The Wounded Ones

Home > Other > The Wounded Ones > Page 5
The Wounded Ones Page 5

by G. D. Penman


  Ceejay was scowling. “It doesn’t matter what you buy. It isn’t your job anymore. Remember? You quit.”

  A bitter laugh escaped Sully. “Yeah, lucky me.”

  It was only when he turned on her that she realized he wasn’t joking. “Back off, Sully. You have your own business to be dealing with. Stay out of mine.”

  Sully’s jaw clenched but she forced her temper down. She had a lifetime of practice at that. “I don’t know what you think is going on, but I don’t want my job back.”

  “What’s going on is that just when I thought I was going to see my friend again for the first time in months, a spy walked in dressed in her clothes. Fuck you very much, Sully.”

  Sully did not blow up the Gobi Grill. She even paid the tab for the coffee and glutinous lumps. When she stepped out into the street, the gathering of three dozen crows perched on every flat surface was probably a complete coincidence and nothing to do with her mood. She shooed them away and waited to watch them circle up through the canyon between the skyscrapers to vanish into the chill blue sky. She blew out a warm cloud of breath after them. She didn’t know what was worse: Ceejay’s calling her a government stooge or his being completely right. Her phone started to vibrate in her pocket and with great reluctance she drew it out. She wasn’t sure how Ogden had adapted to modern technology faster than she had, given that she had several centuries head-start, but there was his name flashing on the screen.

  She grunted, “Sullivan.”

  He replied, “Ogden.” She could almost hear the smug grin.

  “What do you want, Ogden?”

  “I just thought that it might be an auspicious time to invite you to visit with us in Manhattan.”

  Sully tried not to growl. “Why would anyone want to do that?”

  “You could take a look at the unique architecture? Get to know your new friends and allies? Come and witness the ritual that we use to tear down the Veil of Tears?”

  Sully huffed out another plume of steam. “You finished the spell.”

  “We have most assuredly finished the spell.”

  What Manhattan used to be could be seen in its foundations. As she soared over the water Sully caught a glimpse of wood and whitewash here and there. The ground gravel beneath her course still bore the shape of cobblestones in places and there was unmistakably dirt and dung beneath that. Once upon a time, this had been a human place. The moment that she looked higher than knee height the illusion that it still belonged to mankind vanished. Conjured stone twisted up into the skyline, jagged and impossibly symmetrical. The spires of Manhattan resembled nothing so much as gargantuan termite mounds and the fact that the doorways and thoroughfares of the city had been designed with residents many times the size of humans in mind just hammered home the idea that humans were visitors here. The outer wall stood at more than twenty feet tall and the smooth white expanse of it was oppressive, but it also hid the strangeness of everything within its circumference very well. There was no gate in or out of Manhattan; there was no need when every one of the residents could fly. Sully tried not to shudder as she saw the demons coiled along the ramparts beneath her, nesting in the belfries and lurking in the shadows between the towers. There were not as many of them as there were Magi, but the numbers were close. In all of the dull meetings since the war began, Sully had not voiced her suspicions that behind their impassable walls the Magi were summoning more demons to bolster their forces. It wasn’t as though there was anything that could be done, even if they were; Manhattan was a law unto itself. That had been the problem since before it popped back into the world.

  Sully took the scenic route down to the massive ritual circle in the center of the city where the mass of Magi were gathered. Intelligence about America’s allies had been even harder to come by than information about the British in the past months, so she was making up for lost time. That was what she told herself to justify her slow descent. It wasn’t because she was frightened to go down into a massive nest of demons that would eat her magic and tear her to shreds and it certainly wasn’t because she was keeping an eye out for Mol Kalath. The bird could be here or not, it made no difference to her. Once she was sure that it was not, she dove to land gracelessly by Ogden’s side. He was grinning. “A very pleasant afternoon to you, Miss Sullivan.”

  “Right. How long have we got until the fireworks start?”

  He swept his arms out to encompass this little town square. “They have already begun the preliminary casting. Each component shall be bound within the circle and when all of the parts have been assembled—”

  Sully grumbled. “I know how ritual magic works. I’m asking for a time.”

  When he laughed it tugged on the scars across his lips, making him flinch. “By this time tomorrow, the Veil of Tears shall be unpicked and all the hell of Europe will be unleashed upon the British. Even now we ready our envoys to meet with the trapped demons. We shall marshal our forces in France, then strike out before tomorrow ends. They will not stand against such an onslaught for long. I would expect surrender by the following dawn at the latest.”

  “Good job. Has Pratt been told?” Sully cracked her knuckles.

  “The Prime Minister has been informed, yes.”

  Sully closed her eyes and felt the magic taking form, each caster stitching their spell onto the last, every spell simple and easy to replace if an error was made, but woven together into an immense, complex tapestry. She had punched through a few barrier spells in her day, but that was a momentary disruption of the stable patterns, not a permanent solution like this patchwork monstrosity of a spell. She could already see the shape that it was going to take from the gaps left in the framework that they had cast so far. Understanding the totality of it was probably beyond her, but she could appreciate the craft.

  “So, did you invite me here to watch you all casting for twenty hours? Because I might need a seat or something.”

  Ogden shuffled his feet. “Knowing the little that I do of you, I had assumed that you would want to be at the front lines when the fighting begins.”

  “You assumed right.” Sully flexed her hands. The dense magic that saturated the air was teasing little sparks of spellfire from her fingertips.

  “Which is why our mutual friend has offered to carry you with the vanguard to Europe.”

  Sully grimaced at the tell-tale rustle of feathers behind her. “Hello again, Mol Kalath.”

  “GREETINGS, SHADOW-TWIN.” The voice tore right through Sully every single time. Even the other demons roaming free around Manhattan chattering in their own tongue didn’t make her head creak as much.

  “I guess that you’re my ride to Europe?”

  “THE DISTANCE IS TOO GREAT FOR YOUR SPELLS OF FLIGHT. YOU SHALL RIDE UPON MY BACK AND AT LAST WE WILL HAVE TIME TO CONVERSE.”

  Sully ground her teeth together while Ogden clapped her on the back. “Just think, Miss Sullivan. In two days’ time, the war will be over and we will have toppled the British Empire.”

  She unclenched her jaw. “All right. Let’s do this.”

  Mounting the demon had been the biggest delay. The way that its feathers rustled with anticipation made Sully queasy, and when she finally got the courage together to touch them, they clung to her fingers like oil. She scrambled up onto the demon’s back, straining to make as little physical contact as possible. With the first beat of Mol Kalath’s wings, her apprehension was replaced by survival instinct and she pressed herself closely to the demon’s back as it took flight. She tried to breathe through her mouth so that the brimstone reek didn’t overwhelm her. Sully’s eyes were crushed shut; if she could just pretend that she wasn’t there then maybe the fear would stop. She didn’t see her city fade into the distance, missed the last of the towers dipping beneath the water and the glow fading from the sky. They flew off to war and she didn’t look back.

  November 4, 2015

 
Sometime after midnight, Sully gave in and spoke to the demon. Despite herself, she was still pressed tight against its back for warmth as they flitted over the chill waves of the Atlantic and she wasn’t even sure that it could hear her when she muttered, “I guess there is no getting rid of you, is there?”

  “OUR FATES ARE BOUND TOGETHER, IONA.” The demon’s voice reverberated up through its back. Sully felt it as much as heard it.

  “I don’t get it. Why me?”

  “IT IS NOT ONLY YOU. IT IS THE NATURE OF THE PLANES. EACH LAYER OF THE UNIVERSE IS THE SAME, DIFFERING ONLY IN ITS DISTANCE FROM THE SOURCE.”

  “Oh Christ. I didn’t know that there was going to be an in-flight lecture.”

  “HERE THE LIGHT OF THE SOURCE SHINES WEAKLY. MAGIC IS THIN AND SPARSE. MANY CANNOT EVEN WIELD IT. THE WORLD IS BRITTLE. IN THE WORLD BELOW—IN OUR HOME HELLS—THE MAGIC FLOWS FREELY AND ALL IS IN FLUX.”

  “And beyond that there are the far planes where there is so much magic that you just might pop. I know this stuff.”

  “YOU DO NOT COMPREHEND. THESE ARE JUST THE PLANES THAT WE HAVE SEEN, THE CLOSEST AND EASIEST TO TRAVERSE. YET IN EACH OF THEM WE EXIST. IN THIS WORLD, YOU ARE ME. IN MY WORLD, I AM YOU.”

  For a long time there was no sound but the beating of wings, then Sully said, “So if I had been born in the hells, I would’ve been a big black bird-thing.”

  “JUST AS I WOULD HAVE BEEN A SMALL PINKISH HUMAN THING.”

  Sully snorted. “But how do you know that I’m your shadow-twin?”

  “WHEN WE SOUGHT ESCAPE FROM THE TORMENTORS OF THE FAR PLANE, WE FOUND THAT EACH OF US HAD BUT A SINGLE VESSEL THAT WE COULD POSSESS IN THE MORTAL WORLD ONCE THE ANIMATING FORCE HAD LEFT IT. YOU ARE MINE. IF YOU HAD CUT A DEAL WITH THE HELLS, YOUR FLESH WOULD HAVE BEEN MINE.”

  “Well, that’s horrifying. Thanks for sharing, big bird.”

  “YOU ARE MOST WELCOME. AND I AM NOT A BIRD.”

  The silence of the night was sliced away with beats of the demon’s wings, minute after minute, until Sully couldn’t bear it. “So the things you guys are so scared of, the Far Realms versions of us. They were born right next to the source of all magic. That means they are more powerful than you?”

  “THEY WERE POWERFUL ENOUGH TO PENETRATE THE WALL BETWEEN OUR WORLDS WITHOUT BEING SUMMONED. THEY WERE POWERFUL ENOUGH TO PREY ON US FOR MILLENNIA BEYOND RECKONING.”

  “Then why haven’t we seen them here?”

  “PERHAPS YOU HAVE.”

  Sully sighed. “Well, we’ve got plenty of monsters and gods in the old books. They can’t all have been your lot.”

  “IONA.”

  “What?”

  “LOOK.”

  The spell flowed over Sully and the demon like a cascading rainbow. Each Magus had added their own power to the mixture, their own unique signature blending into this masterwork of the craft. The shockwave hit the Veil of Tears on the horizon and threw the sea beneath Mol Kalath into a thirty-foot wave that batted the demon back as though it were a common crow. Sully grabbed a greasy handful of feathers to avoid being pitched into the roiling water.

  Instead of opening herself up and experiencing the wonder of the Veil being torn apart, piece by piece, Sully clamped down so that it was only deafeningly loud and blindingly bright. Unbound magic rolled over them in waves as they struggled to stay in the air and, willingly or not, Sully and her demon absorbed it until they were so saturated with power that it started straining to get out. Sparks trailed from Mol Kalath’s feathers. Sully’s breath came out as puffs of smoke and flame. Still they drove on toward the center of the maelstrom.

  Then, as swiftly as it had begun, it was over. The silence held for a dreadful moment before the cacophony of hooting, bellowing cries of the demons behind them filled it up. Even Mol Kalath brayed in triumph, and why wouldn’t it? This was just what the demons had always wanted; free rein across the world. Dread was a dull ache in Sully’s gut. As the odd pair drew closer to the spell-blighted cliffs of the French coastline, the great bird’s cries were echoed back by its demon kin on the land. They swooped down to greet the first of their new allies.

  The demons of Europe were a different breed from the thriving monstrosities that Manhattan had brought home with it. They were smaller, sleeker, and better shaped for life on the earth. They had a reasonable number of legs, fewer superfluous mouths, and the paucity of jagged teeth and raking claws on display was almost disappointing. They still started salivating when they laid eyes on Sully, though. They were still feral. When the first tentacle casually reached out to snatch her, Mol Kalath snapped it in half with a pinch of its beak and let out a hiss. “NO.”

  The other demons were twittering and gargling in supplication, begging Mol Kalath, “SHARE TREAT. SHARE MEAT. SHARE. SHARE.”

  “SILENCE.”

  The demons of Europe cowered. Mol Kalath rose up to its full height and bellowed. “THE WAR WITH MAN IS DONE. THEY ARE OUR ALLIES AGAINST THE ONES BELOW. THIS ONE LEADS THEM. THIS ONE WILL LEAD YOU IF YOU WILL LISTEN.”

  Sully had practiced this little speech a half-dozen times and had been privy to the eight thousand “little notes” that Pratt had provided to the withered old bastard of an ambassador who had been meant to make the proffer of alliance. “Here’s the deal that we are offering. America will be your friends. We’ll let you keep whatever land in Europe that you can hold without our help, and if it comes to war with a foreign power, we will do our best to help you out. In return, we need a little bit of help right now to deal with the people that trapped you in here to start with.” She turned on the spot and pointed north. “Britain is that way. They are our enemy, and now that the barrier keeping you trapped in Europe is down, they’re your enemy too. We are proposing that we fight them together and don’t fight each other. Sound good?”

  The crowd of demons had been growing denser with every passing moment as more and more arrived from the scattered nests they had burrowed into the corpse of Europe. Sully’s words were being passed back in a chain of whispers. Mol Kalath spread its black wings and roared, “CRUSH THE HUMANS?”

  Instinct took over and the demons began to bellow back. “CRUSH THE HUMANS.”

  Sully shuddered as the battle cries and shrieks rolled over her. When she spoke, it was mainly to herself. “I can work with this.”

  Given time, the message began to spread amongst the demons and most of them seemed relieved to have finally received permission to be in the world after however many decades they had been squatters. Some of the demons were set in their old ways and wanted to go on a rampage the moment that the Veil fell. It was taking considerable effort on the part of their friends to constrain them and explain the situation. There weren’t a lot of them, but any number of rampaging demons was probably too many rampaging demons. After an hour of bellowed arguments in languages that Sully was pretty confident a mouth with only one tongue couldn’t speak, she was fed up. She stalked off into the wilderness and tried her best to get her headache to recede.

  France had been wiped off the maps before she was even born, so Sully couldn’t work out where exactly they were, but the war-torn hell-scape that she had been expecting was strangely absent. In fact, it was idyllic compared to most of the modern world. Here and there you could spot the remains of old buildings overtaken by nature, but even they just seemed like a little flourish in a well-designed garden. Whatever war had been fought here had been over for so long that even the earth beneath her feet had forgotten it. She had been taught, and had believed, that the demons unleashed by the Great War were corrupting Europe somehow, that they were twisting it into a nightmarish kingdom of horrors. The reality was disappointing—it was just abandoned land.

  Mol Kalath ambled up to Sully. It was careful to keep its voice low; every word still grated across her soul, but she appreciated the effort. “WE HAVE COME TO A CONSENSUS. THEY WILL JOIN OUR CAUSE.”

  “W
ell, it wasn’t like they had a lot of better options,” Sully scoffed.

  “THEY ARE FEW IN NUMBER: THE RIFTS THAT THEY USED TO TRAVEL HERE ARE LONG COLLAPSED AND THOSE THAT COULD FLEE BACK TO THE HELLS RATHER THAN FACE STARVATION DID SO SOON AFTER THE BARRIERS WERE RAISED. SOME THAT REMAINED LOST THEIR LIVES FIGHTING THE LOCAL FAUNA. THERE WILL BE ENOUGH, BUT YOU SHOULD KNOW THE MEASURE OF YOUR TROOPS.”

  Sully kicked a rusted-out helmet from amidst the undergrowth. “Uh. Thanks. For all your help.”

  “I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR YOU, SHADOW-TWIN.”

  Sully shuddered. “There you go being creepy again. You can just say, ‘You are welcome.’ You don’t have to make every conversation into some ominous doom-laden—”

  “YOU ARE WELCOME.”

  “Thank you.”

  “YOU ARE WELCOME.”

  “Okay, that’s enough of that.”

  From the north there came a deep resonating sound something like a trumpet, assuming you had made the trumpet out of a giant squid. Mol Kalath startled. “THEY ARE MUSTERING. WE MUST MAKE HASTE OR WE WILL BE LEFT BEHIND.”

  She leapt onto the demon’s back and they took off at a sprint. It was only once they were in flight in the midst of the swarms of demons that Sully realized that mounting Mol Kalath hadn’t felt strange at all, but then the tiny feathers on the demon’s back seemed to twist and curl in her grip and the skin beneath shuddered appreciatively at her touch. At that, nausea bubbled up inside her and she swallowed it back down. “Eyes forward,” she muttered to herself.

  “EYES FORWARD,” Mol Kalath echoed back.

  Compared to the crossing from America, the English Channel was hardly worth noticing. At the pace at which the demons flew, there was just enough time to relay the battle plans, limited as they were, before land came into sight. Sully had never seen the White Cliffs of Dover before. Her time serving the Empire had always been out on the front lines and in the colonies. London overhung the cliffs, as unnatural looking as the demon-grown Manhattan could ever have aspired to. Here at the edge of the water, when whatever curse that kept it growing and spreading had found no more land, London had made a few feeble tries at bridges, and then had sprouted up into an ornate wall. Containing itself like a carcinoma. At the top of the wall, Sully could just barely make out the movement of redcoats scrambling around and over every inch of it. Frantically, they were raising defenses in a place where no defenses had been required for a lifetime.

 

‹ Prev