‘What the hell are you?’
Cade knelt next to the dead man. His sense revealed nothing. The man wasn’t Aware at all, yet why was he working with the sheol? Cade checked his pockets, finding nothing. He rolled him onto his back. The man’s head tipped back, face frozen in a rictus of death, and it was then that Cade saw the mark.
What the hell?
He knew some words and runes of Aura, but this was a complete unknown. It was marked in red ink, etched into the side of the man’s neck. He took a photo on his phone and slid it away. This was one for the Lore Keepers.
Cade’s sense flared. He spun about, hand instinctively reaching for the hand crossbow strapped to his thigh.
That figure again. The same one from the park when he’d rescued Seb. It was stood on the roof of an old supermarket on the opposite side of the square, silhouetted against the moon. As he watched, the figure turned and leapt off the building, vanishing from sight.
Chapter 20
‘Hello?’
Seb’s voiced echoed back at him from all angles. The brazier had burned out, and all of a sudden the training chamber seemed strangely ominous. It was too easy to imagine all kinds of horrors lurking in the darkness that seemed without end.
Pull yourself together. What did he expect to find down here?
‘Caleb?’ he said. Caleb hadn’t been at breakfast so he’d assumed he’d come straight to training. It wasn’t the first time he’d had an early morning errand that took him out before the sun was up.
‘Caleb?’
Nothing.
Seb gave one last half-hearted squint into the darkness before turning to leave.
Cade stood right in front of him.
‘Shit!’
‘I thought Caleb had been teaching you Sentio?’ Cade said as he moved past. He held a flaming torch which he dumped into the brazier. At once a warming orange light filled the room, pushing the darkness to its outer reaches.
‘What? He had, why?’ Seb said, shaking the shock of Cade’s abrupt appearance away and turning back.
‘Well, if he had, why did you not know I was there?’
‘It takes a lot out of me. I don’t keep it active all the time,’ Seb said.
‘It’s not good if you use it sporadically,’ Cade said, walking towards the centre of the room. He held something under his other arm, something long, wrapped in a dark cloth.
‘What is that?’
‘What?’
‘Under your arm.’
Cade looked down. He grunted and raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t even know the object was there. ‘This?’
‘Yes,’ Seb said. He followed Cade back to the centre, his attention piqued. ‘Have you banged your head or something recently?’
‘Funny.’
‘What is it then?’
Cade threw the bundle to the floor. Something hard clanked as it hit the stone.
‘Caleb asked me to do him a favour.’
‘Why does this sound ominous?’
Cade smiled. ‘You’re learning quickly.’
‘Go on, put me out of my misery.’
‘Training. Specifically, combat training.’
‘What? Is this part of Sentio?’
Cade squatted. He took hold of one loose end of the bundle. With one tug the bundle unrolled onto the rug, revealing four short wooden sticks.
‘Part of your fast track. Combat training for the magi, if they do it, combines both Sentio and Avatari. By utilising both enhanced senses and physical ability, a mage in theory would become an unbeatable warrior.’
‘You don’t sound convinced.’
‘Let us just say that the Magistry hasn’t been particularly stringent with this particular discipline in recent years.’
‘Why not? I would’ve thought now more than ever would they need skills like this, especially with this whole sheol business.’
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you?’ Cade said. He picked up two of the sticks, one in each hand, and took a step backwards. He nodded downwards, motioning for Seb to do the same. He picked up the remaining sticks and twisted them around in the air.
‘What are these?’
‘They’re called rattan sticks. A weapon used by the martial art eskrima.’
‘These are weapons?’ Seb said. It was hard to believe. The sticks were light, their weight almost imperceptible. How were these weapons?
‘Very effective ones in the right hands.’
‘Why don’t you use guns?’ Seb said, voicing a question that had been bothering him for days.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Against the sheol? What’s with the daggers and throwing stars? With these?’ He waved one of the sticks at Cade. ‘Why not just shoot them?’
‘When a sheol possesses a human they impart certain physical changes to their host.’
Black eyes. Dagger-teeth. Seb shuddered as the images came to mind.
‘Yeah, I remember,’ he said.
‘You do?’
‘I remember those freaks when you picked me up from the hospital. And then the old couple that just turned right in front of us. What is that about, Cade? Why don’t we see that in the everyday world?’
Cade dropped to the mat on the floor and lowered his sticks to one side. He motioned for Seb to do the same.
‘The sheol, at least the sheol here on Earth, exist as wraiths, spirits even. They cannot take a form of their own. The Consensus prevents it.
‘Instead, they prey on the weak minded. Those who are fearful, depressed, clouded in negative emotions are most susceptible to possession.’
‘That sounds scary. Everyone has those to some degree. How come these possessed aren’t running amok?’
‘The Consensus, historically, meant that little if any sheol wraiths could make it into this Shard. Those that did were weak, malformed, and often died with their host. These possessed would appear simply insane, babbling nonsense and with little or no control of their vessels.’
‘But now?’
‘Now they are more numerous. Possessions were rising already, we knew that, but still it was difficult for a sheol to possess a human, only those at the most extreme depths of despair were susceptible. And most of those were only ferals.’
‘Ferals?’
‘Sheol come in many forms. The vast majority are wild, uncontrolled. They are driven purely by the need to kill, to spread chaos and fear. Lesser in number are those that manage to retain some degree of intelligence when they possess a host, such as those who attacked you at the hospital. The ones who possessed the old couple were ferals.’
‘And they were drawn to me because I am Latent?’
‘Like sharks to blood they were drawn. The Weave pulls them in like a beacon. All Latent are at risk from sheol possession, they feed off the Weave-energy these individuals emit.’
Seb nodded. It was all coming together now.
‘Hence the need to develop my shield.’
‘With it up they cannot detect you, or more importantly, possess you.’
‘And what about Clementine?’
‘Who?’
‘The one who killed Sarah.’
‘I’m not sure, if I’m honest. I only got a brief look at him before he fled. He’s not one I’ve encountered previously.’
A thought struck him then. He flinched back, frowning.
‘What a minute, you were there?’
‘Of course. How else do you think I got to you at the hospital?’
‘Right. I didn’t think about that.’
‘Don’t worry. It was a traumatic event you went through. It is fortunate you survived.’ Cade rose and picked up his weapons.
‘Now, back to your question as to why don’t we shoot the sheol. The act of possession also increases physical strength, endurance, resistance to injury. Bullets, whilst damaging the host, don’t do enough to stop them. Instead we use weapons made of silver or iron. The sheol are vulnerable to these elements.’
‘You could use
silver bullets?’
Cade frowned. ‘We do. Sometimes. Unfortunately the nature of our work requires that discretion is mandatory. Firearms are loud, clumsy, and attract attention.’
That brought another question to mind.
‘Why do you work for them?’
Cade’s eyes narrowed to slits.
‘What?’
Oh-oh. ‘I didn’t mean anything by that,’ Seb stammered. ‘I just meant, why do the Brotherhood report to the Magistry? I know you’re not magi, even my shitty sense can tell that. You’re obviously connected to the Weave in some way. I just don’t get why you work for them?’
The silence that followed drifted easily into awkwardness. Cade, jaw clenched, seemed about to respond before seemingly thinking better of it. Instead, he raised his sticks.
‘We’ve done enough talking. Now, show me what you have.’
Before Seb could even draw breath, Cade leapt forwards.
Chapter 21
‘My, my, someone’s been working hard,’ Caleb said, his glasses dropping as he peered up from the open book in front of him. Seb limped past him, step after agonising step. He collapsed into the armchair, the soft leather a comforting arm that absorbed his aching muscles.
‘I think I’m dying,’ Seb said. His muscles throbbed. His bones felt like they’d been broken and reattached.
‘Cade put you through the ringer, did he?’
Seb sat forward, wincing at the twinge in his back. Did he even have muscles there?
‘The guy’s a machine.’
‘He’s one of the finest the Brotherhood have,’ Caleb said. He rose and went to the kettle. He clicked it on then half-heartedly rinsed two cups in the sink.
‘Oh yeah, that he is. That reminds me. Next time I go anywhere with the Brotherhood remind me that it’s not wise to ask them why they report to the Magistry.’
Caleb stopped mid pour. ‘You asked that?’
‘Yeah,’ Seb said, absently rubbing his right forearm which still shook now, an hour after Cade’s onslaught.
‘Ah.’
‘No shit. Ah. What’s the deal there?’
Caleb shuffled back over. He placed one cup in front of Seb and retreated with the other. A smell of stewed grass rose from the mug.
‘What is this?’ Seb said. He lifted the mug, wrinkling his nose as the aroma assailed him.
‘Drink it. It will sooth the aches.’
Seb took a sip. It tasted as bad as it smelled. He suppressed a gag reflex as the foul liquid poured down his throat.
‘God that’s vile.’
‘Give it a chance. You’ll thank me for it tomorrow.’
‘I’ll hold you to that,’ Seb said. He leaned back in the chair. A warmth had poured into his limbs and the pain had decreased to an ache.
‘So you want to know about the Brotherhood?’ Caleb closed the book and moved round. He dropped down into the chair opposite Seb.
‘I think it might be good to know. At least what it takes to stop me getting a beating in training.’
Caleb smiled, ‘I don’t think Cade will be any different regardless. He’s always fought with that intensity, ever since he was old enough to throw a punch.’
‘Who are they, Caleb?’
‘You remember what I told you about the Great Crossing?’
‘When the magi fled to Earth? During the fall of Temperos? I do indeed,’ Seb said, almost smugly.
‘Ah yes, I’ve heard that you’ve been seen around the library. I assumed you’d just gotten lost.’
‘Very funny.’
‘During the One War, as this conflict was called. The magi knew that their numbers were too small to defeat the sheol. One thing that Danu noticed was the fact that the sheol had an almost natural affinity for the Weave. They weren’t trained, they couldn’t read Runic Script, yet they had sense, they had a form of avatari. In an attempt to learn about their source of power, Danu captured several sheol. He conducted experiment after experiment, desperate to find something, anything, that would help in the conflict.’
‘What did he find?’
‘It was the blood. Sheol blood. Something in it literally absorbs the Weave.’
‘Where do the Brotherhood come into it?’ Seb said, although an uneasy knowing was making itself felt.
‘Danu wanted to create an army, loyal to humanity, but with powers that would match the sheol. He believed that by combining the blood of the sheol with humans loyal to the magi he could produce a force that could resist the sheol.’
‘Let me guess. None volunteered.’
‘He appealed to his finest warriors. All refused. The most loyal simply refused to be contaminated, whereas others began to openly question Danu’s sanity. Ingesting the blood of fiends? Of their most mortal enemies? What was he thinking?
‘No. Instead he was forced to turn to others. He turned to those who perhaps owed Aura a penance, those who had no real future, those who’d perhaps give up their own lives in exchange for freedom.’
The answer came to Seb like a shot.
‘Prisoners.’
‘You are perceptive,’ Caleb said. ‘Yes. Danu offered prisoners the chance for freedom. Not just any, of course, some would die in the bowels of Labyron for what they’d done. Others though, they had simply taken a wrong turn in life. Crimes of passion. Smuggling refugees across the Borders. That kind of thing. There were many who were fit, strong and willing to give their all in exchange for freedom.’
‘So how did it happen? Did they just drink sheol blood and they came…what’s the term?’
‘Imbued.’
‘Yes. That. Was it that simple?’
Caleb frowned. He drained his mug. ‘No. It was not. They quickly found that ingesting sheol blood was a risky process. Many became possessed themselves, others simply turned insane. In either case, the magi were forced to kill those who could not take the Bloodrite.’
‘Obviously some took to it though?’ Seb thought of Cade and Silas. Those yellow eyes and shadow melding abilities.
‘Aye. Eventually. They found that it took individuals of a certain mental and physical disposition to handle the ceremony. These brothers of the blood became Imbued. They combined the abilities of the sheol with their human natures. With that, the Brotherhood was born.’
‘What? That’s it?’ Seb said. Something didn’t make sense. ‘That just begs more questions. Why did the magi still lose? Why is the Brotherhood still obeying their every order?’
‘Alas, the siring of the Brotherhood came too late in the war. By the time the first legion of Brothers were ready for battle the forces of Nazgath were at the gates. No, instead the magi and the Brotherhood made the Crossing together. To here.’
‘Why though?’
‘Why? It beat staying. To the sheol and humans alike the Brotherhood were the worst kind of abomination, a corruption of their purest forms with their worst enemies. Fleeing Aura was their only option.’
‘Maybe so. But why are they still obeying them now? Once they were here why didn’t they just go their own way? Chalk the whole thing up as a bad experience?’
‘And that is where we come to the final thing. This is what you need to be careful with. It is a source of much tension these days.’
‘What is it?’
‘The Oath. The oath the Brotherhood made when they swore eternal loyalty to the Magistry. In exchange for safe passage from the wand the Sharding, the Brotherhood promised their lives to the magi and their descendants.’
‘Let me guess. It made perfect sense at the time. But now, hundreds of years later, not so much.’
Caleb nodded, the twinkle fading from his eyes.
‘Like many things that made sense in those days, the world we now inhabit isn’t exactly viewed as it once was by certain parties.’
‘You mean by the Brotherhood.’
‘Amongst others.’
The men fell into an easy silence. Seb sank further into the chair. The aching had faded. A heaviness pulled at his e
yelids.
‘It’s working?’ Caleb said. A knowing smile on his face.
Seb shuffled onto his side. ‘I might just rest my eyes, just for a minute.’
‘Of course. You need the rest. After all, you do it all again tomorrow.’
Great, the word, his last thought, flickered briefly in his mind before a heavy sleep took him into its arms.
Chapter 22
‘Focus, Sylph. Empty your mind of distraction. Only with a calmness of mind can you implement this effect.’
Sylph stood, eyes locked on the single candle that burned in the corner of the room. She focussed on the candle, emptying her mind of all distraction. It was routine, almost habit. Something she’d done hundreds of times before.
Yet why was she failing now?
‘Is something troubling you?’ Marek said.
‘No.’
Yes.
‘Tell me, child. Your welfare is most important to me.’
She shook her head and let out a deep breath. She refocussed on the candle.
‘It’s nothing,’ she said.
Marek nodded, clearly not believing her.
Focus dammit. She connected to the Weave, the subtle change welcome, filling her veins with energy. The room darkened around her, the candle being the only thing that existed, burning away in the distance. She called the Script to mind, the glyphs appearing in her mind’s eye before vanishing, their stored energies consumed as she readied the effect. With one last breath she mentally wrapped a snuffing hand around the flame, and –
Sheol. Sheol desecrating a Baloran tomb.
She shook her head. Stop it!
The man in her dream. In Sarah’s dream. The Baloran priest.
But he wasn’t, was he?
No. Don’t think of that. Marek would not be pleased.
He wasn’t Baloran. He was sheol.
‘Sylph!’
The image vanished. Sylph shook it away and turned back to her mentor. Marek’s white eyes bore into her.
‘You are distracted. Go and come back when you’re in a fit state.’
Marek raised a hand as he walked back to his desk. The candle snuffed out with a whimper of Weave energy. He flicked on the lamp and sat in his chair.
Message Bearer (The Auran Chronicles Book 1) Page 13