by Paul Sobol
Toying, or testing?
For the briefest of moments she hesitated, and her opponent’s strike forced her back. Breathless, Archer tried to avoid the flurry of attacks that came her way, but as a wave of light-headedness threatened to overcome her she realised she had no option but to rely on magic.
A green-tinged barrier of energy appeared in the space between the two combatants. It wasn’t much, but it would buy her much needed time to recover. Looking across the clearing, Archer studied her opponent more closely. The armour, while made of the finest quality leather and reinforced with silver studs, looked worn and well-used. He was wearing proper battle-gear, not the decorative costumes reserved for ceremonies and celebrations; therefore the helm was designed to throw her off.
She had just fallen for the oldest trick, and now Archer knew who opposed her. “Well met, Weapons Master.”
On the other side of the shield the elf gave a courtier’s bow while at the same time removing the helm. “Pardon the theatrics, but I believe you know why it was necessary.”
“To see how I would function under such circumstances.”
“Not just these circumstances, but every encounter. You are quick to anger, and often your emotions cloud judgement, but that is perhaps a weakness from your human side.”
“Emotions are not a weakness!” she flared back. “Love, compassion, selflessness, these drive us to do great things, even miracles.”
“And what about anger, hatred, contempt? For what purpose do they serve?”
“These emotions can steel ones resolve and commit us to a course of action.”
“Even if it destroys you?”
“Personal victory is not always desired. The interest and welfare of the majority must also be taken into account.”
“The greater good?”
“If need be, I am willing to lay down my life pursuing a higher cause other than personal glory…or vengeance.”
The Weapons Master stood still, arms folded as he contemplated his student across the clearing. The green barrier of energy hummed almost imperceptivity, even to the acute hearing of an elf. He knew why she had needed it, and had it served any purpose he could just as easily torn it asunder. “Against a full-blood you are handicapped, but that was already known. Your fighting skills are excellent, and although we don’t normally use magic during these trials it was more for your benefit.”
“So it was pity that made you go so easy on me?” She couldn’t help but put a little anger behind her words.
“The true test was in your ability to adapt to the situation. As the circumstances changed so did your style of fighting, until you were left with only one option: to use magic. Had this been a traditional test of skill you would have failed, and that was never my intentions.”
“Have I chosen the wrong path?” she asked after a moment of thought. With a wave of her hand the green barrier dissolved in a shower of sparkling energy and the two faced each other.
His reply was not what she had expected to hear. “There is but one path to travel, the one laid before your feet. From a very young age you have always striven to be the best at whatever you do, always comparing yourself against your full-blooded brothers. The human blood of your mother is not a weakness. In some ways it has made you better, even though you may not see it just yet.”
“Master, I realise now the Council will never allow a half-blood to join the Elite Guard. Perhaps it would be best if I chose another path rather than the one laid out for me.”
“Aellendeliir,” he replied, using her elven name, “your place is here. The Council of Elders would seriously consider your application for the Elite. You just need to give it some time. Traditions are rarely changed overnight, and for those of us who have lived several centuries change can be difficult. Continue your training here, but if your wish is to leave then do so with my blessing. The world of the humans is strange, even barbaric by comparison, but I’m sure you will find your way.”
Together they walked from the glade. Archer was still determined to prove herself, but that seemed impossible amongst her own full-blood people. Maybe she was meant to spend time with the humans before returning, and perhaps then she would be worthy of acceptance to the Elite Guard.
Chapter Eleven
The urgent knock on the door woke Alex from his sleep.
Over the past few days he had mastered the art of sleeping light – never knowing when Archer wanted him to participate in another of her ‘training sessions’. She had already put him through several torturous challenges designed to test his limits, often occurring at random times, day or night. The last session began just after midnight and lasted well until the sun was high above. Lack of sleep and general fatigue slowly wore away at Alex’s strength, but despite the gruelling trials he had managed to pass them, if only by the narrowest of margins.
The knocking continued and Alex realised this time was different. Archer didn’t bother to make sure he got out of bed, if he was late for a test it didn’t end well for him. Instead she spoke through the heavy wooden door. “Pack your things, we’re leaving soon.” With that she retreated back to her room.
Dressed and ready in less than a minute Alex opened the door expecting some kind of emergency. As usual Archer was waiting for him outside. Noticing several bags lying beside the jeep he considered dumping his own pack on top. On second thought, maybe not, considering she often packed various explosives for emergency situations. “Seems someone is in a rush this morning,” he said, climbing into the passenger seat.
“Shut up and hang on to something,” responded Archer as the jeep’s engine roared to life. The peacefulness of night was shattered and nearby sleeping birds took up a raucous cry in protest.
Twin beams of light illuminated the surrounding area, and as the jeep surged forward Alex knew something was wrong. Speeding through the shadowed forest Archer drove as though every second counted, but once past the invisible barriers she did slow down a little. “Archer, you’re driving like a maniac. Is there anything I should know about?”
“You might want to close your eyes for this next bit!”
Blue energy swirled around the speeding jeep and Alex realised what was about to happen. They were going to teleport. The sensation of instantaneous travel was nothing new to the young magician, but for a split second the human mind cannot comprehend the space travelled between two points. So rather than risk slipping into madness it was easier to shut out the image altogether.
The cool night air rushing past their faces changed suddenly.
Opening his eyes tentatively, Alex saw tall concrete buildings dominating the horizon. Having left the forest far behind them, they soon entered suburbia and eventually drove down empty city streets. A distant church bell rang and Alex counted the chimes. Three o’clock seemed the loneliest time, when everyone was safely tucked away in their bed, dreaming of good times and bad.
Stopping in front of their building they were met by two men at the door. They looked like government agents dressed in black suits. If it wasn’t for the distinctive glow of mana surrounding them Alex wouldn’t have given either a second look on the street. Like vigilant hawks the two men in black constantly looked around, as though scanning the area for potential threats.
Mounting the stairs Alex felt a tingle pass over his skin as though he had walked through a very strong protective shield. Glancing at Archer she replied with the slightest of nods. The door closed silently behind the two, and even the elevator ride to the top floor was without its usual tricks. At least the house knows what’s going on, thought Alex.
The common room was a hive of bustling activity. Alex had never seen so many magicians in one place and in such close proximity to each other. The amount of power in the room was almost palpable. Entering alongside Archer, a few heads turned their way. Silver’s voice rose above the din and all attention was back to him. “We’ve just received confirmation, the Gathering has commenced, and all the signs point to this Friday night. Tha
t gives us less than two days to find the location and disrupt whatever is about to happen.”
Knowing better than to interrupt with pointless questions Alex asked in a lowered voice “What is he talking about?”
“The Gathering; it happens every decade or so,” Archer answered in a whisper, “when dark forces converge to celebrate the death of one of their unholy brethren. Several hundred years ago a powerful necromancer called Khaldun was exiled to one of the sub-realms. The Dark calendar is full of festivals and holidays to minor evil doers, but the anniversary of Khaldun’s demise has been celebrated for a long time. In the past it has usually been pretence for orgies and dark rites, but occasionally someone tries something stupid like resurrecting the bastard.”
“He’s that bad?” Alex asked.
“Khaldun was single-handedly responsible for a lot of the world’s worst plagues. Before his banishment he created devastating plagues that ravaged Europe a few hundred years ago. The Black Death was one his nastier creations. It took over a hundred magicians to finally bring it under control, but not after the death toll had risen to several million. Each life he took made him stronger, and of the hundred magicians who fought against him barely a handful survived the onslaught.”
“Split into teams of two,” Silver continued the groups debrief. “The Gathering has mostly been held in the countryside, usually a large forest far from prying eyes. Use any contacts you have, follow any scrap of information you hear, we need to know the exact location. Remain in contact every hour either with another group or with those here at headquarters. I don’t have to remind you how important this is, not just to us, but the entire world. We can’t afford to have the monster unleashed again.”
The debriefing over, magicians paired off and began filing from the room, those remaining talked together about strategy and possible leads to follow. Archer made her way over to Silver. The discussion he was having with several Order members was primarily about possible Gathering locations. Unfortunately too many suggestions proved just as likely as the next.
Germany, Russia, even Northern China were all possibilities. With such large areas the search would be near impossible unless they happened across some reliable intel.
Noticing Archer he politely gestured for those gathered to begin working on their respective assignments. “How was the training session? Sorry for cutting it short but we need you both for this.”
“Understandably,” she replied. “Alex’s training is coming along nicely; he should prove a useful asset to the Order one day. As for the festival, I may have some information. A few days ago we fought a band of migrating vampires. Only problem was they didn’t stick around to be killed.”
“It’s not like vampires to skulk away like that, not unless they had something more important to attend to. Do you have any idea which way they were heading?”
“West, maybe Pennsylvania or further to Ohio or Illinois. They had recently gorged on blood thus allowing them to move about during the daytime. Vampires only do that for a very good reason, and if time was limited their destination wouldn’t be too far away. If this vampire migration has anything to do with the Gathering, then maybe we should ask the werewolves for possible information.”
“Good point. There are several tribes located around Pennsylvania, so the vampires would either have to go around or risk running into more trouble. Soaring Eagle is our best contact with the lycans, I’ll send word to him as soon as possible. I want you and Alex to stay close. If the vampires know about the Gathering then maybe someone local knows something. Kick over a few rocks and see what you can find out.”
Chapter Twelve
“Archer, why are we going to a nightclub, during the day?”
“This is no ordinary club. It operates twenty-four seven for a select clientele. Most are normal people, shift workers or die-hard clubbers who don’t care what time of the day it is, as long as the drinks are cold and the music is loud. But it’s also a haven for other nocturnal predators, so there’s bound to be someone here who has the information we need.”
“Clubs like this would have security, I know, I worked in a few similar places years ago. And if vampires are involved I doubt they’ll let us just walk in and start asking questions.”
“True, but I know the owner of the club, and he owes me a big favour.” Archer stopped in front of a large nondescript building. They had been walking for a while now, mostly in silence, but Alex had often wondered why they were taking such a round-about way to reach this final destination.
The building was located on the lower West side, a stone’s throw away from Wall Street. They had passed businessmen in expensive suits, trudging to work, scurrying like worker ants from underground subway stations. But for all the hustle and bustle of a New York street no one entered this lone building. Alex would even go so far as to say they avoided looking at the steel and glass monstrosity.
“It doesn’t look like a nightclub.”
“That’s exactly what they want you to think. Vampires have been hiding in plain sight, under our very noses, but as long as their numbers don’t get too large we’ve been content to leave them alone in peace. Sure we could destroy every last one of their hideouts here in New York, but then the vampires would go underground and disappear, coming out only to feed and harass the humans. At least we know what they’re up to and can control it as best we can.”
“So you have no qualms about them killing humans?”
Archer gave Alex a look, as though to say he was very, very wrong. “In this day of modern technology they don’t need to feed on humans. Vampires have cornered the market in synthetic blood as well as most of the major blood banks. However, if any go on a feeding spree we won’t hesitate to eliminate the scum.”
The main entry doors slid silently open and a young man stumbled out into the world of sunshine and fresh air. Bloodshot eyes, the dishevelled state of his clothes, the added fragrance of stale beer, all told a tale of epic partying. But as usual, time to crawl back to whichever hole he came from and get some much needed sleep, before doing it all over again tomorrow.
The foyer beyond was typical of the corporate scene – fake marble tiles on the floor and walls, cheap art deco lamps, and several dull elevators whose black buttons had almost worn away. Of the thirty floors to choose from, Archer pressed B.
Of course it had to be in the basement.
A soft rattling could be heard behind the closed, scuffed elevator doors. The noise increasingly got louder until it suddenly stopped. The doors slowly clanked open as though unwilling to admit any more passengers, and as the two cautiously stepped into the confined space the dim lights flickered. Hoping this antiquated machinery was capable of at least a few more journeys, Alex couldn’t help but say a silent prayer for their immediate survival. It would be just his luck to be taken out by an elevator, not to mention the unknown number of vampires possibly holed up below.
“I suppose we should also look the part,” said Archer, giving Alex a sideways look. The t-shirt and denim jeans he preferred suddenly changed to black. Studded bands appeared around his wrists as well as one around his throat. Chains draped around his torso and attached themselves to his wristbands, and while the getup looked restrictive Alex still had complete mobility.
A mirror reflection appeared in the air before the two and he was surprised at how different they now looked. Dressed completely in dark clothes, resplendent with silver crosses and chains and multiple piercings, Archer and Alex wore the disguise of hard-core Goths. The illusion was so details they even sported intricate tattoos winding around their necks, and even the skull earrings had small glinting rubies for eyes.
“I’d be impressed, but I know you’ve been here before, and I can imagine this is what you dress up in.” But Alex could only smile and appreciate Archer’s masterful attempt at blending in with the clientele who often frequented this club. Known as Underworld, it was the local Goth scene, which made it the perfect hangout for vampires and their i
lk. Although there was no strict dress code, people wearing ‘normal’ clothes were often shunned and held in contempt by those who felt more comfortable in black eyeliner, studded collars and black nail polish.
The elevator shuddered to a halt, its doors groaning open, and once again empty of living occupants returned to its usual state of atrophy.
The sound of loud techno music could be heard coming from nearby. The basement turned out to be a maze-like series of concrete corridors leading in every direction. Pipes of all sizes snaked along the ceiling, carrying everything from water, gas, electricity, even waste. Unerringly, Archer took off down one corridor, and after several twists and turns they finally reached the source of the music – a single red door.
Standing next to the door was a large man. Judging by his size Alex guessed he weighed over three hundred pounds, and all of that was pure muscle. Definitely human, the bouncer was smartly attired in a black suit that, although expertly tailored, bulged in a few awkward places. Alex didn’t need x-ray vision to know the man was packing serious heat. Probably a 9mm, or something small and compact tucked in behind the jacket, with another gun hidden in an ankle holster. Familiar with the other clientele of this club, the bouncer would also have a blade weapon, most likely silver, as backup.
Striding purposefully forward as though they were regular patrons, Archer and Alex approached the red door. As expected, the bouncer merely took a half-step to his right and almost blocked the entire doorway. One giant beefy paw held out, he silently waited as Archer dug around inside her black coat. It didn’t take long for her to locate whatever he wanted, and Alex saw her pass over a black business card. Apparently satisfied with the small token the bouncer stepped aside.
Passing the giant, Alex couldn’t help but take a quick glance using his mage-sight. What he glimpsed almost broke his composure. The man was wreathed in black and red energy; his aura flamed and distorted as though he were being burned alive. A slight touch on his hand warned him to silence, and he accompanied Archer through the red door and down into madness.