by G. D. Penman
Sully stared down at the abrupt ending of her left arm and felt her eyes burning. “I’ll try to get back to you with all the important parts attached. Can’t promise much more.”
Sully could hear Ogden coming back, surrounded by a cloud of attendant Magi. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I love you.”
“Love you too, darlin’. Don’t go doing anything stupid.”
Sully grinned. “Me? Never.”
Sully didn’t gamble. There were enough risks in her life that she didn’t feel the need for the artificial rush of squandering her cash on mathematically solvable games. Even so, she would have been willing to bet that the moment the signal was blocked, the abductions had stopped. Of course, there was no way to be sure, so she was left in limbo all day while she and Ogden took turns handing out orders to the units that they had patched together out of their remaining troops. Constables and the IBI were still scouring the Americas for new stocks, but even if they found them, there was no way to know when the damned things had arrived. It was infuriating. She wanted to know that she had won. She wanted to know that the Fae weren’t going to get their hands on anyone else.
By sunset she was almost vibrating with pent up energy, and every discussion turned into a screaming argument. The British would be in disarray after their failed attack, with nearly every redcoat in the whole of Ireland spent, and Sully was in favor of pushing that advantage and seizing cities as soon as possible. Ogden had more conservative plans. They had a solid position here, one that would be hard to assault, and he intended to use it as a command center to coordinate the arrival of the troops that their allies around the world had promised to commit. He was used to the slow pace of wartime logistics from his own time. Sully was not. She had a sneaking suspicion that if any of their so-called allies had had any intention of sending bodies for the meat grinder, then they would have already arrived. Meanwhile, she knew that she could build up a militia out of pissed-off Irishmen within a couple of days and have them trained and ready for use within a week.
Adding to her frustration was the nasty suspicion that this was all her mother’s idea. Every time she caught sight of Gormlaith as she dithered around, delivering tea and soup to the soldiers, the old woman gave her an approving nod. That nod was almost enough to convince Sully that she was on the wrong side. If her mother wanted to turn left, Sully’s gut told her to turn right. It wasn’t that the old woman was manipulative—not any more than the ocean was wet—she would just calmly and quietly lay out information and the conclusions that you reached happened to be the same ones that she had come to before the conversation even started.
When the wave of magic rolled over the camp, the regular soldiers didn’t notice, but every demon and Magus suddenly leapt to attention. The ambient magic had been sapped pretty thoroughly by all of the spells being flung around the day before and the demons had a habit of soaking up the rest, but suddenly it felt like the whole world was recharged. Sully and Ogden stopped bickering and stared at each other. “What the hell was that?”
Ogden shivered. “It feels like . . . It feels like Manhattan all over again. The purity of it. Like the source of magic just leapt closer.”
“There’s no way that’s good news.”
“None whatsoever.”
Seconds later the radio operators came barreling out of their tent screaming for attention, and the few Magi who had been trying to get past the blocks on scrying on London were doing the same. Ogden tried to guide them toward a private conversation in their tent, but Sully stood her ground with them in the middle of the camp. “These men were willing to die for us. They deserve to know what’s happening.”
“Sullivan, now is not the time for—”
She pointed at the closest radio operator. “What happened?”
He glanced nervously from Sully to the glowering Magus at her back, then mumbled, “I’m not sure.”
Sully growled. “You seemed pretty damned sure when you came wailing out of that tent. Now talk.”
“London is out of British control. I mean they’re fighting something in London. They broke radio silence. They’re trying to withdraw all their troops back to England. All of them, from everywhere in the Empire. They’re abandoning India. Abandoning Hong Kong. Everything.”
One of the Magi interrupted. “There is a portal in the center of London. It was heavily veiled against scrying. Even the name of the building is under a taboo but it has all been stripped away in the rush of power.”
“The Archive.” Sully nodded.
“Perhaps so. This portal seems to be the source of the sudden influx of magic, but that isn’t the only thing that’s coming through.”
“Deaf ears is what my warnings fell on.” Gormlaith croaked from amidst the crowd and every head turned. “The Fair Folk care nothing for trade, they’ve no honor to keep, they’ll just take what they want. Every choice you make has consequences, girl. Didn’t I tell you?”
Sully gritted her teeth. “Bring me Blackwood.”
Ogden, Gormlaith and Blackwood stood awkwardly in the midst of the press of bodies as a terrified bureaucrat that Ogden had portaled in frantically typed by lantern light beside them. Mol Kalath had been selected to represent the demons, but it seemed more intent on clinging to Sully than on speaking. She was forced to tangle her fingers in its feathers to stop it nudging at her. Even then, she could feel it vibrating beneath her hand. A circle of soldiers and Magi surrounded them, horror painted on their faces. A familiar horror to the Magi who had lived through Manhattan’s banishment to the Far Realms and a fresh horror for the soldiers who didn’t yet know that there was a whole universe of other planes out there. A whole universe filled with things that wanted them dead or worse.
Sully tried to keep her voice steady, but she could still remember the moments that she had spent with just one of the Fae. She couldn’t imagine the horrors that London was experiencing right now. “With their supply of fresh captives cut off, the Fae have broken through the Archive and are invading London. From there they will spread like locusts across the entire world.”
Mol Kalath spoke as softly as its anatomy allowed. “WE FLED TO ESCAPE THEIR INCURSIONS, AND THOSE WERE FEW AND FAR BETWEEN. THE FAE HAVE SHAPED OUR SHARED HISTORY. THEY DROVE US FROM OUR HOME WITH NOTHING BUT THE THREAT OF THEIR TOUCH. THEY DROVE US TO SEEK YOU OUT, TO SELL YOU THE BOUNTY OF OUR POWER FOR A CHANCE AT ESCAPE. IF THEY HAVE FOUND A PATH TO YOU, THEN HUMANITY IS DONE.”
Gormlaith crooned. “British called up what they can’t put down. Always knew they’d kill me. Never knew they’d kill us all.”
“My underlings will have attempted to negotiate a new arrangement when the summoning circle around the Americas was interrupted. It is possible that they were not entirely briefed on the correct protocol and on the reason that we do not invite the Fae directly onto our plane. They may have been overpowered and forced to open the portal back to London, but surely the city’s defenses will be more than enough to contain—”
Sully cut Blackwood off with a glare. “The British troops on the ground are being pushed out of London, or slaughtered wholesale. The Fae aren’t interested in renegotiating. They don’t care about deals. They just wanted a way in and now they’ve got that.”
He sank into sullen silence then begrudgingly nodded when he realized nobody else was going to speak. Sully pointed to the secretary. “Papers are getting drawn up. You are going to surrender, and as part of that surrender the mainland of Britain is going to become Irish territory. Not American. Irish. After this situation is dealt with, you can negotiate with the Irish provisional government to have it handed back to you.”
Blackwood bristled but he said nothing. Sully grimaced. “There aren’t going to be any more wishes. Not now. Not ever. The game of empires is over for all of you. The world we’ve got now is the only one we’re ever going to have, and I’m not going to let you throw it away over a bad dream that is
already over.” She held out her hand. “If we move now, there is a chance we can contain them before it’s too late. They’re bottlenecked in the Archive. If we hit them there and close the path, we can end this. What do you say? Want to go down in history as the man who saved the world?”
He stared down for a long time, then lifted his own manacled hands to take a hold of Sully’s.
“We shall be keeping our foreign territories and I will expect the negotiations after the fighting is done to acknowledge the sacrifices being made by the British Empire right now. Reparations shall have to be paid to the Empire from all parties, as you are all complicit in creating this situation.”
Sully tightened her grip until he winced. “Don’t worry. You’ll get exactly what you deserve.”
A Magus conjured a table and the frantic typing of the legal secretary that Ogden had dragged from New Amsterdam ground to a halt. The treaty she had been preparing was slapped down in front of them. Only a few soldiers were stupid enough to cheer when Blackwood scribbled his signature at the bottom. The war wasn’t over. It was just getting started.
Sully uncuffed Blackwood and passed off the manacles to one of the few technologists that the army had managed to recruit. That poor woman was set to the task of breaking them down and melting them into bullets. They wouldn’t make many, but any weapon that was guaranteed to kill the Fae was worth investing time in. The whole camp was a flurry of action as Ogden barked out new orders and started the arduous prep work for the portals that would send them into battle.
Sully laid out the basics of their strategy with Blackwood at her elbow, poring over the map of London, overlaid with the amorphous red blob of lost territory updated in real time by the radio operators and scrying Magi. A good quarter of central London—what Blackwood insisted was the original city—was already red. Judging from the reports, the Fae were snatching up civilians and combatants alike. Vanishing back down to their home plane once enough had been gathered. Travel down through the planes toward the source was relatively painless compared to the difficulty of making a dimensional breach in the other direction, or so the Magi conveying the intelligence said. The Fae didn’t need to hold the territory; any humans that rushed into it were just making the next round of abductions faster. Faeries were only spreading when the streets that they had claimed were stripped of life. Once the bare bones of a plan were laid out, Sully pushed her way past all the officers and tag-alongs until she was outside. There was a pull deep in her stomach that led her through the crowds until Mol Kalath came into sight. It was lurking in the shadow of Gormlaith’s cottage, which had somehow weathered the morning’s battle without a scratch.
“GREETINGS, SHADOW-TWIN.”
Sully closed the artificial distance that she had been holding between them and did what she had wanted to from the start, rubbing a hand along the side of the demon’s beak. Soothing the tremors running through it. “Hey, big bird. How’re you doing?”
“I AM WELL, SHADOW-TWIN. I HUNGER FOR THIS BATTLE. I HUNGER FOR SLAUGHTER.” Demonic voices did not quaver the way that a human’s might, but there was a stiffness in Mol Kalath’s guttural growl that was unfamiliar.
“You’re shitting yourself?”
The demon cocked its head to one side. “THIS BODY I HAVE FORGED CANNOT—”
“I mean, you’re scared.”
It puffed up its feathers. “FEAR? WE ARE THE VANGUARD OF HELL. WE FEAR NOTHING.”
“You literally fled your own plane of existence to get away from these guys . . .” Sully trailed off.
“THAT WAS NOT FEAR. THAT WAS . . . IT WAS . . .”
“It’s all right. I’m not going to tell anyone.”
Its feathers smoothed down suddenly, slimming its profile until it was only three times the size of the first time Sully had seen it. “MY KIN WISH TO LEAVE. THEY BELIEVE THAT THE RARE BREACHES THAT THE PALE ONES MAKE INTO OUR HOME HELLS WILL BE EASIER TO ENDURE THAN WHAT IS COMING HERE.”
Sully sighed. “They’re probably right.”
“SOME WISH TO FLEE NOW. OTHERS WISH TO GRANT YOU A WARNING FIRST. A LAST FACTION WISH TO OFFER YOUR KIND SHELTER IN THE HELLS. THOUGH THEY ARE FEW IN NUMBER.”
“And what about you?” She tugged at its feathers, turning its eyes to face her.
“I DO NOT RUN.”
Sully laughed. “Okay, maybe you are me.”
“AS I HAVE ALWAYS SAID.”
A group of soldiers rushed by, hauling crates of ammunition to the portal stations that were being set up under Gormlaith’s watchful stare. Once they were past, Sully pressed her forehead to Mol Kalath’s. Its voice vibrated through her. “DEMONS ARE NOT LIKE YOU. WE ARE ETERNAL. IF WE DO NOT STAND HERE THEN WE WILL ALWAYS BE RUNNING UNTIL THERE IS NOWHERE LEFT TO RUN. WE HAVE ALREADY SPENT AN ETERNITY ALONE WITH THE PALE ONES, JUST WAITING FOR THE TIME WHEN WE ARE THE ONES THAT THEY TAKE.” The demon’s shaking stopped abruptly. “NOW, FOR THE FIRST TIME, WE ARE NOT ALONE. WE STAND TOGETHER, IONA. DEMONS AND HUMANS. YOU AND I. WE ARE STRONGER AS ONE.”
Sully leaned back. “Think you can convince some of your demon buddies of that?”
Mol Kalath wheezed and crackled with laughter again. “SOME, PERHAPS.”
“Then tell the rest that they’re free to go. This is a volunteer army.”
The demon took a step back to look her up and down. “MERE HOURS BEFORE YOU WADE INTO BATTLE, YOU STILL LET MORALITY GUIDE YOUR COURSE. YOU WOULD LET THE ADVANTAGE OF HAVING A COHORT OF DEMONS AT YOUR BACK PASS YOU BY?”
“There’s no advantage in having an army you can’t trust. If they don’t want to be here, they’ll find a way not to be, quick enough, and then my battle plans will have a hole in them big enough to drive a train through.”
“YOU TWIST EVERY VIRTUE INTO A SIN. YOU ARE NO CYNIC, IONA. I HAVE SEEN HOW YOU LOOK AT THESE SOLDIERS. THEY ARE LIKE YOUR CHILDREN.”
“Even when you dress them up in uniforms and hand them weapons, they’re just people.” Sully smirked. “Which means they’ll fuck up as much as humanly possible and then expect me to pick up after them. I suppose that isn’t much different from children.”
Ogden cleared his throat behind her. “Sullivan, we are ready to begin.”
Mol Kalath took flight and, as Sully watched, it rose up in a great spiral, catching other demons in its wake and croaking out her message. She didn’t know how many demons were going to stay, and she didn’t have the time to find out. She faced Ogden and almost laughed when she realized that he had slipped on one of the uniform jackets instead of his greatcoat. Between that and the tricorn hat he had never parted with, he looked like something out of the history books. If the day went their way, then they would all be in the history books, she supposed. Immortalized on paper, never to be rewritten again. She nodded. “I’m ready when you are.”
November 16, 2015
They weren’t fool enough to portal right into enemy territory. Blackwood had been on the radio firing off messenger spells in every direction since the moment that Sully had left him, so the British should have known that they were coming as allies, but there was no guarantee that there wouldn’t be a bloodbath wherever they arrived. Still, Sully liked their odds against some battered and terrified redcoats a lot better than their chances against the Fae, and if the ambush at camp had shown anything, it was that jumping into battle without knowing the lay of the land was a good way to get shot in the back. Sully took Mol Kalath and two of the Magi with her squad, a gnarled Frenchman who had been ancient even before his trip to the Far Realms, and a rotund African woman who had started out life as a baker in old Manhattan. She wasn’t sure how their magic would fare against the Fae, given that demons weren’t even close to as powerful and could swallow spells like breadcrumbs. If nothing else, these Magi had held out against the Fae on their home turf for a good few centuries in the fortifications of Manhattan. Sully was fairly certain that they wanted a taste of revenge,
if nothing else. Sully didn’t ask their names and they didn’t offer them. It would probably be easier that way. The soldiers looked terrified from the moment they landed in the smog-shrouded streets, but they’d probably fare better than all the witches in the world in the same position. After all, every one of them had a cold iron bullet in their pistol and Sully knew from experience that that particular metal did the job.
Evacuation had already hit this part of town. Knowing how limited their time was going to be, Sully had picked destinations for the portals that were perilously close to the edge of the Fae’s new domain without quite encroaching on them, assuming that their intelligence was good. Sully held still and silent for a long moment with her hand resting against Mol Kalath, waiting for orders, before she remembered that she was the one giving them. Frenchie conjured a little map that aligned itself to the street beneath them, and they set off into the heart of London without a backward glance.
Without knowing how acute the Fae’s magical detection was, the different squads didn’t dare to contact each other, so for all that Sully knew hers were already the only survivors of the offensive. The last time she had passed through London, the sheer mass of living people within it had been almost overwhelming. Now it was desolate in its silence. Every footstep echoed off the towering buildings as they made their way through the valleys of concrete and stone. Sully hoped that the citizens had gotten away, but with every new hint it got less likely. Here was a stone column, warped into a spiral by the touch of some strange magic. There the cobblestones were drifting up to float in the air. In one street there was no air at all, and they had to rapidly backtrack out of the vacuum and find another way around before they all suffocated. That had led them to traipse through one of the abandoned houses.
The table was set and there was food blackening and smoking in pots atop the oven that they passed as they made their way to the back door. Mol Kalath scrambled up and over the building, trying to catch sight of the enemy ahead of time and seeing nothing but more of the endless strangeness that the Fae had left in their wake. A forest of mushrooms had grown up in one of the city’s few parks and huge brightly colored lizards were leaping amongst the towering fungi with skin-flap wings. When it was reported back to her, Sully hoped that they were constructs rather than transformed people, but life as a leaping lizard sounded pretty sweet compared to any amount of time in the tender care of the Fae.
