by A R DeClerck
What Lies Beneath
“This is the place.” Archie jumped from the wagon before it had come to a full stop. He ran toward the body on the ground. “It’s the old man!”
Bastion pushed Archie aside and knelt over the man, whose chest was a mass of puckered flesh and blood. “He’s been shot.”
“Looks like a halogen pistol. Corrigan was here.” Grayson said.
Archie crossed his arms and watched as Bastion poured his magic over the old man, the aether coursing through the Apothecary’s hands and knitting the flesh back together. Sweat beaded on Bastion’s forehead as he concentrated, and Stella wiped it away with her kerchief.
“Will he live?” Archie demanded a few moments later when Bastion sat back on his heels with a sigh.
“Aye. He will live. He has powerful magic within him.”
Archie knelt next to the old man. “She was here? With Lucia and the Captain?”
“Ya.” Bessemer’s voice was weak, but his grip on Archie’s hand was strong. “They go for the convergence point.”
“We figured. Do you know what she plans? What is the machine’s use?”
“My grandmother, she told me a story. Caston Wicket, the old man’s brother, was a lunatic and an inventor. He wanted power, but was not a wizard by birth. He was devising a way to steal magic from others. He needed a conduit to power his machine, a force of magic so strong it could be used to focus the aether.”
“Machiavelli.” Archie cursed and looked at Bastion. “Take him inside and care for him. Grayson and I will go after Elizabeth.”
“You can’t go alone!”
“He won’t be alone.”
They all turned at the crunch of boots on the snow. Archie stood and called aether to his palm in a crackling ball of energy. “I have no patience for dark mages. You would have been smart to stay far from here.”
Atticus Dooley and Del Wicket stood together, the moonlight harsh on them. Del pushed back the hood of his cloak and looked at Grayson.
“Hello, Gray.”
“Del.”
“Enough niceties,” Dooley said in his gravelly voice. “The bitch’ll be nearin’ the convergence point in moments.”
“Leave,” Archie commanded. “While you still can.”
“We want her dead as much as you do.” Delbert looked at Grayson. “We can help you.”
“Why would we trust you?”
“She used us, like she used you all. Dooley to teach her blood magic, me for my land. She betrayed us all, but what she is about to do will unmake the world.”
“What do you know?” Grayson shook his head at Archie and Archie let the magical ball of aether dissolve in his palm.
“She had your brother tinker with the machine. She put the familiar inside. When she is at the convergence point and she turns it on she’ll use him as a funnel for the aether and she’ll let it all out. She plans to use the dark aether to power machines that will destroy the world unless they all bow to her will.”
“Rubbish. Machiavelli is a familiar, not a portal for the aether. The barrier between their world and ours will still exist.”
“At the convergence points there is a thinning between our world and theirs. With the blood spell Victor Kane planned to use, she’ll pierce through the barrier and let the aether spill out, corrupting it as it flows.”
He speaks truth.
The aether’s voice was loud inside Archie’s head, making him stumble in surprise as it spoke.
The blood of wizards can pierce the veil.
“Damn.” Archie closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them, everyone was staring expectantly in his direction. “The aether says you’re correct. The blood of wizards can pierce the veil.” He hurried to the wagon and then turned back to the others. “Well, what are we waiting for? We have to stop her.”
Bastion helped the old farmer to his feet, but he old man called to Grayson. “Come here, boy.”
Grayson stood in front of him and Bessemer squinted as he looked him over. “Like yer grandmammy ye are. Strong in old magick.” He picked up Grayson’s arm and pulled back his sleeve to look at the old brand. “Amplified by this, I gather. Don’t let her in yer head, boy. Be strong and ye can stop this.”
Grayson nodded and climbed into the wagon next to Archie as Dooley and Del jumped into the wagon bed.
“Stay safe and protect him,” Archie told Bastion and Stella. “I’ll bring your sister back safe.”
“You’d better, Grand Adept.” Stella took Bastion’s hand and raised her chin. “You had just better.”
Archie clicked the reigns and the horses took off over the snow. From beside him on the seat Grayson muttered low under his breath.
“What did you say?” Archie questioned.
Grayson’s face was pale as he looked into Archie’s eyes, but determination hardened his chin. “I said I’m done being manipulated. This has to end.”
“I know.” Archie urged the horses as fast as he dared over the rocky terrain. “But don’t count us out yet. Lucia is still alive, and so is Corrigan. I have faith that they will do what they can to stop her until we get there.”
Moonlight swam over the snow. Wind whipped around them, but there were no trees here to catch it, and the flakes of snow became a vortex. Elizabeth watched Corrigan lift the machine that had taken two men of a larger size to carry, and she directed him to place it directly in the light of the moon.
“It’s here. Can you feel it?” Elizabeth looked up at Lucia, her cheeks were whipped red with windburn, and her lips were broken and chapped.
“I can feel it.” It was the overwhelming weight of the aether in the air, a suffocating blanket of magical particles separated from their world by only a thin barrier of the aether’s making. Lucia’s lungs felt over burdened by the press of the aether, and her head swam. “There is a place in darkest London, where the Druids worked a spell like this long ago. It has never recovered.”
“Ah, but the Druids did not have me!” Elizabeth held out her hands to Lucia. “Climb down now, please.”
Lucia was careful to keep the stilted gait of the controlled, and she shivered as she stepped down into the snow, the wet flakes sliding into her slippers and melting against her stockinged feet. Elizabeth took her hand and led her to the edge of a circular lip of stone obscured by snow.
“Many years ago this was a place of worship. Offerings to the gods were made right here on these stones.” Elizabeth pushed away the snow to show the dark stains on the stones. “Sheep, cattle. First born sons.”
“They did not understand the purpose of the aether.”
“No!” Elizabeth agreed, “They did not! I do not believe that modern wizards understand its purpose either. We use the aether to power our homes and light our mines. Ship our goods. Lift heavy things. Protect ourselves.”
“What do you think the purpose is, then?”
“To imbue the strong with power. The power to rule. To guide. To subjugate the weak for the better of the world.”
“I believe Pavlov might call that narcissistic megalomania.”
“Pavlov’s an idiot.” Elizabeth’s grip on Lucia’s hand was cruel. “Aether is sentient. You said it yourself. It cannot want only to serve. It wants to rule.”
“And it tells you this?”
“Since I was a girl. I came here and the stones spoke to me. Opened my mind to everything I might do. To a world that was nothing like the horrible one I lived every day.” Elizabeth knelt and ran her hand lovingly over the stones. “It kept me from harming myself to escape.”
Lucia felt some measure of sympathy for the woman. She had endured something no child should ever have to live through, but Lucia herself had experienced something similar. She knew that Elizabeth’s reckless desire for power was a symptom of her more serious mental illness. Something in her mind had broken when someone she trusted betrayed her. “Destroying the world will not erase your pain.”
“No.” Elizabeth stood and the mask of h
aughty happiness returned to her face. “However, it will ensure that I can do as I please whenever I please. That will serve to make me quite happy, I assure you.” She snapped her fingers. “Captain! Please begin the process.”
Lucia’s hand moved before she could stop it, grabbing hold of Elizabeth’s arm and turning her around. Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed.
“How long?” she demanded.
“Just now.” Lucia tried to appear surprised. “I... I wanted to stop you.”
The machine began to chug and churn and a puff of smoke rose from the end. From inside the machine a wail rose, and a thin reedy voice called out.
“For the love of magic, let me out of here!”
“Machiavelli!” Lucia stepped toward the machine, but Elizabeth blocked her way. “What are you doing to him?”
“Using him, of course. He is a familiar, that is what they’re meant for. To be used.”
“He’s a living being. You can’t hurt him like this!”
“Pish! He will most likely survive. Familiars are conduits for the aether, pulling and directing it for their masters. It will only be a bit more than he’s used to.”
“Elizabeth—“
“Hush!” She turned on Lucia, the dark aether in her hand forcing Lucia’s lips closed. “I’ll leave you untethered but you must be quiet. This is delicate work.” She turned toward the captain. “Captain. Come guard my charge, would you?”
Corrigan moved to stand next to Lucia as instructed. Lucia looked up at him, and he was trying to control the tears that gathered in his eyes. With Elizabeth gone the dark aether had ceded control of her lips to her again.
“Please don’t worry Captain. We will figure this out. You must fight her control!”
His gaze was pleading, but she knew he could not say what he wanted to say.
Can you help me like you helped me? she asked the aether around them.
Termination would likely occur. This being is not equipped to handle the presence of aether.
Can you push out enough that he might fight the rest of his own will?
We will assist.
Lucia took Corrigan’s arm. “Be quiet if you can, Captain. The aether will begin to purge you of her control, but it will not be a pleasant thing.”
She knew the moment that the aether began its work. The captain’s body stiffened, a horrified look of pain glazing over his eyes. He was not in control and could not move or scream, but she saw the light burn out the dark aether as his face contorted in agony. He blinked against the tears as blood ran from his ear, and Lucia knew the aether was finished.
“Fight it now, Captain. Push it out. She is occupied and will not know. But you must hurry.”
Machiavelli’s screams broke the air around them. The machine’s delicate chug increased in pace as Elizabeth walked around it, chanting to the dark aether.
“We must stop her,” Lucia told Corrigan, and she was relieved to see the smallest nod. He was doing it! She looked about for a weapon but saw nothing that might incapacitate the woman. With the dark aether at her beck and call her strength would be tenfold its normal and they would have to rely on surprise to stop her.
Lucia looked up when Corrigan’s hand landed heavily on hers. His mouth worked as he fought to form the words.
“B...Bo,” he managed thickly.
Lucia pushed back his coat and saw the handle of his staff in the pocket under his arm. She removed it and smiled. “Thank you, Captain.”
She watched Elizabeth closely but it seemed the woman had all but forgotten them as she continued to work her spell. The kidnapped party guests lay on the stones, their heads positioned around the circular opening. Each was a wizard, Lucia knew, but the small girl in the northernmost position. Why had Elizabeth chosen a Romani girl?
The snick of the Bo was loud in the air as it opened to its full length. Lucia looked at Elizabeth but the hum of the machine and the sound of Machiavelli’s cries had drowned out the sound. Lucia pressed the button and the electricity hummed over the length of the staff. “This should do,” she told Corrigan. “Keep working to loose her hold on you. I need to shut down that infernal machine.”
Lucia walked as quietly as she could over the snow, placing each step carefully. Elizabeth mumbled the words to her spell and Lucia winced when she drew the blade of the butcher’s knife over her palm. She must have been carrying it in her skirts the whole time, Lucia thought. Now she was glad she hadn’t tried to physically challenge the woman before. When Lucia stepped onto the circular platform of stones she felt a jolt of energy run through her, so strong that the Bo shorted out and the electrical charge died in her hand.
Elizabeth turned as Lucia dropped the Bo to the ground. “I see you feel the effects of the convergence.”
“What is this?”
“This is true power. This is what that poor imitation of a dark mage, Edgar Baiandelio, tried to do all those years ago.” She raised her eyebrow at Lucia’s shock. “Oh yes, I know everything about your past. I know you killed him in Longmoore.” Elizabeth sidled closer. “Did it feel good to run him through?”
“Yes.” A wellspring of power thrummed inside Lucia’s body. Even with a tandem healing she’d never experienced that kind of energy funneling through her. It echoed inside her head, a million voices, crying out to her. “I hear them.”
“Yes. You hear them. They are crying out for us to help them.” Elizabeth stood next to Lucia, her palm dripping blood over the stones. “They want to be free.”
A vortex of magic was living inside Lucia’s body. It ran through the air from the machine, funneled up from the world of the aether by Machiavelli. Her skin was too tight, the voices too loud. Her heart pounded, her mind raw. She looked at Elizabeth and saw the same inside the other woman. “How do we help them?”
“We must release them.” Elizabeth put the handle of the knife in Lucia’s hand. How many times, Lucia wondered, had this same scenario played out? She the murderer, the blood on her hands. “Kill them.”
Lucia did not hear the wagon as it clattered to a stop. She held the knife in her hand and stood over the body of the young wizard in the yellow dress. She looked up at Elizabeth, a question burning in her mind. “Why the Romani girl?”
“Romani blood is ripe with magic, and this girl has plenty.”
“But why her? Why not me? Why not Archie? He is more powerful than us both.”
“He is dead, my dear.” Elizabeth crossed her arms. “I could not let him stand between us. He was too hard to control. Too unpredictable.”
Lucia looked down at the woman, whose long blonde hair trailed over the stones. She looked so peaceful, asleep in the snow. “Why must I kill them? Why not you?”
Elizabeth’s grip in Lucia’s hair was tight. She pulled, and Lucia gritted her teeth against the pain. “Their deaths will cause a backlash. When the portal opens the dark aether will crowd the first vessel they find. The most suitable vessel.”
“Me.”
“Yes. And while it is occupied in you, I will begin the spells required to control it.”
Elizabeth let her go, and Lucia’s head dropped. A decade ago she had stared at a similar face, held a similar knife. Edgar’s voice, in her head, encouraging her to kill for power. She had listened.
“Lucia!”
She raised her head, not believing what she heard. She turned to see Archie running toward her in the snow. She gasped, her heart stuttering in her chest. For a few moments, the aether went silent.
“No!” Elizabeth screeched. “You’re dead! You’re all dead!”
“I’m afraid not.” Archie slowed and stood just at the edge of the platform of stones. He held out his hand to Lucia. “Come to me, darling.”
“You can’t have her! She is mine. I need her!” Elizabeth pulled the knife from Lucia’s hand, holding it to her throat. Lucia saw Archie’s eyes go flat, and she knew that Elizabeth would die tonight. He had decided, just then, that she would not live to see the sun rise.
&nb
sp; “Let her go.” Grayson moved in front of Archie, drawing Elizabeth’s attention.
Lucia felt Elizabeth’s hand tremble and she knew that Grayson meant more to Elizabeth than she wanted to admit. He was more than a simple plaything.
“Gray—Grayson.”
“Let her go, and I will take her place.”
“Grayson, what are you saying?” Archie tried to say more, but Grayson shook his head. He never took his eyes from Elizabeth’s.
“Let her go, and I will take her place.”
“You’d come with me? Share this—with me?”
“Yes. But no one else can die. Let Lucia go.”
“We need the blood. We need to release the aether.”
“No. I can do it without the blood. You know I can.”
Lucia’s eyes met Archie’s and she could see his shock was as clear as her own. Grayson was powerful, yes, and his magic was an older, more arcane version of what they wielded. His connection to the aether was different from their own. Could he truly unlock the door between their world and the aether’s without spilling blood?
Grayson held out his hand. “Come now, Elizabeth. Put all this to bed. Let them go so that we can be together.”
The knife dipped and for a moment Lucia truly believed that Elizabeth would listen to Grayson’s pleas. However, she was not surprised with the woman laughed instead.
“You’re all alike. I am no ninny-headed woman to be led by the nose to slaughter, Grayson. I will have what I want and you will not stop me.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”
Lucia could see how much the words hurt the young man. He still cared for the woman, even as deranged as she was.
“You can try,” Elizabeth invited. The knife pressed against Lucia’s neck, into the ribbon of the cameo.
“This has gone far enough, Elizabeth.” Atticus Dooley and Del Wicket stepped into the moonlight. Dooley shook his head at Elizabeth with a glare. “If you do this there’ll be no world to rule. You’ll kill us all.”
“What do you know?” Elizabeth sneered. “You’re a weak man and a weaker mage. I am the only one with the stomach for what must be done.”