by Annie Percik
She looked at him in surprise. ‘You don’t think the artisans would come after me?’
He spread his hands. ‘Your involvement hasn’t been nearly as high profile as ours and it’s only been about a week since you dropped off the map.’ He paused. How could so much have happened in so little time? ‘You can make up some story about where you’ve been and just slot back into your normal life like nothing happened.’
Abelard wondered if he would want to have the option of just going back to his old life. He looked at Alessandra and realised the answer was no. They had discovered so many amazing things together and he had a feeling their work wasn’t done yet.
Jen looked thoughtful. ‘I don’t think I can do that. Not after all that’s happened. You’ve opened my eyes to a whole world I never knew existed. I can’t just pretend I don’t know about all this.’
Abelard nodded, considering. ‘A mundane viewpoint will probably be useful in whatever we decide to do next.’
‘Well, the first thing I’m going to suggest is that we find a different term than ‘mundane’. I may not want to be an artisan but I don’t think I’m mundane either.’
Alessandra let out a bark of laughter then sobered. ‘Perhaps semantics can wait until we’re on the ground again. Where to?’
The call-e-fact beeped, saving Abelard from having to admit he had no idea.
‘It’s a message from your mother,’ he said to Alessandra. ‘Apparently there’s someone we need to meet.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Abelard held Alessandra’s hand tightly as they walked down the street into the very heart of the city. They had dropped Jen off at the halfway house, promising to come and find her after their mysterious meeting. Shielding his eyes with his hand from the late afternoon light, Abelard looked at the structure they had been directed to. He had to concentrate to keep his gaze from sliding off it. While the buildings around it were of modern brick and glass, this ancient-looking two-storey stone temple stood alone as a proud anachronism that most people would never notice. Abelard took a deep breath and they walked through the pillared entrance-way into a semi-dark antechamber.
As the modern world receded behind them, Abelard became conscious of their footfalls on the polished stone floor. That and their breathing were the only sounds in the whole space. He felt Alessandra tense. He gave her hand a squeeze and she turned to look at him, her long blonde hair framing her face. For a brief moment he thought she was going to say something appropriately pithy, then it passed. Instead she breathed out and he felt her relax.
Stepping through an archway, they entered a room with a high domed ceiling, lit only by burning torches. Like everything they had seen so far, the walls, floor and ceiling were unadorned smooth stone. Here they encountered the first movement since they had entered the building.
Opposite the way they had come in were tall wooden double-doors with polished brass trim. In front of them stood two … Abelard would have assumed they were statues if they hadn’t been in the process of rising to their feet. Each was a good twelve feet tall and an achingly beautiful representation of the human form – one male and one female. These were no crude artisan-made brain-e-facts. They appeared to be made of translucent crystal that moved soundlessly like human flesh. They were armed with swords and shields of the same material. Their motion ended with them standing before the doors, each with an arm outstretched, holding their swords in a challenging manner.
‘Right,’ said Alessandra.
She dropped Abelard’s hand and brought both of hers out in front of her a short distance apart, palms facing each other. But before she could do anything, Abelard stopped her with a hand on her arm.
‘Hang on. Maybe we could try talking to them first before we blow them up?’
He stepped forwards until he was just a few feet from the glassy giants.
‘Um, hello,’ he said, feeling like an idiot. ‘We were sent a message telling us to come here. Could you let your, um, master know we’re here, please?’
Nothing happened. Abelard turned back to Alessandra and saw a familiar mocking expression on her face.
‘Okay, okay. It was worth a try.’ He gestured for her to take his place. ‘Foom at will.’
Then a series of heavy clicks emanated from the door behind the guards. The final tone sounded like an iron bell being struck, the noise reverberating around the stone walls for several moments. As silence descended again the figures reversed their original movements to return once more to their seated vigil.
‘Hah!’ Abelard cried.
Alessandra took a second to roll her eyes at him as the doors swung soundlessly open. She took hold of his hand again.
The space between the now gaping doors was black. Not shadowy, not dark but … black. Abelard somehow knew there was a depth behind the now open doors but he couldn’t perceive a single thing about it. Alessandra took the first step forward.
‘Well, we’ve come this far.’
They walked up to the opening. Then they each took a deep breath as they stepped across the threshold into …
Bright daylight. Grass under their feet. Blue sky above, birds circling lazily. The sun high in the sky was hot but not unpleasantly so. In the distance, mountains. In the foreground, forest and the sound of running water.
Abelard spoke first. ‘I can’t … I’ve seen so much since that day in Jen’s office, that sometimes I think I must be in a hospital bed somewhere, dreaming everything that’s happened. But this – I give up.’
Alessandra dropped his hand and turned around. He stopped gaping and turned to follow her gaze. Behind them was the temple, as if they were standing behind the building they had entered from the street. It stood in the middle of a large clearing, surrounded by forest. Directly in front of them were the large double wooden doors with polished brass trim, standing open.
He heard Alessandra mutter, ‘Everything is a test.’ For the first time that day, he saw her smile. ‘We should at least enjoy this place as if it’s real. It might be, for all we know.’
She pulled her thick jumper off over her head and tied it around her waist.
Abelard followed suit.
‘So,’ she continued. ‘This way, I guess.’
She headed off into the woods in the direction of the sound of water.
Abelard was glad of the shade of the forest canopy but wished he had the slightest idea what was going on. They had fled the destroyed compound with no idea where to go or whom to trust. Now they were apparently in another world in mid-summer. Still, if he was delusional, his brain was doing an excellent job of it. The surroundings were beautiful and he was here with the person he loved most in the world.
Alessandra proceeded through the woods at speed. Abelard jogged to catch her up.
‘I love you,’ he said.
She didn’t break stride or even look at him but she said over her shoulder, ‘I know. I love you too.’
The afternoon wore on and they lost track of time. The sound of running water grew in volume and since they had nothing else to aim for they continued towards it. Eventually they came to a break in the trees where a fast-flowing brook burbled over a cascading set of waterfalls. Next to the water was a circle of stone benches. Abelard counted eight in total. On one sat a man of late middle-age, dressed in a grey smock and wide tan trousers. He had short grey hair and bare feet. They continued towards him. The man smiled as they approached and gestured to the bench opposite him. As it was wide enough to seat two, they sat down together and waited.
The man closed his eyes and appeared to be listening to the water.
Eventually Abelard broke the silence. ‘So, is this real, is it an illusion or am I just mad in a padded cell somewhere?’
The man opened his eyes, which were the bluest Abelard had ever seen. ‘Who is to say there is any difference? Not a very useful answer, I admit, but after long enough you come to see that all things are the same, just viewed from different places.’
‘Great,�
�� Abelard said. ‘I wasn’t planning on an afternoon of riddles. I imagine we’ve been summoned here for some kind of judgement. Is our punishment to be baffled to death by a mystic old man because, while I can think of worse ways to go, honestly we have better things to do.’
The man surprised Abelard by responding with a deep-throated laugh. ‘Ah, the impatience of the young. Always so refreshing. The Inner Circle needs to talk to you and I represent them. I am …’
He was cut off mid-sentence by Alessandra. ‘You’re Brother Theobold.’
The man rewarded her with a wide smile and sparkling eyes. Casually, he reached his hand towards the ground. As he did, the shoot of a plant burst out of the ground, surrounded by spirals of blue light. It grew two feet to the height of his hand, exploded into a single scarlet rose and then collapsed into dust, leaving just the flower stem neatly caught between his fingers. He passed it to Alessandra, who received it without expression or comment.
‘Very insightful, Ms Eriksen.’
Abelard meanwhile was staring at the rose. ‘That was impressive.’
‘So.’ Brother Theobold cast his gaze from one face to the other. ‘The real question is, what happens next? Your conflict with the artisans has actually solved two longstanding problems. The rediscovery and demise of Gerald Simpson and the accompanying neutralisation of Walter Snyder. Yes, we all wish that such things could have been done without any loss of life but, given what they were independently capable of, I am sure that huge numbers of lives have been saved.’ He cocked his head. ‘Both of you could be described as extremely foolish but often it takes the wisest of fools to lead us to where we must go.’
Alessandra rolled her eyes.
Brother Theobold smiled and went on. ‘The conflict is over, the Artisan Council still stands and the wild notion that anyone can manipulate mana can be safely put back to rest for the time being.’ He turned to Alessandra. ‘Your mother really is a remarkable woman and deserves her seat in the Inner Circle more than any of us. Perhaps one day you might ask her how old she is and how many faces she has worn over the course of her life.’
Alessandra blanched.
Brother Theobold continued. ‘You are both now in very limited company in that you are beginning to learn what mana can really do. I am over 500 years old.’ He let that sink in for a moment. ‘You have seen this place and have some idea of how the very matter and elements of the world can be made to dance under our control. For the last one hundred years we’ve allowed ever more people to know a tiny hint of that power through the creation of artisans and artefacts. However you are completely correct, Abelard – this limitation is grossly unfair. It denies the majority of people their birthright while allowing for the possibility of mana-powered tyrants. Plus, really, who wants to be stuck building freez-e-facts for the rest of their lives?’
He paused and Abelard took the opportunity to speak up. ‘What’s the alternative? We saw from Gerald’s interference that uncontrolled creation of artisans can cause chaos. We understand now. You can’t just give this power to everyone all at once. Not as things stand at the moment.’
Alessandra nodded in agreement.
Brother Theobold looked Abelard in the eye. ‘And that is why things have to change. For two hundred years I told only a tiny number about mana and still managed to unleash a monster that I had to destroy.’ He glanced down and back up. ‘Perhaps a story for another day. But after that I had to learn again to trust more people with some level of power. Now we have artisans and artefacts and everyone is better off for them. The end goal must be for everyone everywhere to be fully informed about what mana can really do and to be able to tap into and direct that power for themselves.’
Abelard and Alessandra both shook their heads but before either could speak he continued.
‘You are now as I once was. Afraid and rightly so. But you and your children will live for centuries to come. I have brought us half way – from a world with no mana to one where everyone shares safely in its bounty but does so unequally and in ignorance. The decision of the Inner Circle is this; in justice for the conflict you have caused we order that you both join us and take responsibility for the mighty task of bringing the full understanding of mana and what it is capable of to all of mankind. As I believe the colloquialism goes; no pressure.’ He winked.
Abelard blinked slowly and swallowed.
After a moment Alessandra shrugged. ‘That was all we wanted in the first place. We were just … wrong … in the way we went about it. And for that we’re deeply sorry.’
‘But what about all the new artisans?’ Abelard asked. ‘Who’s going to give them the support they need?’
Brother Theobold looked at Alessandra. ‘Now that Walter Snyder is gone your mother will be free to take a more active role in the management of Gadg-E-Tech. In fact, it might be time for me to officially step down as CEO and allow her the chance to shine in a leadership role.’
Alessandra blinked. ‘You’re the CEO of Gadg-E-Tech?’
‘In pseudonym only.’ Brother Theobold smiled. ‘I have not interfered there directly in some years. To answer your question, young man, Laleh will be able to put measures in place to help those unexpectedly burdened with artisan powers.’ Abelard was about to ask another question but Brother Theobold anticipated it. ‘And she can also ensure the company does not create any more brain-e-facts.’
‘And what about us?’ Alessandra asked. ‘Our names and faces have been quite high profile the last few days. I’m not sure we’ll be able to just go about our lives without anyone asking any awkward questions.’
Brother Theobold nodded slowly. ‘We can give you new ones.’
‘New what?’ Abelard was utterly confused.
‘New names and faces,’ Brother Theobold explained, still smiling. ‘You’re still thinking too small in terms of what mana can do.’
They gaped at him and then at each other. Abelard tried to imagine Alessandra with a different face and didn’t like the idea one bit. Then he thought about looking in a mirror and seeing a stranger looking back and he felt nauseous.
But Alessandra was nodding. ‘That makes sense. If you have the kind of power and influence you claim to have, new identities shouldn’t be a problem. We can say that Abelard Abernathy and Alessandra Eriksen died in the explosion at the compound.’
Abelard still didn’t like it but he could see it was a neat solution to their problem.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Lay the whammy on us.’
Brother Theobold raised his arms and his face took on an expression of intense concentration. Mana flickered between his fingers, then lanced out towards them. Abelard flinched away but managed not to topple off the bench. He felt a tingling sensation all over his face. It was uncomfortable but not painful. The whole thing was over in a couple of minutes. When Brother Theobold lowered his arms again Abelard turned to face Alessandra and his eyes widened in shock.
Her features were finer, delicate even. And her luscious blonde curls had been replaced by a sleek blue-black curtain of hair. But her blue eyes still looked out at him from the unfamiliar face, uncertain and worried. Then she smiled and reached up to cup his cheek with her hand.
‘It’s still you. And you’re still cute.’
Brother Theobold conjured a mirror in a blaze of mana and held it out to Abelard. He took it and looked at himself apprehensively. His skin was several shades darker, his features broader, his lips fuller. He reached up to touch his hair and found it much coarser than it had been. Maybe if he grew it he could get a hairstyle like Simon Hanley’s – just like he’d always wanted. He smiled and his weird reflection smiled back at him. He thought he could probably get used to it eventually.
Alessandra grabbed the mirror from him and started inspecting herself. She ran her fingers through her hair and nodded in satisfaction. ‘Nice.’
Abelard had a sudden thought. ‘Can you give me my artisan powers back too?’
Brother Theobold regarded him seriously. ‘Do
you think you need them to serve in your new role?’
Abelard considered the question. He was tempted to say yes, but that would be a lie. He felt a pang as he realised what his answer had to be. ‘I guess not. And in the long run it might be useful for you to have someone without powers on your team. The mundanes are more likely to trust someone who’s like them.’ He felt his dreams of being an artisan finally drifting away. And it was okay.
Brother Theobold nodded. ‘You may find there is unexpected power in being powerless.’
Alessandra put her arm around Abelard and squeezed his shoulders. ‘And like Jen said, there’s a lot more to you than just the ability to manipulate mana.’
‘Now though,’ Brother Theobold said, ‘it is time for you to go. You will find details of your new identities in your vehicle, along with instructions for accessing the resources you will need. We will expect to see you here for the next Inner Circle meeting with your first thoughts on your grand plan.’ He smiled one last time and stood up. He began to walk into the forest but paused to point back the way they had come. ‘That’s your route home. I suggest you use your journey back to consider what you are going to do in your spare time when you’re not secretly ruling the world.’
He stepped into the treeline and was gone.
Their walk back to the temple was quiet. Both Alessandra and Abelard were lost in thought. When they arrived at the black portal, they passed through without a second thought. Walking through the stone chamber, they barely noticed the crystal giants sitting with heads bowed as they passed. Then they were in the chilly dusk of downtown once more. A mixture of artisans, engineers and mundanes flowed around them, each bustling home or on to more exciting places, oblivious to the godlike potential they all possessed within them.