Mage Hunters Box Set

by Andrew C Piazza

  “She calls that Wither,” Cass said. “The dried bodies thing. She uses it to heal herself.”

  “I don’t give a shit. I want to know how you let this situation get so far out of control.”

  Now Cass could feel her temper go completely nuclear, the inside of her skull turning into molten hot lava as the last bit of restraint holding her emotions back fell away. Before she could get an angry word out, though, Dread stepped around in front of her and blocked her completely from Dennett’s view.

  “Deputy Director, if I may?” he said.

  “Sir,” Michael said, “this is Harrison, he’s…”

  “Dread,” Dennett said. “I read his file. If memory serves, there was a MARSOC operator that went by the call sign of Dread, did some work in Operation Grand Slam in Afghanistan.”

  “Yes, sir,” Dread said. “And if my memory serves, there was a Major Dennett, XO of Task Force Striker serving in Kandahar around that same time.”

  “There was indeed,” Dennett said, then gave Dread a nod. “All right, then, Marine, no bullshit. What went down in there?”

  “Sir, our mission was strictly surveillance inside the mall, to gather intel on this Cabal and their relation to the target, Kel. Then, the plan was to apprehend Kel in the parking lot, away from as many civilians as possible, to minimize potential collateral damage.”

  “Why take her in a public place at all?”

  “Kel is a master level death mage, in possession of what amounts to a magical weapon of mass destruction.”

  “This… sphere… from the incident at the prison a few months ago.”

  “Exactly, sir. With that sort of potential firepower in play… we couldn’t take the risk of her getting away and using that device, especially in a city this heavily populated.”

  “So what went sideways?”

  “Kel is unstable,” Dread said. “Mentally, I mean. We were in our OP, across from the restaurant, and we could hear from what Kel was saying that she was starting to become… well, unhinged. Her tone started to indicate that a confrontation between her and the Cabal was imminent.”

  “And it’s your belief that this confrontation would have happened with or without your presence?”

  “Absolutely, sir. This was going down even if we had been a million miles away. We just did what we could to contain the situation.”

  “And make the best of a shit sandwich?”

  Dread smiled. “Exactly that, sir.”

  Cass tried her best not to yank her own hair out in frustration. This was the latest in a long line of similar incidents. She would try to explain what was what to their supervisors, and they wouldn’t hear a word of it. Dread would then tell them the exact same thing, and the bosses would swallow it down and ask for seconds.

  It drove her crazy. Even worse, Dread knew that it drove her crazy, and now whenever he worked his own particular brand of magic with the brass, he would glance at her with a little twinkle in his eyes just to torment her.

  What’s happening? a voice said in Cass’s mind.

  The voice was not her own. She jumped a little bit at the abruptness of a foreign voice intruding on her own thoughts, but then Cass relaxed once she recognized the voice as Mickey’s. It wasn’t the first time the little Mentalist had started a conversation in Cass’s mind.

  God damn it, Mickey, she thought. I’ve told you before not to do this. Stop whispering your thoughts in my head.

  Well, I can’t do it out loud! Mickey’s voice said in her mind. They’ll hear me! What’s going on with Dread and this boss guy?

  Cass sighed. Sometimes, it was easier to simply give Mickey what she wanted.

  Marines have this… thing, she explained. Like fraternity brothers.

  So does that mean we’re not going to get into trouble?

  We’ll see. Now get the fuck out of my mind.

  Okay, okay. Sorry.

  Cass tuned back in to the conversation Dread and Dennett were having.

  “Were any of your people hurt?” Dennett asked.

  “Nothing that we can’t shake off, sir.”

  “Good. We’re going to need you on this. Seems to me that you and your people are the only reason that this wasn’t even more of a disaster.”

  “Cass is actually team leader, sir,” Dread said. “I’m just a glorified bullet stopper.”

  He gave Cass that look, that twinkly-eyed look that drove her right next to insanity, with the slightest hint of a smile touching his lips. She clenched her fists hard with the effort it took to keep the top of her head from popping off.

  “I understand your prisoner has a broken jaw,” Dennett said. “That’s going to slow the pace of the interrogation. Makes it trickier. Gives them time to react to questioning.”

  “Yes, sir,” Dread said. “I had to give him a little love tap while apprehending him. But it shouldn’t be an issue. We’re planning on sending our Mentalist to interrogate him.”

  “You have a Mentalist on your team?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s better that she be the one to interrogate him, anyway. He can’t hide anything from her.”

  Dennett nodded. “You’ll need a warrant.”

  “Yes, sir, we will.”

  “All right. I’ll expedite that. Michael, you’re on clean up detail with this fiasco at the mall. And Michael?”

  “Yes, Deputy Director?” Michael said.

  “You’re on thin ice. I’ll be frank; I was going to pull the plug on this little experiment of yours, deputizing a bunch of felons and misfits to pursue Kel. But seeing as how they’re the only ones who made a goddamn bit of difference in this whole shitty mess… they stay on. For now.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Dread said.

  “All right. Get your people moving, Dread.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, smiling wide now at Cass.

  I hate you, she mouthed at him. It only made him smile wider.

  “Other than the Mentalist,” Dennett said, “the rest of us are going to listen to a lecture that Dr. Keaney has prepared. He is our foremost expert on the physics of magic, so listen up and take notes.”

  Now Cass couldn’t help but let her eyes roll a little. A lecture. A goddamn lecture. The last thing in the world she needed right now was to be stuck in a painfully boring lecture while Kel and the Cabal were out there causing God only knew what kind of damage.

  Something tickled at the back of her mind. There might just be a way out of having to endure Keaney’s presentation.

  “Mickey, head over to the hospital where they’ve got Oswald,” she said. “Wait for him to wake up. You’ll need some backup, so I’ll…”

  “I’ll go,” Lysette said quickly.

  Cass shot her a look. “Actually, Lys, I was thinking that I would…”

  “No, it’s fine, I’ll go,” Lysette said. “They probably want you here for this lecture thing. Seeing as how you’re squad leader.”

  “She’s right,” Keaney said. “You should really be present for the lecture.”

  “So I’ll go,” Lysette said.

  “Why, thank you, Lys,” Cass said, trying not to spit hot fire out along with her words. “That is very thoughtful of you to volunteer.”

  “Wish I’d thought of that,” Shifty muttered under his breath.

  I did think of that, Cass thought. She just snatched it out of my grasp.

  Lysette shot her a rare smile as she and Mickey filed out of the room, free from the bondage of having to endure a lecture from the FBI specialist that Cass couldn’t stop calling “Egghead” in her mind. Keaney the Egghead from the FBI began setting up a digital projector and laptop he produced from the bag slung at his side.

  “Okay, so, I’ve prepared a very thorough presentation on everything we know about the physics of death magic,” he said, “so go ahead and get comfortable. We’re going to be here for a while.”

  Cass lowered her head into her hands. Great, she thought. Just great. Back in prison again.

  Kel

  The
wretches still defy me. How many times have I demonstrated my superiority to them and still, still they defy me? Very well, then. There is a certain satisfaction in forcing the defiant to bend the knee.

  That pompous pretender Matthias and his gang of sycophants play their pathetic games, but they have no concept of true power. It was easy to see the Cabal’s lack of conviction almost as soon as they approached me, all those years ago.

  Join our cause, Kel, they called out to me. Join our vision. But they have no true cause; they have no true vision. The Cabal is nothing but a mass of cockroaches scurrying in the dark, content with whatever scraps Matthias deems to dole out to them.

  They begged me for a glimpse of the powers I hold at my command. Then, once I’d demonstrated my mastery over the powers of life and death, they begged me once again to create that which they could not… a charm, an object capable of containing the levels of power necessary to meet their needs.

  Their fractured weakness disgusted me even as I fulfilled their desires. The creation of the sphere… the death magic charm they so desperately needed… was no easy task. Entire volumes could be written on its design; countless lives were sacrificed to its creation.

  They wanted it in the United States, but there was no way to build it there. The sheer amount of material I needed to absorb into the device… the number of lives I needed to take for my work… prohibited its construction in any country where this phenomenon they call Life is held so dear.

  In the quiet corners of the world, though, where people disappear and never return as a matter of course, I could gather the material I needed. I knew it all too well. I was created in such a place, where crimes that would make the civilized shudder are a simple fact of day to day life. Such a place created me, and in such a place, I could create my sphere unopposed. Even before it was done, I saw a way to get it into this country.

  Power is always in demand. There is no shortage of those desperate to purchase it, to trade meaningless money or platitudes in an attempt to avoid having to dig down into the Earth and actually work for what they desire. They simply want to take it. They all want to take it from me.

  Once I do all of the work, struggling and straining and searching and finally creating that which is exceptional, then they think to brush me aside once they have what they want; to use my power and then shuffle me off like an old coat worn out from use. They think they can simply take what is mine away from me, and I will be powerless to stop them.

  He’s always this way. He’s always been this way. Ever since we were children, he’s tried to take everything from me. He’s always tried to bully me. If I would find food, he would take it from me. If I found something valuable, he would take it from me. Once his body became mature enough to want more carnal desires, he would take that from me as well. Now he wants to do it again, to take away the sphere, to steal all my hard work, to steal everything from me.

  No, no, no. He is not here, not any more. I ended him, years ago. One of my first. Ended him, and ended the family who would not or could not protect me from him.

  Ever since the prison, I’ve had trouble distinguishing past from present, memory from reality. Visions of days long gone haunt me like lingering nightmares; those who victimized me, those whom I have victimized. It all blurs together, until I can no longer tell where the past ends and the present begins.

  I have to remember. I have to remind myself; this is the present, not the past. I am no longer that helpless victim subject to the whims of the perverse. I am no longer powerless. Now, I am the predator, I am the master, and all are now subject to my will.

  Soon enough, even armies will be powerless to stand against me.

  It helps when I take the life from another, when I Wither their material to restore my own. It clears the clouds obscuring my judgement, eases the damage done by that little Mentalist back at the prison. I take their life, and I come back into myself more fully.

  It was my own fault, what she did to me. I let my guard down. I was so used to crushing my enemies like insects that I allowed my focus to falter, and in that moment of weakness, the little Mentalist did her damage to me.

  She invaded my mind. Everything became intolerably intense; I was burning, I was freezing, my ears were deafened with a blast of sound, my eyes were blinded with a light that wasn’t really there. He was there, my tormentor, alive again, his foul, hot breath on the back of my neck as he forced himself into me. I was terrified beyond measure, furious beyond control, melancholy to the point of suicide. And there was pain. Extraordinary pain. Every single portion of my mind, all of it out of control, all at once.

  It was nothing more than reflex that saved me. A primordial desire to escape the pain manifested itself by my teleporting away from the prison and into the depths of the city.

  What followed is hard to recall precisely. Images come to me in brief glimpses, like fragments of a nearly-forgotten dream. Wandering the streets. Seeing his face everywhere, leering at me with his dirty teeth. Hunger. Hiding. Weeping uncontrollably without cause. Abandoned tunnels under the city.

  And killing. Withering those I found, and afterwards, a period of clarity.

  That was what I needed after the encounter with Matthias at the mall. I had exerted so much effort in taking their pieces off the board, that the past began to creep in again around the corners of my consciousness.

  His voice began to whisper his perverse demands to me as I wandered through the streets of the suburbs. I felt small, weak, like a helpless child again.

  I found a quiet park where I could try to collect myself. A mother was there with her children; Withering their material quickly brought me back within myself.

  I became strong again, whole again. I was able to think and distinguish more clearly what was real and what was now. Matthias and his idiot protégé Valentine had escaped the restaurant, and my allies had all failed me.

  Weak. All so weak. They scattered and ran like cowards, straight into the hands of the police. The police, who must have been waiting for us all along. But how could they know about our meeting with the Cabal?

  Fly. That preening worm. It had to have been Fly who led the police to us. Caleb and Martin at least tried to fight, but Fly simply kept to his namesake and fled at the first opportunity.

  It doesn’t matter. If he’s still in this city, he will fall to what is coming next. He cannot escape my wrath, either now or later. He will pay for his betrayal.

  There were others involved. Caleb and Martin. Oswald and Adjani. I needed to know where those pieces were on the board. There was a simple way to find the answers.

  The living may lie and deceive, but the dead hold no secrets from me.

  Americans like to joke that there is never a cop when you need one, but I was able to find a policeman sitting in his patrol car easily enough. His eyes widened as I approached; they must have circulated my appearance amongst themselves after recent events.

  It didn’t matter. He was just a man, with no defenses against me. I ended him instantly with the Death Trick; he slumped forward across his steering wheel before I could walk around to the passenger side of the vehicle.

  I got into the car and raised the dead policeman as a ghoul. He sat back up, his eyes and fingernails now black as night.

  “I have questions,” I said.

  “Ask,” he replied, in the murky voice the dead have once they become ghouls.

  “The incident at the mall. What is the status of those involved?”

  “Two suspects killed on site, identified only as Caleb and Martin. Two other suspects, identified as Oswald and Dr. Adjani, currently in custody. The fugitive known as Kel is still at large. The fugitive known as Fly is still at large. Two other suspects, identified only as Matthias and Valentine, still at large.”

  I had hoped to take the Cabal’s pieces off the board, but the weakness of my allies had led to my losing pieces of my own. Fly was no loss, unreliable and weak at best. But Caleb and Martin… they had some utility. I could
still make use of their skills.

  At least Oswald and Adjani had been taken off the board. Matthias and Valentine were likely licking their wounds someplace safe after the whirlwind of violence that had been unleashed in the restaurant.

  Fine, then. I needed to get some of my pieces back into play.

  “Where are the bodies of Caleb and Martin?”

  “Most likely at the county coroner’s office,” my new thrall answered me.

  “Take me there.”

  The drive was short, but it still allowed me to gather my thoughts on what was to come. The next series of moves started to coalesce in my mind. Everything became much clearer to me now, especially since I no longer had other personalities with which to contend.

  It is so much easier to deal with the dead. The living are unpredictable, defiant, self-absorbed; the dead simply serve. I have found the company of the living less and less desirable as the years have gone by. So many arguments, so much convincing and cajoling required over the smallest of commands.

  Exhausting. The presence of the dead is more preferable. Slaves and thralls simply obey their master. This is the proper way of things. Better that I surround myself with the dead, than struggle with the conflicting wills of the living.

  Caleb and Martin were difficult to control in life, but in death, they would prove far more useful. Not as ghouls; as ghouls, any powers they held as mages would be lost. I needed them to be completely functional, not automatons devoid of their magical skills and intellect.

  The strong take adversity and turn it to their advantage. The Cabal thought that I lost two of my pieces in the battle. Caleb and Martin were dead, true, but if I took their bodies to the Revival Tech building, the situation would then work to my advantage.

  Revived Individuals who were mages in life experience a dramatic increase in the level of their powers after undergoing the Revival process. It can be quite dramatic, actually; another person might have been concerned that with their newfound power, Caleb and Martin might turn on me rather than obey.