Science and Sorcery

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Science and Sorcery Page 33

by Christopher Nuttall


  “Useful,” Caitlyn said. Her bleeper buzzed, asking her to call the infirmary immediately. “Excuse me.”

  She picked up her cell phone and dialled the number she’d memorised. “This is Lyle,” she said shortly. “Go ahead.”

  “I think you’ll want to see this,” Kaleen said. “Mindy Jackson had a vision of her brother.”

  It only took ten minutes to run from the research labs to the infirmary. Caitlyn had heard about what had happened to Mindy, but the girl had been moved into the infirmary after Kaleen had healed her and she hadn't heard anything since. At least one member of the theoretical committee had suggested cutting her throat while she was asleep, because she might turn out as bad as her older brother, only to have Caitlyn shoot the idea down. They weren't about to murder schoolchildren because they might be a threat.

  Mindy was sitting up in bed playing with fire, literally. Caitlyn watched as she tossed a fireball from hand to hand under Misty’s supervision, despite the increasingly horrified looks from her parents. They’d suddenly discovered that the nightmare was real after all. Caitlyn motioned for one of the nurses to escort them both out of the room, where they could sit down and try to recover, and then looked down at Mindy. The little girl’s face was illuminated by the flames curling over her hands.

  “She’s mastered the fire spell already,” Misty said, almost as if she were a proud parent. “And I think she can master the water spell too...”

  Caitlyn shook her head. “Leave that for the moment,” she said, and sat down next to Mindy. “What did you actually see about your brother?”

  Mindy clenched her fist and the fire vanished. “He killed someone,” she said. Caitlyn had known that the world could be horrible from a very young age, but Mindy had been raised in innocence. “I saw her die.”

  “I see,” Caitlyn said, after a moment. “Did you recognise her?”

  The girl shook her head. “And there was another woman with him, holding the strings,” she said. “She looked up and saw me and...”

  Her voice trailed off. “Her quarters almost burned down completely,” Misty said, flatly. “I think the Queen of Nightmares used some kind of spell to lash back at her.”

  Caitlyn scowled. Remote viewing had been experimented with long before the return of magic, to rather mixed results. Now, the whole process was rather more reliable, allowing the CIA to spy on the enemies of the United States. But it seemed to have laws of its own that didn't quite make sense. And now it wouldn't be long before the Chinese – or someone else – figured out how to do the same to American spies.

  “Leave that for the moment,” Caitlyn said, gently. “Do you know where he is, or where he’s going?”

  “I don’t know,” Mindy admitted, after an internal struggle. “He’s near here, but I don't know where. All I saw were gravestones...”

  It took Caitlyn several seconds to realise the truth. Golem hadn't been able to identify all of the places of power, particularly the ones that had died in his time, but the mention of gravestones suggested a cemetery. And a graveyard, he’d said, might be able to serve as a substitute for a place of power. Given enough time, it might even become a place of power.

  “Call Matt and Golem,” she ordered. There was only one place in Washington that Calvin could have in mind. No, there were others, but her instincts were telling her that her first thought had been the right one. “Tell them that we’re departing immediately. We have to stop him before it’s too late.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Washington DC, USA

  Day 36

  In the space between dimensions, Harrow waited.

  Enchanter had been no match for her, let alone the Thirteen as a whole. Collectively, they’d possessed enough power to stand off the remainder of the Brotherhood and victory seemed just a matter of time. Once they held the world, they could complete their planned rise to godhood and go their separate ways. The oaths they’d sworn to each other prevented betrayal, the normal outcome of any collaboration between magicians. They should have taken the world.

  But Enchanter had been clever, so very clever. And so very sly. They’d seen the promise of success and leapt at it, without even considering that it might be a trap. Indeed, the prison Enchanter had constructed for them was so carefully prepared that it had taken them years to realise that they were in prison, that the world they’d tried to rule had managed to defeat them and moved onwards. Harrow hadn't been the only one to go mad with rage and hatred when they’d finally realised the truth. They’d all spent thousands of years completely insane, yet unable to die, even by cancelling the spells they’d used to make themselves effectively immortal. Enchanter might not have realised it, but his prison kept them alive as well as trapped. They’d gone mad and recovered and gone mad again...

  Finally, when the first chinks had appeared in the structure, Harrow had wondered if they were just another delirium. But she'd sent her mind questing out, careful not to be fooled by more trickery or reflections of her own desires, and had realised that the prison was slowly breaking apart. Her thoughts reached back into the world and she realised that most of the mana field was gone. That had caused no small amount of amusement when she’d shared it with her fellows. Enchanter had been so desperate to stop them that he’d accidentally destroyed civilisation itself. Without magic and magicians to guide them, who knew what the mundanes would do?

  Her thoughts had skimmed from person to person, picking up details about the new world that puzzled and alarmed her, until she finally found someone tapping into the mana field. Calvin had vast potential, perhaps as much as Harrow herself when she’d been a lowly apprentice, and a resentment and hatred that made him easy to manipulate. She'd touched his mind, introduced herself, and offered training, carefully steering him further into the path of darkness. Each step he took pulled him further into Harrow’s spell, until he truly had nowhere else to go. And now he was coming to free her...

  The modern world was strange. Vastly overpopulated by Harrow’s standards, with a colossal number of potential magicians. And Enchanter, the sly bastard, had left them a message that could help the new magicians learn to master their powers. The odds were good that he’d warned the authorities about the Thirteen too. By the time the prison finished cracking open, the modern world might be ready for them.

  She reached out again and touched Calvin’s mind, cursing her own mistake. He’d been so isolated that it hadn't really occurred to her that he might care for his sister, even if he had used magic to wipe her mind. And now Calvin doubted her, even as he made his way towards the newly-created place of power to break the lock that held her firmly imprisoned. She could only hope that he would still play his role to perfection...

  Thousands of years ago, a god had died, leaving a blackened mark in the fabric of the universe. The Thirteen had uncovered it several thousand years later, intending to use it to help them make their own bid for godhood, but they’d been tricked and exiled before they’d ever had a chance. As far as Harrow knew, the Brotherhood had never suspected its existence. The land surrounding it was barren and sparsely populated. And thousands of years after that, the modern world had turned it into a cemetery. Harrow rather doubted that was a coincidence.

  She settled down to wait, uncertain if she’d killed Calvin’s sister or not. Calvin might have sensed it if she’d done anything more focused and Harrow’s searching thoughts hadn't been able to find the sister at all. It wasn't too surprising – Mindy had never demonstrated magic – but it was still annoying. Harrow knew better than to discount someone because they were young. She’d been young when she’d killed her master and taken his books and Objects of Power for herself.

  And soon she would be free. After that, no one would be able to stop her.

  ***

  Calvin had never been to Washington before, but somehow he hadn't really expected the nation’s capital to have the same stench of fear that had gripped New York. The streets seemed oddly empty, apart from taxis a
nd a number of police and military vehicles. A group of men were setting up spotlights in the middle of broad daylight, something that made absolutely no sense to him. If they hadn't been escorted by a trio of soldiers carrying weapons, he would have dismissed it without a thought. Instead, he found it worrying.

  At least they haven’t found the sacrifices yet, he told himself. After Jewels, he'd sacrificed four other people in quick succession, risking the danger of madness. The sooner Harrow was free, the sooner he could start rebuilding his life. All he had to do was reach the place of power.

  He climbed out of the Metro station at Arlington Cemetery and stopped, dead. He had never really realised just how big the cemetery was, even when he’d looked it up on the internet. There were a number of soldiers nearby on patrol, although they didn't seem to be looking for him; Calvin made a mental note to give them a wide berth as he headed for the gates. If there was a second Hunter in military service, or even if the first Hunter had deduced where he was going, his wards wouldn't protect him.

  The ghosts assailed him as soon as he walked up the Memorial Drive. Calvin could see them – there had been reports of other people seeing ghosts at the cemetery – and they could see him; in fact, he seemed to be the only person they bothered to notice. Countless angry ghosts, flickering translucent images that weren't entirely there, pressed in around him, their touch chilling him to the bone. None of them looked entirely human any longer; they’d seen things that no mortal had ever seen. And a couple looked to still be badly wounded from their service.

  Calvin staggered under their onslaught. Harrow had said that ghosts were just memories burned onto the world when someone died in agony, but these ghosts felt different, as if they were aware of the world they haunted. Maybe his magic made him visible to them, he guessed, as he tried to reinforce his wards. A line of soldiers wearing uniforms that dated all the way back to the War of Independence were blocking his path. He staggered again under the sheer concentrated hatred they directed at him, and then pushed his way forward. The air turned cold as ice for a long chilling moment, before the effect faded away. He seemed to be clear of them.

  He passed through the visitors centre and started to walk towards the centre of the cemetery. There were more ghosts waiting for him, some trying to block his path, others just staring at him with cold sightless eyes. He knew they could do nothing to hurt him, not really, and yet they chilled him to the bone. No one else seemed to be aware of their presence. Looking at them, it struck him that there were far fewer ghosts than he would have expected. Where were the others?

  Some will remain here forever, bound body and soul, Harrow said. If she was shaken by the ghosts, there was nothing in her voice to show it. They chose to remain here, on guard.

  “On guard?” Calvin asked, drawing a sharp look from an elderly woman who had just left flowers in front of a gravestone. “Against what?”

  Enemies, perhaps, Harrow said. There was a moment of glittering amusement. But I suggest you hurry. Not everyone here is blind to the ghosts.

  Calvin blinked in surprise, and then looked over at a small group of men in the distance, surrounded by ghosts. They looked...alarmed, although given the way they were glancing around, it was clear that they weren't sure why they should be alarmed. Stepping behind a gravestone, he pulled an invisibility glamour over his body and started to run, hoping it would shield him long enough to hide from the searchers. He had no idea if it would protect him from someone wearing night-vision equipment.

  There, Harrow said. You may begin the spell...

  The ghosts suddenly swarmed down on him again, cold hands ripping into his soul, no matter how tightly he held his wards. There was a shout in the distance and a cold sensation of triumph from the ghosts; Calvin opened his eyes to realise that they’d broken the glamour and a number of armed soldiers were racing towards him. They could see him. Desperately, Calvin reached into his magic and shoved them away from him, feeling the mana congealing oddly around the place of power. Hundreds of other ghosts flared into existence, as if they’d just been waiting for a charge. In the distance, Calvin heard alarms starting to ring.

  Draw on the local power, Harrow instructed. Calvin followed her advice as best as he could, wondering if he’d made a terrible mistake. There was a military base right next to the cemetery. And a naval annex. And wasn't there an entire military unit devoted to protecting the cemetery? Seal the place of power off from the rest of the world.

  Calvin obeyed, hearing the ghosts screaming their outrage. But the fires burning through him now kept them back, preventing them from tearing into him again. He was safe.

  And now, Harrow added, we begin.

  ***

  Golem could run faster than any human, Matt realised, as he and Misty clung desperately to Golem’s back. The streets near Arlington Cemetery were suddenly snarled by cars that had stopped working, jamming up the streets and making it difficult for reinforcements to reach the place of power. Behind them, Caitlyn was following with the other magicians and Mindy Jackson, whom she’d insisted on bringing. Matt could only hope that they weren't bringing a child into a deadly firefight.

  It was hard to speak, but there was no choice. “The sky,” he said. “What’s happening to it?”

  “He is unleashing a vast amount of mana in a very small space,” Golem said. He was moving at incredible speed, but he didn't sound remotely winded. “The local environment is being affected.”

  Matt winced, feeling a cold shudder running down his spine. The sky was rapidly turning an evil sickly yellow colour, broken only by flashes of multicoloured lightning. Maybe it was just his imagination, but it seemed to be getting darker too, as if storm clouds were gathering at impossible speed. In the distance, Arlington National Cemetery seemed to be glowing with light.

  “He’s put up a shield,” Golem grated, as they rounded the corner and raced towards the site. Matt winced as he saw a shimmering dome of light surrounding Arlington Cemetery, surrounded by figures that seemed translucent, as if they were nothing more than ghosts. He caught sight of a ghost who looked surprisingly like General Lee before Golem cantered past and stopped dead, right in front of the shield. “I may have to try to break it with force.”

  Matt hesitated, and then pulled his rucksack off and opened it, revealing the Niven’s Wheel he’d snatched from the labs before they’d boarded the cars. “We can try to weaken it first,” he said, grimly. “Misty, trigger it.”

  Misty hesitated, and then obeyed, pushing the wheel as close to the shield as they could. It started to spin, moving faster and faster as it sucked in the local mana, but Matt couldn't sense any sudden weakness. The Wheel started to glow brightly, forcing Matt to look away, just in time to see a colossal explosion on the other side of the city. There was no time to investigate what had happened there. A second later, the Wheel disintegrated in front of them, leaving the field untouched. Only the protective casing saved them from being struck by red-hot shrapnel.

  “Too much mana,” Golem growled. He stepped forward and pushed his fist into the field, trying to force it forward. There was a brilliant flash of light and he was shoved backwards by an unseen force. “He must have claimed other victims before coming here.”

  Matt looked up as a ghostly hand fell on his shoulder. Someone he vaguely recognised from history classes was looking down at him, pointing to the field. Was he trying to say Matt should try to break the field? Matt hesitated, and then gambled, pushing his hand forward into the sheet of light. Raw power crashed down around him, as if he’d walked under a waterfall, and then started to break apart at his touch. Walking forwards wasn't easy, but somehow he made it...

  He’d seen pictures of Arlington Cemetery, but he’d never had a chance to visit before it was too late. It had been devastated by the raw mana storm; buildings had been destroyed, graveyards uprooted and everyone in the area had been killed. Matt’s senses threatened to overload as he sensed the mana growing stronger, before he pushed it aside and started
to run. He had to get there before it was too late.

  ***

  Steering so much mana was almost impossible, like trying to control a low-powered boat while trying to drive up the rapids. Calvin felt pain flaring through his head as he forced the mana to slip into the interdimensional nexus, finally realising just how Enchanter had trapped the Thirteen. Their prison pulled so much mana in that it pushed them down, pooling at the bottom like a never-ending waterfall. It was ironic, in a way; they had enough mana to make themselves gods, but only of the pocket dimensions Enchanter had built to hold them. Escape was impossible, at least without help from the outside.

  His mind seemed to slip free of his body as the mana finally started feeding its way into the twist he’d identified as the lock. The world was twisting around him, slowing down; he saw the ghosts standing around him, as if they’d given up hope. One by one, they turned their backs on him, a final pointless defiance. And then a hand fell on his shoulder.

  “Do you really want to do this, lad?”

  Calvin jumped. “What?”

  The ghost seemed rather more...understanding than the others. “I was mistreated too, by my superiors,” he said. He sounded rather rueful, as if something that had once been important no longer mattered. “In the end, I had enough and turned traitor. It didn't get me anything I actually wanted, even if everyone knows my name. Do you really want to do this?”

 

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