Zero Sum

by B. Justin Shier

  Three cheers for modern weaponry.

  I walked over to claim my trophy, but as the smoke cleared I froze. Sadie had vanished.

  “Conflagerous!” she screamed form my right.

  A red flash splashed across my Sight. I had enough time prepare a hasty extraction, but Sadie’s cast was a broad one. We had trained together for months. Sadie knew my style. She had anticipated that I would attempt to extract the mana from her cast. A wide-angle spell made that near impossible. The intense heat singed my brows, but my head somehow found the hood of my robe.

  My robe took the brunt of it, but I still wasn’t out of the woods. I sidestepped left and dove behind a concrete bench. My feet felt like molasses. I looked down to discover my boots were ruined. Sadie’s cast had melted them down to nubs. I checked the rest of my body. I was singed but fine. Only one thing was weird—my robe was glowing crimson.

  “Nice dodge, Dieter,” Sadie shouted. “Now how about I show you how one of these actually works?”

  I glanced over the bench. There was a ruby red pendant around Sadie’s neck.

  “Wonderful,” I grumbled. I was facing an upper-tier mage with an ACT device.

  With unnerving speed, Sadie spun the air around her into the palm of her hand. I braced myself. A plasma stream would bore through the concrete bench in seconds. I had always wanted to play with the stuff when I got to college—but this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

  “Oi, Dieter,” Jules shouted. “I do recall tellin’ ya not to go off and die tonight—and here I was gonna give ya an A for your gatework.”

  Jules kicked some rubble out of her way as she emerged from the wreckage of the gift shop. She was covered head to toe in bruises, burns, and scratches. Half her robe was cooked off. On top of it all was a dried matting of blood. There was too much of it to be her own. Her glasses were gone, and her blond curls flapped this way and that in the wind. Her flaming green eyes shot daggers at Sadie.

  “Ichi is dyin’ because of your treachery, ya clatty bitch. Time ta pay the piper. Get a move on, apprentice. You’ve other matters ta attend.” She walked right past me, dragging a thin brown reed behind her. “I’ll be managin’ this embarrassment.”

  “You’re the embarrassment,” Sadie shot back. “Defending these pigs? They betrayed the likes of us long ago. Remember your history before you start throwing claims about.”

  “And what history would that be? The history where Catholics slaughtered me kin till we clung ta just a few rocks off in the coast—or the history where yer parents jumped ship when the times got rough?”

  Personally, I thought the Great Potato Famine was a great reason to emigrate from Ireland, but I didn’t think now was the time to raise that point. The energy rising between the two of them was sparking through the air like arc lightning.

  Sadie’s jaw tightened. “Obviously, we missed one too many of you treehumpers.” She stretched her brewing spell to its limit, yelled, “Solrak!” and unleashed a stream of fire from the sizzling ball of energy atop her palm.

  I yelled at Jules to dodge, but she was having none of it. She swept a long reed in a circle, trilling, “Pinus palustris!” as she went. The cast was some sort of barrier spell—but the sphere she conjured moved with her. My jaw dropped. A moving circle? I didn’t even understand how that was possible.

  Sadie’s beam of plasma rushed forth and smacked into Jules’ transparent defense. The entire sky flashed white, and the force of the blast knocked me back. I opened my eyes to find Sadie’s strike glancing off into space. The blast soared out across the night sky trailing a brilliant stream of light. Far below, the crowds gasped in awe at the amazing pyrotechnics.

  Dragging her thin reed behind her, Jules kept pressing forward.

  She never broke her focus. Never lost Sadie’s eyes.

  “Get a move on, Dieter. I’ll manage this wee cur. She needs a lesson in humility, dontcha think?”

  I was about to protest, when all across the valley, fireworks launched into evening sky. It was midnight. Carrera was about to start his cast. I was the only person not pinned down. I had to go.

  “The hell you will,” Sadie yelled. She clutched her pendant, called out, “Penetrus!” and catapulted a bolt of energy straight towards me. It was of the same style as the one Spinoza had used against Ichijo—and its speed was beyond what I could dodge.

  Jules slid between us. Whipping her reed in front of her, she trilled, “Piratinera!” The tremendous force of Sadie’s cast impacted her thin reed with a thwack. Like a batter connecting with a fastball, Jules rebounded the strike back at Sadie. The Penetrus returned twice as fast, catching Sadie square in the gut.

  “Stars above,” I muttered. Diverting a strike was hard enough—but actually reflecting a cast? I’d never seen it done.

  “Get a move on, Dieter,” Jules said, closing in on Sadie.

  I smirked. “You’re the boss.”

  Jules was coping rather well. I turned and ran for the stairs.

  Chapter 20

  STRATOFEAR

  Rushing across the observation deck, I found Sadie’s parents still locked in battle with Collins and Masterson. Masterson had received a deep gash across his face, but Glory Thompson was guarding her arm. Both pairs circled one another warily. The colorful opening volleys had ended. Unable to replenish their mana, they had to be cautious now. That was probably just peachy for the Thompsons. They only needed to buy time for Carrera to finish his cast. Spinoza and my father had managed to scatter the eight remaining Talmax mages. A number of them were lying dead or wounded. Sheila and Roster held the same position as before. They had dropped three trolls, but were pinned down by rifle fire. Monique and Dante were covering the other flank. It looked like the four of them would be able to hold out, but they were pinned down for the time being. Jules was right—I was the only one who could get to the stairs.

  I sprinted across the open ground, dodging the occasional spell. The stairs were made of grated metal and girders. That meant they were exposed on all sides. Carrera had shown himself to be a cautious man. I knew there was no way I could climb up them unchallenged—but every second I wasted drew us all closer to oblivion. I took a deep breath. I could sense Rei was close, but I couldn’t pick her out. My Sight open, I broke into an open sprint—and boy was I glad I did. Halfway to the top, my Sight filled with a rush of light. It was Hans. He was dropping from above, intent on collapsing my spinal column with his heel. Using my momentum, I lunged forward out of the way. Hans came crashing down behind me. The metal groaned and gave way. He didn’t dally—and, wow, was he quick. His second caught me square on the cheek.

  I went headfirst into the wall. Dazed, I could only watch as he lunged at me again—but another blur stopped him. Rei had tackled him. The two of them grappled, flinging punches faster than I could see. Then Rei caught both his feet with a sweep, and the two tumbled down to the base of the stairs. I shook my head clear. Their whole exchange had lasted mere seconds.

  “Go!” Rei ordered. She stabbed deep into Hans’ shoulder with a razor sharp combat knife. The blond Nostophoros roared as Rei twisted the blade up and out. “There’s no time, Dieter. You must stop the cast!” She bashed Hans’ temple with the hilt of the blade, flipped it, and drove the blade deep into his other armpit.

  Adrenaline surging, I hesitated. I wanted to help Rei.

  Fireworks crackled above us.

  I shook my head clear. We didn’t have anymore time. Rei would have to handle Hans on her own.

  I turned and ran.

  Overhead, bright green and red sparkles shimmered in the air. The strange hues of light added a carnival flair to the battle raging around me. Gasping from the effort, I reached the summit and swept the space. Carrera was nowhere to be found. At the center of the intricate magical array sat six of Elliot’s freshman class. They were chained into the drop tower ride that launched you up and down the tower’s obelisk. One of the Elliot initiates spotted me.

  “Hey!” he shouted
. “This is like so not cool. Get us down, man!”

  “I hear you,” I shouted back. “Just hold tight.”

  I took a careful look at the heavily modified ride. The old amusement park standard had been converted into a device that resembled a giant magnetic coil. The initiates could be raised up and down the length of the obelisk while being spun around in circles. Ugh. All that spinning. The thought of it made me want to vomit.

  The male initiate looked to be the only one still conscious. His dirty blond hair was unkempt, and he was nothing but skin and bones. My jaw tightened. They were starving them…

  “Where’s the big man?” I asked.

  “Carrera? He set up the array and left.” The initiate looked around nervously. “I don’t think he wanted to be here when this thing went off.”

  “Neither do I,” I muttered. Maybe it was only safe to activate such a dangerous spell from a distance. I bit my lip. If Jules’ theory was correct, Carrera needed the initiates to start the reaping. They were the primer for the reaction. If I could remove the initiates from the equation, we would be off to the nearest pub to compare war stories. All I had to do was jam up the ride’s gears. I could figure out how to get the initiates out of the ride later.

  I swept the space with my Sight once more. The coast was clear.

  I took a deep breath and charged to the rescue.

  My ears popped halfway.

  A spell?

  Shocked, I looked at the initiate.

  The boy slumped in his seat. And the initiate next to him…a layer of duct tape covered her mouth. Her strained expression told me all I needed to know. A wipe. The boy had been used as a lure. Carrera applauded as he walked out from under his shroud.

  Shitsticks.

  “A fine performance, young man—but I’m afraid I must put your gallantry to an end.”

  Outmaneuvered, exposed, and devoid of mana, all I could do was glare back at him.

  Diego Carrera walked over to the ride’s control console and pressed a button. With a creak, the ride began ascending into the air. The one girl still conscious stared down at me, her light brown hair flapping in the breeze. The wipe must have failed on her. She looked at me like I was her last hope—and I’d seen those eyes before. I did the only thing I could think of. I charged.

  Carrera flicked his hand. My feet locked in place.

  A binding spell—it was exactly like the crap Jules loved to pull.

  I went to counter but no mana came to my aid.

  Carrera gestured to the perimeter. “Young man, you are in my circle. As soon as you crossed that threshold, my craft became dominant. Still, I must again commend your efforts. It is most impressive that you have made it this far. To have outwitted one so aged as the Duchess of Peoria…” He chuckled. “Quite the achievement. But I digress. Please, young man, stand with me awhile and listen. I have a proposition to make.”

  The short tyrant looked untouched by the battle raging around us. His tuxedo was still well pressed. His hair, impeccable. And though his face was creased with wrinkles, his eyes still burned proud and bright. Over two hundred years of experience, and a body still fit enough to use it. And me? I was—yet again—totally fucked.

  I balled my fists. “Bite me, Carrera.” I should have checked the perimeter more closely. How many lives had my sloppiness cost? “Just get this shit over with.”

  Carrera chuckled. “It is rare to see such machismo from one of your generation. Too much TV. Too much mothering. But stay your blade, young man. I’m about to offer you exactly what you want.”

  I shifted in my shoes, uncertain how to react. A conversation could buy time—and maybe someone else could use it—but Carrera was a mind mage. Could I win out if he tried to compel me? I took a moment to examine the circle. The perimeter threshold shot straight up into the sky. My Sight couldn’t penetrate it. All light and energy reflected back off its walls like foil. Almost like we were dislocated from the rest of the world. Almost like…

  My heart sank. We were inside a frameshift. The craft was like the one Sadie had employed to trap the faculty. We were locked off from the world. There would be no aid. No backup. Everything inside this circle was staying put. Everything outside was staying out. Carrera could deal with me at his leisure.

  I sagged. On top of everything else, the secrecy, the diversionary attack on Salt Lake, the intense security, and the lockdown of the top floor. Carrera had planned for even this contingency. The shift would last well beyond midnight, and inside this circle—his circle—any magic I conjured would be of little use. We had been bested, utterly bested.

  So why was Carrera bothering with me? Carrera had waited decades for this moment. Why was he dallying?

  I bit my lip. He’d captured my interest all right. “You’re gonna give me exactly what I want? You’re going to cancel the reaping, let my people go, and head back to Margaritaville?” I shook my head. “Unlikely.”

  “Actually, young man,”—he raised his arms wide—“that is precisely what I am offering. My desires are simple. I wish to restore the Great Western Flow, return to Mexico that which was taken from her, and—at long last—honor my brother’s sacrifice. That is all. The rest is open to bargain.” He walked over to the obelisk and placed his hand on its smooth surface. “You are Dieter Resnick, son of Kurtz the Butcher?”

  The Butcher? Better than the Baker, I guess.

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “Young man, you misunderstand me. I do not covet bloodshed. I do not seek power for power’s sake. Nor will I lie to you. I need the teaming mass of humanity gathered below us on the desert’s floor—I need to spend their lives—but it was Fremont and Carson who set these events in motion, not I.”

  I rubbed my temples. “Here we go again…”

  “Just over two hundred years have passed since John Charles Fremont sacrificed thousands of Native American lives to shatter the Great Western Flow. In doing so, he broke one of our sacred Tenets. He interfered with the course of Imperiti history. His heinous crime ruined my nation—and his protégé, Kit Carson, stood by and did nothing. Magus Resnick, if not for Fremont’s deeds, we may very well have been countrymen under the same flag. All three nations of Northern America would have been equals. Canada, the United States, and Mexico would have been in balance with one another. In harmony.”

  Carrera stormed about as he talked.

  I wished my legs weren’t locked at the knees. It looked like this was gonna be a long one…

  “For twenty years, I fought our case in the courts of the International Council on Evocation. Their final ruling: no evidence, no crime…”

  “Been there,” I grumbled.

  “For eighty more years, I tried to heal my nation. But we’d lost our only major leyline. Every manner of foul beast—every last ghoul and goblin that haunts the dreams of Conscious children—came knocking on our doors. Vampires, Weres, and the worst dregs from the open frames swarmed in upon us like locusts.

  “For a time, our faith sustained us. For a time, our thresholds held. But the fiends made inroads in our country’s politics. They circumvented us and cut our funding. We could no longer afford mercenaries, and our pool of battlemages dwindled. They rooted us out of our hiding places. They consumed our children in their beds. All that remain of our young are battle-ravaged survivors. You know Sadie Thompson-Riley. Have you not used your auraception on her soul?”

  I flinched. That he knew I could auracept unnerved me.

  “Do you have siblings?”

  I shook my head.

  “Then it will be difficult for you to understand what it is like to watch your kin be eviscerated by a Were. I have looked into her mind, young man. The boy’s screams never stop ringing in her ears.”

  Carrera willed my eyes into his own. He forced me back into that cauldron of nastiness. That black burbling soup, I had mistaken it for grief over her parents. But it was worse than that. So much worse. Her little brother had died—died as she watched. Carrera repai
red the shards of her memories. Reassembled that moment in time. I felt the very heat of the blood as it rushed out of the boy’s body.

  The tears. The gasps. The pleading.

  I saw it all. I felt it all. I knew how Sadie’s mind broke. Tears flooded down my cheeks. Try as I might, my mind kept returning to that boiling cauldron of pain. Carrera had done something to me. He was forcing me to soak in her pain.

  And then—freedom. “You know what I have shown you is true.” The initiates had reached the peak of the obelisk while I’d lost myself. Carrera walked over to the control console and turned a knob. The chairs began to twirl in a slow but steady circle.

  “No, I only know that she’s suffering.” My answer sounded feeble to my ears. “And it doesn’t make this right.”

  “My dear young man…” Carrera’s eyes softened. “We play a zero-sum game, you and I. Mana is strength. Magi control a leyline or die. The Templars, the Druids, even your Massachusetts covens have learned this. As have I. Through the blood of my people I have learned this.”

  “And so you’ve decided to return the favor?” I shook my head. “That’s one hell of a lesson, Carrera.”

  “I’ve decided to balance the books!” he roared. “I’ve decided to act before action is meaningless!”

  “Through murder?” I sputtered. “How can you correct anything through murder? Why is everyone so dense on this? I’m no Bible thumper, Carrera, but that book got one point dead right: ‘Thou shall not kill.’ No matter how righteous and just your cause, if you run around killing people you’ll only generate new hatreds, new animosities, new”—I gestured to the initiates whirling around above us—“Sadies.”