by Sean Stone
“Adam, what is your point?” asked Arthur, growing tired of the lecture. He had more important things to be doing and if Adam wasn’t going to listen to reason then he might as well leave.
“These crystal cages are extremely powerful and therefore extremely rare. You’d think that being a part down this one would severely lose its value, but actually not so much. You see, its easy enough to replace a missing crystal. They’re interchangeable.” Adam pulled a small clear crystal from his pocket and before Arthur had time to react he dropped it on the floor. The crystals hummed as they connected and a flare of white light shot from each crystal, connecting above Arthur’s head.
“You idiot!” Arthur yelled as panic seized him. He could feel the power humming around him and he knew there was no way he could break out of the cage.
“On the contrary, I’m exceedingly clever. You however…” Adam began walking around the outside of the cage, a smug strut in his step which suited him so very badly. It was like a different person was in the room. Like he was still possessed. Arthur had never seen Adam when Henry had been in control, but he imagined it looked something like this. “That museum I work at does have some good stuff in it.”
Arthur groaned as he fell to one knee. Pain rippled through his stomach as though he’d been stabbed and he could feel himself growing weak. “What are you doing to me?”
“I’ve added a new spell to the cage. It doesn’t just trap anymore. It sucks the energy from its prisoner too. When you’re too weak to fight back I’m going to kill you. Then we’ll be even,” said Adam.
Arthur wanted to ask what they’d be even for, but instead another question came out. “Are you going to use that filthy athame and seal your fate as a warlock forever?”
Adam stopped strutting and stared at Arthur, horrified. “I had never even considered doing such a monstrous thing. I am no warlock,” he said quietly, dangerously.
“Say what you like, but you are a warlock as long as you use that magic.”
“Say what you like, Arthur. You’ll be dead before midnight.”
“I’m not scared of death. I’ve died before. It wasn’t so bad. It’s you I pity, because you have to keep living with the knowledge that you are the very monster who killed your family.” Adam looked at him with such horror that Arthur nearly stopped, but he forced himself to continue. They were words Adam needed to hear. “When I look at you now all I see is Henry Montford.”
Chapter 11
Clara had spent the hour since Arthur had left practising the Power Ray spell. She’d made no progress. She’d searched through some of the spell books in the study, but none of them even mentioned the spell let alone gave tips on how to perform it. She went to sit down but rediscovered that her dad had destroyed the chair by demonstrating the Power Ray spell. That only made her angrier.
Kegan walked into the study, beaming from ear to ear. Nothing seemed to dampen his spirits. Clara envied him, she’d love to be able to feel so happy despite everything that was going on. “What’s the cause for celebration?” she said in a grumpy voice.
“The Pack are meeting tonight. They’re going to make a decision. In fact,” he looked at his watch. “The meeting should be starting in the next ten minutes or so.”
“Brilliant,” Clara said, but she didn’t get her hopes up. During the thirty years in which the council had kept the supernatural races oppressed the Pack didn’t once try to fight back. They’d earned themselves a reputation as being cowards, which was ironic for a pack of werewolves. “We should start thinking about how we’re going to rescue Richie.”
“We won’t need to if the Pack says yes,” Kegan said. He walked across the room and perched himself on the edge of the desk.
“We have to plan for the possibility they might say no,” she said. She’d held off so far because Arthur had insisted, but now it was time to get to work. When the pack said no she wanted to get Richie out straight away. Time was literally of the essence. She never got to hear Kegan’s response because the compact mirror started to glow and heat up in her back pocket. She whipped it open as she got it out and was greeted by Bradley’s nervous face. It was unsettling to see him looking so nervous and helpless. He’d never been as horrible as the other people who’d controlled Cedarstone over the years, but he’d still exuded an air of power. That was gone now.
“Clara, where’s your father?”
“He’s busy. What’s up?” said Clara. She saw Kegan prick up on the desk, but he wasn’t interested enough to come over.
“Eloise has teams stationed at all the power points in town,” he said.
“Power points?”
“Places where the most power is gathered. The Royce house in werewolf territory, Morgan’s, your house and Blackwood’s house,” he explained.
“Hang on, this house is cloaked,” said Clara, panicking that the spell was broken.
“Yes, they can’t see the house, but they know where it should be and they’re stationed on the street. Eloise isn’t going to wait for the evacuations to be completed before she starts killing. The teams have devices that tell them how much power is present in an area so they know when someone is weak enough to overpower.”
“They’ve got iron so why do they need that?”
“Be sensible, Clara,” he said impatiently. “A bit of iron isn’t going to be a great defence against a massive amount of magic. Eloise has already seen that she and her soldiers aren’t invulnerable thanks to your visit to my office.”
“Good point,” said Clara, though she didn’t appreciate the reprimand.
“They’ve also got satellites to listen in on the places they’re watching. They can’t hear what’s going on in your house, courtesy of the cloaking spell, but I’ve seen transcripts from Morgan’s, the Royce House and Blackwood’s house. They’re also keeping an eye on other coven member’s houses, though they’re not being as vigilant.” Clara was surprised that they were able to listen in on Nick’s conversations, but then somebody as arrogant as him wouldn’t feel the need to put up protective spells.
“There’s a most wanted list as well, which you are on,” Bradley continued. “You, your father, Adam Kent, Richard Morgan, James Tenson and Nickolas Blackwood. Agents are gathering more names to be added to the list. Eloise’s intelligence is a little out of date, she still had Eric Royce on it until I informed her he’d left town.” Bradley seemed a little smug about knowing something that Eloise did not.
“So when do the attacks start?” Clara asked. She needed to know how much time she had left to prepare.
“First opportunity. Like I said, they’ll strike if they sense the power levels fall low enough. When it comes to non-sorcerers they’re waiting for large numbers to gather so they can kill as many as possible. They’re not as cautious with werewolves and vampires, it’s the sorcerers they’re scared of the most.”
“Large groups,” Clara repeated, the colour draining from her face as she recalled the group that was meeting right now.
“The Pack,” Kegan said, jumping off the desk.
Clara closed the mirror and bolted from the room.
“Clara, wait! If we go outside the soldiers will attack us!” Kegan shouted, chasing her down the stairs.
“What’s going on?” Bianca asked, emerging from the living room. Clara threw the mirror to her which she just managed to catch.
“Get my father on this mirror, warn him there’s soldiers outside the house and he needs to find a way to sneak in when he’s done with Adam. Adam’s probably being watched too.” She didn’t stop moving as she barked her orders. She burst into the garage and placed her palms on her father’s Jaguar. It was the car he’d always been reluctant to use, he never wanted to risk it coming to any harm. That hardly mattered now, though. She willed a cloaking spell to cover it. She knew how to do the spell but she’d never done one on anything large. She felt her power shift into the vehicle and would just have to hope for the best.
“Get in,” she told Kegan a
s she jumped in. He slipped in next to her and before he’d even closed his door she was racing away. “When exactly is the meeting?”
He looked at his watch and shook his head. “Ten minutes ago.”
The journey to the Royce House was a twenty-minute one, but Clara made it in twelve. She skidded to a halt a few meters from the house and sighed with relief. Everything was calm. “They’re not here yet,” she said and opened her door. Kegan grabbed her forearm and she stopped. She could sense his fear.
“Look,” he said. She followed his finger and saw what she’d missed. The road turned into a smaller street and down there Clara saw several military vehicles.
“No,” she whispered. No sooner had she said the word when the front doors of the mansion burst open and a stream of soldiers came storming out. Each of them was spattered with blood, some of them were absolutely dripping.
“Fuck,” said Kegan, full despair taking him.
Soldier after soldier poured out of the house. When the last one made it to the street outside he fell in line with the other soldiers, all of them facing the house. The tallest one of them was about six foot two. He had short brown hair on top and the back and sides were completely shaved. His face was square, hard-looking and clean shaved. His eyes were narrow and squinty and despite the layers of clothes he wore, Clara could tell he was heavily muscles beneath.
“Draw!” the man shouted and each soldier withdrew a small object from their webbing. Grenades. “Fire!” each of the soldiers launched their grenade at the house. Their aim was perfect, the devices smashed through the windows and within seconds each one exploded. It didn’t take long for the house to be a blaze. If any had survived the initial attack they certainly wouldn’t survive this.
“Go,” Kegan said quietly. Clara didn’t argue. She put the car in reverse and got out of there as fast as she could. Eloise’s genocide plan had begun.
Arthur was on his back on the damp stone floor, looking up at the moss covered ceiling as Adam’s cage sapped his energy away. He knew that if he didn’t escape soon then it would too late.
“I’ve been wondering something,” he said quietly. “How did you do that spell to get the note in my pocket?” Arthur did not know that spell and it would be pretty useful under the current circumstances.
“I taught myself. It’s like you always said, with enough power and will you can do anything with magic.” The bunker fell back into silence and Arthur returned his focus on the ceiling. He closed his eyes and tried to feel how much magic he had left. Enough to fight Adam? Possibly, but he’d have to do so soon. Ten minutes or so and it would be too late.
“I thought we were friends,” he said weakly, turning his head to face Adam.
“I thought so too,” said Adam in a hushed voice, he was standing in too much shadow to read his expression. The only light was coming from the glow of the crystals around Arthur, it meant that everything inside the cage was lit up beautifully, but everything beyond was in darkness.
“So what did I do to deserve this?” asked Arthur.
“What did you do?” Adam said, his anger unhidden. “You are responsible for everything. I pledged my loyalty to you because I trusted you to save us. But you couldn’t even save yourself. Nicole told me again and again to walk away, but I chose you because I trusted you. I sacrificed… everything.” Hearing his angry voice but being unable to see him made Arthur nervous. He propped himself up in case an attack came.
“When you died I stepped in and took the reigns for you. I lost my wife…. My son. I even lost my own body. But I did all those things in the name of your cause.” Anger turned to despair with each word he spoke and then Adam fell silent. The silence was uncomfortable, more so than the complaints, but Arthur dared not break it. When Adam spoke again he spoke with a steady voice, on the brink of rage. “And what did you do when you came back, Arthur?” Adam stepped into the light. His eyes were wide and alive with fury. His tear-stained face was full of blood. “You pushed me aside. You took the one thing I had left. You didn’t thank me for holding the fort for you.”
“A true dynast doesn’t need to be thanked for doing his duty,” said Arthur, insulted by Adam’s comment.
“A true dynast? I was a truer dynast than you ever was! I gave more to the coven than you ever did!” he screamed wildly.
“I gave my own life!” Arthur shouted back, although his shout was far weaker than Adam’s. His strength was fading. “My father and my wife! How dare you say that you gave more than I did. Whilst we’re on the subject of what I did when I returned from the dead, let’s not forget who saved you from Henry Montford. If I hadn’t turned up you’d be dead right now.”
“I wouldn’t have needed saving if it wasn’t for you. I only went to Montford Manor to try and get power to fight Nickolas Blackwood who you freed with another of your brilliant ideas.”
“Oh, enough,” Arthur said, tired of the accusations. “You were never a true member of this Coven and you could never truly be dynast. I mean seriously, what are you next to me anyway?” As the words fell of Arthur’s tongue he felt sullied, but it was for the good of them both that he said it. “Look at you. Pathetic. Weak. Your own wife didn’t listen to a word you said, she did what she wanted and you had to live with it. You didn’t even get a say in the raising of that kid. I doubt he ever saw you as much of a dad, not compared to his real dad.” Arthur watched as his words cut into Adam and they brought up more of the inferno that was lurking right beneath his skin. “You couldn’t even run your own household so how could you ever expect to run my Coven? The reason your family is dead is because you weren’t strong enough to save them. You let Montford kill them.”
Adam let out a primal scream as he kicked one of the crystals aside and charged at Arthur, his hands glowing with magic. As soon as the crystal was gone the cage vanished and Arthur could feel his strength returning. He threw a spell at Adam which in his range he was powerless to avoid. The spell hit him square in the chest. Adam flew up into the air where he was held suspended for several seconds. His eyes widened in shock as his limbs were pulled out away from him. Then he shuddered and fell in an unconscious heap on the ground.
“I’m sorry Adam,” Arthur whispered, not that Adam could hear him. Warmth in his pocket let him know that Clara was calling him on the mirror. He pulled it out and was surprised to see Bianca looking back at him. “What’s going on?”
“Clara told me to tell you that there are soldiers watching the house even though they can’t see it so you need to find a way to sneak past them,” she said nervously. The poor girl was always nervous lately.
“That’s fine, my car’s cloaked well enough to get past,” he said dismissively. “Why are you telling me and not Clara?”
Bianca gulped and Arthur knew it was bad. “The soldiers are attacking the Pack. She went to save them.” Arthur closed the mirror and made for the door. Then he stopped. Clara was a grown woman. He had to trust her to look after herself. If he kept trying to keep her out of danger then he’d spend all his time watching her and not getting things done. Right now he needed to focus on Adam and trust that Clara could handle herself. With great difficulty he turned back to Adam and chose to let Clara handle the Pack on her own. He snatched the four crystals up off the floor, thinking they might be useful soon, and stuffed them in his pockets. Then he began hoisting Adam up off the floor. Once Adam was slumped over his shoulder, Arthur made his way out of the bunker and back to his car.
Chapter 12
Finding Kayla was proving more difficult than Nick had initially anticipated and his lack of progress did nothing for his ego. It took two days before he realised that the best answer was the simplest — a locater spell. He’d tried every complicated spell he could think of and nothing had produced even the slightest result. Nick did not doubt that whoever had taken Kayla would have cloaked her, but he would be able to overpower whatever defences they’d conjured. The only way to guarantee the spell would work was to use something belongi
ng to Kayla and the only place Nick knew he would find such a thing was in Elysium.
Olivia agreed to the plan immediately. Nick had found that she was perfectly happy to go along with anything so long as she though he was doing what she deemed as right. Getting to Elysium wasn’t as simple as Nick would have liked. Kayla had spent extensive time and power on hiding the island from everyone except those she wanted to find it. Nick and Set had got around those defences before using a compass which Kayla had created. This meant that Nick could remember how to get there but he couldn’t teleport there. Luckily, he was a smart guy. He teleported as close to the island as he could and then flew the rest of the way, with Olivia in his arms. Flight was not a skill he could teach Olivia, it took an inordinate amount of power for a human to pull it off. Holding her in his arms was the closest they’d been since the night he’d resurrected her. It was nice to feel the touch of her skin on his. Despite the issues they’d been faced with he still loved her and he believed she still loved him. If not than all of this was for nothing.
Nick landed at the base of the steps to the temple and helped Olivia to steady herself. Once steady, she took a couple of steps back and tidied her hair as best she could without a brush as if her appearance mattered in a temple void of people. She looked at the trees behind Nick and smiled reminiscently.
“What?” Nick asked. He looked at the edge of the forest thinking she might have seen something.
“That’s the place I was standing the first time I saw you,” she said fondly. He turned and looked.
“I remember,” he said as the memory flooded his mind. She’d been standing there with a basket. Both of them just fourteen years old. What a happy time that had been. Nick had been practicing swordsmanship with Set at the time.
“Let’s do what we came for,” he said and headed up the steps.
Nick tried not to look around too much as he passed through the halls of the temple. He’d been assaulted by memories last time he’d been here and he had no desire to experience them again. He went up to Kayla’s rooms, but as soon as he saw the small table by the window he was reminded of the time she’d assured him there was no way for him to become a sorcerer without taking another life. She’d lied. She’d had the Promethean Flame in her vault below the temple all along. A single spark from the Flame could have granted him magic. He wondered how different things might have been had she given him a spark. Would he have still fallen prey to Set’s scheme? It hardly mattered now. He stormed across the room and snatched up the silver hairbrush from the dresser. The brush would make a perfect locator object.