by T J Kelly
The Vicleans were the next clan to transport in. It hurt to see them on the other side, amassing behind the Taines, joining their ranks. I didn't understand their betrayal, but I guess that would have to wait for another day. I glanced to my side and saw Richard and James there. Knowing I had a family, people willing to battle and die if needed, soothed my pain and inspired me to fight harder. They were the ones who mattered.
Responding to a hidden signal, the dark magicians launched spells at a single point of the shield, trying to force their way through. I glanced at my uncle for permission. Once he gave me a nod, I reflected back the concentration of magic, causing the dark magicians to scatter, then dropped the shield as we moved forward to engage.
Evening was almost upon us. The front of the manor was in shadows already, hidden by the manor house from the sinking sun, bright bursts of light from the spells flying in sharp contrast to the dimming battlefield. Shouts rose in the air as we confronted our enemies.
"Duck," Peter yelled. I dropped, an explosion ripping apart half the Earth-wall in front of me. I leaped up and threw a mechanical spell at the group of magicians focused on where we stood, knocking them down with a blast of my own.
Things went fast after that, the edges of my sight blurring with action and spells and the furious engagement of powerful magicians at the peak of their power.
"We need reinforcements in the south," Mort called. Joseph disappeared around the corner of the house to help. Metal-covered staffs flashed in the light of magic spells as the alchemists fought on. Peony was out of sight already, helping in the north with Harris and Seth.
Kamini slipped from where she was stationed with the Andersson brothers, rushing to my side. "More lead," she panted urgently. "They've sent whole clans after us."
I yanked open the zipper on my vest. I had given out my other lumps and only had one left. I tossed it to her, and she ran back to help. They needed it more than I did. I had the most powerful magicians on the planet by my side.
The battle shifted. We spread out, covering more territory. We were at a disadvantage in that we weren't aiming to kill anyone. Despite their revolution, we still needed to keep the corporations going. Most of the distant relatives engaged in battle would escape imprisonment once the blame fell on those in charge.
We would kill if we were forced into it, but our general orders were to render as many of our enemies unconscious or shove them into one-way corrals that kept them grouped together and unable to see or function outside the borders, using the spell for containment I had worked out with Reg. It was hard going, and I was tiring, engaging in physical combat with one magician after another, doing my best to make Mort proud.
Movement where I had seen none before caught my eye. "Behind you," I shouted, warning my uncle about incoming enemies. He turned his body to the side, widening his fighting stance to include more people. An explosion took me off guard in my distraction, shrapnel tearing into my leg. I dragged myself away from the center of the fighting, but that cut me off from Peter. The intensity of the battle rose, and I was throwing spells and mechanicals with everything I had, knocking people out, shoving them aside, blasting my way through the dark magicians set against me.
Two more explosions, and I was completely alone, sandwiched between broken Earth barriers. I had lost sight of Peter, who hadn't left my side until a dozen Vicleans broke through and forced him to engage. I pushed my way out from the rubble, afraid I would be too easy a target if I was trapped in the dead end the mounds of dirt and rock created.
Dread settled like a brick in my stomach. I was surrounded, cut off. I pushed, digging in, but there were too many of them. Alone in the middle of the furious battle, the power behind their attacks rose above what I could handle. Then the power shifted, and I answered the attack - using blood magic. Everything they were, up against everything in me, my will becoming the true power in this fight. The sacrifices my parents had made, ascending with all the elements, my connection of Light to Peter. All of it poured into me, giving me the strength to continue.
It wasn't enough. I realized that as they pushed against my skintight shield. I had given the last of my lead to Kamini. And it was worth it. My family, my friends. They meant everything to me. If I broke, was lost, disappeared into nothingness, it was worth it for them. For everyone. The magical world was mine, and I loved it. I could do no less than my parents, who faced their deaths on a years-long journey. My end was not so bad - it would take only moments.
With that last thought, my shield broke, shattering under the onslaught of so many dark magicians at the height of their power. I was a Rector, the best and strongest ever born. But I was alone.
Darkness came for me. Rushing in, familiar, strong. Then more, and more, over setting my balance, knocking me to my knees, my hands gripping my head as I screamed, trying to push it away, struggling against the Dark, drawing on my experiences.
Then my father's words in my mind, telling me to let go, beckoning me to join them. To embrace the darkness. And this time it wasn't to become who I was - this time, I would lose myself. But that was okay. The pain would be disappear, and so would I. My eyes struggled against the blindness of the Dark storm, desperately longing to see Peter. My vision was clouded, I was blind. Yet still I sought my family, trying to reach Armageddon, the same way I did when I failed to ascend. I could accept my loss. But I wanted to see them one last time. Were they there? Were they safe?
Could they win?
Bursts of colored light pierced the veil around me. Electric blue, vivid green, pulsing bright red. Gold and white. They were there. The Irregulars were there. They stood against the army massed against them and were pushing them back. The world was in good hands.
I let go.
Darkness rushed into me, expanding until the pressure was too much, squeezing me until all that remained was Lia, just me, alone and embattled and ready to die.
Then I was gone. The world, the lights, the people - all disappeared. All was darkness. No touch, no sound. Nothing.
I didn't think, in the end, that I would be alone. Weren't my parents supposed to be there waiting for me?
Why was there nothing?
But then a ribbon of light, pure, golden-white, shining through the darkness. A thread of love in the emptiness. Something in the nothingness. A connection. Light piercing the Dark, slicing through the veil like a sword. A shout, a voice.
Peter.
Warmth, a hand. Arms. Then the world, rushing back, surrounding us. A battle raging, screams and shouts, spells exploding, and everyone. Everything.
The darkness let me go.
"Lia, can you hear me?" Peter was screaming. My ears were having a hard time remembering how to hear. But there was sound again. What a relief.
"Yeah, I'm okay," I croaked, my voice crunching like it had to filter through gravel. "We better go help."
Peter held me against him. "Sure. Sure. In a sec." He was shaking. Oh. So was I. My stomach heaved, and I choked back the nausea. It was finally hitting me. I would have fallen if my boyfriend wasn't propping me up.
"I think I was caught in the between place," I moaned. "I feel like I'm going to puke."
"Want a cookie?" he asked. Then we laughed, I took in a shaky breath, and we were ready to go. He dropped his arms, the strength in my legs back to normal.
"As a matter of fact, I do. You shouldn't make offers if you can't make good."
"We're at the manor. We'll get some when we're done."
An explosion of light and sound smashed into the ground beside us, bright in the fading moments of twilight. We were running out of time. Peter threw out his hand, blocking the percussive effects of the Flash-bang. We turned as one and reentered the fight.
The Irregulars had tightened up, our agents moving together. The enemy against us was strong, but the number fewer. There were gaps in their clans.
It was time. I could sense it as if I had an internal clock tuned solely to this one purpose. I shoved a Perdo man
aside, using his body to propel myself higher into the air, kicking off his shoulders. Reaching out, tapping into the Air to keep me hovering high in the sky, I shattered the all barriers we had erected, flattening the battlefield.
I focused on the astrolabe, dim in the last moments of sunset, the last minutes of the light half of the year. The seconds when light barely outbalanced the dark. Then I saw it - the gold and silver metal glowing with power, a black impression in the top of the center ring. A small star, facing the heavens, collecting the light. Waiting.
Instinct took over. I yanked on my necklace, breaking the fine chain, freeing the silver star I had worn for nearly my entire life. Releasing the elements around me, my body dove forward, straight at the center of the battle, falling onto the astrolabe, cushioning my fall with a burst of Air. Kind of like flying, the way Peter had shown me. I pushed my star into the metal ring, into the carved out figure of the star. A perfect fit.
The last sliver of sunlight of the autumn equinox beamed into the crystal sheets my father had ordered installed into the western wall of Rector House. The prisms pointed the beams in at an angle, as if they made up the base of a triangle, like the Andersson brothers performing their amplifying magic between them. The light streams merged into one, shooting through the sheet of crystal above the manor door, strengthening it further before the Light slammed into the astrolabe.
My connection to Rector crystal was in full effect. It was almost like talking to my father again, a warning infusing me with urgency. "Cover!" I screamed, projecting my thoughts to my allies, our bonds strengthened by spending so much time together at the castle. I launched myself straight down, barely cushioning my fall in time. The Irregulars, faultless in their training, dove to the ground. Then a blast like a nuclear bomb shattered the sky, a shock wave radiating from the astrolabe, piercing through our enemies as they stood above the prone agents.
Screams filled the air as power ripped through our enemies, shredding their soul's connection to their magic. In one bright, blinding flash, the astrolabe Ashe had my parents create, the object full of spells they spent the end of their lives creating, vanquished the leaders of every dark clan that had risen against us.
I dragged myself upright. I hadn't been hit with the power of the astrolabe, but the force of the spell had shoved me into the ground. It felt like being hit by a bus.
My eyes searched the crowd of men and women milling around, shocked and in pain, unable to perform any magic, not able to transport away.
Oberon wasn't there.
Why? Why couldn't that monster be around for the mass vanquishing?
Darkness had descended, night had come. The dark half of the year had newly begun. It barely diminished my magic. I had too much dark inside of me. Good. I had one last job to do. Dusting myself off, I pushed my way through the confused enemies of light, looking for Oberon.
It wasn't over. Not by a long shot. I wasn't letting him get away. Not this time. Not ever again.
The magicians fighting on the sides of the manor and in back had been protected from the power of the astrolabe. Those closest to the front were responding to the cries of their compatriots, many of them family. Bloodline ties were stronger than the desire to fight a losing battle. Dark magicians trickled out, between the groups still fighting, linking themselves to one or two bewildered, vanquished magicians, transporting them away to safety.
None of us bothered to follow. We would have to deal with them later. We had more important things to do.
◆◆◆
Oberon reappeared near the astrolabe. He was furious, a staff in his hands, trying to tear it down. I think he was afraid it would go off again and steal his magic, too. But I could sense the magic was gone. The humming had disappeared. It was a beautiful object in my front yard that no longer did anything.
Mort was closest to him. He moved to engage the enemy as my uncle cast a null spell so Oberon couldn't transport away. The fighting was intense, colored lights bursting around them as they circled and lunged, magic and physical blows flying in unison. Oberon slid, swinging his leg low, trying to knock Mort over.
My combat instructor was too good for such ploys. He avoided the swipe and came back with a punch to the jaw, knocking Oberon back.
But there were other people around. Armageddon and Peony engaged several of them, keeping them away from Oberon's side. Peter and I fought nearer. Too many enemies remained in our way - we had to keep stopping to engage.
Closer and closer we moved. We were still near the northern wall of the manor, on the other side of the mound where the astrolabe was mounted. Kicks, blows, spells. Mechanicals, too. Anything to clear out the rest of the enemy clans so we could reach the leader of the Taines. He had hurt so many people. The time had come to end his reign.
Two of Oberon's brothers made it to his side, joined by others I didn't recognize. So many men, all fighting Mort.
"There are too many of them," I panted.
"He'll win. Mort always does," Peter assured me. But we kept fighting our way through, trying to get there to help our instructor. Other agents too, the Anderssons, Reg, Joseph. David Novato, transporting in from the castle, arriving at the height of the battle to reinforce our side. We were all trying to get to the center of the fighting.
Clypeus, the junior agent we helped to trace when he disappeared made it there first. He engaged one of the brothers, trying to reduce the numbers against Mort. It was a good tactic, a strategy we practiced after his Recall sessions, but he was outclassed. He should have drawn off one of the other fighters, somebody younger and less experienced.
And less willing to use deadly weapons.
Oberon's brother Harold showed no hesitation as he pulled out a silver-plated fighting knife. None of the Taines cared about the law. Neither did their allies. They wanted us all dead.
Harris joined in, then Seth only a second later. The odds were getting better. But then Clypeus slipped. With a shout, the junior agent went down, unable to rise.
We weren't close enough. The others were engaged in a furious round of combat. He was going to lose his life in my front yard and I couldn't stop it.
Mort dove between them, knocking Harold to the side, the knife tumbling onto the ground. He was a man at the peak of his skills, Wicked Death in the flesh. Mort could protect his fellow agent.
But it came at a cost. He had to leave Oberon alone, stop engaging him. Turn his back on the enemy. It only took a second, and Mort was right back in the fight - but it was too late.
"Vanesco," Oberon growled. There was no flash, no explosion. Just Mort, there. Then gone.
Vanished, forever, into darkness.
"No!" I was screaming, screaming. My vision blurred red, and I dove through the fighting men, trying to get at Oberon. Hands wrapped around my arm, yanking me back.
"Ged's got him!" Peter shouted, trying to break through my panic. My pain.
Please no. Not Mort. Please.
Light flooded my body, clearing my head, filling me with enough sense to fight off the yawning pit of darkness. Of grief.
Anger flooded me, too. Peter's Light couldn't touch that kind of fury. I turned on him, ready to scream, to push him away, but he was crying and I knew why. He loved Mort, too. Yet he was trying to help me.
I threw my arms around him, shielding us from the battle raging around us. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I cried. Then again. And again. Peter buried his face in my shoulder, chest jerking. A second. Two more. Then he stepped back.
"We've got to help," he choked. "Come on."
He had stopped me when I had lost control, but we were needed. Now that I could see, Armageddon shone in the distance, blazing white light, holding Oberon to the ground.
There were other magicians trying to stop him. Peony was by his side, fighting them off, but she was alone and Oberon's relatives were desperate to get to him.
Terror for her safety, horror at the thought of losing her too, spurred me on. Peter and I heaved the last of the dark mag
icians out of our path, reaching her side, flinging Alastair and Keaton, brother and son, aside as we ran. I drew on Dark and Air, trapping them on the ground. They may be dark magicians, but I only needed a small amount of Light to keep them from rising again. Such was the nature of their magic.
Twisted. Perverted. Evil.
The aura around my uncle flickered. He would vanquish Oberon, he would win, but not without diminishing his own magic. Chas's secret, Taines twisting the Light, burst into life in my memory, haunting me. I had vowed I wouldn't tell anyone and never did. And Armageddon was going to pay for it. He may not know the secret, but if he sacrificed a piece of himself, he could still beat Oberon. He was the greatest magician in the world. And he would lose that, willingly, to defeat the worst.
No.
I leaped over the men we had subdued, closer to Armageddon. "I've got to help Uncle Ged," I shouted to Peter. "Help Aunt Peony."
Peter fought his way around to the opposite side from Peony, using his staff to amplify his magic and swinging it like a bludgeon. Then James and Richard arrived, battling their way through the Taines amassing around us. David was also there, unable to use his best magic without also stopping us from using ours. But he could fight. And he did.
Barrett, another of Chas's brothers, attacked me. I loathed him. It wasted precious time, but I fought him off. Ducking, backing away, I ripped a light crystal out of my pocket and clutched it in my fist, then jumped forward and slammed it into Barrett's face, knocking him out cold. I dropped the crystal on the ground by his head and used it to create a cage of Light as I made my way around him.
"No, you don't," James said. He was close to me, reaching out, and from my blind spot he grabbed another Taine. Oberon's brother George. My cousin threw him down, stomping him unconscious. None of the Taine's had been using magic. It occurred to me that as the main family standing against us, they were almost all there when the astrolabe had gone off. Their leader may have been hiding, but the rest of them had their magic torn from them.