The Cost of Magic (The Ethan Cole Series Book 1)

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The Cost of Magic (The Ethan Cole Series Book 1) Page 8

by Andrew Macmillan

‘Unacceptable! We demand justice! Take my brother’s dying memories from my head, they cast more than a reasonable doubt. This siphon will get away with murder unless you act!’

  The hissing from the cheap seats intensified. Andrew pointed to the dark alcove by the Grandmaster’s throne. ‘Where is the Greatshadow?’

  The Grandmaster held a hand up as he neared the floor. It took time for silence to fall. ‘The Greatshadow is on Council business. Business that brings me to the second reason the Council brings the armiger here today.’

  Grating voices jeered. Politics was a game Cole didn’t want to play. In a fight, the guy willing to take the risks would win, but in politics? Nessie should have had this; he’d risked everything, but somehow, it sounded like they might still lose.

  As though throwing a disgruntled dog a bone, the Grandmaster said, ‘We take the accusations against the armiger seriously, and we will investigate. The Greatshadow will lead.’

  This was the problem with people believing Nessie. Nessie twitched. It would have been imperceptible to anyone else. If there was an investigation … The only hope was to find a way of obscuring their memories. Or there was always a good old-fashioned witness murder, but as much as he would relish killing Andrew Ancroft, nothing said guilt like the disappearance of the plaintiff.

  ‘There, then. The matter is settled,’ Nessie said through a false smile. It was the same expression Nessie wore when he was giving Cole a telling off, as if smiling would somehow make him feel better. Gratitude for the years Nessie had given him stung his eyes; he couldn’t see the old man brought down with him.

  Andrew argued, and the assembled vampires made their unnatural noises. It was background noise washing over the sinking refuge of Cole’s ship. He’d screwed Nessie. Plain and simple. What other choice had he had? He couldn’t have allowed Bernard to feed on the little girl. He had to find a way. Some godsforsaken creature other than a vampire must be able to take their memories or do something to help them cover up the truth. Hopefully, having an armiger’s debt would be payment enough. The prices things of the Murk could exact for favours had been in the legends and myths of humanity since the dawn of their time. The price was never kind.

  Andrew had taken a seat, and the room was in uproar.

  ‘Listen.’ The Grandmaster used his voice to great effect. ‘You vampires know of the danger stalking the city. Surely that is why so many of you have come tonight?’

  The sound of impending trouble drew Cole out from under his rock of worry, sharpening his ears. His headache established itself, thumping. The Armistice was a bruise that wouldn’t heal and got bumped daily. But the sight of his fellow human beings giving these predators the time of day? It hollowed. Nessie’s past efforts to keep Cole as far from the Council as possible had definitely been wisdom. The Grandmaster continued.

  ‘François Ancroft managed the impossible. Why he was in the Pit in the first place is a mystery. However, he escaped. The Coalition will have to guard the Pit mouth from now on. If a beast vampire comes out, it will not be as restrained as François was.’

  The onlookers grumbled. News travelled at the speed of light around here. Everyone already knew a dozen versions of the previous night’s events.

  The Grandmaster paced before them. ‘This will strain the Coalition’s resources. In addition, last night, the vampires of our city approached the Greatshadow, fearful for their safety. Some of you have vanished from our streets without trace, and under circumstances the Coalition – which has been compiling the reports – says are not coincidence or accident.’

  The Grandmaster looked at Cole. He knew insult was about to meet injury. They would want him to figure this out. He was already going to be occupied figuring out how to get Nessie out of the mess Cole had landed him in.

  The Grandmaster stopped in front of Cole’s desk. ‘I will not provide details here in open Council, but the armiger’s involvement in investigating these disappearances is paramount. For this reason, the investigation into the death of Bernard Ancroft will be suspended until the cause of the disappearances is discovered.’

  Andrew was on his feet like a dart, quivering in a disturbing way. ‘You expect us to let that leech’—his black fingernails pointed at Cole—‘protect us?’

  Cole’s parasite boiled over in his gut, and suddenly he was on his feet.

  ‘Finally, we agree on something. Quite frankly, laws should be about protecting the innocent, not enabling scum to kill children and get away with it. I’ve shut my mouth, and I’ve done what I’ve been told to, but this is too much. If it’s a job for the vampires, I’m not doing it.’

  Nessie’s hand squeezed painfully on his shoulder. Cole ignored him.

  *

  ‘Cole!’ Nessie hissed, desperate. He watched Ethan’s face, trying to see some spark of sense in the boy’s stubbornly hostile expression.

  ‘Motive!’ Andrew drew the word out with relish. He had them, and he knew it. ‘He loathes us. He had the motive and the means to murder my poor family in pure hate.’ The gallery exploded. Feet drummed; the crowd argued with itself, fickle and uncaring as the tide swung abruptly.

  ‘What have you done, boy?’

  Cole turned. ‘They’ll threaten you, over Bernard fucking Ancroft? I’m not sitting through this shit, Nessie. Neither should you.’ Something in Cole’s posture warned him. There was no talking to Ethan now. Nessie sat, punctured and deflated as Ethan stood, unrepentant before the storm he had brought on his own head. The wounds of Ethan’s early years were cuts that had never healed.

  ‘You have to be wiser, my boy. I know what they took from you, but they will take a lot more if you carry on like this.’

  The Grandmaster bellowed and the room fell to low conversation. Andrew pressed.

  ‘You cannot allow the evidence to be tampered with, I have a claim.’

  Ethan looked perplexed, spreading his hands, palms facing up.

  ‘What evidence?’

  Andrew pointed at Nessie. ‘Take the Commander, seize him! Keep his memories safe. To refuse me now would be to gamble on the fragile peace we all love and share.’

  Welling sadness rose as Nessie watched Ethan stand, dumbstruck, putting it together. The Grandmaster hefted his huge claymore in one hand over his shoulder, his physical power impressive, and stood a foot from Andrew. ‘I give the orders here, vampire. And do not threaten the Armistice, any of you, or there will be hell to pay.’

  The crowd above were lost to threats, safe in their numbers as they hissed and jeered for justice. Could Ethan imagine that stinging hive of creatures unregulated by the Armistice? Free to take whomever they pleased, whenever they pleased? The boy was a fool to gamble the order forged by centuries of sacrifice and compromise. Yet Nessie could feel no hardness. Ethan never could turn his back on those in need. If the Coalition lacked anything, it was perhaps compassion – the hardest virtue to keep in the face of suffering. The Grandmaster stood before them. Nessie’s old friend looked weary.

  ‘Armiger, you will do your duty, or you will face the consequences.’

  Nessie placed a quieting hand on Cole’s arm as the Grandmaster’s voice filled the room.

  ‘The Council finds Andrew Ancroft to have legitimate claim, as the armiger so aptly saw to it. I am left with no choice but to take the Commander into custody until the investigation can be held into the death of Bernard Ancroft.’

  ‘In the meantime, Armiger. If you will not do this for yourself, the penalty for failing in your duty will be extended to the Commander as well. This way, you can do your job for his benefit, if for no other reason.’

  Ethan’s breath puffed, his voice shaking with what Nessie recognised as an audible effort at control. ‘You’d kill a man you hold as a dear friend, to satisfy these fiends?’ Cole turned to Nessie.

  The point was lost on the boy. Nessie’s heart ached at the memory of pre-Armistice brutality.

  ‘No, Ethan. He’d kill a dear friend to maintain the fragile peace that has allowed b
illions to sleep at night, unmolested. To grow up in relative safety. To ensure mankind can continue to progress until, one day, future generations might rid themselves of the monsters. We cannot win that fight just now, Ethan. You’re a fool if you try.’

  The session came to a close. Soon, Nessie would be held in the discomfiting womb of the Council’s null prison. Tedium would be the worst he might suffer, but meantime, the city would be vulnerable. Ethan would be vulnerable. Where was his apprentice? He had raised Natalia, and now she was an exemplary woman. She broke no rules, even when it hurt her interests to keep them.

  A junior brother of the Coalition moved to stand behind Nessie, hesitant, shackles in hand. Nessie motioned to the man to proceed.

  ‘Nessie, this is wrong.’ Ethan looked suddenly lost.

  Nessie wished he could have smiled then. The boy would need Natalia like never before, but where was she? She had never neglected her duty. She understood what Cole did not. Compromise, sacrifice, these were the values Nessie had instilled in her. These were the values twisted by her parents in a mockery of virtue. His bitter memories did no good.

  ‘I’m relying on you, Ethan. Go, phone Natalia – or find her, you must find her – and take her direction. Listen to her, Ethan. Do your job, please. For both our sakes. And make sure she’s alright. You will need each other.’

  Then the heavy, cold, iron anti-magic shackles of the Council clamped over his wrists, and his connection to the Myriad – there as definitely as his own breath – was severed. The junior brother walked ahead of him as they left the chamber. Nessie’s heart twisted with worry; he couldn’t look back.

  The old stone of the Council Citadel encased him in its tomb. He marched the slow winding passage down into the bowels of the ground. Ethan and Natalia. Of them both, Ethan was the one he was used to worrying about. But in the quiet times, the circumstances of Natalia’s earliest experiences – experiences he had vowed never to reveal to her – visited to torment him during the nights where the ghosts of his many failures visited in a parade.

  What psychic damage might have been done to a baby whose parents were willing to do what Nessie’s apprentice – Natalia’s father – had been willing to do?

  The guard ahead turned as an involuntary cry left Nessie’s lips. He waved the man on as he fought to blink away the image he could never forget – Natalia’s sister in a tiny chamber that stank of viscera. She was barely a decade old, poised with a thin, wicked knife above her baby sister who lay amidst a pool of blood on the thick, stone slab of ritual sacrifice.

  The choices he’d had to make that day … He remained grateful still, that the Mother of the Wytches of the Order of the Light had taken that burden from him. Killing a child as young as Natalia’s sister would have stained his soul forever.

  He had taken the baby out of that place and carried her as far away as he could, to where she would not be found. He’d watched Natalia grow and become a fine, moral woman. But somewhere in her psyche, that awful truth lurked. He remembered the first time she’d been old enough to wonder about her parents. Looking down at her hopeful, curious face, Nessie had told Natalia the only thing he could. And he’d never regretted that decision.

  Chapter 6

  The drone around the Council chamber took an age to die down. Cole could feel the anger, from the mages especially. Their shouts and jeers caught the high places of the room and mixed into a soundtrack for loneliness. One of their own, imprisoned because of him. It was like being the new convict in the prison yard.

  Cole’s phone glowed blankly in his hand. Where was Natalia? He needed her. Sometimes, she would be pulled away on business at short notice, but Nessie hadn’t known where she was either. This wasn’t like her. He pushed the call button, as much for something to look at while he waited for the crowd to disperse. The phone cut straight to voicemail.

  Vampires were missing? Shame they weren’t all gone. He had to admit though, that was pretty hardcore. Who was strong enough to take on a vampire? Someone hitting them in the daytime, no doubt – but who had the resources and the knowledge to pull that off, except the Coalition itself? Could the knights be at work here? If so, it meant war. And no way was Cole siding with the scumbag vampires. His parasite watched him. He could feel It, willing him on. Let’s hunt, It called. It hadn’t been this awake for years. It was the consequence of siphoning twice in short succession: up North, and then yesterday. Time for It to sleep. He couldn’t do much to keep It quiet, but he could outdrink It. His hand found the flask, but too many people were still buzzing behind him to risk a drink yet.

  What now? Cole had always kept out the way when there was patient work to be done, and Nat had pointed when stuff needed broken. That was the way they’d done it. Other cities had an esquire – a shield bearer – to fight with the armiger. Edinburgh hadn’t filled that position in a century. Too stable to warrant it, and he’d always had Nessie or Nat. Granted, they were officially his watchers, but the three of them made a good team. Now he was alone. In a mess that wasn’t his fault. If the Coalition could just stop pandering to monsters … But try as he might, the guilt whispering in his ears said he was the fuck-up. His head ached. Gods, sobering up was hard work. As the murmuring faded to silence, screwing the top from his flask was like releasing a pressure valve in his brain.

  ‘Armiger, a word.’ He stood, scanning. Where had the voice come from? Andrew Ancroft emerged from a long streak of black shadow in the corner of the vast room. His voice hissed like metal pulled across wire. It wound tight. Sneaking up on Cole was a good way to get dead.

  ‘Bastard. How long have you been creeping around?’ Anger blunted his fear, violence sang, crackling beneath his skin. ‘You think it’s wise to come up on me like this?’

  Andrew kept distance between them. He was trying to look casual, but something in the way he moved said he was watching Cole closely. His discomfort was delicious. Better than the whisky.

  It became deadly still as they slowly stalked each other around the Council chamber. Andrew wheezed. ‘I come to offer you a way out, Armiger.’

  Cole’s fist-knives were close to hand. The distance between them could be closed in a single leap. All he had to do was reach down into that oily black reservoir of power beneath, to where his own darkness lived. Reach down and siphon it …

  Andrew spread his palms. ‘You do not want my brother’s memories coming to light, Armiger.’ They circled each other on opposite sides of the chamber.

  Cole burned; Andrew thought he was a toy to play with. ‘There’s one way to take the teeth out of your memories, vampire.’ Killing Andrew would be so satisfying. It would be right.

  Andrew laughed. ‘Here? In the Council chamber? You think murdering me will help your cause, Armiger? Dear, dear.’ The vampire’s movements were smooth – he was animating, channelling his power. A burned-green aura flared around him. ‘I have the memory of you murdering my brother cold. That evil little knife of yours punching into him over and over, unmaking him. So much rage over such a little thing as a child.’

  Murder ran in Cole’s veins. It rattled his bones. Andrew paused, head cocked to one side like a vulture watching a lone desert traveller.

  Think, Cole. He was being baited. ‘Hang on, what’s this bullshit? You had the evidence I was guilty and let Nessie make a fool of you anyway? I don’t think so.’

  Andrew wheezed a laugh. Drowning animals sounded less disturbing. ‘Ah, the world is a simple place for you, Armiger. You walk around and hit things when you’re told to. Like a good thug. But there is more to this game than force, child.’

  Cole drew his fist-knives. ‘Don’t you child me, you wheezing piece of corpse-garbage.’

  Andrew backed off. ‘Perhaps you are right, Armiger; you are much too dangerous. You could sink any great player all on your own. Look at what you have done to the mighty Commander!’

  This had gone on long enough. ‘Get to your point, vampire, before I cut your head off.’

  The thin line
of Andrew’s mouth twitched like a leaping tic. ‘I was delighted and surprised that the Commander values you enough to throw his own life away. It would be a shame for him to bear the punishment for your crime, but I could hardly blame the citizens of the city for demanding their justice. Such a betrayal of their trust. I wonder how long it would take a wizard to die, hanged from the gallows?’

  It shrieked. The ground melted as he closed the distance. His foot catapulted from the pew in front of him, pinballing him through the air, his knives flashing with sunlight, briefly warming the dull space. He landed, the ground shaking his knees as his feet stung with impact, but the vampire was gone in a blur of motion.

  He drained his flask dry as It fought his gut armour. Shut up, gut vermin, stay still in there.

  Andrew paced by the exit. ‘Calm, Armiger. I’m trying to offer the Commander, and you, a way out of your mess. He is noble man I think, worth saving. Or you can draw on the power of your – whatever it is that lives within you – and kill me. Then you and the Commander will be stripped of rank, humiliated, and executed.’

  He’d take those odds – no monster got to shit on him like this and get away with it. But Nessie? Cole wasn’t worth Nessie’s life, that was as plain and simple as the pain in his chest whenever he thought about what the Council might do to the old man. There was no risk in hearing Andrew out while he figured out another way to solve this problem.

  ‘What do you want?’ No risk asking, but the words were still a battery acid burn.

  ‘At last, at last, the armiger comes to his senses.’ The growl that escaped him sent Andrew scuttling backward. The glow of satisfaction he usually enjoyed at intimidating monsters was dull and muted under the weight of his monumental debt; it was a sad day when Ethan Cole was considering doing the bidding of scum like Andrew Ancroft.

  The vampire became all business. ‘I have a problem I need to be rid of, Armiger.’ Of course he did. ‘I have one I need to disappear. Amongst all the other disappearances, this one must go too.’

 

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