Towards the far end of the room, I could see the Diabolist standing on some sort of stone dais. It appeared that the action was likely to take place there, so I began working my way through the crowd in that direction, hoping to get a front-row seat for whatever was about to happen.
As I got closer, I saw that there was a group of people assembled in front of the dais, all in a straight line facing Diabolist Mage. They looked a little worse for wear, as if they’d just had sand kicked in their face at the beach, only the sand had been moving at one hundred miles per hour. It took me a second, but then I realized that this was Case’s group that had left just a little while earlier.
Although I could only get a partial view of him from the side, Case himself looked like a boxer who had taken one too many punches to the head. His blond hair was unkempt, there was a distinct bruise on his cheek, and he held a hand against his side in a way that gave the impression that he was in pain.
Next to Case’s group stood Gorgon Son, staring at them in menacing disapproval. In his hand he held a mace, which I assumed to be the same one he’d tried to bash me with.
Those assembled gave a wide berth to Case and his compatriots – as if they had some infectious disease – with the individuals at the front of the crowd getting no closer to them than twenty feet or so. It was already quiet in the room, but the few remaining whispers ceased abruptly as Diabolist Mage began talking.
“Well?” he said, staring at Case and his fellows but speaking to no one in particular. “I’m waiting for an explanation.”
A deafening silence filled the chamber. It was clear that something had gone wrong, and Case’s group was on trial for their lives. After a few moments, during which the Diabolist grew noticeably impatient, one of the group stepped forward.
“It was the Alpha League,” the man said. “They were– ”
“The Alpha League?!” shouted the Diabolist. “The Alpha League was destroyed!”
I could have smacked myself on the head. Proteus had actually been dispatched on a two-fold mission, one of which involved getting Alpha League HQ hammered by these guys’ secret weapon. By coming back here as Proteus, I had apparently given Diabolist Mage the impression that their plan had worked. I inconspicuously attempted to worm my way back into the crowd a little bit, trying to avoid being seen by the Diabolist.
“Destroyed?” the man repeated. “No, they were on us before we could even get properly in position.”
I fought to keep a smile off my face. The fact that the Alpha League had shown up meant that the beacon had done its job.
“What do you mean?” asked the Diabolist. “You shouldn’t have had to get into the proper position. You should have appeared at the proper position.”
The man, a brown-haired fellow with a five o’clock shadow who looked to be in his mid-thirties, looked nervous, unsure of what to say. He gulped, and then went on.
“We didn’t appear at the designated location,” the brown-haired man said. “We were about a mile east of the target zone. It took us about an hour to get there, and by that time the Alpha League had shown up. We were outmatched and requested recall.”
This news did not sit well with Diabolist Mage, whose look had continually darkened with every word he’d heard. He gave an angry nod to Gorgon Son, who pointed his mace at the brown-haired man. A beam of light shot out from the mace and struck the man, who screamed and dropped to the floor, writhing in agony. Gorgon Son stepped over and hauled the man to his feet with one hand.
“Can you please explain to me why it took you an hour to cover one mile?” Diabolist Mage asked the man, who only appeared half-conscious while held in Gorgon Son’s grip.
“Only… moved…cover,” the man said groggily. “Maintain…surprise… League…knew…coming…”
The man seemed to pass out. Diabolist Mage made a subtle gesture to Gorgon Son, who slapped the man so viciously I thought his head would come off. Then again. He was preparing to do so a third time when a voice like thunder sounded.
“Enough,” someone said in a commanding tone, with an inflection that reverberated off the walls.
Suddenly standing next to Diabolist Mage was another man. He was tall, muscular, completely hairless, and extraordinarily pale. He wore only a pair of trousers, and on his bare chest was an elaborate tattoo of a dragon. Somehow, despite his unique appearance and commanding presence, he had gained the stage next to the Diabolist without anyone even noticing him.
However, the minute he spoke, all eyes turned to him, and suddenly I sensed overwhelming feelings of fear, admiration, and respect coming from those around me. Even Gorgon Son, who seemed to be Diabolist Mage’s right-hand man, inclined his head, acknowledging the newcomer’s authority. Gorgon Son released his grip, and the brown-haired man flopped to the ground, unconscious.
There was now no doubt who was in charge. Who was running the show. Who the ‘big man’ was. It was this fellow, a fact that sent my mind racing because I recognized him.
It was the White Wyrm.
Chapter 31
The White Wyrm was one of the most noted and feared supervillains on the planet. Claiming descent from a dragon, he purportedly had a wide variety of powers – everything from super strength to telepathy, if you believed the rumors. (It was also said that he actually hated his “White Wyrm” moniker, which may be why everyone here constantly made reference to him by some other sobriquet.)
Regardless of what rumors were true about him, his involvement here meant that the stakes were even higher than anyone had imagined. Now I desperately needed to find out everything I could, because if there was anyone worth stopping with respect to anything they were doing, it was the White Wyrm.
“Don’t kill the messenger who brings bad news,” the White Wyrm said, speaking to the entire assembly. “Kill the messenger who fails to bring bad news when it’s his duty to do so.”
He turned his attention to the rest of Case’s team. There was a cold fury in his gaze that was unnerving, and I was absolutely sure that those receiving the brunt of it would start to wilt.
“If the Alpha League was waiting for you,” the White Wyrm said after a moment, staring at the men in front of him, “then someone told them you were coming.”
At that, Diabolist Mage pointed his staff at the men on Case’s team, and it gave off the same purple spotlight effect I had seen before. One by one, he shined it on the men in front of him until he came to Case. The light seemed to settle on him, and then intensify to such an extent that Case held up a hand to protect his eyes.
The light then narrowed until its point was a small dot – like a laser pointer – on Case’s forehead. Then it began to move, swirling at first, around the area of Case’s face. Next, it began zigzagging, running back and forth across his body in wild random patterns before eventually slowing down and then settling on a pocket on his belt. The very pocket I had placed the beacon in.
“Him,” Diabolist Mage said a moment later.
“No!” Case screeched, backing away and looking terrified. “Not me! I didn’t do anything! I–”
He stopped speaking as Gorgon Son caught him in a chokehold and dragged him up on the dais. Diabolist Mage came over to him, oozing malice, and popped open the indicated pocket on Case’s belt. He reached in and pulled out the beacon. He stared at the little button-like object for a moment, then dropped it on the floor. He raised his staff and brought it down on the beacon. There was a short but intense flash, and when the staff was moved away the beacon was gone; no part of it remained – no ash, no broken circuit or wiring, nothing.
Diabolist Mage looked Case in the eye.
“You would have done better to shoot yourself than betray us,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Take him away.”
Case made a whimpering sound as he was dragged from the room.
Diabolist Mage raised his staff, and again it blazed like a comet, casting an indigo hue upon everyone in the Great Hall.
“Let this be a me
ssage to all of you,” he said to the crowd. “Disloyalty will be dealt with severely – without exception, without mercy, and without remorse. Go.”
No one needed to be told twice. There were low whispers and murmurs as everyone hustled out of the Great Hall, eager to put distance between themselves and the scene we had just witnessed.
Having been near the front when Case’s team was being interrogated, I now found myself at the rear of those departing the chamber, the purple light from the Diabolist’s staff still shining on our backs. I idled, walking at a slower and slower pace until I was the absolute last person to leave.
As I exited the room, the doors of the Great Hall slammed shut behind me of their own accord. There was a small clicking sound, and I knew that they were locked as well. I checked to make sure that no one was watching me, then turned invisible, phased, and went back inside.
The place seemed even larger now that the crowd had departed; the only people still in the room were Diabolist Mage and the White Wyrm. I floated up into the air and flew to the dais, which they were still on.
As I got close, I saw the White Wyrm turn to face the rear of the dais. He took about three steps, and then seemed to tap his foot on the floor. Almost immediately, blocks of stone in the floor started descending in a spiral pattern, creating a narrow, winding staircase leading down into darkness. This was quite likely how the White Wyrm had suddenly seemed to appear out of nowhere.
The White Wyrm began walking down the stairs, followed by Diabolist Mage (who, in turn, was followed by me). Neither spoke as they descended, and after a few moments, I heard a great weight shifting above me as the stones of the dais moved back into place. Simultaneously, what little light that had been entering the stairwell from the Great Hall vanished.
This presented no problem for me, as I was already viewing things in the infrared. An expanding purple glow below me indicated that Diabolist Mage was using his staff for light. I didn’t know if the White Wyrm required any visual aid to see in the dark.
After a few minutes of traveling in this manner, we reached the bottom of the stairs, which terminated at a large room that appeared to serve as an office of some sort. I noticed an antique desk with a matching chair, several large tables covered with archaic parchments and scrolls, and some bookcases filled with dusty, ancient tomes. Light was provided by a number of well-placed torches.
I was most surprised, however, to see that the room had a window. It was situated on the wall behind the antique desk, and it was the only one I’d seen thus far. The view outside the window was pitch black, apparently showing a starless, moonless night.
The White Wyrm stepped behind the desk and looked out the window. Diabolist Mage stayed on the other side of the desk, waiting. On my part, I floated into one of the upper corners of the room.
“So, Diabolist,” he said. “I believe an explanation is in order.”
“Apparently we were compromised,” Diabolist Mage said. “One of our men had a homing beacon that led the Alpha League straight to us.”
“Not that. I’m not talking about that. I’m curious as to why that assault group ended up a mile away from the target. According to Grain Brain, you lost control.”
Diabolist Mage coughed uncomfortably before speaking. “Your little shrunken-head pet is wrong. Why do we need him anyway? My magic can do everything his technology can, and more.”
“First of all, we need Grain Brain because the blend of the mystical and mechanical serves our purposes by confusing the enemy. Those with roots in science will seek a technological answer, while those versed in the arcane will look for a magical solution. Both will be wrong in the aggregate.
“Next, Grain Brain’s inventions enhance your magic, making it easier for you to accomplish things. Without them, your ability to control the power you’ve received is unreliable. Moreover, using them also helps reduce the risk that you’ll inadvertently drain our secret weapon.
“Finally, don’t forget that all of this newfound power you currently wield and boastfully speak of comes from a relic that I gave you. Without it, you would be just another street-corner magician doing card tricks on the subway for tips. So I’ll ask you again for an explanation.”
Diabolist Mage gritted his teeth in fury but kept a civil tongue in his head. “I didn’t lose control. I was assaulted – a mind probe.”
The White Wyrm glanced over his shoulder for a second, seemingly concerned. “Did they learn anything?”
“Of course not! I was aware the moment they set foot inside my brain. However, it was enough to break my concentration, and apparently make me lose the intended locus of the transfer.”
“So,” said the White Wyrm, turning all the way around to face Diabolist Mage, “you transferred them to the wrong location, which gave the Alpha League a chance to get involved, and ultimately caused a setback of our plans.”
“You seem to forget that – despite any mistakes on my part – success would still have been possible if not for a traitor on the assault team.”
“No, I didn’t forget that. Nor did I forget that you decided to torture someone who was giving you valuable information on the subject.”
“I’ve seen you do worse.”
“You are wantonly cruel,” the White Wyrm said, as if explaining something to a child. “I, on the other hand, am only cruel when it’s warranted.”
“We needed to send a message, about both failure and betrayal.”
“Then, by your own standards, you should be punished for failing to destroy the Alpha League.”
“That’s not my fault! Proteus is to blame for that. He’s the one who should be punished. I’ll see to it–”
“You’ll see to nothing.”
“But Proteus is probably a traitor as well, since he didn’t even mention that our weapon failed to take out the Alpha League.”
“Didn’t you say he was disoriented when he came back? He probably wasn’t even thinking about it, especially if no one asked him a direct question on the subject. Also, if he betrayed us, why even come back? Why bring you relics that increased your power, that might make you capable of creating weapons that could defeat Alpha Prime? It seems far more likely that the traitor we uncovered today also gave the Alpha League a warning about our prior attack.”
“Regardless, Proteus should still be disciplined, or it might send the wrong message.”
“So now you wish to kill the courier who brings good news? In case you don’t realize it, you’ve already sent a message. You let whoever tried to read your mind know that you can be easily distracted.”
“The situation is more complex than you’re making it sound.”
“Oh? I seem to recall things being rather simple. You promised that you would be able to master the power you were given, but I see little evidence of it.”
“I’ve mastered plenty!”
“Yes, if you only count the ability to destroy things – buildings, bridges, and the like. That’s nothing – the equivalent of letting a child push the plunger on some TNT. Anyone can destroy. What’s needed is mastery of the finer nuances of this power you’ve been granted.”
“Such as?”
“The loyalty spell, for starters. You were supposed to cast a spell to ensure complete loyalty to me and my plans, as there is no honor among thieves. If it were done properly, we wouldn’t have had a traitor on our team today and maybe your brain wouldn’t have received a telepathic flyby.”
“The spell is still in place. When I shined my staff on the assembly minutes ago, I screened everyone present, and they were all still under the influence of magic.”
My ears perked up. I had been in that room when Diabolist Mage had shined his light on everyone. Did that mean that I was supposedly under a spell now? A loyalty spell? To these people?
“If the loyalty spell is still active and in place, then how do you explain our traitor?” the White Wyrm asked.
“I can’t,” Diabolist Mage said, shaking his head.
The
White Wyrm seemed to take this in stride. He turned and began staring out the window once more. He stood there like that for several minutes, so still that he barely seemed alive.
Finally, Diabolist Mage pointed his staff and the window and said, “Perhaps I should–”
“Don’t,” said the White Wyrm firmly, raising his hand in a forbidding gesture while still looking outside. “I’m well aware of the dangers of looking out of the window – of staring into the void. I know that it supposedly drives men mad, which is why I had you remove all the other windows in the castle. But a healthy mind has nothing to fear; only the weak-minded need to worry about what is, or rather isn’t, out there.”
The last part of their conversation seemed odd to me, and I really didn’t follow it. I had no idea what was so special about a window, but I didn’t think it worth wasting a lot of time to find out.
Finally, the White Wyrm looked over his shoulder and spoke. “You should go, Diabolist. Work on mastering the powers you now possess.”
Diabolist Mage didn’t say anything, but I could tell from his emotions that he really didn’t like being told what to do or being casually dismissed.
I thought the Diabolist was about to exit via the stairs and I prepared to follow him. Instead, however, he tapped his staff on the ground and simply disappeared.
Rather than stay there and watch the White Wyrm stare into space, I disappeared myself, teleporting back to my room.
Chapter 32
My sole remaining roommate wasn’t present when I popped into our room, so I became visible and stretched out on my bed. I closed my eyes, trying to process everything I’d recently learned and plot my next move.
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