by Harry Nix
It was a fortress, an improbable thing to be hidden in suburbia.
As the rune spell destroyed the ward, Alex counted three hundred Ignis mages within. They were teeming like ants, struggling to keep the ward intact.
There was a period of nothingness but then he finally came out of it. The black rune spell was gone, the ward destroyed.
Alex struggled to his feet, helped up by April and Nia. He was surprised to see his flesh intact but then noticed the piles of dead rings scattered around them. Alex took a step, felt pain shoot up his leg, and almost toppled.
“Just give it a minute. The ward’s down and the other packs are attacking, but you still need healing,” Nia said. They helped him down the street, Alex bringing up his spell screen, reading the list of injuries. They'd all been to his flesh, and although they were somewhat healed now, quite a lot of damage been done to the veins in his body.
Alex did the best he could, drawing on the nature around him, which seemed almost eager to help heal his body. The closer they came to the fortress, the better Alex felt, and soon his natural mana had begun to recover as he drew on nature, filling the bar to the top.
It was close to five now, and on the horizon, the first glimmers of the sun were appearing.
Together, they turned a corner and Alex saw the building down the street. It was gigantic and imposing, the high stone fence topped with spikes. Even from where he was, he could feel the death within, a lake of it.
Alex drew on it, filling his death mana to the top in an instant. He charged up his healing flame spell with it, the flame turning pure black and icy cold before touching his leg. The remainder of his wounds healed in a few seconds.
April touched his arm and her eyes widened.
“Just be careful with the dead. There are other things there too,” she said.
“I am,” he murmured. When drawing on the dead he’d become aware of the corpses behind the walls. There were at least a hundred and fifty dead already, mages and werewolves both.
Alex took off with Nia and April, running the last half mile. As they came closer, Alex's sense of the dead grew stronger. He’d never felt anything like it. It was a cool sea that he could drink from. He only knew one necromancy spell, minor necromancy, with which he could revive something the size of a dog, a cat, or a chicken. Alex wasn't quite sure what would happen if he directed it into one of the bodies. He pushed the urge to do it aside. He had to find Juno and the rest of his pack first.
They found an outer door that had been smashed off its hinges and rushed inside, Nia and Alex quickly transforming into hybrid form. There were flames everywhere as werewolves and mages fought to the death.
Alex cast flame shield, charging it with death. It burst from his body, surrounding him with black flames that roared as they snapped and moved.
April and Nia used their rings to cast their weaker flame shields to protect them against the Ignis mages.
Like the shock finger rings, the flame shield rings didn't have many charges but the werewolves of his pack were using them to great effect. The fire mages were useless against them, flinging fireballs that just bounced off the shields, seeming sometimes to fuel them.
Alex and Nia immediately dived toward a group of five fire mages who were desperately flinging spells. Three of them had wands and the others were just using their natural magic. As they raced towards them, vines burst out of the ground, trapping their legs, disrupting their spellcasting. Alex could barely hear April's chimes over the screaming and the flames.
He hit the first mage, his claws sparking off a shield spell but managing to knock him over. Alex slashed away, quickly breaking through the shield and disemboweling him. Nia was doing the same. April's vines had climbed legs, crushing as they went. One of the mages screamed as his foot twisted off and tore away. He went down, falling into more vines, one of which crept around his neck as he thrashed. His scream was cut off as the vine constricted.
Alex looked up and saw Wind on a high walkway. His pure blond fur was stained with blood but he otherwise appeared uninjured. He leaped from the walkway, dropping a good twenty feet to crash a mage into the ground. There was a crack as the mage’s shield ring overloaded and shattered, tearing away some of his fingers.
Wind tore off his head before he could scream and then rushed to the next mage.
Jacob was on the far side of the compound, soaked in blood, slashing away at mages like a demon. Alex cringed as the kid was flung sideways into a stone column, hit with some unseen spell, but he bounced back up, killing the mage who’d cast it.
The fighting descended into pure madness. From there on out it was a blur of claws and blood and spells. Alex kept drawing on the death around them, putting his shock finger spell to work, incapacitating mages, letting other werewolves finish them off.
He found River at one point with his chest crushed, nearly dead, and drew on the death surrounding him to plunge a foot-long flame into his body. There was an audible crack as his ribs healed and soon the werewolf was on his feet again.
Alex was vaguely aware that before he’d arrived, the mages and werewolves had been roughly matched in strength. Now he waded amongst them, black flames burning all over his body, killing a mage every few seconds.
The tide of the battle turned and it seemed the last of the mages fell all at once. Alex caught glimpses of both Darius and Simak, bloody to the elbows, tearing the last mages to pieces.
Alex found himself suddenly with no enemy to fight, standing in a pool of blood. He let his flame shield wisp away.
“Alex, look!”
It was April, beside him. She was covered in blood too and had long gashes over one eye but otherwise seemed okay. She was pointing at the main building and a small barred window at ground level.
It was frosted over, a filigree of ice climbing outward.
“Juno,” Alex said.
He took off, vaguely sensing some of his pack following.
He obliterated the door with a kick, smashing his way inside. There were no mages—they’d all gone to the battle.
Feeling the connection to his little witch mate, Alex raced down a corridor and a set of stairs.
He only realized Nia was with him when she shot by, crashing through another set of doors into a room of prison cells. She immediately tumbled over, as the floor was slick with ice.
Alex managed to keep his balance, his claws scraping up ice as he slid to a stop in front of the cell.
Juno was sitting in the stone cell, cross-legged, hands in front of her. She was mage-cuffed and both wrists were burning, glowing hot, steam pouring off them, the heat battling with the cold as she let her chaos magic free. In an adjacent cell were Pearl, Yvonne and Esme. They were bound and had clearly been beaten black and blue.
The rage inside Alex leaped and nearly took over at the sight of them all.
He drew on it, grabbing the solid metal door and heaving it with all his strength. It protested and he felt his hands burning under the cold, but then the hinges smashed free, weakened by the ice.
It was then that Juno opened her eyes and held out her hands. There was a final crack as the mage cuffs broke in the middle and dripped off to the ground, molten metal letting off a cloud of steam as it hit the icy floor.
“About time, White Fang,” Juno said, leaping up and diving on Alex.
14
After freeing Esme, Pearl, and Yvonne and drawing on the death to fuel the healing flame to heal their wounds, there was no time for a reunion.
Outside, Darius, Simak and Wind were facing off against each other, the packs growling and snapping, ready to fight.
Alex rushed out and saw a small circle of captured Ignis mages, maybe ten or so, cowering before the werewolves and stripped of their robes. Most of them were bleeding heavily, their old burn scars opened up by sharp claws.
“It's mine,” Wind growled and then turned to face Alex and his pack. “Oh, here he is. The werewolf mage who keeps the best magic for himself. Why di
dn't we have any flame shields?”
Alex could feel the cold lake of death surrounding him but then he caught something else. It was like a thread, but elusive, as though if he focused on it, it would slip away. For a moment, it seemed as though every werewolf in the area was joined by a strand thinner than silk. If he just knew how, he’d be able to draw on it… or perhaps command them.
He could even feel Wind, a whirling rage. The crazed werewolf wanted the fortress for his own.
“I only just invented it, that's why,” Alex growled, looking around.
Scattered around them were so many dead. Close to three hundred Ignis mages. Body parts on every surface. Mages with their throats torn out, heads and limbs missing. Some appeared to be unharmed, lying as though they were just asleep, but of course the blood leaking out onto the cobblestones told the real story. Mixed in amongst them were the werewolf dead. At a quick glance, Alex estimated at least fifty dead easily.
“You call us to battle, and then arrive with your joke pack right at the end. How small is your pack, mage?” Wind snarled. The contempt in his voice was palpable, especially when he said the word mage. He spat a gobbet of blood, not exactly at Alex but close enough.
Darius and Simak were watching this, seeing what Alex would do.
“We’ve won. We haven't destroyed Ignis but we have killed almost three hundred of their mages and we did it by four packs working together. We don't need to be at each other’s throats. If we cooperated like them, we could wipe out every mage in Baxter, every vampire too, take their land for our own and get back every piece of territory that was stolen from werewolves,” Alex said. He was trying to stay calm, but the chant of the death mana was starting to echo in his ears. There was just so much of it here and so readily available. It would be something he needed to remember for the future, when they eventually came up against Xavo, that the more dead there were, the more powerful the necromancers would become.
Wind snarled then spat on the ground again. Alex resisted the urge to leap on him, seeing that Darius and Simak were barely holding themselves back also. Although the werewolf side of him wanted to fight, to dominate, to tear Wind to pieces and claim his pack and territory for his own, and then move on whoever opposed him, the other side, the human side, was giving a running commentary on how idiotic werewolves must be if after a successful battle, they immediately turned on each other. If they couldn't hold it together now, perhaps they deserved everything the mages and vampires dished out.
On impulse, Alex pulled up his spell screen and the fireball spell. He immediately duplicated it, cutting out code and dropping in the lightning bolt symbol.
The execute button lit up.
Aware that this could be recklessly stupid, he cast it, drawing on the death magic to fuel it.
A crackling ball of cold, black electricity appeared in his hand, swiftly growing to the size of a basketball. Looking directly at Wind, he then threw it into the midst of the captured Ignis mages.
He hit one in the chest. The electricity coursed down his body and into the pool of blood he was kneeling in, before snapping to the next mage.
There was a crack like a branch snapping and half the mages died in an instant, their hearts stopped dead. The rest fell and jittered on the stones, their muscles clenching.
Alex pulled on the death once more and cast the spell again, another ball forming in the palm of his hand.
“We're going to take this fortress for our own, for werewolves. It will be like the slipways—owned by none and owned by all. Between our four packs, we can keep at least a hundred werewolves here at all times, and I will supply them with rings of every magic I invent. No one pack shall own it,” he said.
He became aware that some of his pack had edged away from him, except for Juno, Nia, and April. He could see Nia out of the corner of his eye in hybrid form, her tail waving dangerously. She and the other two had looked back at Alex a few times now, wild with joy at the power of the alpha.
The Great Barrier hit at that moment, a brief stab, and every supernatural in the area cringed. Alex, for a breathless moment, almost dropped the ball of electricity. The source of it was immediately apparent. A police officer who’d come through one of the ruined doors. The Great Barrier must've gone to work on him. He looked but looked away.
Despite seeing the werewolves, the carnage and death and the Ignis mages shuddering and gulping air on the ground, he turned on his heel and walked away.
Alex took this as a tension breaker, turning his attention away from Wind, realizing the volatile werewolf might do something incredibly stupid like attack him and then he would have to tear him to pieces and who knew how that might end up. Alex walked up a small set of steps that were slick with blood, still holding the ball of electricity.
“The normals are coming, and the Great Barrier might work a little, but it’s going to hurt us as well. We shore up the door, start to hide or dispose of the bodies, divide up any money or valuables we find, and then we keep this fortress. It's ours, and if you agree to ally with me, I will find us another and we will take that too,” Alex said.
Standing atop the steps, the magic now reasonably calm, deep under the pool of death, Alex caught that elusive feeling once more. There was something there. Perhaps a magic or something else. It was similar to drawing on the nature magic and becoming aware of every tree and flower in the immediate area. Alex knew, without looking, that there was a cluster of six werewolves behind him, belonging to Darius’s pack and that one of them had a broken arm.
He took a deep breath and pressed, exerting his will on that elusive feeling. It felt as dangerous as standing on a piece of soap in a wet shower and trying to balance. If he gave it too much, it would crash, and he’d hurt himself and fail. Too little and he would fail also.
Degree by degree, feeling it as a pressure in his mind, he felt the attitude of the werewolves around him beginning to change. He knew Darius and Simak weren't as crazed as Wind and their packs followed them, their disposition more accepting of his offer. As the faint feeling gathered momentum, he could feel it working on what remained of Wind’s pack, pushing on them, and they in turn pushed on their alpha. Alex was afraid to speak lest it broke whatever this new magic was, but after a moment more, it had swept through the werewolves, washing back and forth, bending them slowly to his will.
“We’re taking the prisoners with us, though,” Wind said with a snarl, looking at the remaining Ignis mages that were still alive. Alex knew this was a face-saving move, one he was happy to give Wind.
He turned and threw the ball of electricity at the wall, the black lightning arcing across it.
Alex didn’t give any instructions then but instead turned to heal the werewolf with the broken arm.
There was a quiet pause before the assembled werewolves began moving, piling up the dead and finding something to shore up the external doors. As Alex worked, he heard the faint chime of April doing the same, and the familiar pull of Juno’s magic.
They’d won. Juno was saved and others too. The cost had been paid in blood, but with his magic, the werewolves had overwhelmed the Ignis mages.
Such an attack surely would bring retribution and the cold part of Alex welcomed it.
15
Knox was already shouting, even as the golems formed.
“Three hundred Ignis mages dead!”
“Titus,” Titus said, crossing his arms, already on the defensive.
Prince and Eric's golems formed next. Prince sat down on a small throne made out of clay. Eric remained standing. It was obvious the wound on his side was still troubling him, although to Prince it looked like he was moving a little easier.
“Now the werewolves are holding it. Four packs! They didn't turn on each other,” Knox roared.
Titus waved his arm at Eric. “He's in deep with one of those packs. Why don’t you ask him how it happened?” he snarled.
Knox's rage was white-hot, and although it was mainly focused on Titus, he turned to
Eric.
“What is the point of embedding you within a pack if it just comes up against mages anyway?”
There was silence as Eric glared back at Knox and then looked to Titus.
“I told you to kill him with overwhelming force. Now he is grown powerful. If you have any sense at all, send every mage you can to hunt him down… right now. Burn Baxter to the ground if you need to,” Eric said.
“The vampires are willing to serve,” Prince said, although there was a slightly mocking tone in his voice. Vampires were never willing to serve, and even if it appeared they were, it was always to fulfill their own agenda.
Knox turned to face Titus. Although the face of his golem was mottled clay, the sneer of contempt on it was clear.
“I want you to go to Baxter. You personally. Take your pain mages and kill Alex Lowe,” he said.
Prince watched with interest as Titus stared back at Knox. They were both the heads of their respective enclaves. Knox was in control of Tradinium, the largest and most powerful enclave. Titus, the pain mage, controlled Corvus. Although, technically, they were equal, in reality, Tradinium called the shots, made the plays, and the smaller weaker enclaves fell in line. The games the mages played were very much like the ones the vampires did. Games of pressure and slow power. It was a soft push that became diamond hard. Rarely were direct commands given as that broke the unspoken agreement that, in fact, all of the enclaves were equal. Prince saw Titus let out a breath and his body language change.
“After the failure of Ignis to destroy Alex Lowe,” Titus said, looking at Prince as he spoke, “Corvus have decided to take this matter into our own hands. We shall be sending a thousand mages to Baxter, and I personally will oversee them,” he said.
Knox said nothing for a moment before finally nodding in agreement. It was then that Eric spoke up again. “We need to remove the bounty on Alex. Each random attack is another blow of the forging hammer simply making him stronger. Kill him all at once or not at all,” he said.
