by Edward Cox
The view shifted, slipped along the wall until it reached an area where a high section of the makeshift defences filled a gap between two grassy hillocks. Before it, one of the huge guns had been wheeled into position. Its lamppost-sized barrel was pointed at the enemy. It was an ornately designed weapon, looking almost like an antique; its metal body was fat and inlaid with curving symbols, with a glowing power stone as large as an eye device set into its side. An Aelfirian soldier sat behind the gun’s controls, pulling levers and turning wheels, adjusting the height and aim of the long barrel.
On the ground beside the gun was a pallet upon which missiles had been stacked into a pyramid. In the middle of each bullet-shaped missile was glass casing, within which the light of magic glowed and swirled. Just as two more soldiers lifted a missile between them and began loading it into the gun, Captain Eddine gave a sudden growl and addressed his watchers with some urgency.
‘Tell those gunners to move position—’
He didn’t get the chance to finish the order as an enemy missile cleared the defences and smashed into the pyramid of ammunition.
The explosion blinded Marney. She turned her face from the fierce glare, yelping, dropping her coffee, struggling to keep control of her emotions. She felt Denton’s empathy helping her to remain calm. His hand squeezed her shoulder.
When Marney looked back, she was surprised to see that the explosion hadn’t devastated the area, but had created a dome of magic like a perverse snow globe containing a firestorm. The magical energy swirled within the dome, pale pink and blistering, raging with the force of a tempest. Silent and fierce, it burned for only a short while, but again Marney had to avert her eyes from the glare. When the storm of magic had subsided, Marney saw that it had reduced the gun to a shapeless mound of molten metal, and had left behind not one trace of the three Aelfirian soldiers.
‘Damn it!’ Captain Eddine shouted.
The shockwave from the explosion had demolished the section of defensive wall that ran between the two hillocks.
Eddine wheeled around. ‘Find an engineering crew and fix that breach,’ he barked at Morren. ‘Take a squadron of reserves to guard the work. Go! Now, Lieutenant!’
‘Wait, sir,’ Morren answered. He pointed at the imagery. ‘It’s Lord Habriel …’
On the battlefield, a tall, broad man walked into view. He wore purple robes; his back was turned to the spectators in the command centre. The breeze fluttered his unruly black hair.
‘Of course it’s Habriel,’ Eddine said, unimpressed. ‘Who else could contain a blast like that?’
‘You … you have a Thaumaturgist fighting for you?’ Denton asked. His emotions were closed down, and his voice was barely above a whisper.
Eddine grunted. ‘Yes – for all the good he does us.’
Marney could tell the captain believed Denton would be impressed that the Union of Twins had a Thaumaturgist fighting for its army, but he was mistaken. The old empath’s emotions might have been locked down and hidden, but Marney easily sensed the anxiety that accompanied his question.
Lord Habriel stared fixedly at the breach in the defensive wall. All the while there was tense silence in the control room. Marney allowed enough of the atmosphere to invade her apathetic shield to register sadness diluting hope within Morren; but within Eddine there was cold misery, hard as ice, and utter acceptance that his life had long ago passed the point of despair.
Unable to stand the silence anymore, Marney rose to her feet. She shared a quick look with Denton, and then gestured to the Thaumaturgist out on the battlefield. ‘What’s he doing?’ she asked the Aelfirian soldiers.
‘Waiting,’ Eddine stated humourlessly.
Morren was more forthcoming. ‘Lord Habriel bolstered the defensive wall with thaumaturgy. Nothing living can cross it. However, the enemy occasionally damages the wall enough to create a gap. Habriel is waiting for what will be sent to take advantage of it.’ He looked at the empaths with scared eyes. ‘We might have a Thaumaturgist on our side, but the enemy has a Genii.’
As he said this, and as Marney blocked a pulse of fear threatening to invade her emotions, the breach in the defensive wall was assaulted by a strange darkness.
It appeared at first as though a flock of blackbirds had descended from the sky. Fluttering, hopping, they landed and perched, filling the gap. As if waiting for the battle to offer them carrion to fill their hunger, they did not venture beyond the wall. Only on closer scrutiny did Marney realise they weren’t birds at all. Without true shape or form, thin enough to be almost two-dimensional, they were more like the shards of a broken shadow. Whatever dire purpose these things had been created for, it was evident that Morren and Eddine had seen them before; Marney could sense their fearful recognition. This was Genii magic.
‘Come on,’ Eddine urged in a hoarse whisper. ‘Do something!’
The Thaumaturgist Lord Habriel took two steps towards the breach, and the flock of shadow shards shifted, fluttered almost. He splayed his fingers and pointed them at the ground; his skin began glowing with a pale radiance. The air around him wavered as though trapping him within a bubble of something liquid. On the far side of the river, enemy riflemen were trying to take advantage of the situation; they fired through the gap in the wall, but their bullets melted upon hitting the wavering barrier surrounding the Thaumaturgist, sending molten metal splashing and hissing to the muddy ground.
The flock of shadows shifted again, and then sped from the breach to attack the Thaumaturgist. Lord Habriel released the thaumaturgy he had summoned.
The fluid bubble expanded like a shockwave. When it met the broken shadows, the Thaumaturgist’s spell altered the Genii magic, and the shards immediately changed. Each shadow glowed with dazzling pearlescent colours; and then, as a single flock, they launched into the air and flew back across the river, speeding back towards their creator as a host of shooting stars.
Lord Habriel gestured at the defensive wall. The air within the breach distorted and churned into swirling energy that sucked up debris from the area like a vortex. When the energy receded, it left behind a new section of solid wall made from all manner of materials.
Morren released a relieved breath. Captain Eddine, still tense, stared at the image of the Thaumaturgist. Marney looked to Denton, and the old empath motioned for silence.
Out on the battlefield, Lord Habriel stiffened as though he sensed he was being watched. He turned and stared directly into the command centre, allowing Marney her first look at his face. She resisted the urge to step back.
She hadn’t expected this creature of higher magic to be as young-looking. His face was smooth, his features were sharply defined, without a single line of age or wrinkle of worry. On his forehead, the tattoo of a black diamond stood out on his skin. The expression on Lord Habriel’s face was one of curiosity. He stepped forwards.
‘Oh shit,’ Denton muttered to Marney. ‘This isn’t good.’ He allowed his protégée to feel his fear, and his voice entered her mind. Whatever happens, keep your mouth shut, your thoughts to yourself, and let me do the talking.
Habriel kept advancing until it seemed he must surely move out of view. But the projected imagery fizzed with a burst of static, and then the Thaumaturgist slipped from the image of the battlefield into the control room.
Bowing his head, Morren backed away until he was practically hiding behind Marney. Eddine held his ground, though he seemed unwilling to look directly at the creature of higher magic. Denton began crushing his hat in his hands, encouraging Marney to bolster the barrier of apathy around her emotions.
Lord Habriel scoured the room with bright green eyes flecked with copper, paying particular attention to Marney and Denton.
‘Captain Eddine,’ he said after a while, his voice a slice of tranquillity. ‘Would you mind explaining why there are two humans in your control room?’
‘I … I …
’ Eddine took a breath. ‘I received a message sphere this morning,’ he said deferentially. ‘I was told these humans would be visiting the Union of Twins, and—’
‘Who, Captain?’ Habriel interrupted gently. ‘Who sent you a message sphere?’
‘I don’t know. It was sent anonymously.’
‘And this didn’t strike you as strange?’ A light smile quirked the Thaumaturgist’s lips. ‘You didn’t think to inform me?’
‘No, my lord, I—’
‘Have you at least discovered the reason for their visit, Captain?’
‘I haven’t had time to ask them anything!’ Eddine snapped. His face reddened, but still his eyes were averted. ‘And I didn’t question the message in that bloody sphere because it came with the mark of the Thaumaturgists,’ he added angrily.
Habriel paused. ‘Have I offended you?’ he said lightly, but he glared until Eddine mumbled an apology for his outburst. ‘That’s better, Captain.’
Marney had been warned in the past that Thaumaturgists could be arrogant, capricious, hostile. The way Habriel carried himself was poised between benevolence and intolerance, but never far from dangerous. He seemed pleased with having intimidated Eddine into an apology.
‘Perhaps I can offer you an explanation, my lord,’ Denton ventured, his voice smaller than Marney had ever heard it before.
The old empath stepped forwards, holding out the sigil wallet for the Thaumaturgist. Habriel stared at the wallet for a moment, then finally took it, flipped it open, and touched a finger to the plate of strange metal inside.
A further moment passed, and then the Thaumaturgist raised an eyebrow.
‘The Treasured Lady,’ Habriel said to himself, and flipped the wallet closed. First looking at Denton, and then at Marney, he added, ‘Captain Eddine, I would like you to leave the room.’
‘My lord?’ Eddine replied with a touch of confusion.
‘I wish to be alone with the humans,’ Habriel replied. ‘Please leave. Take Lieutenant Morren and your watchers with you.’
The imagery of the war fought above the command room blinked out, leaving behind the dull, metallic substance that coated the back wall. The two watchers sat up on their reclining chairs, but they did not remove their receptor helmets.
‘As you wish, my lord,’ Eddine said grimly. ‘Everybody, with me.’
As the four Aelfir obeyed the Thaumaturgist’s order, Eddine spared an angry glance for Marney and Denton. Morren’s expression was more sympathetic, perhaps apologetic. Once they were alone, Habriel handed the sigil wallet back to Denton. Marney felt scared, and she projected her mental voice to her mentor.
Denton, I—
Quiet! Denton snapped back. I told you to say nothing!
Habriel was staring at Marney, not quite amused, but definitely not indifferent.
The old man is quite wise to say this, the Thaumaturgist’s tranquil voice said in her mind. I can easily read your magic, young empath.
‘But I’ll hear your secrets only if I choose to,’ Habriel said aloud. He took a thoughtful breath. ‘So, you are magickers of the Relic Guild, humans of Labrys Town, and you are operating covertly on the orders of Lady Amilee. Where, I wonder, should we begin this discussion?’
With his hands clasped before him, Habriel began pacing. He wasn’t pleased.
‘Perhaps I should start by reminding you of why we Thaumaturgists wear this diamond symbol upon our foreheads. For us, the diamond represents possibility. We ink it into our skin in such a conspicuous place because it is also a symbol of the promise we make to serve the Timewatcher – that we will show Her nothing but unquestioning faith and love. It’s a mark of loyalty. Trust.’
‘My lord,’ said Denton, but Habriel cut him off.
‘You will speak when I wish you to.’ The Thaumaturgist looked up at the ceiling. ‘Now, the Genii broke the promises they made to the Timewatcher. They burned the diamond symbol from their skin with acid, and now wear their scars with pride, in open defiance of our Mother. But as you can see –’ Habriel tapped a finger against the tattoo on his forehead ‘– my promise, my faith and love for the Timewatcher, remains very much intact.’
Marney could sense no emotions coming from the Thaumaturgist, but he was obviously offended. Denton remained pensive, with his emotions closed.
‘Lady Amilee,’ Habriel continued with a musing air. ‘There is now no creature of higher magic whom the Timewatcher trusts more. Yet, it troubles me that the Skywatcher would confide in human magickers, inform the Aelfir of your movements, but not trust me – her brother Thaumaturgist – with the details of her plans.’
‘Indeed, my lord,’ Denton said quietly.
Habriel considered Denton. ‘At least you’re smart enough to show respect. Now please tell me why this House interests Lady Amilee. What is it in the Union of Twins that she wants?’
‘Nothing, my lord.’
‘Nothing,’ Habriel repeated in a dangerous whisper.
Still crushing his hat, Denton looked at his feet. Marney did the same. Only then did she realise just how secret this mission to find the Library of Glass and Mirrors was. Could it be that Lady Amilee had informed no other Thaumaturgist of her plans? Did Lord Habriel know that Fabian Moor was loose in Labrys Town?
‘I’m waiting for an explanation,’ Habriel said primly.
‘We …’ Denton stopped crushing his hat, and his hands dropped to his sides in a defeated gesture. ‘We are only passing through the Union of Twins. We need to reach the portal that leads to Ghost Mist Veldt.’
‘I find this strange,’ Habriel said after a moment’s consideration. ‘If your goal is to reach another Aelfirian House, why circumnavigate through the Union of Twins at all? There is, after all, a doorway to Ghost Mist Veldt in the Great Labyrinth, is there not? Why didn’t Lady Amilee send you directly to your true destination?’
‘Ghost Mist Veldt isn’t our true destination,’ Denton replied.
‘I am not fond of my questions being answered with evasion, old empath,’ Habriel said warningly, and then he shrugged. ‘Nonetheless, the same logic applies. Why aren’t you taking the direct route?’
Denton cleared his throat. ‘With respect, my lord, as a creature of higher magic, you can surely fathom a reason for our circumnavigation?’
‘Ah! Then perhaps I can.’ Habriel looked directly at Marney, and he seemed to know that she didn’t have the faintest clue as to what Denton was talking about. It amused him. ‘Now, old empath, you will tell me where, ultimately, Lady Amilee is sending you.’
‘Forgive me, my lord, but I cannot.’
Habriel’s amused expression became mixed with pity. ‘I have heard that you magickers of the Relic Guild are courageous and loyal, but to defy a Thaumaturgist to his face? That is brave of you indeed. Or perhaps stupid.’
Denton didn’t quite look at Habriel’s face, and raised his hands in a show of helplessness. ‘Please, Lord Habriel – Lady Amilee was quite clear with her instructions.’
‘Was she now?’
‘And I would not betray the trust of a Thaumaturgist who, as you rightly say, is so highly esteemed in the eyes of the Timewatcher Herself.’
All sign of amusement and pity dropped from the Thaumaturgist’s face, and he drew himself up.
Marney couldn’t quite believe that her mentor had just made a thinly veiled threat to a creature of higher magic. It felt to her as if the thaumaturgy held within Lord Habriel’s body filled the room, pressing against her, holding her ready for a blow.
‘My friends,’ Habriel said almost in a hiss. ‘If Lady Amilee has need to keep her secrets, then I must trust her reasoning. But do not think for a moment that I will tolerate your impudence simply because you carry out the behest of a Skywatcher.’
He turned away from the empaths and stepped towards the metallic wall. ‘Rather inconveniently, all the
portals in the Union of Twins stand on the open ground between the city and the river. The enemy’s snipers watch them night and day. It is doubtful that you would reach your destination before being killed.’ He faced the magickers with a supercilious expression. ‘I suppose I could help you reach the portal to Ghost Mist Veldt, but if Lady Amilee is certain that you must not include me in her plans, it is perhaps best if I do not get involved at all.’
‘Please, I beg you, my lord,’ Denton said, his head bowed again. ‘Whatever slight you feel at Lady Amilee’s methods, the mission we are on is important to the war—’
Denton was interrupted as the wailing of a siren filtered down into the underground command room from above. As the Thaumaturgist looked up at the ceiling, listening, Lieutenant Morren rushed into the room.
‘Forgive the intrusion, Lord Habriel,’ Morren said quickly, a little out of breath, his young face creased with panic. ‘It’s the Genii, my lord. She’s attacking.’
Without a hint of concern on his smooth and unblemished face, Habriel raised an eyebrow at the empaths. ‘Perhaps circumstance will favour you.’
He turned to the back wall again and flicked a finger at its dull metal coating. Instantly the images of war filled the control room. Soldiers were running in all directions, and gunners were hastily adjusting the aims of their mighty guns.
‘Lieutenant Morren,’ the Thaumaturgist said, walking forwards, ‘while the soldiers are distracted, please escort our human guests to Ghost Mist Veldt.’
Morren frowned. ‘Umm … yes, my lord.’
But Habriel had already stepped into the imagery, using his thaumaturgy to cross the divide between the control room and the world outside. Once again he stood amidst the chaos of war.
In a foul mood, Samuel made his way through the south side of Labrys Town, heading into a two-square-mile landscape of storage warehouses. It was around midday, he was sure, but he didn’t really care. All he knew was that the glare of the sun, high and bright in the clear blue sky, felt like a hammer pounding nails into his temples and eyes. By the time Samuel reached his destination, he was beginning to suspect there would never be an end to this savage hangover.