by Darren Lewis
Jack, your story has yet to be told but I promise I'll try and make it a good one.
As I finish up the final edit of this book one of the finest writers of our age Sir Terry Pratchett has passed away. I urge you to read his works and discover what a magnificent contribution he made to our world.
1666 London
“Run! For god's sake, run!”
Eleanor was standing on the outskirts of the smouldering city her eyes drinking in the sight of the destruction wrought due to her presence there.
“I can't! I can't!”
Without the orb's assistance, and Eleanor's determination to find some form of medicine for the awfully injured Cole, she had lost track of the years. If she'd been aware of what year it was she would've avoided London altogether.
“I'll carry her. Come here.”
Eleanor swayed with exhaustion, fragments of memories bursting unbidden into her mind. Sights and sounds replayed in her mind's eye again and again. Isabelle had found her staying in the city two nights ago. Isabelle's new Baiulus network had eyes in all the major cities of the world now and Eleanor had grown careless this time. Isabelle's grief it would seem had transformed from not wanting to see Eleanor again into actively pursuing her and now Isabelle herself chased Eleanor mercilessly through the narrow streets and alleys of London, calling out to her, goading her, teasing her mind into submission.
Eleanor rubbed her red, raw eyes and found herself crying without realising. Around midnight Isabelle had tired of the chase and unleashed her magic. Thunderbolts detonated destroying everything in their path as they sought to ground themselves. Eleanor avoided these easily and Isabelle caught on quick that she couldn't control the lightning in such a confined sprawl of housing. Frustrated by the architecture of the city Isabelle taunted Eleanor as she fled into the darkness.
“Come out to me or I will burn you and this godforsaken city to the ground!”
Eleanor stopped and crouched in an alleyway attempting to get her breath under control.
“It's your choice, Ellie. You or all these people? Quite a simple choice really.”
Eleanor ground her teeth hard enough to make her jaw pop and clenched her fists.
I'm sorry, she'd thought to the people around her, I can't do that.
“You're a monster, Ellie. Always played the heroine didn't you but now you don't have the courage to face me and save these people. So be it!”
Eleanor didn't see but heard the great rush of wind as Isabelle called the surrounding air to her, compressing it, agitating it, making it hot. Then with a cry of fierce anger she launched the now raging fireball at a street close to Eleanor's position. Eleanor saw the fireball impact and the resulting concussion of the explosion blew her down the alley onto her back. Dazed and with ringing ears she'd struggled to her feet as screams began to rise in the night. Leaning against the wall she saw people dashing about calling for the local church bells to be rung to summon people to help with the fire.
Eleanor strode cautiously to the entrance of the alley and took a chance by peering out. Isabelle was there. A figure of contained rage as humanity swarmed around her to save their homes and businesses from the fire she'd purposely started. Eleanor ducked back in the alley and swallowed any anger she was currently feeling. She couldn't take Isabelle on now, Cole was waiting for her to return with Malachite. She turned and walked briskly away.
People flooded and swarmed the already congested streets, alleys and paths of London but luck still seemed to be with Eleanor, if not the inhabitants of the city, as she managed to lose Isabelle in the resulting catastrophe. She had made her way north slowly with the fire now chasing her rather than Isabelle. Passing one house she saw a woman pleading with her husband to leave their home with her and their young daughter. Eleanor paused as guilt caused her heart to palpitate. She couldn't just pass by, surrendering to Isabelle was out of the question, but Eleanor still bore the responsibility of what was happening to London. She barged through the crowd to the crying woman. The young girl had shown Eleanor such a look of desperation that she pushed her way into the house and grabbed the stubborn husband.
“You have about five minutes and the flames will be here.” She told him, his eyes, though fearful still remained stubborn but she felt his body relax, allowing her to move him to the door. Eleanor shoved him out and turned him to face the wall of fire descending on this part of the city. The man whimpered and Eleanor whispered in his ear. “Do you want your daughter to die that way?” Any inkling of rebellion left the man and he started moving his family along with Eleanor in tow. The rest of the night was spent in continual fear as they were forever trying to keep ahead of the flame. The little girl collapsed in exhaustion and Eleanor carried her until they were relatively safe. Immersed with the refugees seeking escape and rest they found sanctuary of a sort in one of the parks. During that day she witnessed the devastating effects the fire had and would cause in the days to come. People were starving, some dying of exposure or smoke inhalation. Eleanor found a place to rest with the small family who were glad of the extra body heat during the night and sobbed herself to sleep.
The fire was still raging as she continued to make her way north alone to seek a location Malachite could come for her. The little girl had cried when she left and the guilt Eleanor now felt was nearly overwhelming her into inactivity. But she remembered Cole and Malachite and turned away from the terrified family. Panic still flooded the streets. City dwellers told her stories as she passed them by of foreigners setting the city alight and to keep her eyes open. Eleanor moved on, unseeing and unhearing, her clothing dirty and singed away in a number of places and body filthy from the mud she'd slept in and the ash choking the air.
By the time she felt safe enough to call Malachite the main fire had been dealt with but the damage was done and Eleanor tried to imagine if Isabelle felt the burden of responsibility for the destruction as she did.
Malachite? She called sadly.
Nearly there. Are you okay?
No. No I'm not. Eleanor replied.
Dreams
The villagers would pay for their ignorance and their sin, she would see to that. All of them were huddled, terrified in the centre of the place they called home. When she was done there would be no home for the likes of these.
She lifted her hand towards the sky and dark clouds began to twist and coil into serpentine beings. They snatched down at the villagers making them scream and run into each other as they sought escape. There was no escape. With a sharp intake of breath she blew fire into the clouds that obeyed her every command and orange, deadly fire twisted its way into the sky, setting the heavens alight.
Rain composed from fire fell from the sky. At first the terrified people ran for their small homes but once they saw every roof catch alight they knew there was no solace and tried desperately and in vain to protect themselves from the fire above.
“Ignorance is not a just defence!” She cried into the fire and she curled her hands causing the fiery rain that had fallen to rise and swirl around the villagers, containing them all in one place. “Your punishment is death!”
Her fingers transformed into talons and she slowly balled them into fists, the fire responding by closing in on the doomed villagers.
“No!” A mighty shout was heard above the fire and rain and she felt a wall of air punch its way to the ground. It doused the flames and set the clouds to their natural state. She backed away in fear when she saw a huge, dark shape set down beyond the village. It's the demon, she thought. It moved swiftly towards her, its great weight causing the ground to tremble under each impact of a clawed foot. She muttered words to protect herself but her voice had been stripped from her, she was defenceless! With a silent scream of horror she turned and attempted to flee this most foul of beasts but a large paw wrapped itself tight around her body and squeezed. She was lifted backwards until she sensed she was close to the demon. Tears ran down her cheeks as the demon whispered in her ear.
&nbs
p; “You will burn, witch.”
The fire rose higher and higher and she screamed in silence once again. The demon had instructed the villagers to build a pyre and lash her to it. Then the demon's dark creature breathed fire onto the massive stack of wood. Her feet started to burn and her dress caught light. The fire moved swiftly to consume her. The pain was overwhelming. Air was snatched away from her lungs to be replaced with acid. Her skin began to crisp and the tissue bubble and she felt the world drifting away. Her head lolled forwards and blackness took her.
“Witch! Witch!” Her head jerked upwards and she saw she was unhurt. There was no fire! “And again?” She heard the demon's voice ask her. She wept as the demon mounted the pyre and grabbed her face with a gloved hand. “I asked you, witch. Shall we do this again and again?” The demon smiled.
“Please, Ellie. Please don't.”
Ellie continued to smile and signalled Cole to light the pyre.
Isabelle screamed.
*
Isabelle woke from the nightmare gasping for breath. She fumbled with the desk lamp, her fingers clumsy and almost knocking it off the small desk. She managed to grab it and clicked the light on. Her office was dark save for the small pool of light cast by the lamp and she saw no threat in the room or following her out of her dream.
She'd been reviewing the events of the previous day in detail and how best to proceed now Eleanor, as she now called herself, along with the orb, were actually being held in custody within the Institute. Early this morning Isabelle felt almost whole. She had watched Eleanor infiltrate her company years ago but was curious as to what her old friend, now enemy, was up to. Isabelle thought back nearly four hundred years to when she'd last encountered Eleanor in London. The result had entered the history books but Isabelle felt no guilt then, and now, merely frustration. She didn't know if Eleanor had survived the great fire but over the years her frustration had grown into an icy coolness, so when Eleanor had re-emerged into Isabelle's range she decided to stay back in the shadows and simply observe for now. When she learned Eleanor's plan was to place Cole in hibernation at the Institute Isabelle decided to leave well enough alone. She was responsible for Cole's injuries. Even though he was attempting to protect the people who'd murdered her mother she knew him well enough that he only sought to help. As for Eleanor, that was another matter and a confusing one. Her adversary's attempt to save people from persecution was a failure in Isabelle's eyes. A failure that ultimately led to the death of Arianne, Isabelle's mother, and that was unforgivable. Then of course Eleanor was also responsible for the fire of 1666. If she'd surrendered to Isabelle then it would never have occurred. Isabelle took everything that Eleanor had made into Baiulus, and made it her own and made it a success in her eyes.
In the years since, Isabelle had grown Baiulus into a global company parading the mask of a defence contractor to governments while sifting their officials for information and setting up a regional Institute that on the surface operated like any other government contractor but secretly searched out talented people. It was one lesson Isabelle had learned from Eleanor and followed still. Move with the times. To her employees with appropriate security clearance, Baiulus' agenda was to capture and contain all that exhibited magical abilities while Isabelle's true agenda had never changed. She was doing this to protect those talented ones. The ones who would be persecuted by society at large.
There was a time when Isabelle considered reintegrating those under her protection, when maybe the world could accept them. But mankind as it often did raised the stakes and decided to try and eliminate an entire race. Perversely the Second World War was the making of Baiulus. Isabelle saw the destructive power the Nazis wielded against those interred in the death camps, the persecution on a massive scale, and she set the Institute in league with the Allies. To defeat the evil of the swastika. The Institute became one of the stalwarts of armament supply and Isabelle took it forward from there.
In the following years she witnessed what her early years had shown her time and time again. The camps in Russia under Stalin. The reform in China under Chairman Mau. The Klu Klux Klan. Bosnia. Syria, Cambodia, Iraq and even New York. The list went on. It was clear to Isabelle that reintegration was never going to be achievable. All she could predict happening was the human race turning on the talented people as one. The continued harshness of the human race convinced Isabelle that the people she held wouldn't be equipped to deal which such hate and violence. So she would make sure they would.
There also existed the problem of the orb. Isabelle's contact with it had been limited. After she had taken it away from Eleanor the orb had refused to communicate with her. Isabelle had attempted many times over the centuries without success, even resorting to a use of magical force that had placed Isabelle in a coma for two months when the spells were turned against her by the orb. So she had abandoned it and locked the orb away, to remove the possibility of Eleanor reacquiring it. Then her experiment had stolen the orb. The brainwashing trial Isabelle started as a way to use the talented people against those that would hate them was shown to be a resounding success, with subject 1138 believing the Institute were the enemy and that she was Isabelle. The unfortunate outcome was the theft of the orb by 1138.
Using her own magical abilities 1138 had shielded the orb from the Institute and it was with amazement that bordered on incredulity that Isabelle witnessed a younger Ellie, an Ellie of this time, with the orb in her village during Sloan's operation. To then have Eleanor, the Ellie Isabelle knew walk into the Institute with the orb was astounding. But it did explain the dream. Her feelings of contentment, of having her enemy in her grasp and the orb again, was Isabelle's ego speaking. Her nightmare was a just reminder that the woman her company had in detention was extremely intelligent and dangerous.
Isabelle twisted a single, long white hair from her scalp and pulled. She stared at it for a few moments before uncurling the strand. The temptation to use it to perform deadly magic against her foe was overwhelming. It was a feeling that had occurred nearly every day that Eleanor worked for Baiulus.
“Not yet.” Isabelle whispered. There was still so much to do. She rubbed her fingers and the single strand of hair fell lazily to the floor. Isabelle absentmindedly scratched her head noting with dismay that she no longer felt any hair growth on the side of her head.
Isabelle lifted a communication device and inserted it into her ear and placed a call from her phone. She waited patiently for an answer.
“You're my eyes on the ground now.” Was all Isabelle said before disconnecting. She leaned back in her chair and started to think of the day ahead. For now she would simply observe. To Isabelle it was obvious what Eleanor's end game was, she wished to heal her dragon. But Isabelle knew Eleanor only too well and it paid to sit tight and watch things develop. She leaned back in her chair and switched on multiple video screens on the wall opposite. Cameras installed throughout the building gave her a grand view of operations. Isabelle tapped her long, thin fingers on her desk, it might prove to be an interesting day if events went as she planned.
More Dreams
“Ellie! Come on!” Rox called to her young friend. “We must hurry!” Rox dashed off into the warren and into the darkness beyond. Ellie raced forwards to follow. The dark tunnels of the rabbit's home smelt of fear but were empty of their inhabitants.
“Rox!” Ellie yelled as she bounded onwards on her four rabbit legs. “Where are you?” Her voice echoed on and on, pitching lower and lower until it became a guttural growl behind her. She yelped and dashed forward, further into the black. “Rox!” She sobbed. “Help me! I'm lost.” Her cry ended with a whimper.
A bell tolled to her right and she whipped her head around to see a massive hole in the roof of the house.
“What the hell did that?” Dad exclaimed, pointing at the roof and looking at his daughter.
“Uh. It was a witch.” Ellie replied. “We thought it was Isabelle but it isn't.” Dad laughed at her answer and squeezed
his fists until Ellie saw blood running through his fingers.
“Then where is she?” Dad's voice had changed. It pitched higher becoming a woman's voice. He rubbed his hands on his face and the features Ellie knew so well dissolved into the old woman's face. The eyes blood red. Ellie backed away quickly until she bumped into an obstacle. She jumped and turned quickly to face this new threat but it was the older version of herself.
“Careful, young one.” Older Ellie told her with a dismissive glance. “And be quiet, we're waiting.” Ellie looked around and saw the vast number of liquid filled tubes the Institute housed in their White Rooms. Most of the tubes were already occupied by men, women and children. Their faces held permanent and unyielding expressions of horror as they floated weightlessly for eternity. Ellie swallowed nervously.
“Who are we waiting for?” Ellie whispered. Her older self frowned at the interruption and was about to remonstrate Ellie when she smiled and cocked her head.
“Why you of course, Ellie. We can't have you running around pretending to be me now can we?”
Strong hands grabbed Ellie's shoulders and lifted her high into the air. Her captor walked with ease under her weight and though she struggled the vice like grip did not waver.
“It's for the best, Ellie. Really, it is. You understand that don't you?” Ellie was lifted higher and she saw the opening of an empty tube underneath her.
“No! Please don't!” She pleaded but her voice fell upon deaf ears and she was hoisted into the glass tube to land with a bone jarring thump at the bottom.
A loud grating noise made Ellie look up and she witnessed her glass cell being closed as a large circular metal frame was levered into place. When the grating noise had stopped she became aware of a strange hissing noise and suddenly realised the blue liquid was chest height. Ellie thrashed and bucked uselessly against the glass. The liquid rose and Ellie felt the intense cold beating at her bones, causing as much pain as a physical beating. Her head bumped against the metal bars of the frame as she was lifted by the rising blue liquid. Complete panic set in and Ellie began to scream and thrash against the frame and the glass. She was so cold she knew she couldn't fight for long. The liquid reached her mouth and rapidly covered her entire face. Ellie stopped fighting and drifted lazily back to the bottom of the glass tube.