Archon's Hope: Book III of 'The Magician's Brother' Series

by HDA Roberts

  One of the men here, I don't know his name, he told me that if I could hurt you, he'd pay me in relics. If I could kill you I'd get more. Please let me go?

  Think of this man, I commanded, my Will searing straight into his mind, where it gathered all the threads of his memory and showed me the man in question.

  They'd spoken in a side room, and the man was obscured by various forms of magic that hid his face and scent. Naturally he was dressed like every other man at the party, so no luck there. Bugger.

  I deleted his memories of me, along with everything he knew about telepathic manipulation before letting him go with a rudimentary Asimov charm that would stop him harming people in the future. And then I let him go and my perceptions shifted back into my own body, where a very irate vampire was spitting and hissing as he tried to rip himself free of the three-foot thick shadows stronger than steel, the idiot.

  "Oh, shut up," I said, erasing his memory too, placing the same no-harm enchantment in his brain. Start to finish, what with the complications of the Asimov charms, I'd been fighting for the better part of half an hour, and I was tired. I reversed the Shadow Magic and released the vampire to a long nap before staggering away.

  I had to leave. This had been a terrible idea. If there'd been a second vampire attacking while I was fighting telepathically, I may well have died. I dared not take any more chances. I went to the end of the corridor and started back in the direction of the front door, walking down the stairs, and quickly through the rooms where most of the guests were, hoping to avoid any more problems. I moved nonchalantly past men and women, and was nearly at the door when who should step out of the press but Arianna Hellstrom, resplendent in black silk, pearls and diamonds.

  "Well, well, the monster that destroyed the Paladin," she said with a sneer, "You have balls, showing your face after that!"

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, as the crowd turned to glare, hatred and disgust on their faces.

  "Braak filed his report, we know what you did, Monster," she said, backing away, an evil smile on her face that only I could see.

  This may have been an even bigger mistake than I thought, the crowd was taking on a distinctly mob-like look.

  "This is the man that destroyed the Paladin?" said a small, weasel-looking fellow with a long, thin nose and beady eyes, "Why is he still breathing free air? Why isn't he at the Farm?!"

  "Because I was defending myself," I said calmly, readying a new set of shields.

  "Black Magicians often have cause to defend themselves against the Paladin," said another Magician, taking a step towards me.

  "Look, I don't want any trouble," I said, backing away. I don't know why I bothered talking, this whole scene had the air of a script. Nothing I said would change the outcome.

  "Then you shouldn't have shown your face here, should you, Abomination?" said another man, fire flickering around his outstretched fingers.

  I swear, we were within a hair's breadth of a truly monstrous cock up, when the entire crowd seemed to tense, like naughty school-children caught by a teacher, their eyes focussed on something behind me. I moved so I could see it in my peripheral vision, determined not to turn my back on this pack of lunatics.

  What I saw... was difficult to describe. She was a woman, but unlike any I'd seen before. She was tall and graceful, with almost painfully delicate features, soft and lovely, with just the barest hint of sharpness to the cheeks and eyes. She wore a long, white gown, inlaid with pearls and diamonds, a thin crown of platinum circled her head, mostly concealed by her flowing golden hair. Her eyes were sky-blue, her expression gentle. I knew without checking that she wasn't human, or even Fairy, strictly speaking.

  Unless I was very much mistaken, she was a Sidhe. A very powerful one, going by the subtle energy that was radiating off her. That's a sort of High Fairy, the ruling class of the two parallel worlds they live in (one light, one dark), with all the other Fae races having their own societies in service to them. She appeared to be one of the Seelie (the nice ones, as supposed to the Unseelie, the sneaky, mean ones). I couldn't believe I retained all that information from Hopkins' lecture, I wasn't really paying attention!

  She wasn't overly tall, but still had a centimetre or two on me, and she was staring straight at me. I was expecting to have to defend myself from yet another direction, but she smiled, which made me blink hard. It was a lovely smile, warm and genuine, it diffused the tension in the room almost instantly.

  Thorne appeared from somewhere and bowed deeply to the woman.

  "Your Majesty, you are most welcome in my humble home," he oozed.

  "That is a generous welcome, Lord Thorne," she said, inclining her head, "I thought I would partake of your kind invitation to my ambassador, I hope I'm not imposing?"

  Her voice was musical, beautiful, really. It must have sounded wondrous when she sang...

  "Not at all, your Majesty," Thorne replied, "make yourself at home."

  She bowed her head slightly, and walked past him even as he looked poised for more grovelling. She headed straight for me.

  Crap, what was the etiquette for greeting a Fairy Queen? I never actually learned that. Better just do what Thorne did.

  I bowed low, right hand on my belly, left behind my back as she approached. To my immediate shock, she put a hand to my face and drew my head back up.

  "Greetings, Mathew Graves," she said softly, her eyes locking with mine, "Your compassion has become known to us."

  I didn't know what to say, and like my Grandmother says: ''Tis better to keep your mouth shut, and have people thing you're stupid, than to open it and remove all doubt.'

  So I stayed quiet, maybe looking a little like a startled deer.

  I did manage a "Thank you, your Majesty," though.

  She smiled again, taking a small piece of paper from her pocket and placing it in my hand.

  Do not lose this, she said into my mind, immediately and completely bypassing my mental defences which scared the hell out of me, Be at this place in two midnights after tonight, or innocent lives will be torn apart. Moria spoke for you, Grontor spoke for you. A Magician must come, and you are the only one of these jackals I dare ask. Will you come?

  I thought about it. My first thought was obvious: trap. But when I looked in her eyes I saw the pain there, the desperation; the need for help and the distrust of Magicians. She didn't really trust me, either, despite what she implied.

  I'll come, I said, if you promise me this isn't a trap.

  My word as Queen, on my heart and soul. I swear that I am telling you the truth and wish only for your help.

  Big words, binding words, especially for the Fae, doubly for the Sidhe. If they swear an oath, then they suffer badly if they break it.

  I'll come.

  She closed her eyes, a certain tension in her shoulders bleeding away.

  Thank you, she said.

  I bowed again. She bowed to me, and then walked back into the crowd, where a large group of Mages and other creatures descended on her, all thoughts of me forgotten.

  Well, that was cryptic and irritating. There's no way that whatever she wants isn't dangerous, and I've had my quota for the fortnight, thank you very much. But still, there was something there that struck a chord in my soul. And jaded though I am, I wasn't going to leave her in pain, or let innocent lives be torn apart if I could help it.

  The decision was already made, really. I was going to that meeting, and as soon as I was out of that mansion, I would look at the piece of paper and start planning.

  I started working my way around the edge of the crowd, heading for the door before the mob could remember I was there. I was nearly at the exit when I felt a soft hand on my shoulder.

  "Matty?" said a familiar voice, one that made my blood run cold.

  I turned slowly, my soul rebelling at her presence, my mind searing with remembered pain as she came into sight. She was tall and as beautiful as I remembered her. She wore green, and her copper hair was pu
lled back into a ponytail with a ribbon on the end that matched her dress.

  "I've missed you," Jocelyn Faust said.

  I didn't reply, I simply turned on my heel and walked briskly out the door.

  "Matty, wait!" she said, running to keep up as I tried to storm off, my chest a tight mess from the pain seeing that her again brought me. The last time I'd laid eyes on my first ever girlfriend was when she'd avenged her family pain on me by kissing my brother where she knew I'd see it, crippling me in the process.

  I'd been so distracted by that mess that I was nearly eaten by ogres!

  "Matty, please!" she said, her voice plaintive and miserable, "She was supposed to have told you by now! Wait! It wasn't what you think, please just let me explain?"

  Like an idiot, I stopped.

  "Oh, by all means, explain," I said icily, turning on her, "This should be good."

  She was brought up by the tone of my voice, and she looked away, tears in her eyes.

  "Did Miss Hopkins tell you anything? Anything at all?"

  "What would she tell me?"

  We were standing on the grounds, just off the gravel drive, about a third of the way to the front gates.

  "I didn't want to do what I did," she tried to explain, "I only did it to save you."

  "Of course you did," I said, turning away again, already fed up with that nonsense.

  "Matty, listen!" she said, grabbing my shoulder and spinning me around, "Hopkins swore she'd tell you about this, she told me she'd explain it all to you when you were safe. She came to me, she told me about the Severing, and she begged me to do what I did so that you wouldn't have to cast it! I told her no, Matty, I swear. But then she told me who she was, she showed me her signet, and she asked me again. I couldn't refuse an Archon, Matty, I just couldn't!"

  She looked about to launch into another bout, but I put up my hand.

  "You mean to tell me that an Archon came to you, and ordered you to break my heart?" I asked, "That she told you to do it in such a way that my relationship with my brother would be destroyed in the process?"

  She nodded, hope in her expression. I didn't want to believe it, but I could feel my heart breaking all over again. Hopkins... how could she? She wouldn't, surely? There had to be another explanation. I trusted Hopkins, I liked her. School aside, I considered her a friend, a good one. She wouldn't do that. She just wouldn't!

  "And why would she do that?" I asked, controlling my temper with an effort.

  "To keep you from making the biggest mistake of your life, to stop you from casting the Severing."

  "And why would you agree?"

  "Because I had nothing to lose, Matty. I was going to lose you anyway. This way Hopkins said that she'd help me get you back. She was supposed to have told you by now!"

  I looked in her eyes, those lovely eyes. But all I could see was the girl who'd broken my heart and left me a trembling wreck for two weeks.

  "I don't believe you," I said finally, turning away from her again.

  "Ask her!" she shouted after me, "Ask her if it's true, she won't lie to you, Matty! Ask her!"

  I was furious as I walked away.

  I simply didn't believe it. There was no way that Hopkins would do that, and that made Jocelyn an even bigger liar than I thought she was. There was no way I was believing her.

  But she didn't look like she was lying...

  There was a certain earnestness in her eyes, the same earnestness I'd loved in her when we were together.

  But Hopkins wouldn't do that to me. She was my friend... wasn't she?

  Chapter 6

  I decided to walk towards the bus stop rather than just fly back to Windward. It was quite a trek, but I needed time to think. I felt like my world was shaking on its foundations. I'd been able to justify not going through with the Severing by telling myself that it wouldn't have done any good; that Des was already too far gone for it to have helped.

  But if I was wrong...

  I felt sick with self-loathing. Had I just been looking for an excuse? Had I just latched onto the first 'out' that presented itself? I could practically feel my mind start to spin out of control with guilt and horror. I walked almost in a daze.

  So I almost missed the sobs.

  I slowed to a halt, listening hard. They were coming from just a little further along the road I was walking down. It was a commercial area, quiet and closed, but neat, quite swept up. Someone was crying nearby, someone young by the tone. I followed the sounds to the mouth of an alley, where I saw a shape huddled by some dustbins.

  "Hello?" I said, approaching.

  The crying intensified as the figure shuddered. It was a girl, no more than sixteen, pretty and obviously miserable, her hands over her face as her body was wracked by sobs.

  "Are you alright?" I asked gently, kneeling next to the girl. She just kept crying, shaking her head.

  "Miss, is there someone I can call for you?" I asked.

  She shook her head again, still wailing.

  I didn't really know what to do with that. I don't really have the social skills to comfort strange crying girls. I have enough trouble with the ones that aren't bawling their eyes out.

  With hindsight, this was a situation that practically screamed 'trap', but at the time, all I saw was a miserable girl who looked like she needed help; so I rushed in without thinking it through, like the very worst sort of movie idiot. You know the one, the unattached male in the horror movie you want to scream at for splitting off from the group to investigate strange sounds from a dark room.

  Suddenly, she stopped crying, turning her head to look at me.

  It was only at this point that I became a little suspicious. I know. I'm still embarrassed about it.

  God, I still remember the look on that girl's face. It was like looking in a corpse's eyes; there was nothing there, no pity, no compassion. It was like being under the gaze of a predator, and I was the prey. I started to stand, preparing to back away from her, but I was too late, too late by far.

  There was a massive impact to the back of my head and I was knocked out instantly.

  Danger.

  What?

  Danger!

  I was floating in a dark sea, weightless and peaceful. There wasn't air, but I could breathe, there wasn't a sky, but I could see stars, little twinkles of light all around, above and below. I felt a presence, immense and powerful, but benign, even affectionate. It was wrapped around me, insubstantial, only part of a much larger whole, but unmistakably there.

  It was whispering to me, and those whispers were getting very insistent.

  DANGER!

  Wake up!

  WAKE UP!

  I almost wished I hadn't, as I woke to pain, searing, awful pain.

  My head felt like it had been cracked open, and my right cheek was a patchwork of burning lines, like someone had taken a brand to my face.

  My eyes snapped open and I started to thrash.

  "Hold him, hold him! I'm not done yet!"

  I saw three people, no, four, the girl was holding my legs. There were two young men above my head, holding my arms, neither was handsome, and one had an ugly scar above his eyebrow. There was another leaning on my chest. He was young, skinny and lean, with whipcord muscles and a cruel face twisted into a sneer. His eyes were pools of darkness as he stared down at me, a knife in his hand, double edged and serrated, soaked with blood.

  My blood.

  They all wore dark clothes, except for the girl, who wore something akin to a school uniform.

  "He's awake!" one of the ones holding my arms said, "He's seen our faces!"

  "Then we'd better make sure he can't identify us, shouldn't we?" the one with the knife said, grabbing my face. I tried to scream, but he clamped his hand over my mouth.

  "Here, show us those eyes..." he said, the knife advancing.

  I felt the Spelleaters, both Knife-man and Scar-face were wearing them.

  In the end, it didn't make the slightest difference.

&nbs
p; I was terrified, enraged and in so very much pain.

  Trust me when I say that it's not a good idea to use magic when you're in that state, it creates problems... for the people who caused the Magician to be in said state.

  The terror made my shadows quick, the pain made them hard.

  The rage made them sharp and very brutal.

  They came from everywhere, like a great black fist closing on that alley. It happened so fast that there wasn't really a 'first' victim. But I think that the girl got hit before the others.

  There must have been some vestige of decency left in me, because the barbs didn't go for any major organs, they simply went for meat. A barbed coil raked her from head to toe, shredding flesh and tearing at eyes and lips before flinging her away to roll to a bloody halt next to the bin where I'd first found her.

  The two above me took pick-axe-like protrusions to shoulder and hips before heavy lances of darkness tore strips of skin and muscle away as they were tossed off me and up to slam into the walls, breaking arms and legs.

  The one with the knife, the one that had taken a weapon to me, and who would have cut out my eyes, lost both his arms, his own eyes, nose, lips, scalp and had both his legs broken by the sheer ugly force of the shadow that came for him.

  It was over in a second.

  The alley was utterly silent as four young people started to bleed to death.

  I screamed. I was horrified and scared beyond belief. My shadows came and surrounded me, holding me up, giving comfort as I pulled out my phone with shaking hands.

  "Kraab," he said after he picked up.

  "Help," I said, my voice a strangled sob, "Please help, they're dying, and it's my fault."

  "Mathew? Slow down," he said calmly, "Where are you?"

  I heard rustling and movement from his end, then heavy thumps.

  "An alley," I said, looking for a name, "off Harrow Street in Stonebridge."

  "Hold on, Mathew, I'm coming."

  He hung up, and I looked on in horror as four people started to die. I moved to the closest, called Flesh Magic and cast Basic Triage, after throwing his Spelleater to one side so I could do it. The bleeding stopped, and his lungs started to inflate more easily. I did the same for the others, and was just finishing with the girl, the least injured, when Kraab turned up, running full tilt, wearing trousers and a half-open shirt.