Magi Legend

by Andrew Dobell

  Moments later, the call connected, but no one greeted her, the line was silent.

  “Agent 7327,” Assunta said into the void.

  “Gold 8?” a voice on the end of the line asked.

  Assunta thought for a moment before answering, “Revelation.”

  “Good afternoon, Agent 7327, how may I direct your call?”

  “The office of High Inquisitor Many Damask, please,” she said as she took another bite from her roll.

  “One moment,” the voice said, and the line switched to choir music.

  Assunta sat in the apartment she’d rented and stared into the middle distance as she waited. The place wasn’t anything amazing, but she didn’t need much and preferred to be closer to her target than anything else. As she waited for the call to go through, she took a final bite of her sandwich and organised her thoughts on what she was going to say to Mary. Watching Amanda and digging up the current rumours about her had been interesting and somewhat fun. Getting out of the Vatican and coming to New York—somewhere she’d never been before—was good too. She felt like she was finally doing something for the cause. She was finally being useful for a change, rather than just training all the time.

  She found herself noticing the endless displays of profanity and disbelief in the city and often felt exasperated by it. It was like they were fighting for a humanity that didn’t want them. But she knew that the bulk of the population didn’t know of the threats hidden in the shadows, moving amongst them, and praying upon them without their knowledge. If they did know, then things might be very different.

  But that, she supposed, was their cross to bear, like their saviour before them.

  Moments later, the call connected and Mary Damask’s face stared back at her.

  “Assunta, thank you for calling, how goes the investigation?”

  “High Inquisitor Damask, thank you for taking my call. Everything is going very well, and I wanted to share my initial findings with you.”

  “Of course, go ahead.”

  “So, I’ve been watching Amanda-Jane Page as you asked, as well as looking into recent events, and there have been some interesting developments recently. The main item of interest is all related to a new rumour being spread around the Magi community about our target. The rumour suggests that Amanda is some kind of Chosen One. There is a text called the Prophecy of Helene that talks about the return of the Demons from Hell and how someone, possibly Amanda, is the one to fight against them. The text points to several clues or markers that apparently Amanda fulfils. I’m as yet unsure where this rumour has come from, but it’s spreading quickly and there are a lot of Witches saying it’s true.”

  As she spoke, Assunta could see that Mary had started to use her own computer, probably to call up the text she spoke of and to see what Assunta was talking about.

  “Hmm, well, it looks like the usual kind of dangerous occult propaganda that these Witches like to indulge in. I wouldn’t put much stock in it,” Mary suggested.

  “Of course, Inquisitor.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes, these rumours occasionally appear to include talk of some kind of fight or confrontation that happened on an island, specifically an atoll in the Pacific that’s been in the news recently regarding an unauthorised test of a nuclear device. Seems like the nuclear blast was related to Amanda and the news of this Prophecy. This part wasn’t easy to dig up, as if it was in the process of being covered up. I doubt most of the Witches that know of the Prophecy have heard of this link. I wonder if it’s worth looking into this atoll and what’s there?”

  “Good work, Assunta. I think it might be worth having a look. We should follow every lead we can to make sure we know what we’re dealing with here.”

  “Very well. I do have a question, though. Why do we not just make a move on this Witch if she’s such a threat?”

  “I’m the Witch Finder General now, every choice I make is scrutinised by the Conclave and Simon Peter. I have to be circumspect and careful that I work towards the common good and use our resources responsibly. You are doing good work in building our case against her, and for that, I am grateful.”

  “Of course, Inquisitor, it’s my pleasure.”

  “I’ll get our people to look into the atoll, and if I need you, I will be in touch. In the meantime, please continue with your investigation. May God be with you. Good afternoon, Assunta.” The video feed ended and the link clicked off.

  Assunta sat back and thought about what Mary had said. Sure, as High Inquisitor, her actions would be under greater scrutiny to make sure that everyone’s projects and investigations were getting the right share of the resources available, but Assunta suspected that there was more to her hesitancy than just that.

  Assunta had been working with Mary for a long time now and knew just how keen she was to bring Amanda to some kind of justice and to hold her to account for her previous actions. Some thought that this interest bordered on obsession, including members of the Conclave, who would obviously be watching developments and keeping a close eye on Mary to make sure her own personal passions didn’t take priority over arguably more significant concerns.

  She didn’t envy Mary in her new position as the head of the Inquisition. That sounded like far too much responsibility to Assunta.

  - The diary of Marcus, Grand Inquisitor.

  Mary continues her unhealthy obsession with this one Witch in New York, even in her position as High Inquisitor. With all the resources at her control, I worry that she will use them to pursue her own goals rather than think of the greater good and the needs of others within this organisation. I will continue to monitor the situation, and pray that Mary will see the light and the bigger picture.

  Back to Business

  Milan

  It felt good to be back. It had been far too long since she’d walked the hall of the empire she’d created. Yasmin had briefly taken that from her, but finally, she’d broken away from Yasmin to return to her own path.

  Angel stood in a corridor partway up the building that her company, Nephilim Industries, owned. Nephilim had been a powerhouse in the fashion, beauty, and cosmetics world for years, and had a global brand that was recognised and loved by people around the world.

  They put out their own magazine, they had celebrity-endorsed perfumes, and a fashion line that sold everywhere. But little did the population know that the company was ultimately built and run by a coven of Nomad Magi led by Angel Alergeri.

  When she rose into the sights of Yasmin back on that train in France during the hunt for the Golden Book, the Arch Magus had abducted her and forced Angel to work for her. But Angel was always looking for a way out, and about a month ago, on the atoll, Angel finally went her own way.

  She knew that Yasmin might one day catch up with her, maybe once her obsession with Amanda had subsided, but for now, at least, she felt quite safe from the threat Yasmin posed.

  Returning to Milan, her coven, and to her business had been long overdue, but she took her time, making sure to spread a few rumours about Amanda and the Prophecy of Helene beforehand. There was nothing quite like creating a little chaos.

  Beyond the glass side of her building, Milan spread out before her. Most of the buildings here were fairly squat with only a few high-rises in a couple of areas breaking that general trend, with more being built all the time.

  The business didn’t really need Angel around for it to run. That’s what her coven and the board of directors were for. She only stepped in when they needed her help. So, the company had continued to thrive and grow, as predicted.

  But she didn’t like to be too hands-off for too long and had been keen to return. Standing here now, looking out over the city with her reflection in the glass staring back at her, she felt very much back at home and more like her old self.

  Angel favoured her skirts above the knee, her heels high, and her white blouses crisply pressed, and today wasn’t any different. She wore her long blonde hair up in a bun on th
e back of her head to give her a harsher, more business-like appearance.

  Turning away from the view, Angel wandered around and eventually came to the doorway of one of several of her studios in the building. Upstairs, there were several that were set up for taking photos of their fashion lines on mannequins before the images were sent to the many digital retouchers who cleaned the pictures up in Photoshop to get them ready for their catalogues and website.

  There were a couple downstairs that were used by the cosmetics arm of the business, shooting the images that would be used to promote their latest line of perfumes or mascara or foundation. The list went on and on.

  The ones on this level were for shooting with models, usually for their fashion items, but also for their cosmetics line, as well.

  Angel walked into the studio. Apart from the modelling lights that lit up the white infinity cove and the model that stood upon it posing for the camera, the room was otherwise only dimly lit, with people sitting around a few computer monitors that showed the images as they were captured. People were pointing at the screens and commenting which would then inform the next shot.

  The team worked like a well-oiled machine, so Angel stood to the side and watched the model and the photographer.

  A few minutes in, Angel noticed that the model seemed to be getting a little annoyed and kept shooting angry looks at her. Angel gave it little thought and let her mind wander while enjoying the sight of her employees working hard.

  But a short time later, the model stopped the shoot, pointed at her, and in a voice that Angel would class as a whine, complained.

  “Who is that, and why is she staring at me? I can’t work like this. You know, with random people walking in and staring at me.”

  Angel raised her eyebrows in slight surprise but showed no other reaction to the outburst. Nearby, the team looked over and a woman got up and approached Angel. But as the woman got closer recognised Angel and stopped short.

  “Oh. Um, sorry, ma’am, I had no idea you’d be paying us a visit.”

  “That’s no problem. Who is the model?” Angel asked, indicating the girl with her hands on her hips, looking indignant, and quite oblivious to what was really going on.

  “That’s Kylie, she’s one of your current top models. She can be a little demanding at times, but the public and the clients seem to love her,” the woman said.

  “Send her to the makeup room, I want a word with her. Alone.”

  The woman looked a little concerned, but nodded and moved off. Angel turned and walked into the currently empty side room with its long table and mirrors along one wall surrounded by lights. Cherubim Cosmetics, the company’s makeup line, lay spread out over the tabletop.

  She stood by the door and waited until the stick-thin girl in heels walked in. Kylie’s demeanour was that of a petulant child throwing a tantrum, Angel thought as she shut the door behind her in silence.

  With her hand still on the door handle, Angel looked up at Kylie with an intense expression. Kylie had her arms crossed, her bottom lip stuck out in defiance.

  “Well?” Angel asked, her face unreadable.

  “Sorry. I didn’t know who you were, standing there staring at me in the dark. Frankly, you should know better than to do that. It’s off-putting.”

  Angel left the door and took a few steps towards Kylie. “I don’t give a shit what you think. You represent me and my business while you work here. We pay you well, we give you whatever you want. Drugs, money, designer clothes, fast cars, men, women, access to the rich and famous. If you want to hold onto that, I suggest you change your attitude.”

  Kylie stood there, a frown on her face that reminded Angel of a child caught doing something wrong and being told off for it, but she remained quiet.

  Anger rose within Angel. She moved forward quicker than most humans could follow and got right in Kylie’s face.

  “I don’t think you understand your position, who I am, and what I can do to you. You’ve had it good so far, but I think it’s gone to your head, so I think you need some re-education.”

  Kylie stared at Angel, but stood her ground. “You can’t threaten me. Who do you think you are? I know my rights.”

  “Really?” Angel said, and with a little working of Magic, sent visions of what Angel would do to her friends and family should she ever try anything to hurt Angel or her company. Kylie’s eyes rolled back, and she dropped to her knees as a foamy drool fell from her mouth. A second later, the visions faded, and Kylie relaxed, breathing hard.

  “Do you understand now?” Angel asked.

  Kylie looked at Angel with pure fear in her eyes. “I… I think so,” she said, her voice shaken.

  “Good, report to the top floor and ask for Gabrielle by 8pm tonight. That is, if you still want to work for us.”

  “I do… er, Miss,” Kylie stammered, her body shaking, the whites of her eyes red.

  “Take a few minutes to yourself, get a grip before you go out there again. I, of course, needn’t say what will happen if you speak of this to anyone, right?”

  Kylie nodded as Angel stepped out of the room and shut the door behind her. She walked up to the shoot’s creative director, who had spoken to her before. “She’ll be a few minutes. Give her whatever time she needs, she’ll be out soon.”

  The woman nodded to Angel. “Of course. Thank you.”

  “Keep up the good work,” Angel said and left them.

  Walking out of the studio and into the light of the late afternoon sun that bathed the corridor in a golden glow, Angel felt great. She’d felt like letting off some steam, and that little encounter had been just what she’d needed. She didn’t go around threatening all of her employees, of course, that would be impossible, counterproductive, and dangerous. There were times though, when it was needed, especially with the more public members of the workforce.

  Also, people like Kylie, who had a more public persona were more like commodities, people Angel could use to her own ends if needed. She supposed some might call it a form of modern-day slavery, which wouldn’t be too far from the truth. But with the use of a bit of Magic, the threat of anyone going public was significantly reduced. She would get Gabrielle to work on Kylie a little later, making sure the relevant mental blocks were in place before she did anything stupid.

  For now, Angel headed upstairs. She’d called a meeting with her coven to discuss some plans she had regarding the Syndicate, after Mr Black’s untimely demise.

  On reaching the highest level this lift would go, Angel concentrated and Ported up one floor to the coven’s private level, which was only accessible to those who could Port.

  The top three floors of the building were used mostly by the coven. The lowest of the three floors was the only one accessible via the lift and would be where Kylie would report to later. This was where the Riven employees and the directors would meet with the coven. It also served as a place where visiting dignitaries could stay. The middle of the three floors was the coven’s private quarters and was only accessible via teleportation. The topmost floor of the building could be reached from the floors below, by stairs that missed the coven’s private level entirely. It served primarily as a defensive floor, in case of incursion by enemies from the rooftop, and had a strong force of security guards on duty at all times.

  The main corridors up here looked similar to the rest of the building, with a modern look and lots of glass partitions. Angel walked through the maze of corridors and finally into a large boardroom dominated by a huge oval table surrounded with comfortable-looking office chairs.

  Her entire coven was already gathered and took their seats with Angel as she entered, each of them greeting her with a nod or curt hello.

  Six other Magi made up the rest of Angel’s coven, each of them answering to an Angelic name. A tall muscular blond man named Michael sat to Angel’s left, with Cherub, an eternal child sitting next to him. Then came Uziel with his dark hair and chiselled features, followed by Uriel dressed in black with his long
hair giving him a Goth look. Next was Azrael, a good looking woman with wavy red hair, and finally, Gabrielle, a dark-haired Italian beauty who sat to Angel’s right and greeted her quietly.

  “Angel, it’s been too long. Are you back for good now or will you be running off to Yasmin again?” Uziel said from the far side of the table.

  The comment angered Angel, but it was a valid one. She stood up to address her coven.

  “Uziel, as much as I want to rip your lungs out for that comment, I will let it slide as it’s a fair question and you’re probably all thinking the same thing. Firstly, let me say that I am back for good this time. Yasmin will no longer have control over me. If that changes, you have my permission to kill me.”

  “Why shouldn’t we just kill you now and have done with it? Remove the liability,” Uziel answered.

  The rest of the coven turned back to Angel, looking to see how she would handle this. They were looking for a weakness. Uziel was pushing it on purpose. They were testing her, making sure she hadn’t gone soft. Well, if they wanted a display of power, who was she to deny them? She could sense their doubt in her. She didn’t give Uziel any warning. Instead, she unleashed a powerful blast of Essentia against him, eating a huge chunk out of his Aegis while simultaneously telekinetically lifting him from his seat and slamming him against the back wall. His Aegis hissed and sparked as it fought against her Magic, but the ferociousness of her attack was so sudden that he reeled from it, trying to get a handle on things before it was too late. But a moment later, his ill-prepared Aegis fell away, scattered to the winds by the force of Angel’s attack. With that, he stopped struggling and raised his hands in supplication.