by Alex Steele
“Quite a fight you two had in Moira if the papers are to be believed,” Gresham commented as he led us through another door to a cozy sitting room that looked well-lived in. A fire crackled merrily on the far wall, warming the room. A small table, just big enough for four, was nestled in the corner. A single dirty dish sat on it with the remains of what looked like breakfast.
“I don’t know what the papers said, but it was a hell of a fight,” Swift said tiredly.
Gresham hung my jacket up to the side of the fire and puttered around, clearing up the dirty dishes and other clutter. “Sit down. I’ll make us tea and we can discuss why you came here today.”
“That’ll go perfect with the donuts I brought,” Swift said, holding up the bag.
He set a kettle on the stove and started pulling out biscuits — the British word for cookies. I sat down in the chair nearest the fire with a sigh of relief. The heat at my back felt good.
A newspaper laying on the table caught my eye. TERRORISTS ATTACK MAGISTERS. I tugged the paper closer with a frown.
The Mage’s Guild has declared a state of emergency after the most recent attack. Over a hundred people were arrested after the attack and are being charged with unlawful protesting and assaulting magisters, along with a dozen other charges.
Talos face was displayed in full color below the article, bold letters beneath it naming him MOST WANTED.
“Did you see this?” I asked Swift, tilting the paper toward her.
“No.” She took the paper and scanned the article. “This is insane. It was a peaceful protest until they tried to arrest Talos.”
Gresham’s bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise as he read it over her shoulder. “My goodness, that’s a surprising move. Rather harsh of them.”
“With Director Harland dead, there’s no one with enough power to contest it.” I rested my elbows on the table as a sense of exhaustion came over me. The Mage’s Guild wanted power, above all else. Even above peace. Anyone that threatened that would be treated like the enemy.
The tea kettle whistled shrilly. Gresham grabbed it immediately and brought everything to the table. We poured our drinks in companionable silence. This was going to be a long conversation, no point in rushing it.
I took a bite of a ginger biscuit. It was a little stale, so it didn’t have the snap it should, but I’d always thought that made them better. I didn’t understand the British obsession with hard cookies. Swift nudged a chocolate-covered donut toward me, which I happily accepted.
Swift washed down a bite with her tea, then set down her cup decisively. “So, this is going to sound crazy.”
Gresham perked up immediately. “All the best things do, at first.”
She smiled, and the expression softened her face as some of the tension dropped away. “To put it bluntly: gods are real. We’re not sure if these beings are what they say they are, but there are powerful, possibly immortal beings who claim to be gods. Blackwell and I have spoken to one of them several times.”
“Oh my.” Gresham leaned back in his chair, staring blankly into his tea. He was quiet long enough that I began to worry.
“Do you have any questions?” Swift prompted gently.
“A million and a half,” Gresham said, pulling himself out of whatever trance he’d fallen into. “Which of these gods did you speak to? Does this mean that the warlock was, in fact, making sacrifices to a deity?”
“The god we spoke to called himself Fate. And yes, the warlock was making a sacrifice to something. We have not dealt with that one though.”
Gresham sprung up from his chair and dug through a pile of paper, returning to his seat with a pen and notepad. “Are you worshipping Fate now?”
I looked up sharply. “No. Definitely not.”
He scratched down my response with a nod, underlining it three times. “Do you believe this entity is evil in some way? Do you distrust it?”
“I don’t trust its intentions at all. Though, it claims a war is coming, and I have no reason to doubt that. The attacks on Moira are likely just the beginning.” I swirled the dregs of tea left in my cup as a sense of doom settled over me.
I needed Fate to be wrong or a liar. I glanced at Swift and she shook her head slightly. She didn’t want to tell Gresham everything it appeared. I couldn’t blame her. Having a bunch of people fretting over your alleged impending death would get irritating.
“What we need your help with, is discovering how many of these gods there might be, and who they are. There has to be some evidence of them in history. Now that we know they’re real, we can look at the material we’ve studied from a different perspective. Perhaps find signs we’ve previously dismissed,” Swift said.
Gresham nodded eagerly. “Of course. Perfectly logical. I’ll get to work at once.”
“There is something else.” Swift grabbed another biscuit and dipped it in her tea. “What do you know about Pandora’s Box?”
Gresham shrugged. “Greek mythology. Opened by Pandora, releasing evils into the world. Is that real too?”
“We’re not sure. There’s something in the heart of Moira kept hidden by…” she paused and sighed deeply, “my father. The person that told us about it nicknamed it Pandora’s Box, though a valkyrie stated that it was something else entirely. It seems to be some kind of magical battery. They’re using it to power Moira and the Rune Rails.”
“Fascinating. That doesn’t quite fit with the usual mythos of Pandora’s Box, but perhaps some older texts will have more information.” He added that to his growing list of notes. “Anything else you need me to look into?”
I pulled out the letter Talos had left me in the alley and set it on the table in front of Gresham. “There’s this as well. One of those rioters — their leader we think — left it for me. The first line sounds like a quote from something, but we’re not sure what.”
He picked up the letter and adjusted his glasses on his nose to read it. “Hmmm, having no context at all will make it difficult.”
I grabbed the newspaper again and unfolded it, searching for any pictures of the protestors. There was one near the bottom of the article that showed the Awakened’s flag. “There’s this as well. I’ve been seeing this symbol everywhere. An eagle wreathed in fire. Whatever he’s quoting might be connected to the imagery. We also talked to a woman that had been part of the organization, and she mentioned that everyone important had a code name, and they were all Greek.”
“That narrows things down somewhat.” Gresham turned the letter over in his hands, sniffing it, then holding it up to the light. “Did you find anything hidden in the letter? Runes? Code?”
Swift shook her head. “No, but you’re welcome to keep it and see what you can find. I made copies of it already.”
“I’ll give it a thorough looking at.” Gresham continued fiddling with the letter, making notes as he muttered under his breath.
Swift straightened abruptly. “Oh, did you ever figure out the runes on the Valkyrie armor?”
“In fact, I did! One of them at least. The others seem to be entirely new, or rather, very, very old and never before seen. Let me fetch it.” Gresham hopped up and hurried out of the room.
“You gave him the armor?” I asked in surprise.
She nodded. “To help study it. It’s enchanted in some way and I’d like to know how.”
The professor reappeared, grunting with effort as he hauled the armor into the room. He set it on the floor with a loud clank.
“Heavy stuff,” he said, wiping his brow. “Couldn’t figure out the metal used to craft it either. Those valkyries certainly know a bit more about armor crafting than we do though. I couldn’t damage it at all.”
The armor had been polished well. It gleamed brightly from the light of the fireplace. The scratches and holes had disappeared.
“How did you fix the holes in it?” I asked, leaning forward to inspect it more closely.
“It fixed itself,” Swift said, crouching next to it and running her finge
rs over the pauldrons. “When I finally got home after the battle and went to sleep, the whole armor set and sword disappeared. I panicked immediately, but had this instinct to reach for it, and…” She held out her hand and a bright flash of light blazed through the room.
I blinked as spots danced before my eyes. When I regained my vision, I saw the valkyrie’s sword in her hand. “I did not expect that.”
“I can summon the entire set of armor. When I do, any damage that’s been inflicted on it is repaired, just like with my mace.”
“So, what, are you a valkyrie now?” I asked with a laugh.
Neither of them laughed along with me. Swift’s expression only grew more serious.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She stood and the armor and sword disappeared with a low pop.
A truly obnoxious ringtone blared out of my phone. I pulled it out and answered it. “Bootstrap, if you change my ringtone again—”
“I found him,” he interrupted breathlessly. “I found Bradley.”
My fingers tightened on the phone. “Where is he?”
“Purgatory.”
My hand dropped to my side and I hung up the call without saying anything else. I’d suspected he might have been sent there, but it was the worst case scenario. Beyond worst case, actually.
Bradley was as good as dead.
Seventeen
“Are you sure?” I demanded, pacing the length of Bootstrap’s room. We’d rushed back here immediately, research and gods forgotten.
“Yes, I’m positive. Zardoz found this backdoor into...well, the details don’t matter. The point is, we’re sure. One hundred percent certain. I never tell you things until I’m sure and I’m never wrong, dude,” Bootstrap said, crossing his arms and gnawing on his bottom lip. “He was taken there recently. Harland was trying to get the charges against him dropped, arguing that his right to due process had been violated, but all that disappeared when she died— and I don’t mean got denied. Files were deleted. Documents were shredded. We could only find bits and pieces of what Harland was doing right before she died. Or...was killed.”
“You think Harland was assassinated?” Swift asked. Her voice was tight and angry.
Bootstrap nodded and started swiveling back and forth in his chair. “Absolutely. The attack was the perfect time to cover up the assassination. I’ve heard some chatter about it on the forums the Awakened like to frequent too.”
Swift and I met each other’s eyes, neither of us saying what we were both thinking. If the attack was used to cover up Harland’s assassination, then whoever killed her had to know the attack was coming. It had been done too well, too neatly, for it to be a spur of the moment decision. If this was planned, then it had been planned by the Mage’s Guild. By the Lord High Chancellor himself.
I forced myself to stop pacing. “Are they the ones starting that rumor?”
“Maybe. Could be someone else.”
“Who worked closest with Harland? Did she have an assistant or anyone she might have confided in?” Swift asked.
“Uh, not sure off-hand, but I can get a list.” Bootstrap whirled around and started typing.
A window popped up with the IMIB’s personnel records. Normally I’d fuss at him for hacking into the IMIB’s systems, but it no longer mattered.
“She had an assistant, and a few people that worked in management right under her. Want all their names?”
“Yes. I think we might need to have a chat with them.”
“Oh, crap. Two of them died with her.” My phone dinged and Bootstrap turned back around. “Sent the list to both of you. I’m going to dig around and look for video of the area they died in. See if anything looks off.”
“Alright, thanks Bootstrap,” Swift said with a soft sigh.
He gave her a thumbs up.
“Find out everything you can about Purgatory too,” I said quietly. “I want to know where it is.”
Bootstrap laughed and shook his head, but stopped when he saw my expression. “Oh, wait, you’re serious? You want me to find a prison that no one can find?”
“Yeah, I do. You’re the best aren’t you?” I raised an eyebrow.
He snorted and stretched out his arms before turning back to his computer. “Hell yeah, I’m the best. No one is ever going to be able to top this shiz.”
I nodded toward the door and Swift followed me out of his room. We were silent, both lost in thought. I knew the rumors about Purgatory. It was supposedly the result of a warlock’s spell gone wrong that the Mage’s Guild had turned into a prison. It fed off your magic, never taking enough to kill you, but enough to keep you weak.
It was a place of no return. Even those that were eventually released were never right again. It stole your sanity.
Swift stopped, her hands curling into fists. “We have to get him out.”
“I know.”
“Breaking out of Purgatory is supposed to be impossible. No one even knows where it is. I know Bootstrap is good, but..” She shook her head angrily.
“A lot of impossible things have been happening lately.” I clapped my hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find a way.”
Eighteen
The last time we were here, we’d been chasing a mangy, drug-dealing werewolf. The lights of the Strip paled behind us as we followed the sloping tunnel down into Infierno. People hurried past us, clinging to the walls like skittering rats.
At night, most of the vendors and tourists had cleared out of this area. They fled back to the safety of prosaic Las Vegas along with the sun. I couldn’t blame them. The pulsing, red glow in the distance wasn’t exactly welcoming. You felt watched here, too. The awareness of being followed tickling along the back of your neck.
“This is feeling more and more like a trap,” Swift muttered.
I glanced behind us and saw that one of the people we’d passed going in the opposite direction was now trailing after us. “Yeah, it really is.”
The tunnel curved sharply, leading us back toward the Strip. This time, however, we were below it. Infierno grew beneath the Strip, which seemed fitting considering it meant Hell in English.
This was the most active magical community outside of Moira, but it was wildly different. It had a well-deserved reputation for being a hotbed of illegal activity. Gambling, fight rings, and a black market for drugs and magical weapons — both of which could kill you.
The Awakened having a place down here didn’t exactly fill me with trust. The kinds of people that thrived in Infierno weren’t petty thieves. They were the kind of scum I’d spent my career chasing down, and even worse, the gang bosses I’d never been able to arrest.
The red glow I’d seen in the distance was all around us now. I wasn’t sure when we’d passed into it, it had been so gradual. Runes carved into the ceiling and floor of the tunnel seemed to be the source. Wavering red light pulsed from them in regular intervals.
The tunnel floor steepened to the point that it felt like the slightest misstep would send you tumbling. At the bottom of the slope stood the first bars. The twisted buildings seemed to defy logic and physics as they twisted up to towering heights. Brick and metal and wood were mashed together to create structures that looked like they might get up and walk away at any moment. The ceiling of this man-made cave wasn’t visible through the walkways that criss-crossed overhead.
A man leaned over the edge of the lowest-hanging walkway and poured his drink out on the head of an unsuspecting pedestrian. His friends shrieked with laughter as he rained down insults as well. The victim of the attack looked up with a stony face, then with a flick of his arm almost too fast to follow, sent a crackling ball of electricity zooming upward. It caught the instigator in the chest and flung him back into the railing on the other side of the walkway.
“Pleasant place,” Swift said drily.
“They seem very welcoming,” I agreed.
We stuck close to the building as we plunged into the crowd. Music blared out of the open door of a bar. The thumping bass reve
rberated in my chest. I’d come into Infierno once before years ago, but it had been a long time. It seemed to have experienced a population boom since then.
Someone’s shoulder brushed against mine. The man turned and flipped me off, but kept walking. Swift pushed her way up to walk side by side with me, glaring down a group headed toward us until they stepped aside.
“The ground is still sloping downward. How deep does this place go?” she asked, having to shout to be heard as we passed by another bar competing for attention with the previous one.
“No clue. I’ve never gone this far in. We didn’t bother trying to make arrests down here.”
The tunnel widened. Smaller pathways branched off to either side while the main tunnel continued, opening up into a sprawling cavern. Rising up from the midst of the jagged architecture was something unmistakeable. The white building reflected the harsh red lights, making it look as if it were on fire.
Jutting from the top was a flag that proudly displayed the symbol of the Awakened. It must have been ten feet long. The flag waved proudly over the building, glowing like a beacon in the darkness.
I paused, looking up at it with a mixture of awe and disbelief.
“They aren’t even trying to hide,” Swift said in shock.
“That is more brazen than I expected.” I exhaled sharply and shook my head. “Guess that’s why Talos was so vague with his directions. There is no missing this place.”
The line to get in wrapped around the block. Mages, shifters, and vampires were all waiting to get in. Whatever the Awakened were selling appealed to everyone.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like waiting in that line.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “What are you suggesting?”
“There’s gotta be a back door. We can sneak in.” She surveyed the area, then nodded. “Alright, follow me. We’ll find it.”
“Lead the way. Happy to see how your bad idea turns out for once,” I said, waving her ahead of me.
She looked over her shoulder, glare in full force. “I don’t have bad ideas.”