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

by HDA Roberts

  "It's destiny, it's written into our very being. We feel it, the second we lay our eyes on our intended, right here," she put her hand over her heart, "There's no mistaking it."

  "Why are you telling me this?"

  "Maybe not so smart," she said with a long sigh, "You are wanted in Unseelie, Magician. I would like you to come with me now."

  She stepped towards me, and I felt her power flowing.

  "No thank you. I accept your gratitude with humility, but my commitments prevent me from leaving at this time. My apologies," I said with a bow, as form demanded. That's the polite way to refuse a Fairy invitation, by the way, keep it in mind. Never accept an Unseelie invitation, it's like being thrown into same cage as a hungry tiger, exciting for the first few seconds; not a great idea for your long term survival.

  Seelie, fine, they're generally nice, you turn up, you get wasted, you engage in intimate activities with something or someone your really shouldn't, you come home, it's great. Unseelie... well, their parties are not as fun. I'm paraphrasing and summarising a lot of the stuff that Hopkins told me a while back, but you're getting the idea.

  Unseelie is a realm as dark as Seelie is bright. It's castles and fortresses and decadence. And not in the fun way. It's fun for the people at the top, no doubt, less for those lower down the totem pole. I'm not sure what they want to fight, really, but they are certainly a militant lot. I could go on and on about the differences in temperament, culture, metaphysics, and a whole bunch of other stuff, but the idea is: Seelie good, friendly, trustworthy, Unseelie bad, tricky, self-centred (though going by Adriata, at least they love their kids, which counts for a lot in my book).

  "I'm very sorry to hear that," she said, though she didn't look all that sorry, "These are riches and powers waiting for you there, the likes of which you've never known."

  "I have enough of both to be going on with, thank you."

  "What of pleasures, then? For you there could be all the pleasure of three worlds."

  "Hedonism isn't really my speed," I replied (an outright lie, but she was creeping me out).

  "You are seeing me? You're seeing what's being offered to you?" she said, some annoyance creeping into her expression.

  "Yes, I see what you want me to think is being offered to me. I just know better than to believe you."

  Her smile turned predatory, "Paranoia is healthy, it will serve you well when we get home," she said, calling more power. She reached for me suddenly, blindingly fast, and there was a colossal flash of purple light as a sphere swallowed us both up.

  Well, swallowed the Illusion of me up, anyway. The real me was hiding safely behind a bush like a sensible person. I'd been there ever since 'you are wanted in Unseelie'. Turns out that was a very good idea.

  "Oh my God!" said a familiar voice as Palmyra came out from under a glamour of her own. The Lifeweaver looked a little distressed. She wore comfortable clothes, cotton and baggy, with a white band about her upper arm. She pulled out a mobile, "Vanessa, they took him," she said.

  "No they didn't," I said before this embarrassment could get any further along.

  I had to take a step back as her emotions slammed into me. That's the problem with Life Magicians, they have a very intense empathic sense which also acts as a sort of projector. If you're sensitive enough, and unfortunately I am, when a Life Mage feels something strongly, I feel it too; it was the same with Cassandra.

  Palmyra's relief hit me like a car, along with her affection, her pride and just a little bit of anger. Which was strange, I didn't really know her well enough for that intense a response. I'd met her maybe three times, and one of them had been her performing triage on my chest.

  She pulled me into a crushing hug, which cut off my circulation. I felt Life Magic buzzing over me as she checked me for injuries (at least I thought that's what she was doing).

  "Don't scare me like that!" she said, pulling back.

  "Sorry?" I said, still quite confused.

  "We do not go into Unseelie!" she said, still looking a little panicked, "The thought of you going..."

  "Don't worry, I've read the books so I'm suitably afraid. That's why I tricked her," I said, scratching my head, a little embarrassed by her attention.

  "That, in itself, is nothing to sneeze at. We can't generally pull one over on a Fairy, even a young one like her. I'm more than a little proud, and also worried, that's either going to make her astronomically mad, or... something else we need not discuss, let's hope for mad."

  "How long until she comes back?"

  "Oh, it'll be a while," she replied with a dazzling smile, "First she'll spend an inordinate amount of time looking for you on the other side, then she'll have to explain to her mother why she doesn't have you; then will come a new plan, and then she'll come back. You probably have a week or two."

  "Two weeks?" I said, "How can an immortal being be that impatient?"

  "I'm immortal, I still joined the queue a week before the Episode I premiere."

  "What, really?" I asked, a little surprised. She nodded.

  So, Archons are human after all, that was actually rather a pleasant revelation.

  "I know that things between you and us are a little strained right now..." she began.

  And naturally it all came crashing back, which, of course, she felt.

  "Ohhh," she said, stepping towards me, staring at me, "Well, that makes considerably more sense."

  "Hey!" I said, dropping mental shields into place.

  "Not my fault, you shouldn't emote so loudly. And I'm sorry about how you're feeling. I wasn't in favour of doing it the way it was done. I wanted you told right up front. I knew you'd find out and if you heard it from someone else that it would be much like this."

  And now I was angry again. I'd always suspected that the others were in on this whole mess. Just goes to show how important my piece of their plan is.

  "From your expression, I'm guessing that telling you this hasn't inspired you to warmth and forgiveness," she said sadly.

  I turned and walked away from her too, doubling my mental shields as I went. God, but I was so very sick of Archons.

  "This will all make sense one day, Mathew," she called after me, "I promise."

  And I promise you that one day I'm going to make you deeply regret manipulating me like this, I thought. Didn't say it, of course; I'm still not an idiot.

  I found Bill and Cathy in the computer lab, their laptops hooked up to the school network. Bill was winning for once, Cathy looked like she was getting snarky. I told them what had happened, Cathy didn't look happy, Bill volunteered to take my place.

  I just tried to forget about the whole thing.

  Though you can just guess how good a plan that was...

  I did get ten days of peace and quiet, though, which was always welcome.

  It was a Tuesday, the week before half-term. Monday had seen a Magic Class that had been interminable. I won't bore you with the details, but when we were done I was willing to shove a shadow so far down Maria Hellstrom's throat that I could have tickled her lower intestines. I didn't, but it was a close run thing.

  I wasn't in too bad a mood that day, though. Bill and I had finished our last classes of the day, double English with herself. The English block ran along the 'South' edge of the playing fields, while the rest of the school was along the 'West'. We were walking across a Rugby field, off to meet Cathy, who would just be finishing her History class.

  "At what point are you planning to forgive that woman? Every time she looks in your direction, it's like she's a puppy and you kicked her," Bill asked with his usual lack of tact.

  "Don't be fooled, she's manipulating you," I said.

  "All I'm saying is that she can manipulate you, and still feel bad about it later."

  "Well, that's alright then," I said levelly. He rolled his eyes and we walked on.

  But he was right, as much as I hated to admit it. And, if I was absolutely honest, I missed Hopkins. Talking to her had been so easy
, it was like talking to Des before he went insane, only with less lying. I was coming around to the point where I wanted to forgive her, even needed to, but a combination of hurt and my own stupid pride was getting in the way. She had saved my soul, if not my life; I knew this intellectually. I was doing my best, but I wasn't quite there yet.

  We were almost to the History building when I saw four figures walking towards us from the main arch that led under Curie House and into the square in front of the Big House. They were dressed in S.C.A. armour which was essentially enchanted firearm-police kit. They wore dark, skin-hugging clothing under heavy body armour, though without helmets, which struck me as a little foolish (the head being the one body part not even I can grow back. Some Death Mages can, but they're the creepy exception rather than the rule). They also carried guns and wands, which was a little worrying; those wands looked especially nasty.

  "Bill, it might be best if you weren't quite so close to me," I said, worried.

  Those four didn't look friendly. Three men and a woman, and the woman looked the most dangerous. She was pretty enough, with brown hair, attractive lips and soft features, but her smile was downright evil. Of the men, two were young-looking, both tall and strong with dark hair and piercing eyes. The oldest was short and broad with an ugly scar running from crown to chin, almost down the middle of his face, passing his nose on one side.

  "How close should I be?" he asked, his voice shaking.

  "I mean run, Billy," I said, raising my shields and casting Mage Sight as he made a break for it.

  Oh dear. Two Wizards, two Sorcerers. The woman and the short man were the strongest. His affinity was Fire. Hers was Death, which was very, very bad. The other two were Air Mages, dangerous, but nothing compared to the first two.

  "Mathew Graves!" said Shorty (I'm calling him Shorty), "by order of the Conclave Of Great Britain, you are hereby placed into custody for telepathic questioning and a statement of intent. You will lower your shields and come with us!"

  Well, damn it.

  Chapter 11

  My first instinct was to do as I was told. I couldn't go to war with the Conclave, after all. But my natural paranoia was telling me other things.

  "Where's Kraab?" I asked, not lowering my shields.

  I also noticed that he'd said 'Conclave' not 'Archons', which was another warning sign.

  "Agent Kraab is busy," Shorty continued, "you will surrender to us now."

  "I won't surrender to someone I don't know," I said quite reasonably. After that near-ambush at Thorne's party, I wasn't inclined to trust anyone at the Conclave, "I'll surrender myself to Agents Braak, Knowles or Kraab, no one else."

  He smiled nastily, bringing a rolled up scroll out of his pocket. He tossed it to me. I called it to me with my Will, bringing it through my shields. It was a long document on an expensive piece of paper. It sure looked official, and it held the Conclave's seal (an eight pointed star on a knight's shield).

  Long story short, the Conclave had issued a warrant for my detention and interrogation, on suspicion of assault, battery, aiding false imprisonment (no idea on that one) and telepathic assault.

  Shorty pulled a small black leather wallet from another pocket, flipping it open to show an I.D. on one side and a silver badge on the other. Conclave Guardians, Hunter detachment. I'd met their sort before.

  I wasn't going with them, no way in Hell.

  "I'm sorry," I said, doubling my shield power, "I've told you who I'm willing to surrender to."

  "The Conclave doesn't move to your whims, Shadowborn," the Death Mage said, who we will call Morticia for the moment.

  They were all calling energy now. So was I.

  "I ask you one more time to come quietly," Shorty said, his form blurring from gathered heat.

  "And I've told you that I will, when you bring me someone I know I can trust," I said, sweating heavily, "I've had bad experiences with Hunters, which I'm not keen to repeat."

  "I warned you," Shorty said, "Take him. Alive if possible, but I don't especially care."

  The others grinned, and I waited. I couldn't fire the first shot, not if they really were acting for the Conclave.

  Morticia cast first.

  Death Magic was very, very nasty. It was also horribly difficult to defend against. Because I didn't know how to cast a Life Shield, I was forced to rely on pure Will, which was draining. Thankfully I was ready for a fight, and even as the beam of pure black energy smacked into my hasty barrier, I was hurling a Choking Fog curse at their feet, which exploded into a billowing black cloud. Unfortunately this Death Mage had defied convention and was actually shielding herself, which caught my attack and shredded it with a pulse of entropy.

  One of the Wizards wasn't so lucky, and microscopic shards of shadow got into his eyes, nose, mouth and ears, digging in before expanding and tearing. It wasn't enough to kill him, but he was instantly out of the fight.

  The other three were frantically dispelling, protecting each other, which gave me time to get my shields up and my dispel cannon cast. It was an invention of mine, incorporating a whole bunch of smaller spells into a mini-factory that produced self-guiding dispels designed to destroy any spell not powered by my Magical Signature. I'd improved on it since the first time I'd cast it, and now it had built in shields hooked up to my generator spells. It appeared as a bright blue diamond above my head just in time to spit out a quartet of tiny blue orbs, which intercepted two balls of plasma that were searing towards me from Shorty.

  I gathered the Force I'd been saving and hurled it at Morticia, who put more power into her shield, and took the hit, while the last Wizard called wind and started throwing condensed bursts of razor-sharp air at my face. My cannon got them all; self propelled spells like that were easy prey for it. Beams of energy like the Fire-lance Shorty threw next... not so much.

  I was in a quandary; I could only defend against Morticia's Death Beams with Will, but the way the Hunters were attacking meant that I was taking all their attacks on the Will shield (certainly by design), that meant that my Well was emptying much faster than it would if I'd been able to use my regular shields against the Air and Fire Mages; against three competent Battle Magicians, that could very well be fatal (and I do mean fatal).

  More dispels shot at the two beams, detonating and robbing them of strength, which helped a little, but wasn't definitive by any means. My Well was already down by a quarter, and it would only get worse. I had to go on the offensive, and that meant really hurting people who might just be doing their jobs...

  Oh well. They were trying to kill me.

  I focussed and shadows came into my hand. I readied the spell and cast it straight at Morticia. Her entropy shields caught all but the tiniest shard of my Shadow Lance, the rest of it sacrificed to get something through. It hit right on her shoulder, and within a few seconds, the shadow had spread, making little holes, which filled with even more shadow before simply exploding. It was a tiny detonation, but it would probably still have killed anyone but a Death Mage.

  Her left arm came away in a crack, black blood spraying over Shorty's shields and evaporating.

  "Aldona!" Shorty screamed, turning from me.

  "No!" Morticia / Aldona shouted, but it was too late, and a mountain of shadows dropped on his head. He was distracted; it was foolish, but understandable. Aldona fired off another Death beam into the onrushing tide of darkness, but there were too many; Shorty was too distracted, and I was too bloody mad (I get that way when people try to murder me).

  His flickering shields started to burn brighter, but I'd already thrown in a few dispels from the cannon to help my crushing shadows. His defences quickly buckled and then failed. I heard him scream as my shadows crushed and battered him, breaking every extremity they could get while throttling him into unconsciousness. Ugly, but effective.

  Lightning blasted into the left side of my shields, I turned to release a wave of force at the last Wizard, who lost his shields and went arse over ears. As a result,
I nearly died when a beam of Death Magic slammed hard into my shields, tearing apart all but the last one before I put my Will back in place. I rebuilt my defences and called more force, readying an even larger and heavier Shadow Lance, which I then threw at Morticia.

  She threw a great gout of Death Magic at it, and what was left couldn't hope to get through her shield. So I sent shadows, lot and lots and lots of shadows. Light isn't a popular school of Magic among Death Mages, they don't need it, and most see it as contrary to their scary image. Death Magic itself generates exactly no incidental light.

  Bad for her.

  The Wizard was getting back up again after his blasting, and I released a more coherent beam at him this time, which tore apart his hastily rebuilt shields and blasted through his hip, shattering it and hurling him onto his back by way of his face.

  Morticia was hurling beams of Death into my shadows, tearing them apart, but there were always more, and she only had a limited amount of Magic to work with, compared to me. She gave up attacking them and focussed on me instead. She poured Death into my Will shield, tiring me. But all the while, my shadows came at her, over and over, taking a little more of her energy every time they bit into her shield and were dispersed.

  And then the clever bitch nearly got me!

  She threw a dispel, a really powerful one, right out of the blue, just as my shadows got through her shields and into her flesh. The dispel hit my Will Shield and shattered it. My shadows tore into her spine, throwing off her aim just enough to deflect the last remnants of her beam from my heart to my lower left side. It speared straight through, creating a rotten hole about a centimetre in diameter.

  I screamed in sheer and awful agony.

  It felt like my side had been torn off. Thankfully my shields and shadows didn't need active concentration, and they stayed up and regenerating even as the shadows were set free of my conscious control and tore heavily into the cause of my pain.

  There... there wasn't much left of her except half a badly mangled torso. Thankfully Death Mages were tough; a Death Sorcerer could survive as long as their brain or heart was intact, they didn't even need both! As long as one or the other was still in one piece, their Soul had a place to live, and they could eventually heal themselves. She'd be fine.