by Luke Scull
Eremul glanced around, feeling simultaneously embarrassed and a little self-satisfied. I am the only man present, human or fehd, who is not expected to kowtow to this prince.
‘Saverian,’ greeted Prince Obrahim, in a voice just as ancient and just as utterly assured as his brother’s. ‘I crossed the ocean immediately when I heard the news. Seven of our kin have been lost to us, including your own betrothed. We will mourn each of them for a decade. You may all rise now.’
General Saverian rose and sheathed his sword and a moment later the two brothers embraced. ‘The gods-forged construct that attacked our kin in the Demonfire Hills has been Reckoned,’ said the white-haired commander. ‘The gholam is destroyed.’
Prince Obrahim nodded gravely. ‘I understand it was kin to the gorgon and the gargantuan. You warned me about them, brother. That they could threaten even us were they ever to be unleashed against our kind. I should have intervened when the gods first thought to release them upon this continent.’
‘Yet more confirmation that this crusade is necessary,’ Saverian grated. ‘Humanity should never have been permitted to flourish unsupervised. Their wickedness cost us two of our kin. Now their recklessness has robbed us of a further seven.’
Eremul saw that Monique’s face had taken on a distant look, her eyes strangely vacant. He gave her arm a squeeze and she seemed to snap back to herself. Men and women from the Refuge were beginning to arrive on the outskirts of the plaza, curiosity getting the better of fear.
The prince frowned at the city folk making their uncertain way towards the Hook. ‘Tell me, brother. How goes the conquering of this place humans call the Trine?’
Saverian’s jaw clenched angrily. ‘We have yet to breach the magical barrier the White Lady has placed around her city. The Breaker of Worlds was to offer a solution.’
Prince Obrahim raised his sceptre and the diamond tip flared, so blindingly bright that Eremul had to look away. ‘We shall see if this barrier can withstand me,’ he pronounced. ‘Come, brother. I wish to familiarise myself with this land we abandoned two thousand years ago.’
The prince and the general left the Hook, the rest of the fehd slowly filtering out behind them, returning to their enclave in what was formerly Dorminia’s Noble Quarter.
Eremul watched their departure. He waited for Isaac and Melissan to leave and then turned to Monique. ‘Are you well? You seem distant.’
Monique removed her reading lenses and tried to blow away the dust that coated them. When that failed, she attempted to use a sleeve, which did little save add to the grime. Like Eremul’s own robes, her clothes were thick with dirt. ‘I’m worried, beloved. I do not wish to die in this place. I travelled north from Tarbonne looking for a better life. All I have found here is misery.’
Eremul tried not to let the pain he felt show. You found me, he wanted to say. But he knew that wasn’t enough. He had been foolish to believe anything he could have offered her would ever have been enough.
No. There is something.
He took a deep breath. ‘I may be able to get you of the city,’ he said, watching Isaac’s departing form and remembering a ploy he had used to sneak him, the barbarian Brodar Kayne and the rest of his companions out of the harbour in similar circumstances. ‘It will be risky and exhaust what little power I have – but if I can save a single life, I wish it to be yours.’
Monique stared at Eremul for a moment, eyes wide. Then she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘You are a good man.’
‘I’m not sure about “good”,’ he replied drolly. ‘Or even “man”. But considering the paucity of compliments I receive, I’ll take what I can get.’
Monique giggled and even without her perfume, and smelling as ripe as everyone else in the Refuge, the Halfmage felt himself responding to the woman’s presence. He summoned his courage; steeled his nerves and decided to take the plunge. ‘I believe there is a washroom in the east part of the Refuge that offers some privacy. Perhaps it might be a good time to relieve ourselves of the city’s accumulated filth.’
Oh, shit, he thought. Oh, shit.
Monique appeared to hesitate for a moment. Then, ‘Thank you, but I want to go back and rest now. It is cold and I miss the comfort of walls around me.’
Shit.
‘Of course,’ he replied with a bright and utterly fake smile. ‘Why, I, too, cannot get enough of Ricker and Mard.’
Ruins
✥
‘COLE. COLE! WAKE up. You’re falling off your saddle.’
His grey eyes fluttered open and Sasha stared at her friend in concern. He hadn’t been the same since he’d returned from the Shattered Realms. He hadn’t been the same since their ill-tempered parting months ago, in truth, but there was something else in his face now, maybe shame, that she would occasionally glimpse when he let his guard down. It unsettled her. If there was one thing she could count on, it was Cole being Cole. He was her tether to the shores of normalcy in the bewildering storm of the last year.
‘I remember this place,’ Cole said. He righted himself on his horse and frowned at the glittering waters of Deadman’s Channel to their left. ‘This is where the Caress docked. I accidentally dropped Isaac’s lute into the water there.’
‘Accidentally? Come on, Cole, fess up. You were jealous of him.’
‘Jealous?’ Cole repeated, sounding offended. ‘I was the only one who suspected he was more than he let on! The Fade wouldn’t have captured Dorminia so easily if I’d been around.’
Sasha hid her smile. That sounded more like the Cole she knew. They were both silent as they passed the spot where he had tried to kiss her. She’d responded by slapping him across the face. She caught him glancing at her just then, mouth opening and closing as though there was something he wanted to say. Whatever it was, he decided to keep quiet.
‘Where’s Midnight?’ Sasha asked, for no better reason than to break the awkward silence. Against all probability Cole had returned from Tarbonne with a small kitten under his care. Apparently an assassin had attacked Cole aboard the Caress and he’d barely escaped with his life. The same couldn’t be said for Cole’s friend, Ed, who had rescued the cat in the first place. Sasha had been sad to learn of the man’s murder; she remembered his surprisingly gentle hands carrying her away from the wreckage of the fallen house on the day the White Lady and Thanates had half torn the city apart.
‘Midnight’s with a friend,’ he replied absently.
‘It’s not your fault, you know,’ she said.
‘What isn’t?’ Cole fired back, too sharply.
‘Ed’s death.’
‘Oh.’ The tone of his voice suggested that wasn’t what had been on his mind, though now he looked even morose than he had before.
Sasha heaved a sigh and focused on the final stretch of their ride up from Thelassa. It was a pleasant morning. Though the land was unusually barren – a consequence of the nearby Fade ruins – there were still a few flowers eager to open their faces to the early spring sun.
Several weeks had passed since the incident north of Dorminia and the worst of the winter was thankfully over. Sasha knew better than to expect the changing of the seasons to herald a change of fortunes: whatever setback the Fade had suffered had only delayed their assault on Thelassa. Still, it had given the White Lady a little breathing room, some time to explore other ways in which she might be able to save her city. That was why Sasha, Cole and a handful of the Consult were riding north towards the ruins Brianna had first visited back in the summer. Perhaps they would find something that would prove useful against the Ancients, or at least shed light on their strange weapons and abilities.
Anything is better than sitting in the palace listening to the White Lady and Thanates argue.
The two wizards fought like cat and dog. Surprisingly, their bickering had yet to descend into another bout of spell-slinging. Sasha did her best to keep the pair from each other’s throats. The rest of the time
she spent lying on her bed, shaking like a leaf in the wind, drenched in sweat. Fergus was no longer forthcoming with the silver powder she craved and getting her hands on more had so far proved difficult. The haskha withdrawals struck without warning and often left her feeling suicidal. Occasionally, such as when she saw the face of the man drawing level with her and Cole just then, it left her feeling downright murderous.
‘A clement day for a little exploration,’ Fergus said, a small smile fixed to his thin lips as he looked from Sasha to Cole. Her friend hadn’t talked about what had happened in Tarbonne, except to say that his mission was a failure. Fergus knew the truth: as a senior member of the Consult he’d been present when Cole had made his report to the White Lady shortly after arriving back in Thelassa. It bothered Sasha that Fergus was privy to information Cole refused to discuss with her. Bothered her more than she could say.
‘The ruins are vast,’ Fergus continued. ‘The Mistress has sent expeditionary forces on two occasions in the past, but they uncovered nothing of value. Let us hope today proves more fruitful.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Cole replied. ‘If there’s anything worth discovering, we’ll find it.’ He looked the perfect picture of health now, the white in his hair all but gone and the colour restored to his cheeks. Sasha wanted to ask about the change in his physical appearance, but something stopped her. Perhaps she feared the answer.
I feel him inside me, Sash. Hungering. Eager for me to kill. I’m not sure I can control it. I’m scared. Cole’s words to her back in the palace, before his ill-fated journey south.
‘He seems nice enough. A bit distant, maybe.’
Sasha cast a disbelieving look from Cole to Fergus, who had returned to his position behind them. ‘Him? Trust me, he is not a nice man.’
‘He offered to help you while I was away, didn’t he? You turned him down. At least that’s what he said.’ Cole frowned at his hands.
That fucker. ‘What else did he tell you?’
‘He offered some advice, that’s all.’
Sasha leaned over her mare and spat. ‘Don’t listen to him,’ she said.
A few minutes later they came within sight of the ruins. Such was their immensity that the shadows they cast seemed to swallow them up. The structures were alien in appearance, all harsh lines and winding bridges that connected a hundred feet above the ground. One building had collapsed entirely and another was missing most of its north-facing side. It was a miracle it still stood.
‘Let us split up and spread out,’ announced Fergus. ‘Note anything of interest. We will assemble here at noon and decide how to proceed from there.’
Sasha was about to accompany Cole to the northernmost building when Fergus placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to shudder involuntarily. ‘There is no need for the two of you to explore the same section of ruins. There is a great deal of ground to cover. Perhaps you could start with the westernmost building.’
Sasha opened her mouth to protest, to tell him to go fuck himself, but Cole unexpectedly spoke up. ‘I could use the time alone to think.’
He had that distracted look again. Even so, Sasha couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. ‘Go careful,’ she said, flicking her long brown hair out of her face.
Damn. I could use a hit.
She watched him walk away. Then, shielding her eyes from the sun, Sasha headed towards the most westerly of the ruins, wondering what surprises lay in store.
*
The lower levels of the massive building were a warren of corridors, many of which had long since collapsed. The holes in the crumbling walls let in enough sunlight for Sasha to see by, and as she moved through the strange architecture she picked her way around piles of rubble that hadn’t been disturbed in hundreds of years. The remnants of strange artefacts littered the smooth floor, many of them utterly foreign to Sasha’s understanding, or so rotted with age their original purpose was impossible to comprehend. She picked up a rectangular piece of glass attached to a hard, smooth substance nearly as thin as parchment and turned it over in her hands. She couldn’t imagine what use it could possibly have and flung it away. It hit the wall and fell apart, and she glimpsed the silvery sheen of metal within.
There were other objects constructed of the black shiny substance, most incorporating glass in some way. Many had tiny knobs that might have been used to operate the relics, but none of them responded to Sasha’s pushing and prodding.
In one room that might have been a study, she spotted a strange sphere resting atop the decayed remains of an ancient desk. She leaned down to blow off the dust and saw that it was blue and green in colour, the former overlaid with several large splashes of the latter. As Sasha examined the object closer, she saw that the green splashes were further divided into smaller segments, all overwritten by the incomprehensible Fade script.
‘Alemania,’ said Fergus from behind her. Sasha jerked in surprise and spun around to find the self-proclaimed ‘man of progress’ peering over her shoulder. The rest of the Consult were waiting just behind him, blocking the doorway. ‘I learned a little of the Fade script,’ Fergus explained. ‘The language has been lost for centuries. Lost, that is to say, save for the Mistress and one or two of her peers. It is incredibly difficult to learn, but I have never shied away from a challenge.’ Fergus took the sphere from Sasha’s unresisting hands. ‘This is a reproduction,’ he said. ‘Still, it must be close to two thousand years old. Remarkable.’
Sasha stared beyond Fergus to the men and women lurking nearby. They were dressed in the white of the Consult, but she noticed that several were also wearing gloves. She spotted the glint of metal implements on the belt of one of them. Another had a sack and a length of rope dangling ominously in his hands. ‘What’s going on?’ she said, a terrible suspicion beginning to take hold. ‘What are you doing here?’
Fergus smiled his lizard’s smile. ‘I fear I wasn’t entirely honest with you earlier. We did in fact make a rather interesting discovery the last time we explored these ruins. An entire laboratory located beneath this building. It was there I began to formulate the process for the creation of the Unborn. But further investigation yielded much more than that. The Fade built these constructs to house their thralls, though that wasn’t clear at the time. What was clear was that they had mastered a form of physical modification that could yield results similar to the enhanced abilities displayed by the Unborn, without the undesirable side effects.’
Sasha felt a sudden pricking sensation in her leg and gasped in shock. Fergus quickly withdrew his hand and she was horrified to see that he grasped a needle between his fingers, the end wet with her blood. ‘What did you do? What the fuck is on that needle?’
‘A sedative,’ Fergus explained. ‘A strong one, in recognition of the remarkable resistance you have likely built up over your years of substance abuse. The very same resistance makes you the perfect subject for my experiment.’
‘Does the White Lady know?’ Sasha tried to ask, her words slurring. Her body felt heavy all of a sudden.
‘The Mistress approved of my past experiments,’ Fergus replied. ‘For reasons beyond my understanding, she would not countenance any harm to come to you. Rest assured she will never learn of your fate. My assistants have been selected for their discretion. They too are men and women of progress. The trouble with Magelords is that, by their very nature, they represent the past.’
Fergus’s words seemed to drift to her from a long, long way away – and then they were gone...
*
‘Pass me the scalpel.’
Sasha drifted awake and stared up at the sun – or at least at an object so bright it seemed like the sun. As awareness began to return, she realized it wasn’t the sun but rather a glass tube on the ceiling above, emitting enough light to make her eyes water.
She blinked, and then coughed. A narrow face slithered into her field of vision and Fergus stared down at her with bright eyes. There was something dark flecking his cheek. Blood.
‘Mos
t interesting. The sedative wore off even faster than I had imagined! This bodes well for the augmentation. Very well indeed.’
Sasha tried to move her body but it felt strange, as though it no longer belonged to her. She opened her mouth to scream – but it was already open, and no sound emerged except a soft gasp.
She heard a snip snip and utter terror seized her. She couldn’t move but she could tremble, every muscle contracting wildly. She tried to inhale, but the breath refused to enter her lungs.
‘She’s having a seizure,’ came the voice of a woman. One of Fergus’s assistants.
‘More sedative,’ he ordered. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear as the needle entered her arm. ‘You are unlikely to survive for long after I complete the procedure. Know that your death will further our cause in more ways than one. It is my hope that your fate will be the catalyst for your young man to finally embrace his destiny. He will become the weapon we need.’
Cole. Somehow she plucked the name from the tumbling pieces of her consciousness as it once more plummeted towards oblivion.
Help me.
Death’s Embrace
✥
DAVARUS COLE TRUDGED through the northernmost of the Fade edifices, not paying a great deal of attention to the crumbling antiquity surrounding him. History had never much interested Cole. The future was where his mind wandered now, in particular his future with the brown-haired girl he had loved since he had set eyes upon her as a boy of eight winters, being led into Garrett’s estate for the very first time.
He knew he had to tell Sasha how he really felt about her. But before he did, he would need to tell her what had happened down in Tarbonne. Tell her the truth about the monster he had become.
And that, he was certain, would end whatever they had.
I’d rather live the truth than a lie.
Fergus had told him that the truth could set you free. That he should embrace what he was, instead of rejecting it. The more he thought about it, the more Cole realized the man had a point. He’d lived a lie for thirteen years. Believed himself the son of a legendary hero when he was merely the spawn of a vicious killer and a street whore. The dagger at his belt had taken more lives than the great plague that had ravaged Dorminia years ago, but it was all he had. Magebane defined him. Without it he was worthless.