Brotherhood of the Strange (Kingship, Tales from the Aether Book 1)

by Michael Richie

  “Aren’t you overdoing it a tad bit there, Brother?” Degory asked as he sat down and placed a napkin in his lap.

  Edward sat across from him and drained half the glass before putting it down and retrieving his own napkin. “It takes the edge off,” he replied evasively. “I might not need so much if you would aid me in my work as I have aided you in yours.”

  “Persuasion by guilt, Edward? That seems unlike you. Thinly veiled threats followed by violence have been more your style of late.”

  Edward stared at Degory, the emotions on his haggard face seemed to walk a thin line between anger and fear. He said no more, but turned fitfully to his lunch.

  The two ate in silence for a few minutes. When he finished, Degory wiped his mouth and placed the napkin on his plate. He figured it was time to get some answers, and to do that he would need to be bold, and take a few chances. Pointing with his clockwork arm he inquired, “What is in the case?”

  Edward lowered his fork, took another drink from yet another glass of Scotch, and breathed deeply. “All in good time. Degory, I have been trying to reason with you for days now. I know we have our differences, but the work I have been assigned could really use your expertise.”

  “Expertise?” he responded. “By your own admission Lazarus has been successful. I don’t have the expertise in biology that you do. I’m not sure what more I could contribute.” He added, “And you should know even if I did, I have no intention of assisting this ghastly, mad affair.”

  “This affair, as you put it, is far more ghastly and mad than even you realize. It is a necessary one, however. One that will help to usher in a new era of peace for mankind. Don’t you want to be part of that?”

  “Edward, you are speaking in riddles, and have been since you abducted me, not to mention completely alienating what was left of your sad relationship with your daughter in the process. I have no intention of helping you. If you don’t need help with project Lazarus, then I don’t even know what I’m saying no to!”

  Edward paused for a moment before he spoke again, “Fair enough. I might as well tell you, because any further lack of cooperation will mean I can no longer protect you.”

  Degory interrupted, “I seriously doubt you ever had any intentions of protecting your little brother. If so, you would not be playing errand boy to the Hand of Paris.”

  “How little you know them, Degory. They have taken the Brotherhood out of the Dark Ages and are going to guide us all to a better world.” He held up his hand to cut off Degory’s response. “It doesn’t matter. I know we will not see eye to eye on this topic until you know everything. As I said, I can no longer protect you without effort on your part,” he paused. “Grigori is convinced you are responsible for Lord Maxfield’s disappearance.”

  “Oh, it’s Lord Maxfield now, is it?”

  “And he would like nothing more than to question you himself. As your brother, even an estranged one, I have no desire to see that happen to you. If I tell you everything, there will be no turning back. You will know what the most trusted Brothers in the Hand of Paris know. If you are not committed to our cause, they will never let you live after you’ve recovered the time machine, and with it, Lord Maxfield and Pandora’s Box. Not after what I am about to show you.”

  Degory returned his brother’s delusional monologue with silence as he looked out the window. The storm had increased, and the lashing of the rain on the window provided an apt accompaniment to his brooding thoughts. After months, he might finally see enough of the pieces to know how to proceed. The cost, however, appeared to be quite high. He was certain his increasingly unstable brother was sincere in his admonition that his life was in danger. Degory had been taking that risk since he first traveled via Temporal Accelerator to Maxfield’s office. Though the danger now was considerably greater, should he do nothing, he would be turned over to Grigori, and be tortured into coercion anyway. This way, he at least had a chance.

  “Show me,” he replied simply.

  Gravely, Edward nodded and rose from his chair. He picked up the small lockbox. “Follow me, Brother. I am about to show you something glorious.”

  Chapter XXI

  The overwhelming silence of Bethlem was more poignant than ever as Degory and Edward, accompanied by the same two hired thugs, made their way through the polished corridors of the asylum. Like before, Degory saw only a handful of fearful workers, each performing the day-to-day tasks that went into the running of the place, even when vacant.

  “How’s Cordelia?” Degory inquired quietly.

  Edward looked at his brother with an inscrutable expression. “She seems to be well enough. My daughter doesn’t seem to have the fortitude for this kind of business, I’m afraid. It was unkind of you to pit her against me as you have.”

  “Edward, you really can’t take responsibility for anything can you?”

  The older Priest seemed to let that pass. “Last evening she arrived in Sherwood Isle, where she was met by an acquaintance of ours. I believe you are familiar with John Corbin?”

  “That charlatan?” Degory snorted. John Corbin was a member of the Brotherhood, and Degory had never liked the arrogant, but smooth talking man, though for a while, he could not figure out why. It had come as no surprise when Degory had learned of John’s association with the Hand of Paris. While his skill set was useless in the traditional Brotherhood, his talents as a con man served the corruption of Maxfield LeRoy well. His particular brand of snake oil had unfortunately convinced many otherwise strong and faithful Brothers to join with the Hand.

  “I’m surprised he didn’t find running errands for you beneath him,” Degory snorted.

  “Not at all,” Edward replied. “We’re all concerned at what Cordelia has been up to. Besides, it wasn't out of his way. There is a great deal of money and influence on Sherwood. We have our interests to protect after all.”

  “I see,” said Degory. “What happened after he intercepted her?”

  Edward chuckled, “She proved to be most helpful, actually. It seems she accidentally got off her transport in the worker’s area of town. It can be a pretty rough neighborhood, I hear. Anyway, she was apparently quite easy to spot, considering how out of place she looked, particularly with all of that luggage.” He stopped walking and turned to Degory. “Did you know she brought that blasted owl with her?”

  Degory shook his head. He wasn’t surprised, as his niece doted on that confounded bird.

  “Not to mention your sword cane,” he added. “Obviously she’s hoping to see you again soon.” He continued walking, turning down a broad flight of stairs, Degory and the two thugs in tow. “It’s too bad really. I doubt you two will be reacquainted any time in the near future.”

  This time it was Degory who paused. A thug pushed him along, nearly making him lose his footing on the staircase, but he held his ground. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, a slight fearful edge to his voice that he wished he could conceal. The concern was far more for his niece than himself, even considering his own unpleasantries which might lie ahead.

  Edward paused his stride again, but did not turn to face his brother, “Don’t worry dear brother. She’s safe, at least for the time being. She boarded the Kingship, much to our dismay. Her crew took them by surprise, it seems. I must say, Degory, it was quite clever of you to use the Kingship to track our time machine. Oh, yes, we’ve finally figured out your game. Honestly, I’m really surprised none of us thought of it first.” He continued walking down the stairs. Degory woodenly followed, not needing any encouragement from his uncouth shadowers. “I’m sure you knew that the necessary systems were deactivated when she was put into mothballs some forty years ago. Which means you would have had to have replacement parts fabricated, and we both know there are only a few groups of people in the world besides us with access to that kind of arcane technology. Were you able to have everything you needed built?” Degory said nothing. “It doesn’t matter. The situation is being looked
into, just in case there was something you overlooked. But as I said, Cordelia is safe, as far as I know. I don’t know much about the crew of the Kingship, but I can’t imagine you would have sent my daughter off into the aether without knowing the sort of people she’d be flying with. Whether or not she remains safe, will be up to you. Now that you have agreed to be shown that which you are not worthy of, you will have a choice to make.” They had descended the stairs and had traveled down another corridor, stopping at a guarded lift which was opened before they had reached it. Turning and grabbing Degory’s good arm, Edward looked him directly in the eye, “I hope, for all our sakes, Brother, that you make the right one.”

  Degory said nothing to his elder sibling, nor to the thugs who parted ways with them upon reaching the lift. He was beginning to feel sick, and more than afraid his failure would prove to be the undoing of all he held dear. Edward, or others in the Hand of Paris, had successfully unraveled his carefully laid plans. The Kingship was absolutely key to retrieving the Temporal Accelerator and its evil cargo. Should it fall into the Hand’s clutches, his one advantage would be lost. It was also most disconcerting how unstable Edward clearly was. While they had never had the best of relationships, Degory was usually a master at reading his older brother. Now, his mood seemed to swing on a dangerous pendulum. One moment, he seemed on edge, twitchy, and in constant need of alcohol. The next, such as now, he stood with confidence, poise, and determination, as if his destiny was already assured him. Yet under both of those masks, Degory sensed a tremendous burden, one that was always on the verge of unhinging him, and sending him down the same path of insanity that had claimed both of their parents.

  The lift let out on a level Degory assumed was a basement corridor of some sort. Here, the floor was uneven stone worn smooth by the footfalls of countless years. They continued on in silence, making several turns and passing through a couple of heavy, rusted doors. Were he left to his own devices, Degory was unsure he could have found his way back. Edward, on the other hand, walked this with the familiarity of an evening stroll around his own grounds. Clearly, he had made this trip many times. The two Priests descended another flight of stairs and came to a large, guarded door. With a curt nod it was opened for Edward, and Degory followed him inside. While he wasn’t sure what to expect, he still would not have guessed at the sheer size of the subterranean room he now stood in. It was a vast and very modern laboratory, though the stonework of the walls suggested the room itself was centuries old. The far wall held an impressive array of mechanized equipment attached to surgical tables. Tables that, for the moment, were as silent as the rest of Bethlem. Large glass tanks filled with a thick, slightly yellowish liquid distorted the rows upon rows of blackboards covered in Egyptian hieroglyphics in back of them. Several dozen containers resembling caskets which were hooked up to what appeared to be some form of refrigeration gave Degory a sense of dark foreboding. A large freight elevator stood open, and these casket-like objects were being loaded onto it by more of the generic, burly hired help Edward was so fond of using. Degory knew he was now standing in the horrific presence of Project Lazarus.

  Edward moved to an elevated platform that overlooked the rest of the large room and placed the small lockbox on a work desk nearly identical to the one in his office several stories above them. This office was complete with another nearly empty decanter of whiskey, of which he promptly took advantage. Again, Degory refused the implied offer. He noticed the cockiness Edward bore on the trip down was falling away, and the sense of haunting was again coming to bear.

  “It’s beautiful, isn't it?” Edward stated, motioning to the vast room and its ghastly equipment. “It has taken years of research and testing, but my dream is finally a reality.”

  “You have a strange sense of beauty,” Degory replied.

  “You still lack vision, my brother. I’m looking at the grand scheme. I’ve told you before, the gods are returning. Lord Maxfield has been chosen to make ready their arrival. His temporary disappearance will not change that. At last, there will be peace and the rule of law on this sad little world of ours without wasting otherwise useful lives on fruitless conflict. Project Lazarus will be key in the necessary tasks of the coming months. Thousands upon thousands of our Lazarus automatons will be able to accomplish what no normal army could. They have no fear, they do not question, they simply obey.”

  “It is an abomination, Edward. For the last time, I will not help you murder the innocent and animate the dead.”

  Edward looked at him, “You still think I need your help with Lazarus?” He gave a small, nervous laugh. “No, no, my brother, as I told you over lunch, Lazarus is well underway. Our factories are in place and ready. Once these prototypes have been field tested, mass production will begin.”

  “Then again, I admit I’m at a loss, Edward. If not for this ghoulish endeavor, then what could you possibly need me for? I have no intention of building another Temporal Accelerator. Honestly, I don’t even know that I could. I imagine with the information regarding Cordelia’s whereabouts there is now no point in keeping up the charade that I have any loyalty to the Hand of Paris. With all of that said, why on earth are you so desperate to enlist my aid?”

  “Simply this,” Edward replied as he began to work the complicated locking mechanism on the case he had brought down with him. “Though it pains me to admit, your knowledge of the arcane and supernatural has always surpassed mine. All that time you spent with Mother trying to contact James after he passed.” He then added, “Not to mention the time you spent trying to contact her once she joined him.” The box opened with a click, and Edward took out a small circular clay tablet roughly six inches in diameter. Strange hieroglyphics were impressed upon it which spiraled out from the center. He placed this artifact carefully on the desk in front of Degory, who let out a long breath of despair. Simply looking at this curious, but unassuming piece of pottery seemed to make the entire room grow gloomier, and it was as if shadows were constantly dancing on the edges of his vision.

  “The Disk of Phaistos,” Degory said with a sickening quiet.

  “Indeed,” came the equally quiet, though far more reverent reply.

  “Is this how you’ve been controlling the reanimated bodies?”

  “At first, yes. It was Lord Maxfield who finally made the breakthrough. We all know the Disk of Phaistos could summon and control beings from other realms. He would listen to Pandora’s Box for sometimes hours on end, and then he would know exactly the words and phrases to apply to the disk. That’s how we got the first few animated.” Edward motioned to the blackboards, “After that, some trial and error using the Egyptian Book of the Dead was all we needed. Now we can reanimate a corpse with great ease, and thanks to our breakthroughs with the synthetic ectoplasm, we are able to retain the spirit and control it.”

  Degory felt hot bile in the back of his throat, sickened as he was by Edward’s casual violation of all that was sacred. The shear amount of evil his brother had become part of was unnerving. Though his plans were falling apart, Degory still took some comfort in the fact that the orchestrator of all of this was safely tucked away traveling through time. For now, he was not a direct threat. Unfortunately, the Hand of Paris marched on, now to the unwavering beat of Grigori the zealot. He ruefully admitted to himself that, though Maxfield was gone, the situation hadn’t improved.

  “Then this project is even more deranged than I imagined. Trapping spirits has been attempted by civilizations throughout recorded history. None of them remain today. Anyway, I still fail to see how this involves me,” said Degory. “As much as I wish it were otherwise, your plans seem to be going well, despite Maxfield’s absence.”

  “They are,” Edward admitted. “However, Project Lazarus is just the beginning. A means to an end, if you will. Pandora’s box has revealed to Lord Maxfield much greater things. Now that he and the Box are temporarily unavailable, we have only our faith to guide us. That faith requires the use of the Disk of P
haistos. We are on a timetable that is written in the stars, and it cannot be postponed simply because of his absence.” He was wringing his hands and trembling. “Grigori has charged me with using the Disk, and I have yet to decipher the appropriate glyphs to ensure the success of Phase Two. Degory! I don’t have Maxfield’s spiritual gifts! I have only gotten so far… But together!” he said pointing at the Disk. “Together Degory, we can solve the riddles on this relic! Please help me, Brother! I cannot fail in this! I cannot fail Lord Maxfield, or Grigori, or the gods to come!”

  Degory watched as his brother became more and more unhinged. He now understood his desire for alcohol of late. Edward had been put in a nearly impossible position, made in part, Degory had to admit, by his own actions.

  “Edward,” he said calmly, “What are you supposed to do with the Disk of Phaistos?”

  “You’ve read the ancient writings in the Vault as much as I. There are creatures that dwell in the depths of the earth and sea that have their origins beyond the stars. Many of these are forerunners of the gods themselves. It is up to me to summon one.”

  “Edward,” Degory said earnestly, “You cannot be a party to this. It is said that simply looking upon these abominations is enough to drive men mad. You really think that little clay disk will protect you, whether or not you get the incantations correct?”