34
The First Spark hung there in the vast vaulted cathedral.
A crackling mote of pure creative power.
A star in the dark.
It had floated there in the forbidden fortress at the centre of Free Reign since the earliest days. The notion of it had become such an accepted fact to every generation that lived out their days in the metropolis that few ever really gave it serious thought. Children were schooled knowing that theirs was the greatest city in the world, a shining beacon of light and civilization in a dark monster infested world. They were shown pictures of the Spark and diagrams of the Elemental Forges in their textbooks from the earliest age. When the brain was most pliable, children of many species accepted a simple fact that underpinned their everyday lives.
Free Reign is a city built entirely on the power of harnessed magic.
To anyone with even the vaguest knowledge of thaumaturgy it was a staggering achievement. Magic was an unconquerable force of chaotic creativity, as likely to mutate and annihilate as it was to heal and evolve.
Yet for reasons no one understood, in this one city in the entire world it had found stability. More than that, it seemed to support the structures that had evolved around it.
Neither Gaunt nor Maeve had ever seen the elemental forges up close. Almost no one but the magi had enjoyed access to the temple for hundreds of years.
Locked away in a monumentally huge cathedral that scraped the clouds in the very centre of Free Reign, the First Spark had been housed there since the city’s foundations. It powered the elemental forges that the magi of Candlehill used to create the entities that gave Free Reign its industry and dynamism. It infused the water in the streamlines with its colorful sorcery, a system of veins and arteries that pumped around every organ of the city. The secret that the city’s sorcerers had kept for centuries was that for all this progress there was a side effect. For all the rules and logic, the science and invention that defined the city, there was a small leak of chaos. The elegant prose that allowed people to enjoy the narrative of their lives was injected with a trace of improvised poetry. Every now and then, this resulted in the cases Maeve had been sent to investigate.
In a city like Free Reign it was inevitable that a department like the Regulators would exist. Maeve had been treated like a fringe outcast for most of her professional life. She thought her career as a warden had been scuppered by some higher authority she had wronged, relegating her to an obscure department that hunted freaks and anomalies. Now she saw that the slandered reputation of the regulatory department was nothing but a distraction technique. They had never lacked funding, or intelligence reports, or equipment. It was obvious now that Maeve and her backroom colleagues had been secretly funded and supported by Candlehill since their inception. The magi had always been using her to cover up their mistakes and subsequently discrediting her to escape serious inquiry into their activities.
It took Maeve’s breath away.
“So much power. Right in the heart of the city.”
Gaunt just stared at it grimly.
“You mean the Spark? Or the shady cabal of wizards that have been running our lives since before anyone can remember? And you wonder what causes all the anomalies you’re sent to hunt. It’s a joke. People trying to live normal lives in spitting distance of a weirdness engine. One thing, warden, you’ll never be short of work.”
Maeve gave him the hint of a smile.
“Makes you look almost normal.”
Maeve almost laughed as she realized for the first time in her life something
which should have always been obvious. She found herself shaking her head and peering around the shadowed alcoves of the colossal temple.
“It’s insane Gaunt.”
“Which part?”
Maeve stared at the flickering sphere of energy that hung in the dark.
“Our ancient ancestors built an entire city of stone and metal around this, this Thing, floating above rivers of pure magic since time immemorial. We go to work past it, take the tram around it, eat in restaurants within earshot of its energy, we read our children’s school essays on it. We do all that, Gaunt, yet underneath it all we still have absolutely no idea what it is!”
Gaunt placed a cigarette between his cold pale lips and sparked a match.
“Nope. Just a big shiny ball of mystery. Course the magi would have us all believe that this thing exists to serve them and they understand it perfectly. Spark forbid those pompous asses admit there was something that was beyond them.”
Maeve breathed deep. Her heart was racing and the tiny hairs stood up on her arms. She could feel the static of thaumaturgy in her lungs like fuzzy air.
“We shouldn’t exist. That power could have torn the walls of this city apart centuries ago.”
“Makes you wonder if perhaps there’s sparks of consciousness in that…spark.”
Maeve rubbed her fingers and thumb together. The skin felt greasy with a thin skein of thaumaturgy.
“It’s what they use to make the elementals isn’t it? Every Mudgrunt that pulls our rickshaws, every Bloomer that tends the farms, every Breather that floats our airships and platforms. Maybe creating life is what it was born to do.”
Gaunt blew out a thin stream of smoke. As it floated into the air it morphed into a tiny elemental for a moment, reached out a silvery hand and then dissipated. This made Gaunt smile, an expression that slightly disturbed Maeve. Gaunt watched the little entity fade away into the gloom. The Vigilante chuckled.
“Ha. A tobacco elemental. That a first? It’s actually rather fun.”
Maeve glanced at the soulless man and wondered if she caught a glimpse of something human.
“You’ve been places almost no man has, you’ve seen mystery. When you were on the other side, Gaunt, what did you find?”
Gaunt blew out more smoke and looked almost disappointed that the Spark didn’t ignite it with the appearance of life.
“What I find pretty much everywhere I go.”
“What’s that, Gaunt?”
He offered her a mirthless grin.
“Trouble.”
Maeve looked down the long stone steps that hugged the wall of the vault. At the base of the Spark she saw a dark figure silhouetted against the light. He stood before a metal tripod upon which sat a black globe. Reach was holding a book aloft and reading aloud. He wore a simple dark woolen robe and around his neck hung a long strip of silk inscribed with demonic prayers. Hovering by his side was a huge quartz elemental whose multi-faceted form reflected the light from the Spark like a polished diamond. Maeve tapped Gaunt on the shoulder and pointed.
“Trouble like that?”
Gaunt took off his mask and looked down at Jonas Reach with his own eyes. He drew his one of his Grimjade beaked war picks and handed it to Maeve.
“Always good to have something for close quarters. I’ll deal with Reach.”
“I can try for the Ellie.”
Gaunt sized up the eight foot tall construct that protected Jonas as he was distracted with the ritual. He shook his head.
“It’ll tear you apart, Scurlock. Let Izzy handle the elemental, it’s what she does best.”
Maeve looked at the lethal apparition that glided by Gaunt’s side. It flexed its metallic talons off the stone wall and produced a shower of sparks. She re-evaluated the division of labor.
“Fair enough.”
Gaunt looked at her gravely.
“That artifact is your priority. You have to shut it off before he finishes. If you get a chance to shatter that globe, take it. I don’t know what it takes to destroy it, but if grimjade doesn’t do it, I don’t know what will.”
Maeve gingerly took the weapon saturated with death-magic. She gave it a couple of exploratory swings.
“And you?”
Gaunt drew his revolver and checked that the six green cylinders were slotted into the drum. He slid it expertly back into his holster.
“I’m going to go and fi
nish a mission.”
Maeve looked up and saw another set of steps leading down to the Spark. She thought if she could sneak down quietly enough she would be in range for decent shot at the Dark.
“Gaunt. What do you reckon the chances are he’ll give up and come quietly?”
Gaunt glanced down at Reach as he recited his incantation.
“Slim.”
Maeve nodded and fixed the Vigilante in his pale eyes.
“Good luck Gaunt.”
Gaunt gave her a nod.
“Same to you, Scurlock.”
Gaunt stood up and moved carefully down the long flight of stone steps as quietly as a cat.
Maeve took a few deep breaths and tried to calm her fluttering heart. She tucked the war pick into her belt next to her pistol and crept along the walkway to the second flight of stairs. Glancing down at Reach, he seemed completely absorbed in the ritual. Maeve had studied almost no demonology at university other than the most basic history lessons, so she knew nothing of the rites Reach was performing. The only thing she hoped she knew about the incantation was that it took longer to say than she took to get down a flight of stairs.
At the bottom of the long staircase, Gaunt stood unmasked behind the architect of all his misery. The giant ball of crackling white thaumaturgy hung suspended in the vault before them. The stench of burnt sorcery singed Gaunt’s nostrils as he breathed. He watched Reach performing his incantation for a moment. He thought he would feel anger. Instead he felt only a strong sense of being exactly where he was supposed to be. Gaunt took a deep breath into his soulless body.
“Jonas Reach!”
The hulking figure outlined by the light tensed for a moment. The shoulders hunched and his huge hands slow rose into the air to display he was unarmed. The only movement was from his breath as his anger rose.
Gaunt stood still fifteen metres away. He called again over the crackle and thrum of thaumaturgy emanating from the First Spark.
“We have business.”
Reach stood still for another breath and then the huge shoulders began to shake rhythmically. Gaunt heard the laughter drift across to him.
Reach slowly turned around and even Gaunt was shocked. He had expected to see madness in Reach’s face, the wild eyes of the fanatic. He had not expected to see a face distorted and warped by the power of dark sorcery until he hardly resembled a man at all.
His skin was inflamed with welts and pustules. The bones themselves seemed to have warped and spiny white spikes burst through the skin of his scalp. He was breathing heavily and bloody drool swung from his chin. Still he offered Gaunt a mocking smile. Gaunt looked his opponent up and down.
“You are an ill host for even a god such as yours, Reach.”
Jonas Reach gave a small shrug.
“Don’t judge a man by what he wears, Gaunt. I couldn’t judge you by that, could I? You’re just a suit of clothes worn by no one. An empty vessel.”
Reach kept his hands in the air but nodded to the giant quartz elemental. It fell on to all fours like a gorilla and crouched, waiting to pounce. At the same moment, the Wraith flexed its talons and readied to charge.
Gaunt and Reach did not move. The stood facing one another in silence.
Reach slowly lowered his hands to his sides. Gaunt drew back the hem of his coat to reveal the handle of his revolver. Jonas Reach slowly smiled and did the same. He called across to Gaunt.
“Let’s see how your city crumbles when the glue holding it up is taken away.”
Gaunt tightened his jaw and prepared to draw.
The stench of burnt thaumaturgy filled the air and crackling arcs of lightning seethed from the First Spark. Behind Jonas Reach, Maeve could see that something was happening within the black orb. The inky clouds within the artifact swirled with increasing violence and green lightning flashed within the smoke. A bolt of energy suddenly shot from the First Spark and was drawn into the Dark. The void greedily consumed the thaumaturgy in its bottomless maw.
Maeve glanced at the two men about to fight and the two crouched ethereal bodyguards next to them.
It’s started. It’s draining the Spark.
Maeve moved to draw her pistol and then realized that it may have no effect on an object like The Dark. She slowly drew the Grimjade war pick and looked at the curved green beak. The lengths Gaunt had gone to obtain such weapons. She wrapped her hand around the handle of the pick and crouched down low. It was about twenty metres between the alcove at the foot of the steps and the orb. Whatever the outcome of the duel happening next to it, this was her only shot at destroying it. She braced herself to sprint the distance.
With a resonant boom the Wraith launched itself at the elemental bodyguard. The two sorcerous entities closed the distance between them faster than the eye could register. When they collided it caused an explosion of quartz shards and green death-magic that rained down in the vault like chips of polluted ice. Gaunt and Reach drew pistols and started firing.
They ran as they aimed, circling each other in a wide arc as their ethereal champions battled it out in a fusion of energy.
Bullets ricocheted off the stone at Gaunt’s feet but he did not flinch. He kept his eyes firmly on the mutated figure of his target. Reach did not dive for cover either. He stood tall and arrogant, his one eye narrowed in concentration as he cocked back the hammer of his gun.
Gaunt gritted his teeth and snarled as the first bullet punched clean through his left side. The spray of blood floated up in a maelstrom of crimson droplets, caught up in the residual sorcery of the chamber. He dropped to one knee in pain and fired off another round as he fell.
It struck Jonas reach just above the knee and took some splinters of bone out the back of his leg as it passed through. Reach limped back in agony but somehow caught his balance. There was a glimmer of shock in his good eye as a sliver of the demonic essence within him leaked from the bullet wound along with his blood.
If Reach didn’t fear Grimjade before, he feared it now.
He tried to grasp the demonic spirit as it left him but it dissipated and was drawn up to the gathering cloud above.
“No.”
Gaunt forced himself to stand and called across.
“Piece at a time, Jonas.”
With a roar Reach fired his pistol again. The bullet skimmed Gaunt’s pale neck and spun him from his feet. A gobbet of dark blood flew up to join the mist gathering in the sorcerous air.
Gaunt closed his grip but realized his pistol was no longer there. His eyes flickered open and he found himself on his back. He fought to get his bearings for a moment and then felt the stickiness on his neck and shoulder. He saw his pistol a few inches from his fingers and stretched to reach it.
Jonas hobbled a few feet closer and took more careful aim right between Gaunt’s eyes.
Suddenly he exhaled and the shot went wide as Maeve dragged the war pick down his spine. She did not have the size or strength to fully wield the weapon against a man the size of Reach but she prayed she could distract him at least. The pick tore a ragged gash in his flesh and a little more of the demonic essence was released.
Reach turned around and head-butted Maeve square in the face. Maeve felt the world go black for a moment and then she focused on Reach’s fist as he punched her onto her back. Maeve curled up in a ball as the air was forced from her lungs like bellows. She writhed there on the cold flagstones, desperately reaching out for the weapon.
A deafening crack sounded somewhere to her right and when she opened her eyes she saw that the Wraith had shattered one of the elemental’s arms. Crystal shards scattered across the floor and the sound was enough to make Reach turn around. He just had time to register that Gaunt was back on his feet before the bullet hit him in the stomach.
Gaunt was limping forward with one hand stemming the blood flowing from his neck. Reach doubled over as the pain hit him and dark internal blood poured out in a steady gush. He vomited onto the flagstones and the result was also tinged with dark life
blood as well as demonic essence.
With a curse he got to his feet and returned fire.
Maeve’s head was spinning and she could not seem to get breath in her lungs. She was shocked at how hard Reach could hit. With great effort she propped herself up onto her knees and saw that she was facing the black orb. It sucked mindlessly at the First Spark, siphoning off its creative force at an ever increasing rate.
All the sounds of battle around Maeve seemed muted now. She knew she was concussed and perhaps worse, but the tunnel vision it caused had given her singularity of purpose. Everything else faded and all that was left in the world was a single task. With shaking fingers she reached to the flagstones and picked up the Grimjade pick. She tried to get to her feet but stumbled and fell back hard onto one knee. A shock of pain shot up her leg but she used the pick to steady herself and somehow got to her feet.
With unsteady strides Maeve approached the artifact and stood before it. A droplet of blood fell from her broken nose and hit the surface of the orb. It vanished in an instant. Maeve raised the pick as high as she could, tears running from her cheeks.
“Stop hurting my home.”
She brought the weapon down hard and cracked the Dark.
Gaunt fired again and then felt the hammer dry fire. He heard Reach’s gun do the same. Neither of them had time to reload. Gaunt threw his pistol at Reach to distract him as he drew back his coat and drew the second gun.
They both drew as one and fired.
Gaunt saw two of his bullets pierce Reach in his broad chest. He felt something puncture his own chest like a burning hammer and exit his back with a hot spurt. Gaunt’s legs almost went from him again but he somehow stayed on his feet. Reach was almost bent double for a moment in shock and pain, but against all odds he straightened up and raised his gun again. A steady stream of thaumaturgic energy was leaking from his every wound, the demon within him dissolving into the air.
Gaunt ignored his own pain. His clothes were soaked with blood and his breath came in wheezing gasps. He stood straight and poised, his pistol lowered by his side. Reach stared at him for a moment in confusion.
SMOKE AND BLADES Page 26