Mages Must Fall

by Jeffrey Biles

  It wasn’t an easy kill this time. War Mages were trained to take beatings as well as give them, and so they could recover and fight again much more quickly than an Inquisitor. Not an easy kill, but both War Mages were soon locked down in a battle they hadn’t expected, taking them out of the equation.

  The Inquisitors tried to help, but the trick explosives paid off; when the Inquisitors stopped dismantling them, they exploded. That took the Inquisitors out of the equation long enough for another round of fireballs to come their way, taking them out again.

  The War Mages were putting up more of a fight. Hans could take an Inquisitor down by surprise, and his speed and enthusiasm was an asset for that, but the War Mage was almost twice his size and had been able to toss him off. But, strangely, wasn’t finishing the job. Instead, the War Mage shot a fireball… into the sky.

  A signal, where other Mages could see it and come to their rescue.

  “Hurry!” yelled Terrance. “Kill them quickly!”

  The War Mage Terrance had been grappling with took advantage of his distraction and got off a solid punch, knocking Terrance away from him. Terrance leapt up, faced the War Mage. Circled. As long as he could distract this one, his allies could take out the other three.

  Hans had already recovered, gotten a solid stab on his War Mage while he was distracted shooting the signal fireball into the sky, but after that the fight was more lopsided the other way. Why had they thought it was a good idea to send in a thirteen-year-old boy?

  The other fights were going better. Three rescues on each Inquisitor. They were less experienced rescues, but it still wasn’t even a fight. The Inquisitors were going down.

  He circled his own War Mage. Distract him. Wait until others were freed up from their fights with the Inquisitors.

  But Hans was getting pushed back, barely dodging the sword swings.

  “Reinforcements!” yelled Terrance.

  The four reinforcements came out from the shadows, rushed to help with the War Mage fights… but it was too late. A sword swipe took Hans in the shoulder. Then another one in the gut. The War Mage roared and turned to face the two other rescues headed towards him.

  The two rescues coming to help Terrance took his War Mage in the back. Not even a chance there. Soon the other War Mage was subdued, killed. The Inquisitors’ lives were snuffed out as well.

  A victory.

  The rescues who hadn’t seen Hans’ bleeding corpse let out a cheer. A cheer quickly silenced when they saw what had happened.

  Natalie rearranged Hans’ body to a more restful pose. Closed his eyelids.

  This was the first time Terrance had seen her weep.

  They let her. She had been the one closest to Hans, the one who had tamed him in those early days. The two original rescues.

  After a couple minutes she stood up.

  “This will happen again,” she said. “This is the cost of what we do. It is the cost we must pay. Before Terrance found us, we were all dead anyways. Let us be thankful for the extra time.”

  The rescues, with tears in their eyes, cheered as one.

  Terrance wished he had her gift with words, but was happy enough that someone on their team had it.

  And their plan had worked. Despite the loss, their plan had worked. Two dead Inquisitors and two dead War Mages in exchange for one dead rescue. And they were recruiting rescues much faster than the Mages' Guild could recruit new Mages.

  Their victory was almost assured, he thought.

  Until nine magical signatures popped up close by. Strong ones. Heading their way.

  The flare. With the adrenaline, the emotion, he had forgotten about the flare. Their lookouts had turned their attention to Natalie’s speech.

  There was no way they could win against nine Mages.

  “Run!” He yelled. “As fast as you can, run!”

  The first fireballs streaked across the street, crashing into the group of rescues gathered around Hans’ body.

  Most of them had enhanced themselves by then, but one girl was too slow and was consumed by flames. The rest were singed and coughing- their clothes did not protect them as thoroughly as a Mage Cloak would.

  This was going to be a massacre.

  “Run!” Terrance yelled again. Most of them did, but two of the boys stood frozen, transfixed by the horror of their burning friend. Inquisitor swords cut them open, spilling their guts on the ground. Even enhanced strength couldn’t withstand a strong direct blow from those blades.

  Terrance built a fireball, a massive one, and threw it at the biggest clump of Mages he could see. It did little to slow them down.

  “Run, and scatter! You’re faster than them!”

  He hoped it was true. He frantically sent out phantoms to confuse the Mages, then took off.

  This was over half their force. The four lookouts had been intelligent enough to not use their magic, so they could slink off into the night, but the rest of them would be chased until caught and destroyed. To get out of the Mages’ view without a cleansing they would have to stop using magic for hours, maybe even days, depending on how much they had already used.

  Terrance ran as fast as he could, and noticed that only one Mage — some War Mage he couldn’t recognize — was chasing him.

  If he took on the Mages one by one, there was a chance he could save the rescues.

  It was a tiny chance, and he would take it.

  Terrance stopped to send out phantoms, crept behind a crevice. When the Mage arrived at the corner he could see Terrance’s signature, but he could also see a half dozen other signatures that looked exactly the same.

  The Mage stalked the area, carefully investigating every phantom. When the Mage’s back was turned to look around a corner Terrance ran at the mage as fast as possible, pulling down the most power he could and coursing it through his body.

  It felt so good.

  So alive.

  The Mage turned, but couldn’t get his sword into position fast enough. Terrance barreled into him and knocked him against the sharp corner he had been peeking around.

  There was a sharp snap. A neck, hopefully, but any broken bone was a start. Terrance’s knife was out, jabbing into any soft area he could find. In close enough quarters, a knife was far better than a sword. There was a satisfying gurgling sound and then the magic began to dissipate from the Mage’s body.

  Eight left.

  The Mages thought he was strong with magic, and he practiced more than an orthodox Mage, so there was a chance.

  He tried to ignore the light going out a half mile away. Concentrate on what he could change.

  He found the closest pair of magical signatures and sprinted to them as fast as his enhanced legs could carry him.

  The signals converged, but neither had gone out yet, so Terrance continued to sprint. He leapt up onto the rooftop to get to their elevation and then leapt between buildings to close the remaining distance. When they finally came into sight, the Inquisitor — Conrad — had one of the new rescues flat on the roof, arm broken and knife tossed to the side. Foot on chest.

  “Why do you call it?” Conrad asked. “Why do you call the beast?”

  The rescue spat. “Just kill me, you monster.”

  “Monster? You have the audacity to call me a monster? After running through our resources, sucking dry the only thing protecting this city?”

  Conrad raised his sword, but Terrance’s flying kick hit his arm and knocked the strike wild. He’d gotten a lot better at that. It still left him off balance though, and the Inquisitor’s knee found his solar plexus, hard, and sent him stumbling backwards.

  Terrance held his knife out while stars danced before his eyes, hoping that Conrad wouldn’t come at him before he recovered his breath.

  Terrance’s wish was granted. The Inquisitor recovered his composure, picked up his sword, looked down, and ran the rescue through with the blade.

  Fuck.

  “You’re the leader, aren’t you?” The man stalked towards him. �
�Terrance. Traitor to the Mages' Guild, to Nordheim. To your own family. You left a baby. A baby that’s going to die in the world you’re trying to create. You know that, right? You’re going to kill Johanna, and you’re going to kill your own fucking baby.”

  Terrance could almost stand up straight again, but Conrad had nearly reached him. A close battle wouldn’t end well. As a last ditch effort he formed a fireball and aimed it at the man’s feet. Though he would get caught up in the flames, his injuries would be worth causing this man’s death. He could still make an effort and save the others. Kill the other seven Mages. If he made the fireball big enough, aimed it perfectly enough…

  Then it disappeared.

  It all disappeared.

  The fireball. The enhancement. All the magical signatures.

  Gone.

  The man stumbled at the loss of enhancement, fell. Didn’t bother getting back up. “You did it,” he said quietly. “You really did it.”

  “Your reign of terror is over,” said Terrance.

  “And what will come after?” asked the man. Almost pleading.

  “After your terror is over? When men can live freely, not in fear of their lives? Once the power of magic is unleashed to the masses? What will come after?”

  “You really don’t know, do you? That symbol; it’s just a symbol to you.”

  “That lizard? The myth that you use to control the people? It’s us now. We are the lizard that will eat the mages.”

  Conrad was sobbing uncontrollably.

  That hadn’t stopped an Inquisitor before.

  Terrance slit the man’s throat and the sobbing stopped.

  Only to be replaced by a gigantic roar.

  28

  A giant crunching sound from the Palace followed the first roar. Then those two sounds combined and the Palace split.

  The beast of legend emerged from the ground, more terrifying than anything a picture could ever imply. It was not mere lizard — that was simply a convention, an artifact used so that human minds could approximate this creature over the ages. The only description that was believable to those who hadn’t seen it.

  It threw off the Palace like a yoke, shaking rubble from its body with a horrendous groaning noise.

  It stood in the pit of its old prison, the one that had held it under the Palace for thousands of years, and surveyed the land with piercing predator eyes that were attached to a long serpentine neck. Away from its body spread a pair of bony wings, one of the fibrous sections shredded from the act of throwing off the Palace and the earth piled on top of it.

  It put two massive forelegs on higher ground, crushing nearby buildings. As it pulled itself up, it revealed a sleek but muscular body, also covered in scales, and a wicked tail that soon flicked back and forth, crushing buildings to its side.

  The streets filled with a horrendous din, the yells and clatter of alarmed and fleeing humans drowning out the sound the monster was making over half a mile away.

  Terrance tried to enhance his body to jump between rooftops, but the magical field was still gone. A whisper, perhaps, remained — not enough to enhance. Of course the magic would disappear right before a giant monster appeared. A giant monster whose logo was irredeemably associated with his group of rescues.

  Whatever disastrous consequences this event would have for their popular support, the thing had to be destroyed. And with their best weapons gone… he shuddered.

  Was this how it all ended?

  He stared down the beast. It twitched its tail, but otherwise remained still. Silent.

  Waiting.

  What was it looking for?

  He thought back to the legend. This was a thing that ate mages. It must be looking for magical usage. Suddenly he was glad his earlier attempt at enhancement hadn’t worked.

  Just like Inquisitors, the monster tracked and destroyed those who used magic.

  He smiled.

  There might be hope after all.

  Seven. That was the number, including Terrance, that straggled in to Wile’s over the next hour and a half. Seven out of sixteen. Thankfully, Natalie was among those who returned.

  They didn’t have time to mourn. Mourning Hans had cost them the other eight.

  And there was a monster to fight.

  The plan was simple, but required a bit of magic to start flowing again.

  The budget. That’s what the fucking Department of Resource Management budget meant. That’s why they had been so stressed out. It wasn’t them trying to build a counter-strategy; it was them trying to not run out of magic.

  The only question now was: where did the magic come from? Did it replenish automatically? Did it come in a shipment from some netherworld? If it replenished automatically, then they would start to feel the field strengthen again soon.

  “Don’t use magic unless it’s part of the plan,” said Terrance. “We only have so much, and it’s shared between everyone. Us and the Mages' Guild.”

  “We should use it so they can’t get access.”

  “Did you see that monster out there? Don’t engage with Mages unless they attack you first.”

  There was grumbling, but the rest of them eventually agreed.

  And then Terrance laid out his plan.

  29

  Angelika couldn’t fight, but she could use the chaos.

  Now she knew what was under the Palace, one of the places Journeymen were forbidden, but the other forbidden area was still a mystery.

  She hated mysteries.

  She walked past where the guards were usually posted, walked down several long hallways — she would be halfway to the Palace by now if she were aboveground — and found a frantic bustle of activity. It centered around a large, complex device that was over the head of all but the tallest men, and the piles of glowing earth that were being shoveled into it. Those piles were unloaded from a stream of carts going back and forth between the machine and a tunnel that sloped downwards into the earth.

  As she came closer to the machine, she noticed something: magic was coming back. The closer she got, the stronger it was.

  This glowing earth- that was the “input” on the budget, and this machine was what refined it into something usable. She watched as refined glowing crystals were removed from the bottom of the machine and placed carefully on a shelf, a shelf that was clearly meant to hold many more crystals than were on it now. Another, smaller team started putting some of the glowing crystals into a set of slightly smaller machines, and removing other crystals that glowed less. As she wandered closer, she noted that it was this second set of machines that was the major source of the magic field, together at least twenty times as strong as the refinement machine, even when relatively empty like this. Each output a distinct field which only seemed to merge together when at a distance.

  Two Masters were arguing around the machines. One defended continuing to load the crystals in. The other argued that the original use for the field — keeping the seals on the beast intact — was no longer relevant, and that all output should be diverted into another set of even smaller devices. These smaller devices were being carted off to another room in the hidden part of Resource Management.

  There was something of a courier uniform, but hers was close enough, and in the chaos their ranks were filled with plenty of other people who didn’t quite fit. She grabbed a glowing crystal, put it into one of the smallest devices, and joined the stream.

  In the other room was someone she knew, a Master who had taken some time to train her. “Angelika? They’re even conscripting the budget people?”

  “Emergencies,” she said, shrugging.

  “Tell me about it.” He took the device and inspected it. “Come on, you loaded it wrong. A Mage could die out there. Not your fault, I bet this is your first time back here. If we survive this, maybe we can start letting Journeymen have more privileges.”

  After fixing the crystal into the device correctly he loaded the whole thing into a cloth pack carefully inlaid with wires that emanat
ed from where the crystal device was placed. “Take this to the Department of War. Specifically… you know, this explanation could take a while. Just follow the next courier.”

  They waited awkwardly for the next person to arrive with a crystal.

  “So, uh… budget’s pretty screwed this year.”

  The Master laughed. “That it is.”

  Someone came, and when the pack was loaded, she followed him out of the secret Resource Management alcove.

  “About time we started using these things,” said the other courier. “I’d like to see one of them fucking lizard anarchists fight us with no communal magic field, just these strapped to our backs.”

  Terrance was one of those fucking lizard anarchists. That whole thing screwed with her mind — it explained why he had joined the Inquisitors, but opened up so many more questions.

  Soon enough they reached the Department of War, and handed the packs over to nervous Mages who were about to see battle for the first time.

  She wanted to stay and watch, but the other courier motioned to her. “More packs,” he said.

  And thus her investigation ended.

  After Bertrand was taken, Leopold threw himself more into planning and strategizing. It was the only way to cope. After that woman, Natalie, came to visit he pushed himself in even deeper. Now he could say he was doing it not just to forget his grief, but to save his son.

  The entire Guild wasn’t behind him. Wasn’t even aware of the plan. But three of the nine on the highest council shared his views and plotted with him, and it was usually tenable to produce arguments enough to sway two of the other five members. And now was an unusually good time to propose bold plans.

  It wasn’t the ideal state. They had not thought that the great beast of legend would actually exist, although their source within the Mages' Guild was a true believer.

  Their source had only signed on to the original plan: Let the Lizzies and the Mages' Guild snipe at each other until the magic ran low, then strike at the Mages' Guild while they were weak. They hadn’t anticipated a pitched battle running the source dry and then, apparently, letting loose the beast. Now the Warriors' Guild would have to fight everyone and everything, depleting their resources but — hopefully — making them heroes.