‘And I presume you know why you’re here?’
‘Like I said, I’ve got some kind of message in my head. You lot need it out, but can’t do that without me being trained, whatever that means.’
‘That’s pretty much the sum of it,’ the man said.
‘Are you the one who’s going to train me?’
The man nodded. ‘Of a fashion. I’m going to steer you in the direction you need. You are going to do the training. At the end of the day only you can do this. No one else.’
The man left the table and gathered the remaining parchments into a large satchel, reminiscent of the packs Seb had seen in art class - when he’d actually bothered to turn up. ‘Now, let’s not tarry, we’ve got deliveries to make today and I’m behind already.’
The man shuffled off to a rusted hook in the wall where a thick overcoat hung. Seb winced at the curved metal, wondering what it had been used for in its former life.
‘What’s your name?’ Seb said, his voice trailing off as the man ventured towards the stairs.
‘Caleb,’ Caleb said, not slowing. ‘Now come on, we need to get a move on.’
Chapter 13
Seb followed Caleb back out of the Drain, as Caleb called his place of work and dwelling, and back onto the ground floor of the mansion. They made their way down the corridor towards the reception hall. No one else crossed their paths as they progressed.
‘Where is everyone?’
‘What do you mean, everyone?’
‘Isn’t this some kind of academy? I thought other members of this Magistry came here to be trained in whatever it is you do. Don said there were only six here, which doesn’t seem like many for a place this size.’
Caleb laughed then, but it was without humour. ‘Look around, kid, take it all in. Does this look like a place that’s thriving?’
Seb glanced at the bare walls, the threadbare carpets. Once upon a time he imagined Skelwith might’ve been something splendid, now it looked like one step away from being claimed by the National Trust.
‘Nope.’
‘No.’
‘No. Once upon a time we’d have fifty here. The finest from all the Families. Now though we have just six, from those who couldn’t afford their own resident trainer. Well, six and one outcast.’ Caleb said, ending the sentence with a wink.
They arrived at the front door. Caleb turned to face him, the bag of scrolls clutched against his chest. He backed against the wood, both doors opening out into the drive. It had been raining; the gravel had turned a dark grey and a sweet scent hung in the air. Seb breathed it in as they stepped outside, savouring the freshness as it washed more of the city away from him.
‘You not used to the great outdoors?’ Caleb said as they trudged across the gravel towards a sea-green van that had obviously seen better days.
‘It’s great,’ Seb replied, surprised at his own honesty. ‘I didn’t think I’d like it in the countryside. It’s not somewhere I’ve been to before.’
Caleb yanked open the doors of the van and tossed the bag inside. Seb covered his mouth to stifle a cough as a plume of dust billowed out.
‘Well,’ Caleb said, slamming the doors shut. ‘Make the most of this feeling. Once it wears off you’ll soon learn what the countryside is really like. It’s cold, wet, and stinks.’
Seb smiled as he followed Caleb’s indication and got into the passenger seat. Caleb got in the driver’s side. The glove box was open and Seb caught a glimpse of some kind of firearm there, part covered by a dirty rag. Caleb saw him looking and slammed it shut.
‘Phosphorous,’ he said. ‘The sheol hate it.’
An image of the white explosion on the night Cade had saved him sprang to mind. ‘It kills them?’
‘And then some. If it hits somewhere near the light will blind them at worst, stun them into a coma at best. If you blast one with this at close range you’ll incinerate the little shit.’
‘You ever had to use it?’
‘In the old days, hardly ever. Nowadays, too much.’
The van shuddered into life and Caleb steered over the gravel towards the drive that led out of the grounds. As they moved, Seb stared at the massive stone warriors that loomed over the perimeter, sure that they were watching him with eyes of granite. The sensation made him shudder, and he turned back, eyes on the road.
‘Where are we going?’ he said as they descended the track that led back down to the B road. Although the sentinels were far behind now, the forest still seemed to watch them go, as if unseen eyes peered out from the gloom. He couldn’t feel anything, but recent experiences showed how little that meant.
‘Making money. Keeping this place afloat.’
‘How do we do that with scrolls?’
‘We lend them,’ Caleb said, steering the vehicle onto a road that had once seen tarmac. ‘There are people, very rich people I should add, in this society that pay dearly to study the secrets that the Magistry has. It gives them a glimpse of another world, one that doesn’t exist in the everyday.’
‘And what do they do with this knowledge?’
‘Very little. Learn, mainly. None of those we lend our archives to are Latent, but that doesn’t stop them wanting to know more. Many of these people have keen and inquisitive minds, and when they wont for nothing, what else is there for them?’
Seb shrugged. ‘I just thought the rich just wanted to get richer.’
‘Most do, it’s a human failing. Some though, and by this I mean a very, very small minority, manage to rise above it all. They desire knowledge, nothing more. In return we provide it, for a small financial recompense of course.’
‘Are you not afraid they’ll expose you all? Expose this secret world?’
‘They could try, but we have several safe guards in place. Mainly though, it’s the Consensus that does that for us.’
‘The what?’
Caleb sighed. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘We might as well get started. You listen whilst I drive. We’ve got an hour before we get to the first drop.
‘I’m listening.’
‘Let me give you the history first. The history of the Magistry in abridged version.’
‘I’d like that.’
‘Some of this will sound crazy. It did to me. Hell, some of it still does. But bear with me. Understanding the nuances of this new world you find yourself in will be key to progressing, and it might just keep you alive.’
‘Keep me alive. That’s good; I’m always about the keeping alive thing.’
Caleb snorted.
‘Once, many thousands of years ago, the universe we inhabit now was much bigger. Many civilisations lived side by side in relative peace. Uniting the various factions was a common group of people. These individuals were what we now call Latent, and they were the first to access the Weave. From these people were formed the first magi.
‘The strongest amongst these were the brothers, Danu and Balor. Although it is lost to the annals of history, these were credited with finding the Great Forge, the source of the Weave, and hence all of reality.’
Seb whistled. ‘Wow, so these two were like God then, if they created the Weave?’
‘Not created, found. They found the Forge, but someone else had built that.’
‘Who?’
‘We never found out.’
Caleb slowed down at a large roundabout that fed onto a main A road. He paused, waiting for a gap in traffic before slotting in. When the van was in lane and back up to speed, he continued:
‘The brothers were wise, and they trained others who shared their affinity for the Weave, those who could sense its workings as it rendered the reality we all see. The magi numbered in the thousands, and they existed across many worlds, all bound by a common code of conduct.’
‘I’m guessing this took a turn for the worst?’
Caleb sighed. ‘As with all great civilisations, even one with individuals as great and as wise as Danu and Balor at their head, there will come times when they are tested. Unfor
tunately, the test that befell them would prove to be their undoing.
‘Danu and Balor were driven by a thirst for knowledge. Balor perhaps more so than his brother. They pushed the Weave to its limits, increasing their knowledge, seeking to uncover the very secrets of creation. It was during this time that they first encountered Nazgath, and the sheol.’
‘Who were they?’
‘It was Balor who encountered them first. He succeeded in creating a portal into another realm, the first Way in fact.’
‘Way?’
‘Later. Balor travelled to this realm, what we now know as Umbra, and met Nazgath, the leader of the sheol. Nazgath possessed abilities that Balor had never seen, and the two became close friends, sharing their immense knowledge of the Weave.’
Seb raised both hands. ‘Wait a minute, I’ve seen these sheol, they weren’t nice people. They had black eyes and fangs and claws that rip the flesh from your bones. How could anyone be friends with them?’
Caleb nodded slowly. ‘What you are referring is what we now know as the Great Deception. You see the sheol are fiends and tricksters, and Nazgath was the greatest trickster of them all. Umbra was not just another realm. It was a prison, one made for the sheol by others long since gone. Balor was deceived by them, but Danu was not. He saw through their disguise, saw the fiends for what they were. He challenged Balor on this, but by then his brother had become too enthralled in their spell to listen to reason. He turned away from Danu, and it was that break that allowed Nazgath to act.
‘With the knowledge taken from Balor, the sheol and their dark magi were able to rip holes all over Aura.’
‘Aura?’
‘The one universe.’
‘Right.’
‘Their hordes poured forwards. Thousands of them, overrunning world after world. The magi fought, but they were too small in number. For every hundred sheol they slew, thousands more poured forwards. They surged towards the Forge in the centre of all reality.’
Something wet dripped off Seb’s chin. He slammed his mouth shut, realising he was dripping saliva from a jaw that had well and truly dropped.
‘This is some deep shit.’
‘The deepest.’
‘What happened?’
‘Balor could not act. His mind was broken by what had happened, by what he had let happen. Danu tried to rouse him but he could not. Instead, he made a decision that would forever change the entire universe. He destroyed it.’
‘He what?’
‘He summoned all the Weave energy he could, his body becoming a vessel that channelled directly from the Forge itself. With Nazgath at the gates of Temperos, he unleashed this energy, and cracked the universe into many different pieces. What we now call the Shards.’
Seb sat in silence. A light rain had started to fall. Caleb put the wipers on, the rubber squeaking on the barely wet windscreen.
‘What happened then? What’s the deal with the Magistry, and Earth, where does this all fit in?’
‘You are quick, Seb, I’ll give you that,’ Caleb said. ‘Danu had foreseen the fall of Aura. His power was great, his sense the greatest of all Latent. Before the sheol forces made their way to Temperos he summoned to him his most loyal magi, the greatest of his order. He told them of what would happen, that the end was nigh. He gave to them the founding principles of the Magistry, and with the last vestiges of his energy, he created a Way that sent them to the farthest reaches of Aura. When he cracked the universe, these magi found themselves on a Shard untouched by the sheol. They were on a world like many they had seen before, but one where the connection to the Weave was weak.’
‘Earth. Our universe.’
‘Bingo.’
‘But what about the Brotherhood, and Sarah, they said she’d been on a mission. Where? Another shard?’
‘Later, Seb. We’re here now.’
‘Where’s here?’
Seb masked the disappointment at having their conversation cut short as they trundled up a seemingly endless drive that finished at one of the finest houses he’d ever seen. If Skelwith was a mansion, then this was a palace.
The van slowed as two men in suits with rather ominous looking bulges in their jackets stepped out in front of them. Caleb wound the window down as one of the men came to his side. Seb stared forward, his heart fluttering like a caged canary under the scrutiny of the other man, who watched him with a steady eye.
‘You’re late, Caleb.’ The man said.
‘What can I say, the traffic’s a bitch. Now, are you going to let me in or am I going to tell the big man that you’re holding up the item he’s been waiting for the last two years.’
The man’s face flickered for a heartbeat. His mouth dropped, his eyebrows raised. The movement was brief, barely an instant, before the blank veneer returned.
‘You have it? The Night Song?’
Caleb nodded. ‘Fully translated.’
The man’s professional demeanour nearly melted. The excitement came off him in waves. Without further hesitation he stepped back and waved them on.
‘What’s the Night Song?’ Seb said as they drove past.
‘An ancient manuscript. One of the few surviving documents that made the Crossing. I’ve been trying to track it down for years. It’s a journal written by a mage – Lasander – who was apparently based at Temperos when Nazgath attacked. Many people considered it a hoax, whereas some thought it one of the most precious historical documents across all of the shards.
‘And is it?’
‘Is it what?’
‘A hoax?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve never read it.’
They came to a stop in a tarmacked area just to the left of the mansion, parking next to a massive garage where some of the doors were open, displaying a showroom full of various exotic looking sports cars. As they trudged across the ground towards the side door Seb noticed the tennis courts alongside the houses, and beyond that, an estate that stretched on over the horizon. He tutted and shook his head.
‘Problem?’
‘It’s just another world, isn’t it?’
‘What, this? Boy, this is just eye candy. It’s nothing. Nothing of consequence. Come back to me after a few months with us and then tell me if you still feel the same way.’
They stopped by the side door. Another of the goons stood there, eyeing them impassively. Caleb rang an ornate knocker shaped like a lion’s mouth, the noise echoing round the inside of the house. A moment later the door swung open, creaking on ancient hinges. Another one of the goons faced them. He nodded them in. They walked past, Caleb leading the way on a route he obviously knew.
‘Do they breed these guys in some kind of vat?’
‘Some people are very protective over their security. And considering the things of ours they have, I find the levels of protection quite appropriate.’
Seb fell silent, chastised. Caleb followed the plush carpet to a T-junction before taking a left. They emerged into a large sitting room. A log fire burned, casting shifting shadows on walls covered back to back with books. In the centre was a large, burnished wooden table where more scrolls, similar to those that they carried with them now, lay strewn upon its surface.
At first, as they came to a halt by the table, Seb thought they were alone. Then someone coughed, and an old man, his face lined with age, sat forward in a leather armchair that stood in front of the fire. He had a large glass of some kind of spirit in his shaking hand, which he lowered to a table as he rose. Caleb moved to help him, but the man waved him away.
‘No. Thank you, Caleb, but no. I need to move; otherwise I’ll just meld into this chair.’
The man hobbled over to the table, his mouth curled into an "o" as he grimaced in pain, the movement obviously an effort. He rested worn hands against the edge of the table and let out a shaky breath. His head rose. Seb found himself looking at eyes that were still very much alive.
‘And who do we have here? Don’t tell me you’ve finally taken on an assistant after a
ll these years?’
Caleb laughed. He tipped his head to the table. Seb took the hint and lowered the satchel containing the Night Song onto it.
‘Something like that. He’s going to be staying with us, and working with me. Seb, this is Mr Kollmorgen, one of our most important customers.’
Seb hesitated for a moment. Did he hold his hand out? Stand there and nod? Hell, was he meant to hug the guy? Thankfully, Mr Kollmorgen seemed happy with a simple nod. The older man smiled at him with white teeth that had no right being in someone that age.
‘Seb, eh? Are you from one of the Families?’
‘No. At least, I don’t think so,’ Seb shot a pleading look Caleb’s way. What do I say?
‘Seb is not of the blood. But he is Latent. He had a run in with a mage infiltrator and her pursuers.’
Mr Kollmorgen’s raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh?’
‘Something of nothing I’m sure. However Seb was a witness. We’re keeping him close until we know it’s safe for him to return.’
‘I see,’ Kollmorgen replied. His eyes maintained that same look of concern, but if he sensed that Caleb was holding back he didn’t push it. He shook his head, ‘There’s been a lot of incidents recently, Caleb. A lot indeed. People are starting to talk.’
‘We go through times like this.’ Caleb’s voice had taken on a chill tone.
‘Do we, Caleb? Have you looked outside? Have you seen how many men I have here? How many soldiers I employ at my own expense?’
‘You seem very well protected.’
Kollmorgen slammed the table, the sudden movement making Seb snap to attention.
‘I need to be, Caleb! The artefacts I have, the information I possess. But this many men? In the old days I had one. One bodyguard was all I needed. I had faith in the Brotherhood and the Magistry to protect me in those days. But where are they now?’
Caleb shuffled in his seat. ‘There are many priorities for us, we cannot cover and protect the entire world. There are just not enough of us anymore.’
Message Bearer (The Auran Chronicles Book 1) Page 9