The throne, hidden in darkness in the alcove high above the Grandmaster’s head, bloomed. Cole instinctively dropped his feet into a profile stance, hands straying to his belt. Cruickshank’s mob grumbled and shifted. The Grandmaster spoke.
‘Welcome, Greatshadow.’ Hidden eyes bored into Cole’s soul.
The Grandmaster muttered and cast a spell. The file from the Cipactli nest vanished from his hands. He turned to Cole.
‘Armiger, you don’t know what they did with the vampire’s bodies?’
It was hard to care what those freaks had done with the corpses, but the Council was always the same. They’d demand a bow to wrap it all up and act like he was lucky they tolerated him to live. He breathed deep, It simmering below.
‘No, I don’t know what they did with the missing bodies, but they’ll turn up. I’ll work it out. The Cipactli are dead, which means that the vampires will stop going missing.’
The dark alcove above stirred with motion Cole didn’t see but felt, like lifting the veil between life and death. The head of all the monsters in the city spoke.
‘These are only some of my missing brothers and sisters.’
After the night he’d had, after the injustice of what they were holding over him … Cole had done it, saved the city. Now the Council needed to release Nessie. He was in no state to endure a cross-examination.
Where the hell was Ancroft?
Cole tried to keep the edge from his voice. ‘Maybe there wasn’t paperwork for the others? The Cipactli lost it maybe, or I just didn’t find it?’
His words were swallowed by that black gulf above his head. Cole glanced at Nessie whose look was the same as when younger Cole used to try the dog-ate-my-homework routine.
The Greatshadow pressed. ‘These names account for over half of my missing kin, but what is your explanation for the other missing souls?’
There were more? He’d been too busy trying to get Nessie clear to pick up the Coalition’s reports. Shit. It wasn’t meant to go like this. They were meant to pat his back and politely ask for his help with the Pit problem. And where the hell was Andrew?
It wouldn’t go down too well for Cole to admit he didn’t have a fucking clue what the Greatshadow was on about. ‘I’m still working on the others, but I brought the Cipactli stuff here. I got that dealt with.’
He cringed inwardly. When the Greatshadow spoke, Cole’s ears weren’t sure whether they heard words, or the words were deposited straight into his brain.
‘You said you encountered them in the course of your investigation?’
‘Yes, I encountered their trail.’ Cole needed Andrew to be there. He needed Nessie’s life off the leash, free from his fuck-ups. At the very least, he needed to be able to kill Ancroft. ‘Where is Andrew Ancroft?’
As if it had heard him, the air before the raised tower of seats at the front of the chamber shimmered and bent. A white hole opened as a portal emerged, right in the heart of the chamber. The energy that must have taken, with all the wards on the Council chamber, was ridiculous.
A huge elemental mixture began to boil in the air. Steam washed out from flame red boulders as a Guardian of the Pit materialised into the chamber. It was immense. Awesome, in the true meaning of the word. Cole had never seen one in real life; the Guardians were a feature of Nessie’s stories. It wasn’t alone. A small human-shaped figure stood at its feet – meaning, presumably, Andrew had been brought to the chamber.
Cole had heard that the Guardians spoke through imagery. A series of impressions were pushed into his mind. A house. That night. Signs of a fight. It was Andrew’s place. More images of the Guardian, moving through vast space looking for Andrew. Nothing. Andrew Ancroft was missing.
More images flashed, searching for Andrew’s fledgling, the next vampire in line. The Guardian stepped back into its portal and vanished, leaving Henry Millar standing before the Council leaders. He wore an oversized jacket Cole recognised. He turned and looked at Cole. Then Henry Millar, the human–vampire fledgling, was escorted upstairs to the cheap seats by Sergeant Wells. What the fuck was going on?
Chapter 14
The raven-haired woman approached, twin blades in each hand, wreathed in the oily power of a siphon. So that was what she was. Was she the necromancer, raising the undead king the Mother had crowed about?
The siphon spoke. ‘Tut, tut. So disappointing. The Mother had such high hopes for you.’
Natalia had to move, somehow. Her muscles were solid; frozen. Not even her vocal cords worked. Whatever magic the siphon had cast, it was petrifying. The siphon strolled with an easy arrogance. The wytches in the gatehouse behind the siphon were also frozen, caught by the woman’s enormous power. This was a Cole-level threat. Natalia’s heart beat hard, caged within the impotence of her frozen body.
The siphon twirled her blades in a flashy display. ‘You can’t get out, Natalia. This pocket of the Ways is locked by a black-magic key.’
What talk of keys for black magic was this? That was clearly wrong – there was no such thing. But whatever the real reason was, they had been locked inside this place from the start. The futility of their escape was ash in her mouth. Astrid, beside Natalia, twitched. Such a small movement, but it was something. Astrid mumbled, and the raven-haired woman halted, an edge of caution entering her stance.
After a moment, the siphon relaxed. She stood before Natalia with an evaluating look.
‘Such a waste of talent, Natalia. There aren’t enough of your kind left. But the work we are doing is too special to allow you to ruin it. The Mother will just have to forgive me for killing her new pet.’
The woman’s smoky short swords swung back in an executioner’s swing.
‘Valeria!’ With a shout, Astrid burst to life. She invoked a huge war hammer appearing in her hands. Astrid swung the hammer up and blocked the blades as they arced toward Natalia’s neck. Valeria jumped back, surprise making her slow.
How Astrid had resisted the siphon’s magic, Natalia couldn’t imagine. Astrid pressed, roaring a war cry. Valeria’s swords swung in, clashing against the hammer’s haft. Astrid invoked her shield key, which formed a bubble of energy around her that sparked when Valeria’s faster swords nipped past her guard.
Astrid swung in great arcs, pressing Valeria back.
‘You murdering bitch,’ she snarled.
Natalia felt small movement return to her arms. ‘Millie.’ Her speech sounded slurred, like Cole after two bottles of whisky.
Valeria spun under one of Astrid’s swings and thrust her short swords in hard. Astrid’s shield flashed, but one of the swords pierced it, scoring a deep gash in her leg. The pain must have been fierce, but Astrid didn’t flinch. Instead, she reversed her hammer and cracked the haft into Valeria’s skull.
Millie stumbled over to Natalia whose limbs were still too frozen to move. Behind the duelling women, in the fortress, some of the wytches were also beginning to move in slow, clumsy motion.
‘Natalia.’ Millie’s voice was slurred. ‘We’re trapped.’
Astrid cried out behind Millie as she planted her boot on Valeria’s torso and sent the siphon sprawling. The bleeding from Astrid’s wound would start slowing her down; she was running on adrenaline.
They had to get out. Natalia had never heard of a black-magic portal key. Portal magic was Myriad magic; the idea of black-magic portals was nonsense. Unless there was a link? She pushed the thought away – survival first, research later. Her limbs were moving again, Millie was shaking her own arms.out. The wytches in the castle gatehouse were stumbling toward them.
Natalia had already used her obfuscation spell. There were no shadows, and her envy spell, so effective in the gatehouse when hidden by Millie’s trickster magic, would be of little help against a group of wary mages. But Millie’s magic often shared some keys with its neighbouring discipline – alteration.
‘Millie, the keys you have forged with Loki, can you stop the wytches or slow them down?’ Perhaps Millie could erect a wall
or something. Alteration magic was rare and very powerful.
Millie looked unsure. ‘I have a key I can try, but I haven’t used it yet.’ This was not the time for tutorials on the fly, but the wytches were gathering. Astrid slammed her war hammer into the ground, Valeria spun around Astrid while she was recovering her balance, her sword sparking into Astrid’s shield spell which saved her life. The biting blades bit deep, scoring another strike, a sword sliding into Astrid’s shoulder.
Natalia could see how heavy Astrid’s breath was. She bled from a score of wounds now. Valeria’s smoky Murk blades would have sheared right through any normal defence. Astrid struck out, grunting with pain when her fist connected, and Valeria was thumped back again.
‘Millie, you need to focus. Hold the key in your mind.’ A wytch in the gatehouse invoked, her shield of roaring water fountaining to life. Millie gasped.
‘Ignore them, Millie! You have to ignore everything.’
The mage from inside the gatehouse who was bonded to Sekhmet summoned a great Egyptian bow, blazing white with war magic. It was made of two curved horns, and the war mage summoned fire arrows to fill it with the ease of a cantrip.
‘Millie, now begin the offering, like you did when you used your key to hide my magic.’
The trickle of Millie’s power filled the space. Valeria pressed Astrid, the big woman falling back as the siphon’s blade sliced under her guard.
‘Natalia, the key is a mirror.’ Natalia knew a little of alteration magic, and all keys were functionally the same.
‘Don’t worry, Millie, whatever happens, just offer up your consciousness. Loki will answer the key with the power that it unlocks.’
The war mage had three arrows nocked. She aimed at Astrid, waiting for a chance to strike. Natalia was now fully herself again.
‘Tepoztopilli.’
Her weapon cantrip shimmered, a spear of golden sunlight appearing in her hand. ‘Chimalli.’ Her shield enveloped her left arm – a shield fit for an Aztec jaguar warrior but woven of pure magical power. Natalia launched her spear at the war mage and one of the wytches cried out a warning. Probably that blasted seer. The war mage ducked, just in time, but her aim and stance faltered, and she watched Natalia warily.
‘Natalia, I can see Loki. He’s calling me. There’s so much power down there.’
Natalia moved to stand beside Millie. Normally, a new mage would explore their powers with a more experienced mage in a safe environment, not in the heat of battle. And now, Loki, ancient power of the Myriad, was calling his new tryst-mate on to her doom.
‘Millie, listen to me, stay with the mirror. Don’t move past it, don’t leave your key, no matter what.’
A flash brought Natalia’s shield up on reflex. An arrow of fire jutted from it. Her shield began to bend and warp: the weave of the Aztecs, empowered by Mixcoatl or not, was vulnerable to fire. She knocked the arrow off. It couldn’t take many more of those, and a shield key was a cantrip only for the first casting.
Millie was a standing target. ‘Millie! Stay with your key. Whatever Loki offers, do not accept!’ Natalia summoned her spear and threw it toward the war mage, but three shields immediately roared to life to protect her. The wytches were back to fighting strength. Natalia had to get a vantage, she had to see the lay of the wytches’ forces beyond Astrid’s duel.
‘Cuāuhocēlōtl!’ The aspect of the eagle, her war cantrip for positional advantage over the enemy, carried her up into the air to hover like a great bird of prey. Below, the wytches gathered in the castle gate. Two elemental mages – one fire, one water. The seer Natalia had punched in the throat. There were also two war mages and a binder.
The binder – an alteration mage – was weaving a great crop of ropes which wound and coiled like snakes, animated by magic. Natalia threw her spear at the binder, summoning more and throwing them in a repeating rhythm, one after the other, like the rays of the sun itself. As she unleashed the spears, the elemental mages adjusted their shields to cover the binder. They hissed when the spears hit and tore chunks from the defensive magic.
The binder lost her focus, the spell withering. Below, Millie had the forming of her own alteration spell.
‘My brother, he’s here?’
Natalia’s flight cantrip faded, and she dropped to the ground. ‘Millie, it’s not real. Stay focused.’ They needed Millie’s spell. ‘I can’t hold them, Millie!’
Astrid stumbled, falling. Natalia roared, ‘Tepoztopilli!’ Her spear shimmered. She threw it at Valeria who was closing in on Astrid. Valeria jumped back, giving Astrid time to scramble to her feet.
Beyond the duelling women, the wytches spilled out of the gatehouse.
‘Millie!’
Fire arrows hissed and the elementalists gathered bolts of their elements to drown, slam and burn. The binder’s snakelike ropes reared, poised to strike. The wytches unleashed their spells.
And vanished.
Where they had been was a mirror-image reflection of Natalia and Millie, Astrid and Valeria. The two women duelled in the image, just as they did nearby. The mirror spell reflected the ground out toward the precipice, where they had tried to find the portal. It was as though they stood on a bubble of land, surrounded by nothing but the bruised purple sky.
Natalia peered at her mirrored self. A cry went up from beyond, where the castle and the wytches had been visible before. ‘Look out!’
There was scrabbling and detonation. Was the wytches’ hostile magic being reflected back at them?
‘Millie?’
Millie sagged, her face exhausted. ‘I combined the keys for illusion and alteration.’ She staggered. Natalia caught her. Valeria glanced at the illusion and snarled. If Millie was talking sense, it was an illusion made real. Astrid pressed while her opponent was distracted, but she was heavily wounded and moving slowly.
Shouts from the other side of the mirror wall could be heard plainly. Valeria flurried in at Astrid, shouting, ‘It’s an illusion. Unbind it quickly!’
Natalia summoned her spear and charged the siphon just as Valeria knocked Astrid’s war hammer aside and thrust for her heart. Natalia caught the sword and turned it aside. The smoky blade bit into Astrid’s ribs instead.
Astrid fell, crying out. Natalia pressed into Valeria. Where her sunlight spear hit the smoky Murk blades of the siphon, sparks flew. If the wytches dispelled Millie’s magic, it was over.
‘Millie, you must keep your spell hidden, like you did with mine at the gatehouse.’
Valeria spun and weaved, matching the spinning haft and straight strikes of Natalia’s spear with her own well-timed counterthrusts. Natalia’s spear swept low, then she thrust it high for Valeria’s head. The siphon danced back, and they circled.
Valeria was breathing deep. ‘What do you think you’re going to achieve, Natalia? The wytches will be through your trickster’s little ploy any moment. There is no way out – you’re finished.’
Natalia thrust her spear as Valeria opened her mouth to continue. The smoky blades bit her spear haft as the two came together, locked.
Astrid had picked herself up, but she bled too heavily to be of any more use in the fight. ‘Kill her. That siphon deserves death.’ Astrid’s voice was full of tight pain. There was only one way they might get out of this. It was a desperate idea, but Natalia would need to be free of Valeria to even try.
‘I have an idea, but I can’t do it while I’m fighting!’
From the corner of her eye, Natalia could see Astrid go to Millie, who was distracted by hiding the cords of her illusion spell from the wytches. Astrid whispered in the girl’s ear. Valeria circled, trying to find a way to Millie and Astrid. Natalia kept the siphon back, using her spear’s reach to its greatest advantage.
Astrid began to mumble, the smoke of power tanging the air. Valeria came on toward Natalia with a blistering offensive. The smoky Murk blades cut around her at cunning angles. Valeria struck with two feints in rapid succession, and thrust her sword true, under Natalia’s
guard, the point driving for her stomach. Natalia pivoted, spinning round so the blade passed her.
But she was not Valeria’s target. Valeria sailed past her, striking toward Astrid who was weaving whatever magic she and Millie had agreed upon. She was completely vulnerable, eyes closed, unable to protect herself. Natalia dived toward the gap between the rushing siphon and Astrid.
‘Oselotl!’ she cried, the jaguar giving her legs strength as she twisted to land on her back at Astrid’s feet, her spear slamming onto Valeria’s black swords as they tried to skewer Astrid, batting them away. Natalia lay on her back but spun her spear, striking rapidly in pointed jabs. She had to keep the pressure up on Valeria from the ground.
Astrid finished the spell and collapsed behind Natalia. For a moment, nothing changed. Then a mirror image of Valeria peeled away from the siphon. Valeria sneered. ‘What, you’ve copied me? All that for an illusion?’
Valeria advanced on Natalia and Astrid both, systematically battering through Natalia’s spear’s defence. Unless Natalia could move back and create distance, Valeria would pass her spear’s effective range and be free to gut her, close-up. Astrid, behind Natalia, was breathing in deep gulps, helpless.
Millie muttered and more magic flowed. Valeria didn’t see the change in her doppelganger, too busy pressing Natalia, smiling, working toward the killing stroke. The doppelganger, solidified by Millie’s alteration magic, snarled at her twin and closed on the real Valeria. The doppelganger struck, raising both swords in a great scything arc, lacerating Valeria’s exposed back. Valeria tumbled forward as the swords cut her, shock and pain on her face. Natalia scrambled to stand. Valeria’s doppelganger pressed the attack mercilessly.
A crack reported from her right, a thick gunshot of a sound. Natalia watched the illusion Millie had hidden them behind begin to snap. Millie’s change of focus in solidifying the doppelganger had allowed the wytches to begin unravelling the spell. Millie yelled.
‘They’re coming through! Natalia, whatever you are planning, you have to do it now!’
The Cost of Magic (The Ethan Cole Series Book 1) Page 17