Arcane Ops

by T. R. Cameron

  “Why the help all of a sudden? Not that I’m at all displeased.”

  “I have reached the end of my patience with the stalemate. It is time to destroy our enemies and the other humans who harbor them. Only then can we begin to progress toward our ultimate objectives.”

  “And those are?”

  “Power, of course. The answer is always power.”

  Sarah shrieked as she returned to the physical world, Iressa having given her a Dreven-view of the knife driving at her chest before she sent her back into her body. She sat, muttering, “So much to do and so little time before they’re killed and things really begin.”

  Miles away, in her lab at ARES, Kayleigh monitored the live feed from the witch’s apartment. She was inordinately happy that they’d pulled Sloan out and all the more so as she listened to the crazy woman’s half-conversation. She gave Alfred instructions to copy it to Diana and Cara, then headed to the elevator. Diana was working out of the fifth-floor conference room today and some things begged to be discussed in person.

  The tech poured herself a cup of coffee, heavy on the sugar and cream, and refilled her boss’s mug of inky black brew. She sat across from her and waited quietly while the other woman finished whatever she was typing into her tablet, pushed it away, and drew the coffee closer and took a grateful drink. “I think you saved me. Somewhere along the way, I fell down a paperwork rabbit hole and lost track of time and space. I might have been here for a caffeine-less eternity if you hadn’t interrupted it.”

  Her companion laughed. “I’m glad I could help. Do you have a few minutes to chat?”

  Diana rolled her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, we got Sloan out. What the hell do you want now, woman?”

  “I want to keep our people safe, same as always. This time, though, I’m more concerned about you and Cara.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “I overheard Sarah talking to herself—or to whoever she magically speaks with. If I read between the lines correctly, they’re planning to escalate their efforts to kill you and Cara, with the goal of doing it sometime in the next week.”

  “That’s ambitious.”

  “Right? But that’s not all. She mentioned ‘help’ as if she would have some from Oriceran or wherever she goes when she zones out.”

  “That could be a problem, I suppose, depending on who’s coming. But it’s good to know. Anything else useful?”

  “Yeah.” The tech laughed. “Our favorite witch threw one hell of a temper tantrum before she phoned home.”

  Diana leaned forward. “Really?”

  “Yep. She blasted a statue to pieces with her wand and tried to throw a table through the window.”

  They laughed together, and the boss asked, “What set her off?”

  “Sloan. And humans in general, I think.”

  “I’d say that’s outstanding.”

  Kayleigh took a sip of her coffee. “I wondered if there was a way to exploit that.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, my thought is that if she’s emotional, she’s less in control. If she’s less in control, that’s all the better for us. Perhaps we could find ways to put pressure on her and try to make her upset.”

  Diana pointed at her. “That is an excellent idea. You get a gold star for the day. What do you have in mind?”

  “Oh, I’m sure Deacon and I could come up with something. Off the top of my head, I think insects in their base, or maybe bees. Track some of the members and have them picked up by police or by our bounty people if we want to score a double win. You know, stupid stuff that’s simply annoying enough to stack up.”

  “I love this plan. Make it happen. I bet Rath would have some great ideas too.”

  The tech stood and grinned. “You’ve got it, boss. I’ll get right on it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Diana and Rath stepped through the portal into a corner of the basement of Nylotte’s shop and she instantly felt the pull of the sword. Fury rested in a weapon stand in the center of the ward rings, which the Drow had told her were kept active at all times since the arrival of the blade. Even through the protective magics, it called to her. Footsteps sounded on the staircase, and both her teacher and Cara descended to join her. Her second in command had her artifact daggers, Angel and Demon, sheathed at her hips. They’d all agreed that having them around but outside the wards for this effort would be a sensible precaution.

  She’d chosen a Siouxsie and the Banshees t-shirt for the day, along with her tactical pants and spy boots. The others were also dressed mainly in black. Cara wore an almost identical outfit with a Van Halen shirt, and the Dark Elf had simply donned her usual leather pants and tight black tunic. Rath’s t-shirt had a picture of Judge Dredd on it. Cara broke the silence. “Are you sure you’re up for this, boss? It’s not like the thing expires if you wait a while.”

  “True, but it’s beyond stupid to have a powerful ally you leave on the bench.” She shook her head to clear the slight temptation to put this off for another day.

  “Agreed. I’m only doing my job and trying to keep you from being a looney tune.”

  “You’re far too late,” Nylotte replied. “She’s been looney for as long as I’ve known her.”

  Rath agreed. “Totally looney.”

  Diana put her hands on her hips and glared at them. “So, this is what you two do when I’m not around—think of new ways to insult me? Nice. Really nice.” She pointed at the troll. “And you, the greatest traitor of all.” He laughed and she smiled at him. The banter no doubt did the same thing for the others as it did for her, providing a way to not focus on the enormity of the task ahead. The real wounds Cara had taken from the daggers when she fought to master them were at the forefront of her mind, alongside the acknowledgment that a greatsword would cause a much bigger injury if the same scenario occurred. She was heartened to see the array of potions that waited on a bench outside the circular protections.

  Her teacher gestured, and the outermost magical ring deactivated. “Well, there’s no time like the present, protege.”

  After a single decisive nod, she drew a deep breath and stepped across the line. The power sprang to life behind her and the circle before her fell. She took another step, and only the center barrier now remained with two layers of defenses behind her. It vanished, and she lowered herself carefully to the lotus position behind the frame that supported the weapon, careful not to accidentally brush the metal. Her own mental barriers were as strong as she could make them, and she resolutely pushed aside all her fears that she might not be up to the task. She had won the sword fair and square, and its former owner had not seemed to be an intellectual giant. Hopefully, whatever lay inside the weapon would consider her an upgrade.

  She realized she was stalling when the mental image of herself appeared and tapped her foot, her arms folded and head shaking. Fine. Let’s do this. She stretched her hand tentatively to touch the sword, and the world exploded in shards of bright light and radiant color and thrust her into an endless fall into the void.

  Cara had described the arid and cracked landscape on which she’d battled the daggers, and Diana had imagined her test would take place in the same arena. When her vision returned and she became aware of her surroundings, it was clear her assumption had been utterly wrong. She sat in the center of a gorgeous garden, where gravel-filled paths meandered between sections of carefully manicured trees, bushes, and flowers. She rose gracefully to her feet and turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. A crunching sound behind her caught her attention and she pivoted to discover a young man, probably in his early teens, standing before her. His shoulder-length black hair lay against his pale skin, and his eyes were a shade of blue she’d never seen before. He wore simple sandals, white pants, and an ebony button-down tunic that ended in an upright collar.

  He bowed, and not knowing how else to respond, she did the same in return. A grin broke out on his face. “Welcome to the test, bearer.”

  She
nodded. “Are you my foe in this place?”

  His laugh was innocent and joyful. “No, I am not. I am only a shadow of the past sent to escort you forward and prepare you for the rite to come.” He gestured at a path, and she stepped beside him as he walked ahead. “As you are already aware, Fury can only be transferred with the death of the former bearer. However, simply gaining possession of the blade does not give you access to its power. That must be won separately.”

  She nodded. She knew that much from Cara’s experience. “How about a game of checkers? I’m reasonably good at that.”

  He laughed again. “If such things were possible, Fury’s soul would be far less burdened with the deaths of those who have tried and failed to master him.”

  Okay, that’s kind of a dark thing for someone who’s not in high school yet to say. “How are you connected to the sword? Was your, uh, life, trapped inside the artifact as well?”

  Her guide pointed to a side path and preceded her onto it with a shake of his head. “Oh, no. There is only one essence inside the blade. However, it has been present long enough that separate parts have splintered to address various needs. I am one of those parts, a memory of the warrior’s childhood.”

  “The warrior? The person who was placed into the sword?”

  “Yes.”

  She swallowed hard and asked before she could convince herself not to. “Was he…I mean…were you a volunteer?”

  The boy nodded as if the question was no more or less serious than an inquiry about the weather would have been. “We were. It was a great honor to be chosen. We fought many battles before being considered for the transformation and many more to earn the right to be the one.”

  She expelled the breath she’d held. “That is a relief. I am glad to hear it.”

  He nodded. “You might wish that we were less, though, when the trial begins.”

  “May I ask you about the trial?”

  “That is not my purpose. You should wait to meet the warrior himself for that.”

  “Okay. I can understand that.”

  The path led to an archway of dark wood comprised of two supports plus a curved lintel. It was engraved with runes she couldn’t read and green vines snaked around the top and dangled from the crosspiece. Beyond it, the trail continued and curved to the right. He stopped, stepped forward, and turned to face her. “You have reached the moment of decision, bearer. Some who come this far discover they do not have the fortitude to continue, knowing their life will be at risk. If you wish, we can simply proceed along the path and it will bring you back to your home unharmed. This is your final opportunity to choose that route, however. Should you decide to pursue the power of the sword, you will win or you will die—both here and in your world.” He spoke softly. “And it has not, in the past, been a good end for those who have failed but one filled with agony and regret.”

  “You’re quite the salesman.”

  He laughed. “I do what I was made to do, bearer, and nothing more.”

  She closed her eyes and considered the options. Is the sword essential to defeating the Remembrance? Probably not. ARES had an arsenal of guns and bullets and could bring more people in if necessary. She’d be lying to herself if she said it was only about doing the job. Do I need the power it offers? That question was harder. Deep inside, the urge to excel at her magic drove her as hard as anything in her life ever had. The weapon would be a major step forward in that arena, one she was unlikely to be able to duplicate on her own. Is it enough that I want it to keep it out of the hands of bad people?

  Mental Diana flickered into view, laughed at her, and said, “Oh, so noble,” before she vanished. Okay, fair enough, that’s merely an excuse. So why do I really want the sword? In the end, it was the same answer as she’d given to every challenge she’d faced in her life and career. I want to be everything I can be, which means facing every challenge that presents itself, no matter how frightening it might seem.

  The young man must have sensed that she’d reached a decision. “Your choice, bearer?”

  She opened her eyes and gazed at him with a smile. “I didn’t come all this way to back out now.”

  He turned and brushed several of the runes with his fingertips and they immediately glowed. When he crossed the path and did the same on the opposite support, the area formed by the structure began to glow as well. The continuation of the trail vanished, replaced by a misty golden view of an undefined space. She couldn’t help herself and walked forward to peer around the side of the post and look behind the arch. The path continued ahead. She drew back and saw the rich haze and the unknown space behind it, which was definitely not the same as what was on the other side. He pointed forward. “To continue the trial, you must pass through the portal. I will not accompany you further.”

  Diana sighed. “Thank you for your guidance thus far. Do you have any tips?”

  “I have escorted many challengers to this point.” Her guide smiled.” Some have selected the easy path and returned to their lives unharmed. I always wondered how they would be able to live with themselves, having discovered themselves lacking when offered such an opportunity. Others have continued and succeeded or failed as their own natures demanded. The only truth I have to share is that those who are honest with themselves—who truly know who they are and what they desire—seem to fare better than those who do not.”

  She placed a fist in her open palm and bowed to her escort, who returned the gesture with his own fluid motion. “That is an entirely useful perspective. Thank you.” He nodded and she stepped forward into the golden haze, hoping she was truly as ready for the battle to come as she thought she was.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The golden mists parted as Diana walked through them and the garden vanished behind her as she emerged into what was undoubtedly the most beautiful dojo she had ever seen. It was classically Japanese, with ornamental bamboo mats covering the floor in an intricate pattern, a peaked roof several stories above, and white panels all around that permitted light to diffuse into the room. Every structural piece was dark wood, identical to that in the arch that had led her there, but instead of engravings, the surfaces were polished until they shone.

  The space was rectangular and the front was one of the short sides, indicated by the presence of an ornamental sword holder. In it lay a representation of Fury, the greatsword unsheathed and shining in the ebony frame. On the floor before it knelt a figure in a grey tunic and a black skirt spread out around him. The being had long, straight black hair gathered in a high knot like a ponytail, and she could see the curve of bangs falling to the side of its face. The voice was deep and resonant, providing the first clue to the figure’s gender. “Welcome, bearer.”

  She advanced slowly until she was beside the man and knelt, keeping her eyes forward on the sword. It was purer and sharper than she recalled from the previous battle, the blade shining silver with ebony runes on it and the hilt wound with beautiful leather. The crossguard appeared simultaneously too ornamental to function and strong enough to stop any attack. There was a sense of potential from it, of power and violence and purity that simply awaited a direction in which to act. “Thank you. I don’t know what to call you.”

  His grin was visible in the corner of her eye. “Fury will do.”

  “Did you choose that name or was it chosen for you?”

  “I was given the privilege of selecting it prior to my transformation.”

  “And you truly were a volunteer?”

  He nodded quickly. “I was. It was a great honor at the time, one I coveted with all I was. Not only did I willingly make the choice, I fought for the right to do so. I endured countless battles to prove my worth as a champion, then countless more to defeat the other champions.”

  A shiver ran through her. “To the death?”

  His voice revealed the presence of a smile. “Only the initial battles. Champions killing one another would have weakened our master’s power base. Those matches were sport but no less
vicious for it. There were deaths, despite his admonition to avoid it. The prize was immeasurable to us. Immortality in recognition of prowess. What warrior could ask for more?”

  “Did you make the right decision?”

  “I do not concern myself with such questions. I made a decision and I live with the results. Sometimes, I have a wielder who is attuned to the sensibilities I held when I was alive and I am content to help them. At other times, the match is not as appealing and I am content to wait until the sword changes hands again.”

  She forced herself not to look at him, despite her desire to know more—to know everything she could before the test to come. “What sensibilities are those?”

  He finally turned to her and a smile graced his handsome face, which was unlike any combination of features she’d seen before. Elegant, surely, with fine cheekbones and gorgeous eyes but not quite Elven and certainly not human. “Ah, bearer, that would be telling.”

  Diana laughed and he did as well. With a nod, she asked, “What can you tell me about the trial to come?”

  Fury rose to his feet and she followed suit. He turned, faced the dojo, and gestured at the walls. “It will happen here. There are no rules, although honorable conduct is always preferred. If you are able to defeat me, you will earn the right to wield the full power of the weapon. If you are not able to defeat me, you will almost certainly die.”

  “It’s not guaranteed?”

  He shrugged. “I know very little of what happens in your world, so I have no way to know if you can survive the damage you would take in losing in combat. It does not seem likely to me, but I hesitate to say it is entirely sure.”

  “That makes sense. I appreciate your clarity.”

  He inclined his head, then swept his arms wide. A shimmer flowed over the space and when it cleared, weapons and shields hung from every surface. Many of them she recognized but some were utterly unfamiliar. She wandered slowly past them and examined her options. Fury did not pressure her. In fact, he seemed as if he would willingly wait for an eternity. She ran her fingers along the dull edge of a wicked-looking scimitar and asked, “So, I have to choose?”