Ward

by C Bilici

  “Without it we would not have the power to fight them.” He shrugged. “No amount of sigils would be effective. Each of us Wards was at some time infected by Umbra. You get used to it.” He said the last in a monotone that indicated otherwise.

  “So you use it — them — to power your magic? Like fuel?”

  “Exactly.”

  She nodded. “So, what’s your life token? Your secret sauce recipe?”

  He blinked at her, pausing. “Gold dust, my blood, and semen.”

  “Now I wish I hadn’t mentioned secret sauce.” She pulled a disgusted face. “Yeah, I think I’d take whiskey, thanks.” She walked to the living area as he left to check the rest of the rooms. The TV was still on in the corner. Unable to find where she’d flung the remote, she opted on simply pulling the plug.

  “What is it with men thinking their dicks and whatever comes out of them is holy?” she said, looking at the pronged plastic lump in her hand. She dropped it with a grimace. Stacey walked back to the kitchen to top up her glass. “And gold dust? Seriously?”

  She frowned at the thought. He had no job. No money. Where was he getting this gold? She started yelling as she walked to her mother’s room.

  “Hey. You better not be stealing my mum’s jewellery.”

  Fenton stood by the window and tilted his head back in exasperation. “I am not a thief,” he bellowed, and yanked the eye amulet she had seen out from his shirt and held it up. “Gold.”

  “Alright, whatever. So now what? You fucking finished yet?”

  “We need to go see a friend of mine.”

  She threw back the rest of the whiskey. “Is now really time for a social call?” She walked back to the kitchen and collected her car keys. Key, she corrected herself. Her life, reduced to a solitary key.

  “As I said, I need to recharge.”

  “Right, that. Lead the way.” She motioned toward the door. Then she remembered the last ingredient on his list. “You better not be getting me to drive you to some seedy rub ‘n’ tug.”

  Fenton ignored her.

  * * *

  He emerged some time later, an attractive blond woman with sharp features on his arm, who gave him a hug and a kiss on both cheeks European style as she let him out.

  “Let’s go.” He shot the words and a glance at Stacey as he walked past.

  Stacey had been having a heated silent staring contest with the receptionist behind the counter, sitting with her arms and legs tightly crossed on a dark leather couch across from the desk.

  “Don’t be a stranger,” the girl said, and gave Stacey a thin-lipped smile.

  With a creak of leather, Stacey blew the receptionist a kiss using her extended middle finger as she rose. Her hand turned to transform into devil horns at the apex of its sweep as she walked out the door.

  Fenton turned to face her from beside her car.

  “What’s the fucking deal making me sit for hours while you have a booty call?”

  “Is your car locked?” he said, ignoring her.

  “I thought we had little time,” she added in as pompous a British accent as she could muster. “And a fucking bondage club?”

  “Is it locked?”

  Arms crossed, Stacey waited for an explanation. None forthcoming, she let out a huff, slipped her hand into her pocket as she walked, and pressed the button.

  “So what the fu—”

  Fenton grabbed her by the upper arms and they fell out of existence, flipping to that other place.

  This time Stacey had her eyes wide open. Her mouth joined them as she saw that place.

  The landscape was a sparse, white nothingness. Fenton moved from her line of sight. It was like falling into a pool of evenly lit milk. She could feel found beneath her, but there was nothing to ground her senses.

  AS she turned to Fenton, her only anchor, she saw that she was wrong. High above them, against more blank white, lines radiated out from a point behind her. That sensation that something loomed over her hit again.

  Stacey turned.

  Her jaw dropped further as she saw the origin of the lines and her eyes followed the object up and she took in details.

  Pillars sheathed in aged leather and metal. Rusted chain mail and dirty cloth. A band of brown leather as wide as her forearm was long. A large red cross painted on off-white cloth.

  Above that cross, a huge skull hooded in chain-mail.

  She took a step back and bumped into Fenton.

  “Stacey, Godfrey. Godfrey, Stacey,” Fenton offered by way of introduction.

  The nightmare’s face, dotted with rotten flesh, was pointed at her. Twin fires in it’s not-quite empty sockets danced as it looked her over. The giant, zombie knight stood straighter, hanging a skeletal hand on the sword at its belt. It cracked open its jaw and emit a low rumble.

  “Fuck me,” Stacey said, neck still craned as she looked at the giant.

  “Funny,” Fenton said, smirking, “that’s what he said.”

  “What the fuck is that thing?” Stacey pushed past Fenton to back away.

  It had to be the height of a three-storey building. The lines that she’d seen centred directly above it. There were chains, ropes, and all manner of other bindings. All of them disappeared into a singularity high above it’s head.

  It opened its huge mouth again and growled. It didn’t have enough facial features to scowl, but Stacey swore it looked angrier.

  “He doesn’t like being called a thing.”

  “I don’t fucking care. What is he?” She pulled a face as she said it and the giant shifted its weight and looked angrier still, if that was possible.

  “Godfrey is my avatar. Every Ward has one.”

  “Yeah? That doesn’t explain jack-shit.”

  Fenton sighed. “A Wards avatar is a manifestation of their power, a physical embodiment of it.” He looked at her for a moment.

  “Yeah, OK. But—” She motioned up and down at the creature before her.

  “When a Ward is bound, given their power, they must choose an avatar.”

  She pulled a face. “So why the fuck is yours a zombie knight?”

  He gave another long sigh. “I wished for my avatar to be an undying symbol of honour and virtue, chose the form of a knight Templar—”

  “And when he popped out he thought undying meant undead?” Stacey shook her head, a snort of laugh escaping her lips. “Be careful what you wish for, huh?” She stared into the face of the thing. She gripped her head in her hands. “OK, OK.” Her hair flew as she shook it out and groaned. “Still doesn’t really explain anything. Or the chains and ropes and stuff.” She pointed to the lines above their heads and to Godfrey’s hands. “Is this a bondage thing?”

  “The most important role of the avatars is to assist in shielding the Earth from the Umbra. Each line you see up there is a link from other avatars, Other Wards.”

  “Right,” she said, drawing out the word. “You said they leaked into our world. So there’s, what? A giant chain-link fence over the entire planet? And these dudes are the fence posts?”

  “If you like.”

  “And you’re like the border patrol?” Stacey gave a nervous laugh and grabbed her face again. “This is so fucking nuts!”

  “Listen to me.”

  Fenton took her arms and lowered them, stared into her face. It was the same tactic she used on kids when they were acting up.

  He caught her eye again. “When we get where we’re going, you follow me and stay silent. Understood?” She made to speak, eyebrows furrowed in argument. He held up a finger. “No ifs or buts. No exceptions. Even this place is further than most outsiders get.”

  “What the hell is this place anyway?” she said, looking around at the whiteness.

  “The Nexus. And that’s not what we’re talking about.”

  “More basic names.” She snorted. “I have… No scratch that, had some books at the kindergarten you guys would have loved. But they’re all a little crispy now.”

  He didn’t
react. The thought of Justin and the word crispy moved her on.

  “So, you come here when you—” She motioned her fingers into an explosion then back into a ball. “Seems pretty handy, this teleporting business.”

  “Yes, It’s very handy. It does wonders for travel expenses. The only proviso is we can only travel to places we’ve been before, or with a Ward who has. Now, as I was—”

  Stacey smirked. “Have you ever popped in to find someone in an awkward situation? Like you and little Miss Spanky before.”

  Fenton frowned. “I’m not entirely sure what you thought was happening in there. Ianka is a Ward. A colleague and a friend. I was collecting supplies.” She looked back at him with cocked brows. “I keep an emergency cache of ink there and she has tattooing equipment.”

  “Whatever floats your boat.”

  The giant growled, his Ward following suit. “If you’re quite finished with euphemisms, should we move on? Or did you have any more questions with which to waste our time?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have tonnes. But, I think I know enough for now, though. Umbra. Wards. Nexus. Avatars.” She counted off on her fingers.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and the world seemed to flip — or they did, she still didn’t know which — and then just as quickly flipped again. One moment she had been looking at white, and now was staring at a stone wall.

  As she blinked, more details became apparent as her eyes re-adjusted. Her legs, shaking beneath her, also worked to make sense of the sudden change. She was certain he had made the trip rougher to shake her up.

  Stacey looked around, blinking to adjust her eyes to the new, darker lighting that filtered from somewhere high above her. She looked up and saw that wherever here was, it was a huge cavern. It was too perfect to be natural, though. Too smooth. As she focused, she saw it was a massive dome.

  The light seeped in around a huge circular pillar where it disappeared into a thick base on the dome, a bright wide ring glowing the colour of the Nexus. The pillar looked to be carved with intricate patterns and was about the thickness of a small house. As her eyes flowed down it, she saw it thinned down and disappeared into another base where more light spilled out.

  Her gut flip-flopped again, but from a more pedestrian feeling born of fear.

  They were standing on a small globe held at the end of the pillar. What she had thought was a dome was in fact a sphere, and they were on a much smaller one at its centre.

  Her eyes darted about as she tried to turn and stand still in the same movement. She could see the horizon of the world her feet were planted on only a short distance away in whatever direction she looked.

  Stacey turned back to the pillar and locked on its solid surface. She fought the urge to drop to the floor and cling to it for dear life. Instead, she chose to inspect the surface of that massive column.

  Only to wish she hadn’t.

  It was not a column, but a collection of chains, ropes, and cords, like those she had seen high above Fenton’s avatar in the Nexus.

  The sphere she stood on was held by threads.

  She felt ill. At any moment she expected to tumble off at the slightest movement and fall to her death.

  “You’re quite safe.”

  “The fuck you say!”

  Fenton walked to stand at a distinct angle to her. “The disorientation will wear off soon enough.”

  “Easy for you to say.” She gave a nervous laugh. “The fuck is this place?”

  “The Enclave. This way.” He walked away from her and the pillar.

  When he was at a far more distinct angle to Stacey, which became more acute as he moved, her head spun and nausea churned her stomach. With an awkward gait, she took off after him. The sensation of vertigo did nothing to help her terror. The fact that with every step she felt she was about to fall off the edge of the world did nothing to help the vertigo. And the strange gravity underfoot compounded it all, constantly shifting to pull her to the centre she tried to forget was not that far below.

  She stopped close behind Fenton, swayed from dizziness, but it soon passed.

  In front of them was an identical the pillar. Built into the base was an archway with a heavy wooden double door.

  “What’s in there?” she asked, voice wavering like her body.

  “If they’re home, the Cardinal of the South.”

  Fenton pushed the door and walked into the stark light of the Nexus. After a few steps, he faded into the light and was gone. The pillar was empty, with no sign of all the tethers that ran into it. Stacey stared as the door swung back and closed.

  “This is all too fucking weird.”

  She pushed at the door and stepped in.

  CHAPTER TEN

  PAUL HUNG IN the air, or whatever passed for it in this place. He watched in terror as the man-creature slowly peeled layers off an old woman who screamed for her life, begging God and Jesus to save her. Then simply begging. First her believed in saviours, then the monster to end her suffering.

  It used its fingers formed into various instruments of pain and torture, seemingly taking great pleasure in its task, all the while ignoring her pleas. It plucked a necklace from about her neck, giving her a moment’s respite.

  “You won’t be needing that,” it said, and tossed the crucifix away. It glittered for a moment before being consumed by the darkness around them.

  Paul tried to close his eyes, tried not to feel the stuff all around him, but couldn’t. Black tendrils held his eyelids pried open so he had to watch it all, unable to miss a moment, and had robbed him of all his clothing. That might have been an age or only minutes before. He had no way of knowing.

  The man-creature kept asking him questions between moments such as this. Taunting him. Playing with his body and his mind, both personally and by means of his creatures. They’d beaten him. Tortured him. Over and over. Paul pleaded for them to stop, saying he could take no more and he would give them whatever they wanted. The questions and torture continued, though, until they’d brought out the old woman.

  The man-creature tossed her aside, like the necklace, done with her too now. She’d served her purpose it seemed. Paul cast his eyes the opposite way as he heard the sounds of her rending flesh and final cries as creatures fought over her.

  He expected the torture on himself to begin anew.

  But it didn’t.

  Instead, the man-creature produced an infant.

  Paul yelled and screamed, cried and cursed as he pulled at his bonds. “I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll tell you whatever you want to hear!”

  “I know you will, Paul,” the man-creature said, dripping darkness from his smile. “I knew from the start you would.”

  Paul wished it would all just end, that they would just hurry up and get it over with.

  But they wouldn’t.

  Not until they had found her.

  The creature continued.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  AS HER LEGS stopped shaking, Stacey tried to take in the scene before her. Behind her was the door she’d just stepped through. Or it could have been another just like it. It was hard to tell any more. This side of the door was set in the wall of a wood hut-like structure, its only purpose she could see, to hold the door.

  Stacey turned about to take in the view.

  Sand. Water. Trees. More huts. What looked like a small, Mediterranean villa perched atop a cliff looking over an ocean, clear skies above it. The sky and horizon were somehow wrong, though, looking almost perfect, but painted on or a projection. In the middle distance, she saw Fenton walking back from the building.

  “Nobody home,” he said.

  “What is this place?” She looked around, feeling less nervous from the normalcy of the setting. Unlike the tiny world they’d just stepped off and the distant sky, she could have been anywhere on Earth.

  “This is one of the Cardinal’s abodes in the Enclave.” He started back toward the door.

  “The Enclave? That crazy place we cam
e from?”

  “Yes and no,” he said, stepping back through the door.

  Stacey followed. She was back on the sphere but didn’t feel quite so off kilter after the weird shifting through the doorway, and the questions scuttling around in her head aided in distracting her.

  Fenton walked about inspecting the floor and the cavernous roof.

  She jogged to catch up to him. “So is there another abode in the other pillar? And where’s this Enclave if it’s not here?”

  “Two doors to a pillar. Four abodes. Four cardinals. As to the Enclave…” He turned to look at her then pointed up.

  She tilted her head back, looked over the expansive inner surface of the spherical sky. She strained her eyes to make out details, turning about with her hand shielding her eyes from the glare of the white light. Fenton steered her with hands on her shoulders. She could make out lines and shapes.

  “Is that roads and buildings?” It was an impressive feat of engineering and she wondered how they had achieved it. “So, how do we get there? Another zap and teleport?”

  “I can. Not you.”

  “Why can’t you take me?”

  “Security. Only wards can take the direct route.”

  “I assume there’s another option.”

  “We’re going to jump,” he said, still looking at the ceiling.

  She laughed nervously, then looked to him when he didn’t react. “Seriously? Jump?”

  He pointed to her feet. She looked down and saw she was standing on a circular stone flag engraved with symbols.

  “Huh?”

  “You have to jump from there,” he said, still inspecting the dome. “It’s the only way.”

  She looked nervously at her feet. “Why the fuck not,” she said, shrugging.

  Stacey bent her knees and gave a little leap. Her feet should have barely left the ground.

  With a yelp, which turned to a shriek, she was rocketed into the sky.

  She was flying.

  A fresh scream tore from her lips as the momentary excitement turned to dread. The gravity of the small world was gone. Now she felt a greater force above her. What she was doing was no longer flight, but falling.