by Tao Wong
Which was why I had three twelve-by-twelve-grid mahogany wooden frames in hand with a series of carved wooden ward blocks already inserted for a force barrier and a ziplock bag of other “code blocks” ready to alter the spell. None of the blocks were as strong as a purpose-built ward of course, but it was infinitely more flexible. No longer did I have to carry around a single block for each specific spell. I could adjust the blocks as needed.
Though I also grabbed three of my one-use blocks, ones that threw up force walls, and added them to the side pockets of my bag. Sometimes disposable wards were good. On that note, I added an inscription pen, one that I could use on most materials to carve wards into barriers.
When I looked at the corner, I spotted my staff. The staff was a new project—a long, painstaking project—and my graduation examination from Caleb. Once I finished carving it, I was to pass it to Caleb and the rest of the Mage examination committee who, if they were satisfied, would graduate me into a full apprentice of the Council. Lily found the idea of a graduation amusing and insulting at the same time, noting that in many ways, I was well past any apprentice Mage. Though even the jinn would agree that I still lacked a bit in the theoretical side. My theoretical knowledge was patchy due to the way information was passed to me by Lily.
In either case, the staff wasn’t complete. I’d added a bunch of Force and Elemental multipliers throughout the staff, making any spell of that form that I cast through it much more powerful. There was also space for a Mana battery, though I’d yet to find a Mana source I wanted to add to the staff. Or, well, a Mana battery that I could afford. On top of that, there was the usual array of Link and Scry spells to ensure that no one could steal the staff and get away with it. But major spells were still on hold—partly till I was confident enough to carve them in.
“Anyway, don’t need the extra firepower,” I muttered as I glanced at my hands. I could cast any spell I knew far faster than any appropriately Leveled Mage that I knew. Speed was my advantage, which was why the staff was geared toward offering power. And unless I was intent on blowing up a building, I didn’t need the staff.
Once I’d mentally confirmed that I wasn’t going to blow up a building, the only other thing to do was grab defensive equipment. I had two major methods of defense. First was my warded jacket. Of course, I’d been stabbed in the chest while wearing it, but that was as much because I hadn’t zipped it up as any fault of the jacket. And second was…
“This still seems a little girly,” I said, looking at the corded bracelet I’d beaded and woven before I slipped it on. Looking like a cross between a fifth-grader’s friendship bracelet—with its bright colors and pretty beads—and a cheap tourist knickknack, the spelled and warded bracelet allowed me to conjure a temporary full-body ward. The hand-woven portion had allowed me to imbue my aura into the bracelet itself, while the individually engraved colored and metallic beards directed the force ward. It was the most powerful enchanted equipment I’d ever made, and it showed.
I just wished it wasn’t that colorful.
Geared and dressed, I walked downstairs to find Alexa ready. The woman looked no different than she usually did in her work clothes. An exercise-shirt-cum-bra both lifted and compressed while keeping the chaffing from her thin Kevlar-and-chainmail combination to a minimum. A dark blue shirt, untucked to hide the gun she carried at the small of her back, and the enchanted bracers completed her ensemble on the top. Blousy pants hid space for knives in her boots and padded workout bottoms while also offering comfort—just like her flat, arched boots.
“Ready?” I said.
“Yeah,” Alexa said as she lifted her gym bag. A gym bag that contained a variety of other pointy and bangy toys. Of course, a simple ward on the top of the bag made sure that even if we were pulled over, no law enforcement officer would ever pay attention to it.
“Let’s go. See you, Lily.” I waved goodbye to the jinn, who offered one too.
Chapter 3
In the end, we went to the only people who might know who’d hired someone to kill me. The Dark Court. Or the Council of Shadows and Dark Races, as it was officially known. With that kind of name, you’d think they would be dangerous. And some were. There was only so much you could say when you needed to drink blood or eat bodies to survive. Even if they played by the rules—taking donations, hanging out in goth clubs, or running mortuaries—members did slip up. And when they did, bad things happened. Mostly to other people until someone, like the Court’s enforcers or the Templars, caught them.
Locally, the Court was one of our moderate-sized powers. Most of their members tended to live in big cities, finding the gaps which humanity fell through perfect for them. Large cities let them build subcultures and groups that rarely, if ever, interacted with the rest of society. Smaller cities made it harder, and villages… Well, let’s just say there was a reason their numbers had declined significantly until the recent population boom. Even now, the number of vampires, ghouls, pengallan, and more were on the lower end.
Hopping out of Alexa’s tiny blue car with its impressive trunk space, I craned my neck to stare at the back of the club. We’d parked in the open parking lot next to the club, behind the fenced-off area reserved for staff. An automatic glance picked out the half-dozen closed circuit cameras on the brick building, a slightly faded mural of a dark, oppressive woods at night facing me. It was an impressive work, more so when viewed through my Mana Sight. The mural itself helped hide the numerous enchantments painted on the wall, the runes of protection, detection, and reinforcement blending right into the swirling mass. It took me about ten minutes to note that there was no way I’d be able to pierce their defenses, not at my current level of understanding.
“Henry?” Alexa asked.
“Just checking out the building,” I said, squinting and dismissing the vision.
The late afternoon sun beat down upon me, making me blink rapidly as my eyesight restored to normal. It was unseasonably hot for a late autumn day, which was annoying, especially since half of my protections were sewn and inscribed into my coat. Unfortunately, I’d run out of space for a cooling ward, meaning that wearing it in the heat was sweaty and uncomfortable.
It was no wonder that so many Mages dressed like professionals with suits and trench coats—the extra layers of social formality and professionalism were a perfect cover for the enchantments and protections we all wore. However, as much as I could understand that line of reasoning, I refused to give up my sense of style. If I’d wanted to look like a constipated professional, I would have become an accountant like my parents had insisted. No. I’d sweat in my stylish black leather jacket.
“Come on, you’ve been here before,” Alexa said, grabbing my arm and dragging me forward. She stopped after a moment and frowned, tilting her head as she looked at me. “You have been here before, right?”
“To the most stylish, expensive, and loud club in the city?” I said, looking at Alexa as if she was crazy.
After a moment, Alexa let out a chuff of laughter. “Right. Sorry. Forgot I was talking to the introvert.”
“Not that much. I have gone to clubs…” I paused as Alexa rapped on the employees’ entrance, the heavy security door offering a muffled reply to her insistent knocking. “But this one’s a bit out of my range. I don’t think they’d let me in even the back door if this wasn’t the day.”
“It’s not that bad,” Alexa muttered as the door buzzed and she opened it.
Within, the club employees’ entrance was filled with metal shelving holding everything from additional tablecloths, cardboard boxes of unknown contents, and cleaning supplies. The boring cream walls were a stark contrast to the glamorous main club floor, or at least, I thought so. It wasn’t as if I had ever entered the club floor. As Alexa turned the corner and opened the door to the staircase leading to the basement, I noted that I wouldn’t see it this time either. And if I felt a flash of disappointment, I pushed it aside. It was only a minor disappointm
ent, one borne from having been kept out of places like this due to my class and lack of funds.
Down, down we went. We passed the mundane basement that contained all the wine, beer, stage equipment, and other goods required to keep a club of this size running. We did not stop, but to keep heading down, we had to be buzzed through the heavy security door and then again through another entrance at the bottom of the staircase. Behind the second security door was a small anteroom filled by a trio of cyclops.
For once, I was amused to note that the cyclops did not disappoint my old gamer geek instincts. Each of the cyclops was bald—mostly by choice, true, but bald nonetheless—singular of ocular persuasion, and muscled like a heavyweight bodybuilder. The only major disruption from my geek fantasy was the pair of shotguns pointed at me. At least the leader carried a club—an enchanted asp—but it did nothing to stop the sudden outbreak of cold sweat across my back.
“Alexa. The Warlock Tsien. You are expected. But I fear we must check you both,” the lead cyclops said, walking forward while he held his hand down by his side.
“Sure, Nicos,” Alexa said, stepping forward, only for me to pull her back.
“No. We’ll see the Council without a search,” I said, my voice flat. “We won’t let you subject us to such an indignity.”
“Henry, it’s fine. That’s the way we do things here,” Alexa said, looking affronted at my sudden bout of stubbornness. “And Nicos won’t do anything. It’ll just take a minute.”
“When you’re working for them, that’s fine. But we’re here on my business,” I said, eyes narrowing at Nicos, who had stopped and was no longer moving forward. “And as such, I expect us to be treated like the powers we are.”
“Powers?” Nicos said, his single eye dripping with as much condescension as his voice.
“Ex-Templar Initiate Alexa Dumough and Mage Henry Tsien. Individuals with the strength to break all three of you without breaking a sweat,” I said, stepping aside from Alexa and offering the trio a cold smile. “And while I can’t guarantee I could take your Council, they can’t touch us either. As they know.”
Nicos’s lips pursed in anger, but I heard a voice chirp in his ear. I saw the change in his demeanor as orders were passed over the guard’s earpiece and the cyclops stepped back. A jerk of Nicos’s head indicated we could pass even as the door out of the anteroom opened.
Behind the door was a new sight. The creature was dressed in a butler’s traditional costume, but that did little to hide the lines of stitching that held its body together. Its skin was patchy, portions of different-colored skin stitched together to keep the creature in one piece, giving it a patchwork and pallid continence. As I stepped past the creature, my nose wrinkled as I caught the scent of formaldehyde and rot. The stench brought back memories of my grandfather’s funeral, of his once strong, lively body laid out for the wake. The smell was only lacking incense smoke to complete the triumvirate.
“Welcome, Mage Tsien,” the creature said, affecting a clean mid-Atlantic accent, spoiled only by the slightest lisp.
“Thank you,” I said, stepping aside to let the sulking Alexa stomp in. I winced, knowing I’d have to deal with her later. Showing her up and putting her in an awkward position in her place of work would cost me. Probably about three ice cream sundaes. But for now, I had more important things to watch for. Like… “You’re a Frankenstein, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” the creature said. “Bronislav at your service.”
“Good to meet you, Bronislav,” I said. “I’m surprised the Council has you. No offense meant. Just that, well.”
“Most of my brothers and sisters have perished, yes,” Bronislav said. “And few are created now. At least, not by the traditional methods.”
“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “There are more… experiments?”
“Always,” Bronislav said. “But the new ones, they are not Frankensteins, you know?”
“I think I do,” I said as I recalled one pizza-filled late night when Lily had waxed eloquent on the different types of magical reincarnations. Alexa had her head canted to the side, listening a little to our discussion.
The Frankensteins were their very own kind, distinct from zombies, ghouls, vampires, and other magical undead. They were not empty husks given locomotion or spirits who were drawn back into rotting bodies to keep them in motion. Instead, the Frankensteins were a new form of life, given life itself in the throes of magic and science mixing, spontaneously formed through the doctor’s alchemical mixture and the combination of lightning.
Newer methods of extending life via reincarnating the dead sought to bring back the dead. Unfortunately, more recent successes were but improvements upon the older forms of magic—spirits housed in less rotting bodies. Or in some cases, bodies jumpstarted and patched together to allow the spirits to survive. Revenants in bodies held together only by magic. But they were not new life.
What the doctor did was, as Lily waxed eloquent, a matter of chance and genius. Since then, spirits were drawn in, combinations of alchemical potions used, but to no avail. Life, like the Frankensteins’s, refused to return. Refused to be born again. But knowing that it was possible, always did others seek to replicate the doctor’s methods.
“This way.” Bronislav walked us down the lounge.
Now that I was not looking at the Frankenstein, I could take in the room properly. The basement was more cigar lounge than hip-hop dance floor, with plush leather chairs, small coffee tables, and dark chrome everywhere. That there were few residents within was no surprise—like their namesakes, most of the members of the Dark Council were nocturnal by nature. In short order, we passed the bar and lounge and entered another hallway—this one more opulently done with red cushioned walls and dim lighting—to be led to a smaller room.
This room, unlike the previous ones, was a bare room, lit with fluorescent tubes and consisting of a single long conference table behind which the Council sat. That there were no chairs for us was a reminder that we were appellants. That a discreet but large drain was set in the middle of the floor very near where we stood was ominous. As were the dark discolorations around the drain itself. Rumors of self-run trials and punishments rose in my memory, and from Alexa’s sudden wariness, in hers too.
“Never been here,” Alexa said, her hand dropping to her side. I knew she carried her knives there, having abandoned her spear since we weren’t here to fight. No matter how aggressive I might be.
“Doubt they bring good employees here,” I said.
“I shall see you out when you’re done.” Bronislav bows to me and steps aside, leaving us to stare at the silhouettes seated behind the table. As the Frankenstein begins to walk away, he stops and adds, “And Mage Tsien?”
“Yes?”
“You are always welcome to visit the actual club. The bouncers will let you in. Though we do hope you’d dress appropriately,” Bronislav said as he backed off, leaving us to deal with the Council.
Three figures sat behind the table—the Chairman and two others. The Chair I actually knew from having lit one of his family’s weddings early on in my career. Eleventh wedding, and of that, a half dozen of those were to the same person. Vampires had altered the entire “death do us part” section of their vows, going instead for “till half a century has passed.” After all, when you theoretically could live for eternity and were undead, a lifelong commitment became… challenging. And so marriages—or re-marriages—were a big thing among them. Having a Mage create the effect of daylight—without the burning and searing and death—was a mark of status.
Status, but not a lot of payment. Truth be told, I hadn’t realized exactly how important it was back then and was taken for a ride, paid a pittance for what we did. But you lived and learned. In either case, the Chair was a known quantity, the oldest vampire in the city. Due to his age and wisdom—and yes, wealth—he ran the Council, but was known to be mostly diplomatic about matters.
The other two we
re unknown. One was a Native American, his skin the color of dark clay, eyes with a weight of blackest marble. Hair that fell just below his shoulders was held back by a simple stone hairband, and beside him, a cane sat. Beside the almost-normal-looking Native American was a full-blown green troll, a creature you could never see in normal daylight without a glamour. Green skin, at least nine feet tall, warts and big teeth were all present. As was a simple set of dark robes and a pair of glasses perched on its bulbous nose.
“Mage Tsien. Alexa,” the Chair—Roland—said neutrally, greeting us as we approached and stood under the lights.
Now that we were in position, the trio lit up properly. If it wasn’t for the fact that I could see the flow of power, the way Mana and light were manipulated to first put them in shadow, and now make us squint while revealing them fully, I’d be a little more impressed. Same with the way their words seemed to echo through the chamber. Tricks. But effective tricks, if you didn’t see the enchanted wards and runes in the chamber. Nothing overt, just minor things to unsettle and unnerve.
“You come before the Council. What do you seek of us?”
I narrowed my eyes at the Chair’s wording. Damn power plays. I knew this was going to happen the moment we walked in, which was why I refused to let them check me. Ever since it had become clear that the Mage Council had pretty much claimed me as one of their own, my interactions with others became complicated.
“Information.” I paused, considering, but decided to play it out. “We seek information. And are willing to bargain for it.”
“By the old edicts?” the troll asked as he leaned forward. That simple act was rather intimidating, when the creature leaning forward was that big.