Cloak Games_Blood Cast

by Jonathan Moeller

  I didn’t say anything. A lot of bad things might have happened if I hadn’t been there. Russell would have been taken captive. Robert and Rusk and Vander would have been killed. Felix, too – I doubted Lorenz would burden himself with a baby. He almost certainly would have taken Alexandra and Jill back with him to Venomhold and imprisoned them in the brothel the Rebels used to reward their soldiers, the women drugged to make them passive and obedient. That was one of Nicholas’s little innovations, copied from the wars of pre-Conquest Earth.

  “Yes,” I said out loud.

  “One more question,” said Robert.

  I nodded.

  “How did you learn to fight like that?” said Robert.

  “Fight like what?” I said.

  “I think what Captain Ross means,” said Vander, “is that you displayed a shocking level of magical power.”

  “You already asked that,” I said, but Robert talked over me.

  “Yeah,” said Robert. “Yeah, that’s it. During our last trip together, I saw you fight. You didn’t do anything like that. You were calling up firestorms and lightning and walls of ice, and you mowed down those orcs like grass. You were fighting like an Elven noble.”

  I didn’t say anything. What could I tell him? That I had been locked in an Eternity Crucible for a hundred and fifty-eight years? That I had died something like fifty-eight thousand times, every last one of those deaths agonizing and horrible?

  “Well,” I said at last. “I learned that the best way to learn anything. The hard way. A better question is what we’re going to do next.”

  “Call Homeland Security,” said Robert at once.

  “Yeah,” I said. “But like I said before, I’m betting you don’t want to talk to the Inquisition about Mr. Vander here.”

  Robert hesitated. “No. No…I think it would be for the best if we didn’t mention Mr. Vander to anyone in authority.”

  “Mr. Vander agrees, for the record,” said Vander. “I’m getting too old for this kind of nonsense. How did I get caught up in this?”

  Rusk snorted. “The same way we all did. Young Mr. Moran talked us into it. And I, for one, am glad that he did.”

  “Anyway,” I said before the conversation could wander further afield, “an anonymous report to Homeland Security is the best way to go.”

  Robert shook his head. “Anonymous reports aren’t given high priority at Homeland Security. Or by the Inquisition.”

  “We’ll have to think of something else,” I said.

  But that was a lie. I had already decided what I was going to do. Once I made sure that Russell, Alexandra, Robert, Felix, Rusk, Jill, and Mr. Vander were safe and out of this mess, I was going to find Victor Lorenz and crush him like the cockroach that he was. I hadn’t wanted to start a fight with Nicholas until his deal with Morvilind was done, but Lorenz had crossed the line. The next time I saw Lorenz, I was going to do my best to end his life then and there. Even if he was sitting right next to Nicky.

  Unless…

  Maybe I could get Nicholas to kill Lorenz for me?

  If I called Nicholas and told him that one of his men had attacked me and violated his deal with the Forerunner, maybe that could force Nicholas to get rid of Lorenz. Or, even better, maybe if I went to Morvilind himself and told him that Nicholas’s men had attacked me, I could get him to break his deal with the Forerunner. Then I could call the Lord Inquisitor Arvalaeon himself, point him and his goons at the Rebels, and let the Inquisition go to town on Nicky’s would-be Revolution.

  Perhaps that was the best idea.

  Especially since I wasn’t sure that I wanted to fight that Elven necromancer with Lorenz.

  The fireball I had thrown at Lorenz should have killed him, but the necromancer had blocked it. I wasn’t certain, but I didn’t think the Elf had been trying very hard in the battle. Robert might think I had the power of an Elven noble, but some Elven wizards are stronger than others.

  “Like what?” said Robert.

  “We’ll work it out when we get to this safe house of Murdo’s,” I said. “But whatever I decide to do, I want to get you and your family out of this mess. You too, Rusk. And I don’t think you should be in any danger once we get you clear. Lorenz wanted Russell, and you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He wouldn’t have seen you in the firefight.”

  Murdo’s SUV turned right, and I followed. We were in the industrial areas of Wauwatosa, not far from the rail tracks where I had escaped from Mr. Cane all those years ago. We drove down a narrow street lined with decrepit-looking warehouses.

  “Wait a minute,” said Robert.

  “What?” I said.

  “Murdo’s Graysworn, isn’t he?” said Robert.

  I thought about how to answer, and then decided it didn’t matter. Murdo was Graysworn, and so was Robert Ross. If both men realized they were “friends” of the Knight of Grayhold, they might work better together.

  “How’d you guess?” I said at last.

  “Because,” said Robert, “I know where we are going.”

  Murdo slowed and turned into a decrepit-looking warehouse yard. The warehouse was a shabby-looking brick building, with stacks of pallets and shipping containers lining the fence. The SUV parked outside the warehouse, out of sight of the main gate to the street, and I settled my van next to it.

  “Then where are we?” said Rusk.

  “A safehouse for the Graysworn,” said Robert. “The Knight owns the building through a shell corporation.”

  “Hmm,” said Rusk.

  I glanced back at him. “You know who the Graysworn are?”

  Rusk raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been his lordship’s butler for decades, Miss Moran. I know many things I wish I had never learned. But the Knight of Grayhold helps to defend Earth from the creatures of the Shadowlands, and the Graysworn are the Knight’s friends on Earth.” He hesitated. “His lordship has…strong opinions on the Knight of Grayhold.”

  “I’ll bet,” I said. Knowing Morvilind and Jacob Temple, they had likely helped and hindered each other at various times. I shut off the engine, and we got out, Rusk and Vander helping Jill along. She was putting up a brave face, but I could tell she really needed to lie down.

  My left leg hurt damnably. I ignored it.

  I looked towards the SUV as Murdo and Russell emerged. Alexandra followed them, holding Felix. It was still over ninety degrees Fahrenheit, and while that didn’t affect me, I doubted that the heat would be good either for the baby or for Jill.

  “Hey, Rory,” I said. “Maybe we had better let Alexandra and Jill stay in the SUV with the engine running. It’s hot, and the SUV has air conditioning.”

  “Normally I would agree,” said Murdo, “but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  He walked to a narrow door in the warehouse’s brick wall and flipped up a small metal panel, revealing a keypad. Murdo punched in a long code, and the lock chirped and clanged as the bolt released. The door swung open, and Murdo gestured for us to go inside.

  Beyond the door was a large room that looked a bit like the lobby of a nice hotel that had closed for the season. There were couches and chairs, all covered with tarps, and through a door on the far wall, I saw a hallway that led to multiple small bedrooms. Another door opened into a room that held metal shelves of canned goods, medical supplies, and weapons.

  “Huh,” I said. “I was not expecting that.”

  “I’ve been here before,” said Robert, standing close to Alexandra. She leaned against him, still holding Felix. “The Graysworn use this place when our tasks from the Knight take us to the Milwaukee area.”

  “I didn’t know old Jake Temple had this much money,” I said.

  Murdo grunted. “He doesn’t. But he’s very resourceful.” He took a deep breath. “Mrs. Ross, you can use any one of the bedrooms for the baby. Mr. Rusk, likewise Jill can use any of the beds. There should be bedding in the closets. I think Mr. Vander, Mr. Moran, and Miss Stoker…pardon, Miss Moran, and I all need to have a long ta
lk.”

  That was right. Murdo knew my real name now.

  “What are we going to do, though?” said Rusk. “We can’t stay here. That Lorenz brigand doesn’t seem the sort to give up easily.”

  He wasn’t.

  “That’s one of the things we must decide,” said Murdo.

  “Right,” said Robert, and he helped Rusk guide Jill down the corridor, Alexandra following them with Felix. About halfway there Jill wobbled, so Robert simply picked her up and carried her to one of the beds.

  I watched them go, and then looked at Russell and Vander.

  “You’re hurt,” said Russell.

  “What?” I said and looked down at my leg. “Oh, yeah. I’ll deal with that later.” Both Russell and Vander frowned at that. I suppose it looked more painful than it really was. Actually, it did hurt a lot, I just didn’t care. “So. You said you’d tell me.” I pointed at Vander. “Just who the hell are you, and why can you heal people?”

  “He’s on our side, Nadia,” said Russell.

  Vander sighed. “I will tell you, Miss Moran. But…please do not kill me until I have the chance to explain.”

  That didn’t sound good.

  “All right,” I said.

  Vander sighed and seemed to brace himself. Then he reached for his right wrist and started tugging at it. That was weird since he wasn’t wearing a watch or a bracelet or anything.

  Then it got weirder.

  He slid a thick, heavy silver bracelet off his wrist. It was made of about twenty interlocking segments, and it looked like the band from an expensive watch. That wasn’t the strange part.

  What was strange was the fact that I was certain, absolutely certain, that Vander hadn’t been wearing a bracelet.

  “What…” I started to say, and then Vander changed.

  Specifically, Nathan Vander turned into an Elf.

  He had the same height, and he was wearing the same clothes, but he was an Elf. His face had the alien cast of the Elves. His ears rose to a sharp point. He was unquestionably an Elf.

  Reflex grabbed control. I took two quick steps back and lifted my hand, six lightning globes snarling into life and whirling around me.

  “What the hell?” I said.

  “I knew she would react like this,” said Vander.

  “He’s not a threat, Nadia,” said Murdo.

  “Nadia!” said Russell. “He won’t hurt you. He’s on our side, Nadia. He healed Jill Rusk and Felix. Why would he do that if he wanted to hurt people?”

  He had a point. And something else worked its way through the alarm filling my brain. I saw a vein throbbing in Vander’s neck, and his eyes kept darting back and forth.

  He was frightened. Terrified, in fact.

  Of me, specifically.

  What had I become, that I could frighten an Elf?

  I let out a long breath and dismissed the power I had called. Vander relaxed a little.

  “Okay,” I said. “Okay. I have questions.”

  “I figured you would,” said Vander.

  “You were Masked,” I said. “Disguised as a human.” Vander nodded. “But Masks use a lot of magical force. They’re obvious to detect if you use the spell to sense magic. Why didn’t I sense your Mask when I cast the spell to detect magical force?”

  “Because of this,” said Vander, hefting the bracelet in his palm. He pulled it back over his wrist, and his appearance changed to a wiry middle-aged human shop teacher once more.

  The bracelet, of course, vanished as well.

  “What is it?” I said.

  “It is called a Ghostwright Mask,” said Vander. “Back on Kalvarion, our homeworld, our most skilled artificers knew how to make them. A Ghostwright Mask creates a magical illusion that no spell can detect or penetrate, so long as the bearer wears the bracelet. Since all Elves have at least some magical ability, you can imagine that these bracelets were highly prized.”

  “Did you make it yourself?” I said. But that didn’t seem right. From what I had seen of Vander’s magic, he wasn’t a powerful wizard. Truth be told, I think I was a good deal stronger.

  “No,” said Vander. He looked at Russell, sighed, and then looked back at me. “The High Queen made it for me.”

  “The High Queen?” I said, taken aback. “Why would she do that? Why give you a bracelet to disguise you as a human?”

  Vander gave me a bitter little smile. “It was part of my parole.”

  “Parole?” I said. “What did you do? Insult the High Queen? Make fun of Lord Mythrender? I…”

  Facts started to click together in my brain. That the High Queen would parole an Elf made sense. Elves committed crimes just as humans did. Baron Castomyr was proof of that. Except…the Elves really preferred to keep to themselves. The Elven nobles ruled over mankind, but the Elven commoners lived in their own cities, and only human slaves were allowed there. From what I heard, even human slaves were not all that welcome, and there was intense social pressure from the commoner Elves to keep human slaves out of their cities.

  Why was Vander living with humans? As a punishment? That didn’t make sense. There were easier ways to punish someone. That meant the only reason he was living among humans, disguised as a human…

  He couldn’t live among the other Elven commoners because they would kill him.

  “Oh,” I said. “You were an Archon, weren’t you?”

  Vander looked at Russell and smiled a little. “You were right about her. She figured it out much faster than you did.”

  “Don’t try to flatter me,” I said. “I’ve killed Archons before, and I was a lot younger and a lot less mean back then.” Murdo frowned at that. “So why shouldn’t I kill you now?”

  “Because I betrayed the Archons to the High Queen,” said Vander. His eyes grew distant. “I believed in the Archon cause, at first. I joined them willingly. Joyfully, even. I believed in the three-headed dragon that was our symbol. Liberty, equality, solidarity. We would overthrow the High Queen and the nobles, and all would be equal, all would be free, all would be prosperous.”

  I had heard crap like that from Nicholas. “Sure didn’t work out that way, did it?”

  “No,” said Vander. His eyes were haunted like he was looking at some horror from the past that only he could see. “When the High Queen ruled, Kalvarion was a harsh place, but it was an orderly place. Now our homeworld is a nightmare of blood and death. The Archons have built death camps and exterminate anyone who crosses them or is even inconvenient. They use the blood of the slain to fuel mighty spells of dark magic. All the chief Archons are possessed by Dark Ones, and it has twisted them into monsters. They have waged war against a hundred different worlds and spilled oceans of innocent blood. The Archons have become a thousand times worse than the High Queen and her father ever were.” His tired eyes met mine. “The Archons are a thousand times worse than anything the High Queen has done to your world.”

  “So how did you defect?” I said. “I assume you must have done something useful for her, else the High Queen wouldn’t have let you settle here as a shop teacher.”

  “I warned her of one of the impending Archon attacks,” said Vander. “The High Queen and her nobles were then ready for it, and they utterly crushed the Archon force. In exchange, she gave me the Ghostwright Mask and let me live here.”

  I studied him, thinking it over.

  “No,” I said. “There’s more.”

  Vander smiled a little and looked at Russell. “She really is as smart as you said.”

  “Don’t try to deflect me with flattery,” I said. “You must be useful to the High Queen somehow. She’s not the forgiving sort.”

  “Are you so sure of that?” said Vander.

  “Entirely,” I said. “You must have some useful talent or ability, or some…”

  Another memory started rattling around in the horror show of my brain. I was sitting handcuffed to a cold metal chair, naked and bleeding and bruised, while the Lord Inquisitor Arvalaeon started what I thought was an i
nterrogation. Instead, he had told me to ask him questions, and one of the questions I had asked was if there was a way to save Russell without Morvilind’s cure spells. And Arvalaeon had said…

  “You’re a bloodcaster, aren’t you?” I said. “Jill Rusk should be dead. Felix Ross needed surgery that might have killed him. But you were able to save them both.”

  “Yes,” said Vander. “I was always only a mediocre wizard. All Elves can use magic, yes, much in the same way that nearly all humans can learn to read and write. But some humans can barely get through a newspaper article, and some read a book a day. I was never more than marginally competent with most spells, but I know how to heal.”

  “Which is why the High Queen paroled you and set you up with that Ghostwright Mask toy,” I said. “When she needs a bloodcaster, you’re the man she calls.”

  “I am,” said Vander. “When she needs someone healed, I get a phone call, and then a sudden trip on a plane or a helicopter. It doesn’t happen often. No more than seven or eight times a year, and never more than once a month.”

  I started to say something, and then an idea of blazing simplicity shot through my mind like a thunderbolt.

  “Frostfever,” I said. “Can you cure frostfever?”

  “I can,” said Vander.

  This was it. This was my way out of all my many problems. If Vander could cure Russell’s frostfever, then Morvilind would have no more hold over me. And I could turn Nicholas and his entire miserable crew over to the Inquisition. I had collected a lot of information on all of them, and I would enjoy handing it over to Arvalaeon and then getting out of the way.

  “But there is a complication,” said Vander.

  My elation faded.

  “Of course there is,” I said. “Why wouldn’t there be a complication?”

  “Frostfever is a powerful and complex magical disease,” said Vander. “The frost giants were always skilled wizards. To remove it properly, I would need to draw on the power of a dragon pearl.”

  I blinked. The words didn’t make any sense. “A dragon…what?”

  “A dragon pearl,” said Vander.

  “What the hell is a dragon pearl?”

  “A magical repository of power created by a dragon,” said Vander.