.
"Such skill," he says. "Such vim. You truly were the man for the job. Your mother would have been proud."
Lev watches the video, and looks as if he's about to say something when pleasure-filled moans, coming from the balcony on the north wall, echoes through the office.
"Nasty business, ogres," says Thaddeus.
"But they weren't ogres, were they," I say. "Do you have any idea who can do this? Seeing as how you've got plenty of practice with possessions, I figure you can help me out."
"These are no possessions, Mr. Mara," Thaddeus says. "None of my faithful have achieved this level of physical transformation. I am the most powerful possession on Earth, but I look nothing like my patron, the great Dracul. No, these are something else entirely. Such an elegant way to change the status quo, wouldn't you say? A modification of the old to create something new."
"Something new? Dude, stop talking in riddles. This is serious."
Thaddeus smiles. "Aww, but riddles are more fun. Come on, Mr. Mara. Use that brain of yours for once."
Thaddeus gets up from his chair and walks over to the bar built into the wall behind him. He finds a glass and opens a drawer under the bar. Thaddeus drops three ice cubes into his glass before pouring brown liquid into it.
Then we hear a series of pleasurable moans from upstairs. The other girl must have finished. Thaddeus looks up to the lady vamps and smiles. Then he waves them away with two fingers. The two ladies stand up and leave the balcony through a door behind them.
Thaddeus doesn't sit back down behind his desk. Instead, he leans back on the bar giving us a cocksure smirk.
"Okay, so they're not possessions," I say.
"So what can they possibly be?” Thaddeus asks. “Think, former Bearer. If these creatures are not based in the arcane, then what is the other option?"
Thaddeus takes a long draw from his drink and then follows it up with a satisfied sigh.
I know what he is implying, but can it be done? Has human technology come that far? If it has, then surely it was because of the number one name in science and technology over the last century — the company that rules the roost.
"Yes," Thaddeus says. "You see it now. Don't you, old friend?"
"What?"
asks Lev. "See what?"
"That's impossible," I say. "There's no way. No one can pull this off. Not even with Halcyon's resources."
"What was it your mother used to say?" he asks.
"The mind will always reduce the impossible to what it can comprehend and imagine," I say.
"Precisely," says Thaddeus.
The two doors beside the bar, on the west wall, open. From the door to right of the bar enters two well-dressed vamps, smiling. One of them is a male and the other a female. The same female with green eyes and black lipstick which gave Lev 'come hither' looks while we were on our way here. From the door on the left comes the two ladies that were pleasuring each other on the northern balcony to our right.
The doors open behind us and our giant escorts block the door with their girth, both of them carrying pulse cannons. Then they press a button on their black belt buckles. The black plate coverings pop open to reveal patterns of lights and buttons, too small to differentiate, centered on a glowing red crystal. They key in a sequence, and the air changes around them, reality warping. The crystals in the middle of their belt buckles glow bright red. The light intensifies until the buckles sputter and smoke, shorting out.
The goons transform before our eyes. Red light spreads from the buckles to their bodies, pulsing beneath their skin. Their muscles rip through their thermal suits, displacing the illusion of their all-black uniforms. They grow another foot, their bodies widening and ripping off their belts. Their faces contort, sprouting tusks. Their eyes glow a blood red, and their muscles shift and tighten underneath their naked, pinkish gray skin.
I turn back to Thaddeus. "What have you done?"
"Well, Mr. Mara, I hope you found the information I gave you sufficient. Much good may it do you."
Twenty-Two
Lev and I both push away from Thaddeus' desk. We stand up, and our chairs fall back, clattering on the marble floor. Adrenaline courses through me, mitigating the pain radiating from my various injuries. Lev reaches through his blazer avatar, unholsters both pistols, and points them at Thaddeus. I unsheathe The Destroying Angel and hold it at a near guard.
"Ooh there's the Bearer I've come to know and loathe," says Thaddeus. "Aren't you glad? All these years, circling each other, waiting on who would make the first move. Wouldn't you have loved to have all your power for a moment like this?"
The two ogres, at the double doors behind us, pump the fore-ends of their pulse cannons. Their weapons hum to life, purple light glows on the sides of their barrels, readying a charge to be fired. The four vamps behind Thaddeus' desk fan out in a semicircle around their master, licking their lips in anticipation of their kill.
My eyes dart to each of the threats surrounding Lev and me.
"Oh, don't give me that," I say to Thaddeus. "You're a coward through and through. You wouldn't get into a fight you couldn't win."
"Well others would call that tactical," Thaddeus says. "Who, in their right mind, would get into a conflict to lose?"
"You're going to lose this one, pal."
"Ah, such a fine display of the line between bravery and stupidity,” Thaddeus says. “That's what I always liked about you — the blindness of the brawny. Even now, you think your confidence can save you. Look at you; weak; shaking. As the saying goes 'You got heart, kid.' And I can't wait to pull it out slowly."
"How long have you—"
"Oh this," he says. "I've been planning this for three hundred years. And I can't believe it's all finally bearing fruit. I will admit one thing: I didn't count on you living, and breaking The Treaties. I planned your death, but I didn't count on anyone being powerful enough to save you. It worked out well for me. Now, as a special treat, I get to kill you myself."
Thaddeus turns toward the southern balcony to our left. "Bring him out!" he yells.
The door behind the southern balcony opens. Kyle, bound, gagged, bloody, and beaten, flops out of the door. He lands on the balcony's stone floor.
Another vampire steps out to the southern balcony and stands over Kyle. The vamp then lifts Kyle over its head and throws him over the balcony. Kyle lands hard on the marble floor. It’s a twenty foot fall, and he definitely broke some bones upon landing. He rolls on the ground in pain. I drop The Destroying Angel, and rush over to release him from his bindings.
Kyle's face is a bloody mess. His right eye is swollen shut. His thermal suit is brown and red from blood. After I untie him, I help him up, put his arm over my shoulder, and help him to the center of the room to stand with Lev.
Kyle takes his arm off of my shoulder and murmurs in an arcane tongue. A yellow crystal forms above his palm. Weakly, he presses the crystal to his chest. His cuts close, and his bruises disappear. The swelling in his right eye goes down.
"Kyle, what are you doing?" I say, picking up The Destroying Angel from the floor. "Aren't the erolith tracking your magic?"
"I don't care," Kyle says. Then he spits out a glob of blood. "If I am to die at the hands of the erolith, then I am going to take as many of these monsters with me before I go."
Thaddeus smiles. "That's the spirit," he says.
Thaddeus empties his glass and puts it down. Then the air swirls in front of Thaddeus in two spots, concentrated where his hands are. The fabric of reality bends at his palms. It warps and stretches before Thaddeus launches himself into the air, and lands gracefully onto the balcony on the north wall.
He used to be a powerful human sorcerer, and he has skills to pay the bills, as they say. But when humans use magic, it's not as elegant as when Elves use it. Elves focus Field energies into gems of light, giving it more control and potency. Humans warp and manipulate the Field itself to get the desired effect they want. It's as if they are reaching out and touching the Field, while the elves gather energy from it. The human ways of arcane manipulation are wilder, unpredictable, and takes its toll on the human body. Thaddeus, however, has Dracul inside him, keeping his body from failing.
I look up nervously at Thaddeus on the balcony to our right. His eyes are eager for blood. The three of us are down in the pit at the center of the arena, like Christians in the Colosseum surrounded by hungry lions.
"You got any of that healing left for me?" I ask Kyle.
"Perhaps a little," Kyle says. "I will need to keep some energy for myself so that I can be useful in this fight."
"Okay fine, a little lower body action, will do."
Yellow light shines from Kyle's palm, accompanied by eddying yellow fog. Then he touches my leg. Bones set. I flex the muscles in my quadriceps and feel no pain. The nanobots inside me leave my lower half and concentrate on repairing my upper body.
"This is hardly fair," Thaddeus says above us. "You have a healer among you. What say we make it a little more challenging?"
Thaddeus signals the two ogres behind us at the double doors to move away. The two ogre goons follow Thaddeus' direction, and two more naked, seven foot tall ogres walk into the room, punching their fists in their hands.
"Ah, that's better," Thaddeus says. "Now, we may begin."
Twenty-Three
My eyes move to each of our would-be killers. The four beautiful vamps in front of us are getting ready to pounce. The vamp that threw Kyle down from the balcony leaps down to join its friends here with us. Their mouths are salivating at the thought of battle. Adrenaline and dopamine. Aphrodisiacs. This whole thing is right up their vampiric alley. In Ancient Rome, during gladiatorial games, men and women would be having sex in the stands and tried timing their climax to when someone was getting killed. Watching people die while you came was a thrill like no other. And these vampires can't wait to drink, bathe, and fornicate in our blood.
Behind us are four ogres, each seven feet tall, and wide as dump-trucks. Two of them are armed with pulse cannons. The other two are unarmed. Ogres are lesser demons of the spirit world — small-time celestials born from violent anger. But these are no ordinary ogres. They aren't made exclusively from Field energies. They're manufactured. They're
big, strong, angry, and able to rip us limb from limb. Growls and snorts are coming from them, like enraged rodeo bulls behind the gate, waiting to be released.
Thaddeus smiles down at us and looks right at me. "Are you prepared to die?"
Am I? I don't bother responding.
Two of the vamps — the beautiful ones that were canoodling up in the north balcony — dash to the sides of the room. One to the north side, under Thaddeus' balcony; the other to the south, joining the vamp that threw Kyle down. I almost give myself whiplash trying to trail one of them.
"Holy shit, man. These things move fast," Lev says. He points both his Glock-17s at the vampire under Thaddeus' balcony.
"Tell me, Nyyx," Kyle says. "What possessed you to bring Levinson along?"
"Well, technically he's my employer," Lev answers.
"What?" Kyle asks.
"That is a story for another time," I say. "If we get out of this alive, I'll tell you all about it."
"I see you found your sword as well," Kyle says.
"Actually, the needle in the haystack found me," I say.
"How did that happen?" asks Kyle.
"Again..."
"Story for another time," says Kyle. "I understand."
"Lev, you're gonna need to ditch those pistols,” I say. “You need something with more oomph."
"Oh right," says Lev.
Lev holsters both his pistols and goes down to the bag to grab a couple of AR-15s. He slings one over his right shoulder. The other, he loads and readies. Then he grabs a couple of extra mags and puts them in his pockets.
"I think you will need this, as well," says Kyle.
He gathers Field energy into a baby blue crystal on top of his palm. Then he puts the crystal on the small of Lev's back. The crystal pulses and attaches to Lev's body.
"What the hell was that?" Lev asks. "I felt it go up my spine."
"It's a shield spell crystal," Kyle says. "It will activate if something hits you. But try not to get hit. It's not permanent, and dissipates after so many uses."
"Uh, thanks,” says Lev.
"I see you've brought your bag of goodies," Kyle says to me.
The Irispire Portal Page 14
