by Simon Hawke
“I remember. You said they would unite and crush us if we resisted,” Beladon replied dryly. “I concede that you were right about that. I can scarcely argue the point after being entombed for over two millennia. We had grown complacent. We were not prepared. We were not strong enough.”
“Only because we did not try to unite our strength until it was too late,” said Talon. “None of the others ever regarded the Council of the White as a serious threat. They were all too busy competing against one another. That was the essential difference between the Council and ourselves. They knew how to work together. We dismissed them as a bunch of Old Ones who had gone weak and sentimental with age. We were the Dark Ones, arrogant in our pride and obstinate in our adherence to the old ways. What we never understood, and what the Old Ones did, was the true nature of power. It is a force that feeds upon itself. The more you have, the more you need. It becomes a vicious circle from which there is only one path of escape. The path of discipline and moderation. The Old Ones realized that. We never did. In that sense, you are right. We were not strong enough.”
“So how does all this fit into your enlightened realization?” asked Beladon as he glanced around him. “Hiding in a mountaintop retreat, playing at being a human monk with an environmental awareness and a social conscience… Do you seriously hope to convince the avatars that you’ve reformed in the event they find you? Sooner or later, they will, you know. I did.”
“Only because I let you,” Talon replied. “Had I truly wished to hide, you never would have found me. There is rather more to this place than meets the eye. Observe…”
Talon made a languid pass with his hands and the floor began to open up. The hard saltillo tiles seemed to liquefy as they rippled and flowed, melting back to create a circular opening that grew wider and wider until it was at least eight feet across. Beladon glanced into the opening and saw a stone stairway leading down into the darkness.
Talon cocked his head and indicated the opening in the floor. “After you.”
“You first,” Beladon replied cautiously.
Talon smiled. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Frankly, no.”
“And yet, it was you who came to me,” said Talon, gesturing from Beladon to himself.
“I had little choice. Alone against the avatars, I stand no chance. And neither do you. They shall hunt us down, relentlessly. They must, for they know that given the opportunity to grow strong enough, it is we who shall hunt them. We cannot afford our old rivalries, Talon. We must work together, as they do.”
“But that is just what I have always said,” Talon replied.
“In the old days, yes. But as you said, times have changed. And so have you, apparently. I find you in retreat upon a desert mountaintop, cloistered with the dregs of humanity and cloaked with their religious symbols. I remain committed to the old ways, however, and have yet to be convinced that does not make me a threat to you.”
“Well, in that case, prepare to be convinced.” Talon got up and descended the stone stairs. Beladon followed. Behind them, the floor sealed itself up once again and they were plunged into total darkness.
A moment later, torches blazed up in black iron sconces set into the rough, irregular rock walls. Their voices and footsteps echoed in the cool passageway as they moved down the long, curving stairs.
“Where does this lead?” asked Beladon. “Some sort of old government installation?”
“That would have been convenient, but there would have been a record of that somewhere and it would not have served my purposes,” Talon replied as they continued down the narrow, spiraling passageway. “No, I excavated this tunnel myself.”
“You?” Beladon was surprised. That would have required a considerable expenditure of energy. “Where did you gain the power?”
“From the people of the enclave,” Talon said. “And to anticipate your next question, no, I did not kill any of them. That would have drawn suspicion. There would have been concerned inquiries from relatives, investigations by officers of the court, bureaucrats, police, and so forth. Killing humans can be rather complicated these days, as you have already discovered. Instead, I merely drained off some of their life force. It was fairly simple to make it look like a flu epidemic. They were sick for several weeks, but they all recovered. You might say I borrowed the methods of the Council from the old days. How did they put it… conserving the human resource? Within certain limitations, humans are not only more useful when their life energy is allowed to remain, they also develop a dependency. If they are kept in a slightly weakened state, they become much more docile and easier to manage.”
“I see,” said Beladon. “But then you are still faced with the same problem that led to our break with the Council all those years ago.”
“True,” said Talon. “Pure necromancy requires the complete consumption of life force. It is that last essential spark of life that provides the necessary energy to fuel the more ambitious spells and imbues the adept with greater strength. I have still not found any way around that. However, survival requires adaptation. That is something the humans have learned well. As I said, they have become a great deal more sophisticated, but that merely requires a variation of approach in dealing with them. If you try controlling them by fear, as we did in the old days, then eventually the point will come when they rebel. Yet for all the progress they have made, they still have a yearning for spiritual understanding. They still want their gods, in other words, or God, as the case may be. And that desire can be exploited. Instead of controlling them with fear, I offer greater understanding.”
“So then you have become a priest “ said Beladon with a snort.
“Well, in a manner of speaking, I suppose I have,” Talon replied. “A high priest. It is a role that we have played before. You must admit it has its uses. Humans were always fond of ritual. In that respect, they have not changed. However far they may fall from their spiritual traditions, those traditions still remain a part of their experience. It does not take much to bring them out once more.”
“Brother Talon, shepherd to his flock of sheep,” said Beladon dryly.
“Have your methods brought you further?” Talon countered.
“They would have, if Calador and Delana had done their part and followed my orders. And if those cursed avatars hadn’t interfered.”
“You knew about the avatars,” said Talon. “And blaming others for the failure of your plans, whether the blame is justified or not, does not change the end result. You and the others were always too impatient, Beladon. However, I will grant you that you were not so narrow-minded as the rest. You, at least, had the wisdom to recognize that you required my help.”
Before long, they came to the bottom of the flight of stairs, which opened out into a large cavern. Beladon stopped and stared. Thick stalagmites stood like sentinels, reaching high above his head, and stalactites of equal size hung from the ceiling, some of them joining the stalagmites below to form massive columns that tapered at the middle. Shimmering crystals veined the rock walls and the sound of an underground spring burbled gently as it emptied into a subterranean pool in the middle of the cavern.
However, what drew his gaze was the massive altar built upon a natural stone outcropping just behind the pool. A ledge projected a short distance out over the water, providing a natural stage or pulpit. A stone arch spanning the pool functioned as a bridge to the altar, which was surmounted by a formation of large quartz crystals resembling organ pipes. It was beautiful, but at the same time, rather unsettling. It reminded Beladon too much of the underground cavern in the Euphrates Valley where they had been entombed by the Old Ones of the Council. But for a chance discovery by an archaeological expedition, they might still be there.
“This is a natural cavern, millions of years old, as you can tell by the formations,” Talon said, apparently undisturbed by the similarity to their old place of confinement. “So far as I can tell, no one ever knew it was here. I detected it tunneled down to it, a
nd immediately realized its potential. The mission on the surface functions as the spiritual center for the general population of the enclave, but this is where I bring my select initiates.”
“Initiates?” asked Beladon with a frown.
“Those who possess the latent ability for magic use,” said Talon. “They don’t all get spotted in the Bureau screening tests, you know. A lot of them wind up falling through the cracks of the system, particularly those from lower income groups who drop out of school early. Also, the Bureau’s tests are not infallible, by any means. They usually reveal those with a strong latent potential, but not always, and borderline cases are often not spotted. And I hate to see potential go to waste.”
“You mean to say you teach them necromancy?” Beladon said with disbelief.
“why not?” “Are you mad? The’re humans!”
“Strictly speaking, the ones with the capability to use magic are not completely human. they inherited that potential because somewhere in their distant past, one of us mated with one of their ancestors. For generations, that potential remained dormant in most of them, sometimes manifesting as what came to be called extrasensory perception or parapsychological abilities. In less enlightened times, it got many of them killed. It took a long time for their old fears to die. Granted, the strain became diluted over the years, so they will never grow as strong as we are, but breeding tells, as they say. It’s a very dominant gene. Without us, there would have been no Bureau of Thaumaturgy or ITC. For that matter, there would have been no Merlin Ambrosius to return and usher in their age of magic.”
“It’s bad enough that Ambrosius taught them how to use white magic,” Beladon said. “Now you propose to teach them necromancy? Give them even more power? They will only turn that knowledge against us!”
“Those are the old prejudices speaking,” Talon replied. “We no longer have time for them. We are a dying race. And we have brought it on ourselves. Our rivalries resulted in a war that almost wiped us out and after the Council had imprisoned us, the humans proceeded to hunt down and exterminate the few survivors who remained. Once we ruled. Once we were their gods. Now we are little more than whispers in their folklore. Witches, demons, vampires, shape-shifters… that is what our legacy has become. We are the very last of our kind. And now they know about us, thanks largely to you. Perhaps the general human population doesn’t know yet, but the ITC knows. And the Bureau knows. It will only be a matter of time before they all know. Now we have more than just the avatars to contend with. We have only three choices left. We can try to hide and pass as human, as many of the others tried to do before they were eventually wiped out. We can try facing them ourselves, against overwhelming odds. Or we can raise an army. An army of human necromancers. More powerful than the adepts they train and recruited from the ranks of human predators. What could be more ideal?”
“What makes you think they will remain loyal?” Beladon asked dubiously.
“Human nature,” Talon replied with a smile. “Magic has made their lives much easier, but despite that, there are still many humans who distrust adepts. And those are adepts who use only the white magic that Ambrosius taught them. Imagine how they will react when confronted with true necromancy, magic that kills. My initiates will remain loyal because they will become addicted to their newfound power and want more. And because their fellow humans will hate and fear them for what they have become. The logic is simple. And the result is a new beginning. They will become our legacy. Our new acolytes. And we will not have to fight the avatars. They shall do it for us.”
“There are a few things you have failed to consider,” Beladon said. “For one thing, the avatars may be human, and therefore vulnerable, but they are possessed by the three runestones which hold the spirits of the Council. The avatars can be killed, but unless the milestones are also destroyed, they will merely find new hosts and new avatars will be created. Secondly, however strong your human necromancers may become, the avatars will always remain stronger, collectively and on an individual basis. It will take more than a mere handful of human acolytes to prevail against them, however well you train them. Especially since the avatars now have the backing of the Bureau and the ITC.”
“Yes, and they would not have that backing now if it were not for your carelessness,” said Talon. “By acting rashly, you and the others have made things a great deal more difficult than they had to be. Well, the others are all dead now. Which leaves only you and me.”
“And you’re going to need me if you hope to keep the avatars at bay while you train your human necromancers.”
“Not necessarily,” Talon replied offhandedly. Beladon tensed as he suddenly became aware of movement in the shadows of the cavern. Figures in hooded black robes appeared all around him, dozens of them. “You see, my plans are already well advanced. And while I do not really need you, I could certainly use your power.”
Before he could react, Beladon was struck by a blinding beam of blue-white light that bathed him from head to toe and he found himself unable to move or utter a sound. The beam was coming from one of the large crystalline formations above the stone altar over the pool. The huge, faceted crystal was glowing brightly and as he watched, the crystals alongside it in the clustered formation also began to glow, becoming brighter and brighter as the thaumaturgic force beam held him in its grip. As the other crystals brightened, they became transparent and he could see dark forms within them. As the crystals grew brighter still, he could make out what those figures were and a chill ran through him.
“I see you recognize some of our old friends,” said Talon, following his gaze toward the figures trapped inside the towering crystals. “As you can see, you were not the first to come and seek me out. But then, I was prepared for them, as I was prepared for you.”
Talon had outsmarted him. He had the spell already prepared and instead of doing it himself, he had used his acolytes to trigger it. There had been no warning whatsoever.
“With Calador and Delana dead, and the others disposed of by the avatars, you were the last one left,” said Talon. “Now we are all accounted for.”
Beladon could see the expressions on their faces now as the light from the crystals filled the cavern. And he realized with horror that they were not dead. He recognized Vorstag, Adreia, Torvig, Zelena, Corvald, and the others who had managed to escape their tomb alive. Eight of them in all, not counting himself. All trapped inside the crystals, still alive, but barely… kept in a suspended state to feed Talon’s power, which had grown greater than he could ever have anticipated.
“As I said, you and the others were always much too quick to judge,” said Talon. “Too arrogant, too rash, and much too overconfident. You dismissed me all those years ago because I was the youngest and my opinions were not worthy of consideration. You were all older, stronger, more experienced. I was expected to keep my place. Well. How very embarrassing this must be for you.”
Beladon tried his utmost to move, but he could not. He wanted to scream in rage and frustration, but he could not make a sound. Talon was drawing on the life force of the others trapped within the crystals to hold him absolutely immobile. There was nothing he could do. Nothing at all.
“Rather appropriate, don’t you think, the way things have come full circle?” Talon said. “From a subterranean tomb inside a cavern in the Euphrates Valley to a tomb inside a cavern deep within a mountain in the Arizona desert. You have traveled from one side of the world to the other, only to wind up in the same place, figuratively speaking. I rather like the irony of that.”
Fear struck Beladon as he realized there would be no escape. Not even in death. Talon would keep him imprisoned forever, just as the Old Ones of the Council had intended when they had entombed them deep within that underground pit all those centuries ago. He would be left with just enough life force to keep him alive, to enable Talon to draw upon his power, just as he was doing with the others even now. He would drain them almost to the very point of death, leaving them just enoug
h strength to allow them to recover over a period of time, only to be drained again. And again, and again, and again. For centuries to come.
The beam of force lifted him off the ground and drew him, helpless, toward the crystal that was waiting for him. As he was drawn closer to the others, he could sense their mental cries of anguish as Talon drained them to empower the spell and further build up his own strength. The crystalline formation loomed before him and the beam inexorably pulled him in, to be trapped forever like a fly in amber, a renewable, living, tortured source of energy far Talon’s spells. As he was pulled inside the crystal, he had a brief image of that BOT agent in New York, hurling himself out of a thirtieth-story window to escape him by plunging to his death. And Beladon envied him.
Chapter 1
Sebastian Makepeace was not accustomed to traveling by limousine. He was even less accustomed to being accorded such VIP treatment by the ITC, whose official scrutiny he had always carefully avoided. The International Thaumaturgical Commission was the agency that administered and regulated magic use throughout the world and they employed the highest-ranking adepts in the profession, some of whom possessed among their talents the abilities of clairvoyance and clairsentience. It wasn’t what they would see that used to worry Makepeace. It was what they wouldn’t see. And in his case, they wouldn’t see anything at all. And that would bother them. It would undoubtedly bother them enough to make them want to find out why.
Makepeace was used to people trying to dig into his past. His students did it all the time in attempts to prove that he was not, as he claimed to be, a fairy. Even in a time when magic had become commonplace, they still had difficulty accepting there was such a thing as a fairy outside the pages of the Brothers Grimm. Especially one that stood six feet six inches tall and weighed three hundred pounds. Once they stopped snickering at the idea, they usually set about trying to prove that Makepeace was as human as they were, albeit considerably more eccentric.