Black Warrior

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Black Warrior Page 18

by Jolie Jaquinta


  Chapter 18 – Briefings

  Moss teleported into the arrivals room in the Scioni Academy of Magic. Although most people arrived in Irontree by the municipal gate, those with personal teleportation capabilities could arrive wherever they wanted. All of the important structures in the town, and there were many, had intrinsic defenses against unwanted teleportation. Most just created a dead zone and anything trying to enter magically just had the spell fail. Some would deflect incoming people to the perimeter. Or redirect anyone in the area to a specific place. For the fortifications, this tended to be a jail, so they could explain exactly why they had been trying to break into a secure facility. For the Academy, people were assumed to be miscalculating students and more gently redirected to the arrivals hall.

  The place was quite a bustle with people. To keep security simple, it was also the main entryway for the Academy as a whole. Moss dodged and stepped to maintain a leisurely pace yet keep out of the way of people in a rush to either enter or leave. He did so with a lightness in his step and a mood several notches higher than the worried concern that was worn on most people's faces.

  The magical protections recognized him and indicated so to the guards manning the threshold. They performed a simple verification and waved him through. Moss entered but then hovered at the guard post, patiently waiting for them to have a moment.

  “People are assembling where?” he asked, when the guard looked up.

  “The Mistress has them in lecture theater #1”, he said. “The big one.”

  Moss gave a salute and sauntered on. The general flow of people seemed to be away from that area. He guessed that he probably missed whatever big briefing was held. But very little bothered him at the moment. He snagged a couple of pieces of fruit from the refectory which was just opposite the big hall and entered.

  There was a general murmur of people in knots conversing as they made their way out. Moss could see down the slope to Magister Devonshire Beth. She was next to the podium talking with a few people. More likely cornered by them, thought Moss, judging the body language. He hopped down the steps lightly towards her.

  “Hey Dev”, he called out casually. “Sorry I missed the party.” The people talking to her parted, as they knew Moss was one of the most senior mages at the Academy.

  “I hope you had a good excuse”, she growled at him, although it was clear she wasn't serious.

  “Sorry”, he said, shrugging. “I was getting my head screwed back on.”

  “Oh”, said Devonshire, a bit taken back. “You missed the summons then?”

  “Yes”, said Moss. “My apologies if you have to repeat yourself. But what's up?”

  Devonshire sighed, looked to the hangers on, “If you excuse me?” They made their excuses and left. “Follow me”, said Devonshire. She stepped down from the stage and set up a brisk pace. Moss fell in step next to her.

  “I heard something about the gates of hell breaking open”, said Moss.

  Devonshire looked askance at him. “Don't even joke about it.” She shook her head. “Whatever the gods bottled up in The Black Hole is out. Seems that after we killed them, no one stood up to maintain the barriers and they're down. They've probably been down for months. Just no one's noticed.”

  “Let me guess”, said Moss. “It's not full of cheerful cherubs cascading out to shower us with flower petals in thanks for their freedom?”

  They had moved from the theater into one of the wider halls. “Ha ha”, said Devonshire, humorlessly. “More like ravening undead haunts that want to choke the life out of us in thanks for their freedom.” She turned into a small room reserved for lecturers preparing for class. It was quiet and empty. “We've got breakouts in at least four places.”

  “What are we doing about it?” asked Moss.

  “The armies have been deployed. But it's going to be a difficult engagement. The enemy is well prepared and has selected their approaches well. Seems they've been planning this for a millennia”, she sighed.

  “What do they want?” asked Moss.

  “To choke the life out us, as far as we can tell”, Devonshire said with sarcasm. “And equipment. Anyone they've overrun they've stripped. They seem to be fighting with weapons and armor made of stone and bone. Real primitive stuff.”

  “And they're still giving us problems?” asked Moss, surprised. “We've got the best equipped army of all time.”

  “Tell me about it”, growled Devonshire. “They're tenacious bastards. They aren't alive. They aren't dead. That makes them really hard to take down. And it looks like they've been practicing for millennia as well.”

  “Who are these people?” asked Moss. “All I remember is something about 'The Forsaken' and 'The Great Betrayal'.”

  “That's about all we have to go on as well”, said Devonshire. “We've scrambled all the junior mages to hit the history books we have. Try to find some sort of reference. If they've got a major beef with the gods, we must be able to come to terms with them. Sounds like we just did them a huge favor by killing them.”

  “You would think”, said Moss. He rubbed his chin. “We've got to work out what makes them tick. Both physiologically and psychologically.”

  “If we'd known they hated the gods so much we could have used them a year ago fighting the gods” said Devonshire.

  “Time just doesn't ever seem to be on our side”, said Moss. “Or was Time one of the gods we killed?” he joked. Devonshire rolled her eyes. “What do the gods know about the Black Hole? Have we asked them?”

  “I'm not sure how asking a bunch of people with self-inflicted amnesia is going to help”, said Devonshire. “They've got a 200 year horizon they cease to remember things over.”

  “Well”, said Moss, “those were only the original hundred and forty three. They're all dead now. The ones left don't have that limit.”

  “True”, conceded Devonshire. “But they are also more recent. There's nothing in the history of Romitu about this. So they got forsaken at least a thousand years ago.”

  “I don't suppose anyone's asked them to put the barrier back up?” asked Moss.

  “The cat is out of the bag now”, said Devonshire. “Besides, I wouldn't be surprised if they let it drop intentionally. Payback and all that. And, if the bastards locked these people up then instead of turning them into mana-slaves like the rest of the heavenly host, I don't think it is necessarily right to just go and lock them up again.”

  “Ah”, said Moss. “A moral dilemma.”

  Devonshire snorted. “If we let political expedience trump morals then our hearts are rotten and we're no better than the gods.”

  “Well, it sounds like we have a situation”, said Moss, but he held up his hands to stop Devonshire interrupting. “Once we have a handle on the situation, I think the precedent is clear. Queen Jesca set the standard. We give them the chance for their own final disposition. If they want to be resurrected into new living bodies, we do it. If they want to go to the peace of reincarnation, we do that. If, in the unlikely event, they want to go become mana-slaves to the gods who imprisoned them, we let them do that.”

  Devonshire looked hard at Moss. “Can I count on you not to change your tune later?” she asked.

  “Absolutely”, said Moss. “My word as a government employee.” He bowed, theatrically fluttering his grey cloak.

  “The government you got that cloak from is long gone”, said Devonshire, although she had relaxed a little.

  “True”, said Moss. “I guess you'll just have to take my word as a fellow member of the Household of Scioni.”

  Devonshire inclined her head. “That is something I respect and will hold you to.”

  Moss smiled. “Good. Now, how can I help?”

  “I've been sending out full mages in batches to beef up the magical contingents in each army. Kept a few juniors here to shepherd the more advanced students for doing historical lookup and research. This is a military operation, not an Academy one, so I'm letting their chain of command call the sh
ots.” Devonshire shrugged. “Once things are settled here I'll probably head to military HQ and see what the generals make of it all.”

  “Sounds like maybe I should head over there myself then”, said Moss.

  “Actually”, said Devonshire. “There's one favor I'd ask of you.”

  “Sure”, said Moss. “Anything.”

  “I've cancelled all classes for the junior and auditing students. Some of them are from far away and I thought it best to get them home. If you can hang about for about an hour and keep the lid on things I'll go ahead and get them teleported.”

  “That's right. We have the gratis students from the Underground and the Underwater...” Moss smiled suddenly. Devonshire looked sheepish. “By all means, Dev. Get the kids home. Make sure they're safe and sound.” He winked at her. “I'll keep the tea in the kettle here.”

  “Thanks”, said Devonshire. “I owe you drinks.”

 

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