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Power Page 7

by Doug Burbey


  The next few months Shane traveled to various countries searching for information on Merlin. Travel between countries had gotten easier since no one worried about terrorists anymore. Demons were scarier. While his official listed state was deceased, killed in action, he'd gone to enough countries while serving to know how to get where he needed without various governments being aware of his presence. Beguilement helped with that too, as well as getting him access to various libraries and archives.

  Given that Merlin myths originated in the British Isles, he headed there first. But for all their vaunted records, all he found was the same trite stuff the courtiers had used to woo women for centuries. Nothing struck him as interesting or even related to magic, though he did wonder if Nimue had been a Fae.

  At the Bodleian Library, he poured through the oldest stories of Arthur and Merlin. Other than a mention of a strange item Merlin had kept locked in a special box, he'd discovered nothing new.

  "You researching Arthur, too?" An earnest young woman asked him as he resisted slamming a book closed in frustration. This one again held nothing and it would probably fall apart if he treated it that harshly.

  Shane looked up at her and let himself smile. Young, thin, earnest, large glasses, mousey brown hair, she hit every stereotype of a bookworm.

  "Merlin actually."

  "Ooh, that would be an interesting thesis." She sighed as she put the two books she carried carefully back up on the receiving counter. "Most people do Arthur or Lancelot or want to create analogies of Camelot compared to something else. Not many do Merlin. What is your thesis?" Her manner engaging and friendly.

  He glanced at her badge and saw she was employed here, though it didn't tell him her rank. Not that it mattered. He had a valid pass.

  "Not a thesis, more a personal research project. With the proof of the Fae, it occurred to me that Merlin and Nimue might have been real people. I'm trying to find any books he might have written or anything that related directly to him, not to Arthur."

  She paused and looked at him, thoughtful. "That is a good point. Maybe Mab and the stories of Thomas the Rhymer are true too, or at least representations of a possible truth not pure fiction." She gave a brisk shake of her head. "The biggest problem I can see would be if he had really existed, really used magic, and actually written anything that referenced it, the Church would had seized it."

  "What?" Shane asked, leaning back in confusion.

  Her face lit up, obviously eager for a chance to talk about something he had a passion for.

  Huh, books and stories work almost as good a booze on some women. I'll have to remember that.

  "Remember most of the stuff written about Arthur was during the spread of Christianity into the Isle. The monks and crusaders that followed tended to be a bit draconian about anything that referenced any other god or magic. Many texts were burned." Shane all but flinched at that, imagining the priceless information he needed going up in flames. "But the rest, especially anything some of the more educated priest and monks recognized as valuable, was all shipped back to Rome. Now if it survived once it got there, who knows? Rome doesn't tell anyone what books they have in their secret libraries."

  She sighed, longing in the sound. "What I wouldn't give to spend a day in that library. Who knows what treasures you would find."

  "Any idea how many they actually took back, as opposed to destroyed?"

  The girl shrugged. "At least one ship's worth. There's an old record about a ship of treasures taken from the heathens being dispatched to Rome about 535 AD. If so, that would be about the right time, assuming the ship made it there. The books usually went overland, but treasures went by ship and all too often storms or pirates prevented them ever making it to their destination. I know Excalibur was never put on display, nor some of the crowns or jewels that were mentioned. Though all of that would depend on these people of legend being real. " A quick smile flashed across her face. "Me, I choose to believe. Life has enough darkness it in lately. I'd prefer to think that Merlin did exist. Nimue too." She nodded at him and slipped back out the door, leaving Shane looking at his books thoughtfully.

  He took the rest of the week to finish searching what he could, though reading Middle English both gave him a headache and took hours. But in the end he couldn't find anything else except one more reference to an item Merlin had to inspect prior to solving an issue Lancelot had brought before him.

  Shaking his head he headed out, wondering if maybe just hitting all the Fae enclaves would be easier and more profitable. But Rich had moved, that he'd verified before he left Rio, and he had no idea where any other enclave would be. They really weren't that common.

  He returned the last book and headed out, the library girl waving at him as he went. Another flash of a smile and he left the library and started making plans to work his way to Rome.

  His mind worked itself into knots trying to figure out how to get into Rome, much less the Vatican. They had all but tripled their security when the Blood War started. It wasn't until the hair stood up on the back of his arm that he realized what the sensation tickling him meant.

  All thoughts of travel were gone as he spun looking for the portal, the energy calling to him, and the fucking moron that had opened it. A pulse of magic pulled him to his right and he spun, racing down an alley, not caring about the odd looks. It led him to a closed garden gate. He kicked open the gate, using his momentum to give his kick power.

  The gate shattered, the wood more fragile than he had guessed, exposing a ring two stepping through with a weird object in his hands. A frightened man looked at him, face with another ring two. That one stood behind the human with claws around his neck.

  Shane didn't even hesitate. Across the world the penalty for opening an unsanctioned portal was death. He let the fireball go, slamming into the man and the demon. He had laced it with demon fire, though that was getting harder and harder to do as he hadn't had demon blood in months to recharge himself.

  The fire caught both the human and the demon’s head due to his angle, and all but vaporized them. The portal snapped closed, severing the demon stepping through right through the midsection.

  It screamed. A sound that made Shane drop to the ground covering his ears as he fought to stay conscious. The sound cut off with a suddenness that had him reeling. Panting, he forced his head up and looked around. The demon stepping through lay on the ground. Half of it missing.

  Exhausted Shane pushed to his feet.

  Fucking morons. They want to get people killed? If you get caught by a leftover demon, let it kill you. Better than causing everyone else to die even sooner.

  He turned, about to leave, but paused and looked back.

  Hmm. Blood. I can use some. And what is dead demon number two holding?

  Taking a minute to steady himself, he walked over to the portal demon, its upper half and part of a right leg oozing blood. Normally he'd let it soak through his skin but he stuck his hand into the open wound on the leg and let blood coat it, then stuck his hand in his mouth.

  The bitter blood, dark and laden with the essence of another world, coated his tongue. He swallowed, forcing it down his throat. The taste made him gag, then power, dark, seductive, heady, and something he hadn't realized how badly he needed, slammed into him with a body blow.

  Power surged through him with the same addictive quality as cocaine but better. Sweeter. Cocaine he had tried and ignored. This, this he craved with every cell in his body and he didn't care. Two handfuls, four, six, blood dripped down the front of his shirt and he felt glutted. He hummed with power. The emptiness filled with blood power.

  Blinking his eyes, his weariness gone, he focused on the odd contraption the demon had been holding. About the size of a large pack, it had a tank, a hose, and a few other parts that made no sense.

  Curious, the demons hadn't used many tools. So what the hell is this?

  Springing to his feet he moved to the head of the demon and looked at the object that had fallen a
few feet away. It took him lifting it up and straightening it up to figure out for sure what it was.

  "Is this a personal harvester?" His voice sounded oddly loud in the strange quiet after the fireball and death shriek. That sank into his brain.

  Fuck, I need to get out of here. This isn't Rio. People will investigate.

  He took another two minutes to figure out how to slip it on and then turn it on. Its operation seemed stupidly easy, but given ring two demons were using it, that might have been only prudent. It took him another three minutes, during which he heard the faint sounds of sirens in the distance.

  Figure it out, Gris.

  He found a button, pushed it and a humming started up and the demon's body began to vibrate, and blood started to flow towards the vacuum-like end of one of the hoses.

  Holy shit, it is.

  His grin grew bigger and bigger as the empty chamber filled with blood. When the chamber filled the demon lay there a desiccated heap and Shane wanted to do a dance of glee, but the sirens had sharply gotten louder. Casting a quick avoidance spell, though it felt like he fought through mud to cast it, he hurried out of the garden and headed away from the small area with the chamber on his back feeling like his salvation and his doom.

  Police cars with their sirens turned down the street behind him. He pushed a bit more power into his 'I'm not interesting' effect and kept walking, darting down the first alley he came to.

  After a month of using magic with relative ease, how he struggled now created a direct corollary to the demon blood creating issues. It didn't matter. The extra power would be worth it and the blood he had would be even better.

  Shane spent the rest of the walk to his hotel room trying to figure out how to store the blood for long periods of time. This would bear repeating if he could figure out how to take down the demons without draining himself. He'd figure it out. It was what he did.

  12

  Rome

  Between figuring out how to bring the harvester with him and getting to Rome, then finding a place to stay, two weeks passed before he found himself walking in Rome, trying to look like a high-end tourist in slacks, polo shirt, and sunglasses.

  Rome held so much age and beauty he found himself distracted by just looking at what made up the iconic city. He let himself be glad the Demons hadn't chosen here to come out. The destruction would have been a loss to humanity at large.

  It's still going to disappear when they come, but at least I got to see it before they grind it to dust.

  He shook his head and focused on his mission, examining the Vatican. The number of guards visible near the Vatican surprised him. He'd known the Swiss Guard were responsible for protecting the Vatican, but of every image he'd ever seen, none had ever shown this many guards-active, attentive, heavily armed, guards. The Swiss Guard were an interesting group, though they maxed out at 125 members. Most thought they were buffoons who dressed funny and acted like polite tour guides. Once upon a time Shane had felt the same way, until he found out exactly what putting on that uniform meant. After that, the Army seemed damn easy.

  Right now, between what looked like almost all of the Swiss Guard plus the Vatican City police, he didn't think he could fuzz enough people to get in. Lewl could have, sure, but him? Not a chance.

  Shane found a café that gave him some decent views, ordered an espresso and a pastry, then sat back to watch. Two hours of watching and he wanted to beat his head against the wall. While tourists could still move in and out of Saint Peter's square, every door had multiple guards. ID's were checked, visitors logged, and he wasn't some sort of action superhero to race across the rooftops to break in. He needed to be welcomed and ushered in. And he couldn't beguile that many guards.

  With a sigh, Shane got up and headed to an internet café. He needed to figure out who he needed to beguile that could get him through the guards, into the libraries, and where the libraries were located. The temptation to just blast his way in occurred to him, but then there'd be fire and bullets. Books just didn't fare well in those conditions.

  "Excuse," He said to a man hawking tours or some other touristy thing. "Is there a map of what is available to see via the tours?"

  "Si, si," The man charged him two lira for the map and walked away smiling.

  Probably got totally overcharged. Oh well.

  He looked at the map and frowned. Even the most expensive tour didn't take him anyplace he needed to go and there would be guards everywhere. It seemed like he'd need someone to get him in, which meant he needed to find someone.

  Two hours later, cranky, hungry, and needing a drink, Shane had completed his research at the internet cafe. To get to the depths he needed, he would have to find a cardinal and get that man to get him through the Vatican.

  It took another week to identify a cardinal who lived outside the protective enclave. Shane spent two days following him and trying to abstain from Demon blood. Giving up that much power created a struggle for him. His beguilement had to be high enough to get him in, but not so high any guard or guest would ping to him. And that meant Fae not Demon magic.

  A costume, I'm going to need one of those robe thingys. And try to look all religious and shit. And older.

  The cassock at least turned out relatively easy to get, along with a rosary and a black biretta. Though he used beguilement to lower the price by half. Too bad he hadn't figured out how to make money with any of the magical skills. The conjuring gold, or anything else, just didn't work that way. And carving the jewelry like Lewl had, took time, patience, and skill. Shane lacked all three.

  The cardinal he had scoped out seemed to be a creature of habit. Prayers in the morning, dressing, then coffee and pastry each morning from the same bakery while he read the paper. Dinner was picked up at the same deli each night to be eaten on his little balcony looking out over the city. Prayers at nine, then bed to get back up at five am.

  He usually sat at one of the little tables at the bakery, one of their first customers, and at this point they brought him a coffee and pastry as he sat. Today it looked like a cornetto. Having dated a pastry chef once upon a time, Shane knew the oddest things. Shane ordered a coffee and a ciambella, he would need the sugar rush. He took his items and sat across from the cardinal, pushing out magic the way he'd seen generals exude confidence.

  The cardinal glanced up at him from his paper a half frown on this face that slowly turned into a confused smile. "I feel like I should know you, signore." His voice pleasant, though his brows furrowed as he stared at Shane.

  "We met long ago, Cardinal. I fear that while my memory for your face is as accurate as ever, your name has escaped me." Shane did his best to sound humble and pious before someone of a higher rank.

  Superior officer, moron.

  "Ah, it happens to the best of us. Try reaching my age. Cardinal Josef Nowakywski."

  The name sounded vaguely Polish and Shane thought he remembered that wasn't unusual. Either way, he would take the information and run.

  "Of course. You share my Uncle’s name, though he goes by the more American version of Joseph." Shane held out his hand pushing a smile, "Marcus Vipsanius, at your service, Cardinal." He hadn't thought of that name in years, but it felt oddly right.

  The man smiled, his white hair and pale blue eyes making him look almost placid and weak, but Shane remembered his sharp eyes before the magic pushed into him. Shane kept it low and quiet. He had time to let the effect build, no need to have it snap in now. Slower was better. Lewl had shown him that much with a few forays into the city.

  They sat and chatted and Shane was very glad that Josef spoke perfect English. The Fae could learn languages quickly but there wasn't an instant translation spell.

  The toll of a bell interrupted them, and Shane pushed a bit of the beguilement. It wasn’t enough to really fuzz his brain but enough that Josef would not want to leave him.

  "I fear I have stayed over long, my secretaries must be frantic. Will you walk with me? Do you have business in the
Holy City?" Josef asked as he arose, tossing some lira notes down on the table.

  "Yes, though I maybe have avoided it too much," Shane admitted his eye downcast. "I am to seek access to the libraries to research some of the interactions between Paul and Mary. Given the uproar lately with the – " he broke off having no idea how the clergy referred to the Blood War. Hell, the public called it the Demon War. Anyone that had lived through it knew it was the Blood War.

  "Oh yes. That has caused much strife in the halls of late. I can only imagine what it must be like for the lay people. I can show you where the libraries are though I have little to do with them outside the occasional research for a sermon." Josef smiled at him. "Come with me. Do you have your pass?"

  Acting to the extent of his ability Shane cringed, folding in on himself. He didn't meet the cardinal's eyes though he cranked up the power of the beguile. "I am ashamed to admit I was pick-pocketed upon my arrival to the Holy City."

  The cardinal laughed and touched his shoulder. "There is no shame, my son. The sinners here have no respect for the cloth, but it is an easy thing to rectify. Come with me and I will get you a new pass and into where you need to go.

  Shane’s thought jumping up and down and pumping his fist might be a bit odd. Instead, he settled for kissing the man’s hand and murmuring quietly, "Bless you."

  The man grinned and Shane almost felt guilty about using him. Almost. This prize was worth doing a lot of things he'd never normally condone. Rising, he followed the man as they walked to the Vatican. Shane encouraged him to talk about the city and his life as he laced the claws of beguilement even deeper.

  Approaching the guards at one of the small, unobtrusive side entrances, the cardinal smiled. "My friend here has run afoul of the numerous petty criminals in our midst, Cristopher. Would you please get him a pass? He has access to the library for research."

  Cristopher glanced at him and Shane pushed the beguilement towards him, though he started to feel cold sweat run down his back as he tried to do two at the same time.

 

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