‘Police are uncertain of the reasons for the attack but an act of fundamentalist terrorism has not been ruled out. The local Borough Commander had this to say this afternoon...’
‘The motives are currently unknown but we can establish a few things. The device used was relatively small and rather amateurish. It seems that the explosives were compacted into a container of nails and ball bearings, making the kind of bomb we used to see the IRA use on a fairly regular basis.
‘However, we think at this stage it’s the work of one person without any real experience or know-how. The potential here is far greater than the actual result. It is terribly regrettable that three innocent people have lost their lives, with many more injured, but if the perpetrator was experienced enough to really know what they were doing there could have been ten times the fatalities.’
In a small suburban home an unremarkable man smiled, the flickering of the television reflecting off white teeth in the darkened room. ‘I’ll remember that for next time, Borough Commander.’ The man raised his face toward the ceiling and laughed. ‘Three souls for your pleasure, my lord Yath-vados. Not bad for an amateur.’
In a fetid Realm, something drew in a long, shuddering breath.
Isiah drove quickly but carefully, trying to watch surreptitiously as the woman beside him changed. He was fascinated to see more of her, he was human enough still to admit that, but he was also interested to know how she would change. It would be difficult to get about the streets dressed as she was without attracting attention. Effective all the time she was actively hiding, but eccentric otherwise.
The woman’s clothing was wrapped and folded about her elaborately. She unwound some layers from her shoulders and upper chest and the close, practical uniform became a loose blouse, the grey offset by black inside. The black formed wide collars and cuffs and edged a smooth wrap-around across her chest. The material was some sort of silk, strong yet extremely light and thin. Next the head covering was unwound, becoming a light, wide scarf. A pale cream colour on the inside, she folded it out to be the primary surface, light across dark shoulders. Then she shifted in the seat as she unwound and untucked the trousers of the outfit. With deft movements she had fashioned a mid-length skirt, black and flowing. Her soft, dark grey leather boots also had a black lining, revealed as she folded the tops down to make them a short, fashionable accessory. Smooth, muscled calves were revealed between the skirt and boots.
Settling back into the seat she shook long, shining, thick dark hair loose over her shoulders and pale face. She turned to look at Isiah, those glacial eyes, Eurasian, flashing, amusement tweaking her full lips. ‘Enjoy that?’ she asked. ‘You’ll give yourself a headache twisting your eyes in your skull like that.’
Isiah grinned, embarrassed to feel himself blush. He turned to face her, momentarily taking his eyes off the road altogether. She was startlingly beautiful. ‘I’m impressed. That’s better than Superman in the phone box.’
‘Thanks. So we’re going to the airport, are we?’
‘What’s your name?’ The woman looked at him with hooded eyes. Suspicious. Isiah smiled. ‘All right, put it another way. What should I call you? I’m Isiah.’
The woman nodded. ‘Isiah. Interesting. You can call me Petra.’
‘Is that your name?’
‘Actually, yes. I think I can trust you, at least with my first name. So, the airport?’
Isiah nodded. ‘This guy Frank is going to be returning to his master today. I don’t know where his master is, but I do know that Frank needs to fly there. I was staking him out in the hope of finding his master, a guy called the Sorcerer.’
Petra laughed. ‘Corny.’
‘I suppose so, but that’s the only name I know him by. He leads the ONC. They call him Dominus.’
‘Ah, yes. Well, I’m aware of the Dominus. Who calls him Sorcerer?’
‘Some of his closest disciples. Well, certainly one that I know of, but that disciple is very dead now.’
Petra watched Isiah as he drove. He could feel her scrutiny. ‘And what is your reason for tracking him,’ she asked after a moment.
‘Well, this very dead disciple I mentioned caused a lot of trouble. The Sorcerer is the man that made him and I want to stop him making any more.’
‘This man you call the Sorcerer,’ Petra said. ‘He has many disciples. His organisation is bigger than you realise. You’ve barely scratched the surface.’
‘I’m beginning to realise that. So maybe you can tell me more about it? And who you are and what your connection is?’
Petra smiled. ‘Maybe. Let’s see where this little chase leads us first, shall we?’
‘Fair enough. We’re just about there.’
It was over two hours before Isiah finally gave up. Petra had been patient with him. They scoured the car parks looking for Frank’s battered Ford. They searched every level of the airport they could, even slipping through immigration into the departure lounges, using a little mental manipulation. Isiah had been impressed with Petra’s ability, her psychic persuasion soft and delicate. But eventually he gave up. ‘I can’t believe we’ve lost him.’
‘You don’t know for certain that he was coming to this airport though, right?’
They headed out through the main doors, back towards Isiah’s car. ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘He said he was flying out.’
‘There are lots of small aerodromes and things like that around. He didn’t have to use the main airport. You have a lot to learn about this ONC, Isiah. They have a lot of money.’
He looked down at Petra. She stood a couple of inches shorter than he did, but Isiah was tall. ‘Private jets and stuff like that?’
Petra laughed. ‘Absolutely. And then some. We’ve seen this group expend enormous amounts of money, seemingly on a whim.’
‘And who are we?’ Isiah asked. ‘Are you going to tell me a bit more about yourself now?’
Petra drew in a long, deep breath. ‘We are an ancient and secret order. I risk a lot to tell you anything.’
‘But you and I, we’re similar in many ways. We have a lot more in common with each other than we do with regular folk.’
‘True. This is the only reason that I’m with you now. You fascinate me. There’s something special about you. Tell you what. Why don’t you start by telling me something about yourself?’
Isiah nodded. ‘Fair enough. Seems like a fair trade. But it’s a tough question to answer.’
‘Try anyway.’
‘Okay. A long time ago I was... selected, if you like, by an entity called the Balance. The Balance exists to keep some level of equality in power between all the gods. I’m the agent of that entity here in the mortal Realm and I have to push and shove people and gods around a bit to keep that Balance. Variety is the key, you see. All the things that people believe must have a chance or humanity’s free will is removed. If that happens then one god could become all powerful and effectively enslave humanity.’
Petra had stopped walking and looked up at Isiah from beneath her hair. ‘Really?’
He laughed. ‘Yeah, well I know how it sounds. This isn’t something that’s easy to sum up. I’m trying to give you the abridged version.’
‘How old are you?’
He shrugged. ‘I lose count these days. The centuries start running together after the first few.’
Petra nodded, her expression revealing little, yet Isiah could see something there that bothered him. There was a kind of knowing there, like she had knowledge about him that he didn’t have himself. ‘By what other names are you known?’ she asked.
‘None really. There are a couple of entities, Satan for example, that call me the Interferer. But that’s more of a nickname.’ He grinned impishly. ‘I used to be called Edward, but that was before... all this.’
Petra raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re on first name terms with the Devil? He has a nickname for you?’
Isiah laughed. ‘Old Nick gets a lot of bad press. He’s not so bad. A necessity, really.’
‘The Devil? Not so bad?’
‘Not really. Yahweh, Allah, these multiple entities, they are childish, needy, egotistical gods. Creatures like Satan oppose and balance their presence to some extent.’
Petra’s eyes narrowed. ‘But the Devil is evil. You talk of gods as children and the Devil as not so bad. But the Devil personifies evil.’
Isiah shook his head. ‘No. People personify evil. And they personify gods and devils and create them in their image. It’s a complicated situation that I have to try to keep in some kind of order, depending on the word of the Balance.’
Petra nodded, her expression opaque. ‘I wonder...,’ she mused.
‘Wonder what?’ Isiah frowned. ‘You’re freaking me out a little bit.’
Petra smiled. ‘Your work. You say it involves maintaining a balance. That must mean that sometimes you have to do... unsavoury things?’
Isiah nodded, his expression pained. ‘There are times when innocents must die for the greater good.’
‘The needs of the many?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Let me take you to meet my people,’ Petra said decisively. ‘There may be others that know more and can explain more to you. Then again, there may not.’
Isiah rolled his eyes. ‘Cryptic! At least I might learn more about you.’
‘You might.’
They had reached his car and stood either side of it, Isiah by the driver’s door. He looked across the roof at Petra. ‘So where are we headed?’
‘Well, nowhere that a car can take us. Are you particularly attached to it?’
‘Not really.’
‘I take it you can keep up with me if I travel in a less conventional manner?’
‘I caught you once. I can do it again.’ Isiah smiled at the dark look that crossed Petra’s face. ‘Especially if you want me to catch you.’
‘I asked if you could keep up. What makes you think I have any desire for you to catch me?’
Isiah laughed. ‘Wishful thinking, perhaps.’
‘Get in the car.’
They drove out of town, heading towards less populated areas. Petra had told him that somewhere peaceful was required where they would not be found. He didn’t want to tell her that he could travel very simply and all she needed to do was put an image of their destination in his mind. At this stage he was unsure of the extent of her powers, as she was unaware of how powerful he was. She was a damn good fighter, but he had beaten her. Relatively easily at that. Her ability to manipulate matter, her ability to hide, her sensitivity to his presence before, all these things indicated that her power was broad and her strengths could lie in areas other than fighting. He was happy to play this her way in the hope of learning more about her while revealing as little of himself as possible.
Before long there were woods and the foothills of mountains all around. As they passed through a small town Petra said, ‘Why don’t we leave the car here?’
Isiah spotted two teenagers sitting on a fence, looking as bored as only teenagers can. He pulled up beside them. ‘Hi there.’
They looked at him suspiciously. One was chewing gum, his breath making condensed puffs in the cold air. ‘Hey,’ he said warily.
Isiah smiled. ‘Either of you two got a licence to drive?’
The one with the gum nodded towards his friend. ‘He does. Why?’
Isiah turned to address the other. ‘You got a car?’ The teenager shook his head. ‘You want one?’
The kid with the gum laughed. ‘Say what? You like young boys, is that it?’
Petra laughed from the passenger seat. Isiah shot her an amused glare. ‘Let’s just say I’m very generous,’ he said, addressing the teenager with the licence again. ‘I’m at my journey’s end and I don’t need this car any more. He pulled a pen and the ownership papers out of the glove box and signed off on them, leaving the new owner details blank. Getting out of the car, leaving the engine running, he handed the papers to the teenager. Petra got out of the car and moved casually onto the pavement beside the road. ‘Don’t forget to fill in your details,’ Isiah said. ‘And get some insurance.’
The two teenagers looked at each other. ‘Are you serious, man?’ asked the one with the gum.
Isiah nodded once. ‘Yep. You guys have fun. But drive safe and no terrorising the neighbourhood!’
The two young men looked at each other again and then leapt off the fence and into the car. With a whoop and a ‘Thanks mister!’ they roared off, spraying gravel as they went.
‘I think they’re making sure they put some distance between themselves and you before you change your mind,’ said Petra, a smile in her eyes.
Isiah watch the car skid on the cold, damp road as they took a corner too fast, then they were gone. ‘I just hope I haven’t killed them. Let’s hope they’re smart enough to enjoy it.’
‘That was a pretty kind thing you did there.’
‘The car would have just sat and rusted somewhere otherwise until the state took it away and auctioned. Spread the love, eh?’
Petra shrugged, smiling. ‘I guess so. You’re an interesting man, Isiah.’
‘Glad you think so.’
They walked into the woods, heading deep among the trees, far away from the town. Before long Petra decided they were concealed enough and suggested they sit. Isiah sat opposite, cross-legged, the soft bed of pine needles fragrant, cool, comfortable. ‘I want to take you to my home,’ Petra said, watching him closely. ‘It’s where I was raised and trained. It’s the only place that is absolutely sacred to me and I risk a lot taking you there. But I think I’m making the right decision.’
Isiah made a reassuring face. ‘I won’t do anything to embarrass you.’
‘Can you travel between places without moving? We call it Sliding, moving from the corporeal to the astral and back again, transferring our location.’
Isiah nodded. ‘I call it Shifting or Travelling. Capital T.’
‘I see. I’ve heard it referred to as Shifting before. So you are able to Shift easily?’
‘Certainly. But I need to know where I’m going. I need to have seen it before, physically or astrally, doesn’t matter.’
Petra reached out and put her fingertips very softly against his temples. Her touch was warm and delicate and he felt a slight surge pass through him. He knew she hadn’t begun anything yet, it was simply her touch that thrilled him. He hadn’t been attracted to a woman like this for a long time. It was rare that he found a woman that could understand him, could empathise with him, with his life. He wondered how mortal Petra was. Her powers belied someone that had more experience than her physical appearance of age would suggest.
‘Not as old as you, but I’ve seen centuries pass,’ she said, almost a whisper under her breath.
With a start he realised that she was connected to his mind. She had heard his thought as clearly as if he had spoken it. Her ability was incredibly subtle. He hoped she had only heard his thought regarding her age and quickly blanked his mind before he gave away anything else that might embarrass him. He saw the corners of Petra’s mouth twitch slightly, as if suppressing a smile.
‘I’m going to give you an image,’ she said, and Isiah’s mind was flooded with information. The first sensation was extreme cold, a wind whipping in fits and bursts, snow, ice, rocks. He closed his eyes and saw a picture in his mind of a mountainside, sharp and rugged. Tufts of yellowing grass hung to cracks between rocks, their tips dragged and pushed by a jittery wind. As he looked around the image in his mind he found himself near the top of a mountain in a range that stretched forever in every direction. Some peaks hidden in cloud, some higher than his position, some lower.
‘The Himalayas?’ he asked.
Petra’s voice was in his mind now, not travelling through the air to reach his ears. ‘Yes. These peaks are in what is currently called the Tibet Autonomous Region, not far from the borders of Sichuan and Qinghai Provinces. Do you know the region.’
‘Vaguely. There aren’t many places that I haven’t been. But I don’t know these ranges well. I couldn’t really tell one part from another.’
‘It’s okay. As long as you know what to expect we can Shift together. Look up the slope.’
He followed her instruction, turning to look further up the peak in his mind’s eye. A collection of buildings spread across the mountainside, linked with walkways, some across sharp chasms hundreds of feet deep. The buildings looked to be moulded into the rockface, carved from it. The whole complex completely inaccessible on foot. It would be virtually invisible from anything more than a few hundred feet away. The buildings, the same dark grey stone as the mountains, had tiled roofs in the Chinese style. Snow piled against the tiles and in the corners of the walls. Dragon’s heads protruded from the corner of each shiny, corrugated roof, icicles hanging, wet, glassy. Round windows with dark red detailing dotted along the walls. The buildings seemed to be in something of a random order, but they all appeared to surround the largest which stood more or less in the centre, the whole structure like a deeply complex mandala. The main, central hall, a massive building, glowed with orange light from inside. A large paved area in front of the hall, a low stone fence all around it, protruded into space as the mountainside dropped away. Yet for all its detail, it seemed a part of the mountain, blended with the rock.
Petra drew Isiah’s mind up onto the paved courtyard, the flagstones worn by centuries of feet and weather. Small stone benches stood all around the edges, snow-covered, and a snow-filled fountain showing a dragon in combat with a tiger stood against the wall of the hall. ‘We will travel here,’ her voice said in his mind. ‘Keep this place in your imagination. I’ll Shift us, but you have to help. I can’t actually carry you with me, I don’t have that kind of power.’
He decided to let Petra in on a little of his own power. He reached his mind out to her and wrapped his will about her. ‘I can carry us both,’ he said, not using his voice now either. ‘Just show me the way.’
Petra made a small sound. Isiah hoped it was an expression of how impressed she was, but was not convinced that was it. She began to Travel, slowly dissipating from their current location. Her method was slow and cautious. Isiah was patient, keen to avoid rushing her or dragging her along. Once she was committed to her course of action he took over, following her lead and carrying them both to that stretched, soundless, lightless place of nothing that existed between all the Realms. In moments the heavy weight of corporeality dragged on them again and sudden biting wind pushed at them violently. Petra ran for the cover of a small porch beside the fountain and he followed, holding up the collar of his leather jacket against the elements.
Petra looked up at him. ‘Winter is not the best time to visit here, but we have no control over that.’
Isiah nodded, a half smile tugging at his lips. ‘No matter. I’m pretty bloody impressed regardless. The way we just got here, that’s the only access really, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. You have to be brought here by someone and then you need to learn these methods if you ever plan to go anywhere alone. We’ve been hidden for a very long time and this is one of the secrets of our success.’ She pulled open the door, though not before Isiah sensed a surge of MageSign that lingered after they passed into the shelter of the building.
The anteroom they entered was simple. Flagstone floor, candle lamps burning on the walls, otherwise empty. Except for two men, young looking and serious, wearing robes the same dark grey as Petra’s clothing when she was in ninja mode. They smiled at Petra, nodding. ‘Sister,’ one of them said in Mandarin Chinese. ‘You’ve brought a guest home with you?’
Isiah spoke up, keen to let them know he understood their language. He understood most languages and knew it was rude to let people think otherwise. ‘My name is Isiah,’ he said fluently. ‘An honour to make your acquaintance.’ He bowed formally.
The two men returned his bow and Petra looked at him with that amused expression again. Isiah was annoyed at the way he seemed to entertain her rather than impress her.
‘Is our Master here?’ Petra asked the man that had spoken to her.
‘Yes, he’s here. He will be leading a class shortly. We are just about to begin. Perhaps you will join the class and speak with him afterwards?’ The man looked from Petra to Isiah.
Petra spoke. ‘I will join the class. Perhaps Isiah would like to watch.’
He heard the emphasis, the kind of spoken gravitas that gives an otherwise ordinary word extraordinary meaning. He was keen to learn as much about these people and their activities as possible. ‘Certainly,’ he said. ‘I would be very interested to watch you train. What sort of class?’
‘We have many disciplines here,’ Petra told him. ‘It could be any one of many. Our teacher will decide.’
The two men led them through another door into the main hall. It was a massive place. Large engraved columns stood against the walls between each window, widening at the floor and again at the ceiling some fifty feet above them. More of the stone benches lined the walls. The floor was the same large, worn flagstones as the courtyard outside. Lights were spaced at intervals around the room, small orbs like tiny suns. They emanated MageSign. Isiah imagined they had burned there for a very long time. Hanging from the ceiling, suspended without any visible structure, a huge set of bones, long, serpentine, wings spread wide. Isiah smiled.
A group of some fifty or sixty people, men and women of all ages, gathered in the centre of the room. The hall could easily have accommodated ten times that number. Before them stood an old man, old even by Isiah’s standards. Immediately he felt the man’s longevity and power. Evidently he also felt Isiah’s presence, as he turned, looked Isiah directly in the eye. A smile spread across his face, which he then turned to Petra.
He stood before them and Isiah jumped having not seen or felt the old man move. ‘Welcome back, daughter,’ the man said. ‘You have brought with you an interesting guest.’
Petra bowed to the man, low, deeply respectful. ‘Yes, Master. I believe he may be important to us.’
The man nodded and turned to Isiah, bowing. Isiah returned the gesture, showing his respect by bending further than the old man had. ‘My name is Isiah.’
The old teacher smiled benignly. ‘That may be one of your names,’ he said. ‘Welcome to the Temple of the Dragons. I am Cai Wu.’
Isiah bowed again. ‘Master Cai,’ he said.
Cai Wu stepped back. ‘We will practice now. Please, make yourself comfortable and we will talk more later.’
Isiah nodded. ‘Of course.’ He gestured up towards the ceiling. ‘There’s at least one still alive, you know.’
Petra made a small sound of disbelief. ‘Not for centuries!’
Master Cai smiled again. ‘They are gods to us.’
Isiah bowed, retreating to the side of the hall to sit on one of the stone benches. He was surprised that it wasn’t at all cold, then realised that the whole room was a comfortable temperature. He imagined that it always was, regardless of the season. A fascinating place he had found himself led to. He sat back to watch the class practice.
The one known to his people as Dominus sat in the cold cellar and shuddered. It was not the chill that got to him, but the feeling that things were beyond his control. The presence of Yath-vados in his mind, constant, powerful, draining. The stone sarcophagus at the back of the cellar stood immobile, though it appeared to shift and warp in the flickering light of candles. Occasionally a soft, deep moan lifted from it, floating in the silence like an odour. The Sorcerer sat turned away from his charge, his bowed back to the grey stone. ‘It’s consuming!’ he cried.
His face twisted and winced, his eyes looking up and down as he listened to something. ‘You made me destroy my home. You made me run and hide. What am I hiding from?’
Again he cowered as he listened. There seemed to be more than just a voice to the presence in his mind, as though the words themselves were heavy to his physical body. ‘But we can be so powerful already!’ he shouted at the empty cellar. ‘This level of magic, this hiding. I don’t know how long I can carry on.’
After a moment more his face creased in confusion again. ‘What is always there?’
Another few seconds and his shoulders slumped resignedly. ‘Of course.’ He took a deep breath and sat up straighter. Then one eyebrow raised in surprise. ‘Move where? Really? Well, at least the climate should be better.’ A smile spread across the old man’s face as he listened. ‘Very well, my lord. Very well.’ He stood, strode to the steps leading upstairs. His step had a spring that had not been present for some time.
A voice sounded from the front of the house. ‘Dominus?’
The Sorcerer turned to the front door. ‘Come on in, Chris. You don’t need an invitation.’
Chris smiled as he entered. ‘I didn’t want to disturb anything by arriving unannounced. How are things? All going well?’
‘Things are progressing nicely. However, we have to move soon, so you and Jake had better start making preparations. You can come with us or stay and look after the Gather here. What would you prefer?’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Chris replied without pause. ‘We really have to move again?’
‘You know how important it is to keep safe. Organise someone to take over the Gather here.’
They had walked towards the lounge with the huge fire, still burning, orange light dancing. The Sorcerer sat in his customary position and gestured for Chris to relax.
‘Where are we going?’ Chris asked.
The Sorcerer smiled. ‘I’ll tell you when it’s necessary for you to know.’
Chris pursed his lips. ‘We’ve always been a secret society,’ he said cautiously. ‘We’ve kept our secrets well. Why so much more secrecy now?’
‘We are doing things that are unprecedented, my boy. If we are to succeed, we must be very careful.’
Chris nodded. ‘I realise that it is something massive that we’re doing.’
The Sorcerer watched him closely. ‘But?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Something is troubling you. You can be honest with me, you know that. Voice your concerns.’
Chris watched his Dominus for a moment before turning his eyes to the flames. ‘There are some that question our direction.’
‘And in what way do they question?’
Chris took a deep breath. ‘We’ve always been a secret order, Dominus, and a powerful order. We do things that ordinary people don’t even believe in. But we’ve never been a religious order.’
‘Your point?’
‘There are those that question the direction of the ONC in recent years. We always worshipped the blood itself, never a god. Yet over the last few years you have led us towards this worship of Yath-vados the deity rather than blood, the concept. The ideal.’
The Sorcerer nodded, his face serious. ‘And there are people raising these issues at your Gather?’
‘A few people are concerned. Many people in our order are atheists. Many believe in the magic, but not in superior beings. It’s difficult for them.’
‘And yet we also attract new members that are drawn to our god. Drawn to our unique relationship with a god that we know exists.’
Chris made a wry face. ‘Some are suggesting that the god doesn’t exist. It’s an attempt to gain greater control.’
The Sorcerer laughed. ‘Greater control? Ours is a philosophy of anarchy. If we are a religion, anarchy and disruption is our credo. We guide and offer direction, but we don’t control. Yath-vados is not a symbol of control.’
Chris nodded again, but his face betrayed his doubts. ‘But we were never a religious order,’ he ventured again.
The Sorcerer sat back in his chair. ‘For many years, Chris, I have used the blood. For many more years than you can imagine. I was introduced to the ways of blood magic before electric light or the motor car. And I’ve always known that the blood is a tool, something tangible to focus the mind and I have taught you that. But we always gave thanks to the blood.’ He looked Chris directly in the eye, pinned him with his powerful gaze. ‘Well, eventually the blood began to speak to me.’
Chris, held by his master’s gaze, said nothing. But his eyes gave access to his thoughts and he wondered at the sanity of such a statement. The Sorcerer laughed. ‘I sound mad to you?’ he asked. ‘I know. I thought myself mad at first.’
‘What did it say?’ Chris asked.
‘At first it was just the fever of nightmares. I thought myself under attack by some old enemy. Yet the contact persisted and I began to get curious. As I listened harder it became clearer. Eventually it gave me its name.’
‘There’s a lot of power in knowing a true name,’ Chris said.
The Sorcerer smiled again. ‘And once I knew its name, I knew its purpose. And when I knew its purpose, I knew we had discovered something more powerful than we could ever have imagined. It became obvious that we had a course to follow.’
There was quiet between the two men for a while. Eventually Chris said, ‘You consider this is the natural progression of the ONC? You think that all along we were being led to this? You were being led to this?’
‘Yes.’
‘But the ONC is your creation. Don’t gods create things rather than the other way around?’
‘Who is to say that this was not the will of Yath-vados all along?’
Chris stared hard at the fire. ‘Perhaps this is the word we should be spreading through the Gathers. Perhaps this will put dissenting minds at ease.’
The Sorcerer nodded decisively. ‘Very well. Let it be told throughout the Gathers around the world. At first there was the blood. There has always been blood. And then there was our magic and praise of the blood. Our praise gave rise to the power of the true god of blood and his name is Yath-vados. I was blessed with the knowledge of his true name. Now all that we do, we do in his name. Let it be known that this is not a change in direction but a natural development. Our power and the possibilities before us are truly unprecedented in the world of men and they are possible through our Lord Yath-vados.’
Chris nodded, his face a mask of orange and shadows as he stared into the flames. His eyes bore their own fire, that of zealotry and passion for the man that gave his life meaning. ‘I will spread the word,’ he said. ‘I will commune with the other leaders tonight.’
The Sorcerer stared up at the ceiling, smiling at something beyond himself and Chris, something beyond their Realm. ‘Good lad,’ he replied. ‘And then begin preparations for our move.’
Faith lay in the large bed feeling better than she ever had before. Lars had returned to her the night before, as he promised he would. Everyone else had gone and she had sat in a leather chair, basking in the wonder of what she had seen. The feeling of bliss still permeated the room and she was happy to let it soak into her, sitting there as if in a hot bath, fragrant with oils. And Lars had returned and taken her in his arms and led her upstairs. They spoke little before falling asleep together.
The bright light of morning glowed through the curtains, the heat of the day already strong. They lay naked on top of the bedsheets. Faith watched the slightest of breezes lifting a light curtain that covered an open window. A satisfied smile spread across her face.
‘You’re happy then?’
Faith jumped at Lars’s voice. ‘You’re awake,’ she said, embarrassed.
Lars nodded, kissing her. ‘As are you.’
‘Did I really see the things I thought I saw last night?’
Lars laughed. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think I did, but it can’t be real. How can it be real?’
‘You don’t believe in magic? Aren’t you the white witch?’
Faith’s eyes narrowed. Was he mocking her? ‘It’s not that I don’t believe in magic... but...’
‘Either you believe or you don’t. And if you believe, then why is it so strange to have seen it?’
‘I just never thought I would ever see magic so clearly. So obviously.’
Lars pulled himself into a sitting position, nodding. ‘You see, that’s so often the problem with people. They believe in things, even things as simple as causes for a better world, yet they don’t really think they will happen. What kind of belief is that? People seem to believe from a third party perspective. They like the idea but don’t think they can actually do anything about it.’
‘And your society...’
‘Our society.’
Faith smiled. ‘Our society thinks differently.’
‘Exactly. The ONC is an organisation that actively works to change things. We long ago recognised that we cannot work within the rule of the law as laid down in the land. In any land. The law is oppression. We need to aggressively force change. And we are being rewarded for our efforts.’
Faith looked deep into Lars’s eyes. ‘Yath-vados?’
Lars smiled that intoxicating smile again. ‘Yath-vados,’ he said. ‘Our god is present among us and aids us.’
‘Really?’
‘I have seen him.’
Faith’s eyes narrowed again. ‘Where? When?’
‘There are those in our organisation that possess great power, far greater than my own. There are those that can summon our Lord to appear. At least, His avatar, the presence that He is able to reveal here. I have seen this. It is unclear, but it is our god.’
Faith was lost in reverie. ‘That is something I would like to see,’ she whispered.
‘And one day you will.’
‘But I also believe in other gods,’ Faith said. ‘The pagan gods of old. Not the monotheistic gods of modern religion, but real, old gods.’
Lars nodded. ‘The Celtic gods?’
‘Yes. Cernunnos, The Morigan, the All-Father Dagda and his beautiful daughter Brigid. These are gods that I believe were real.’
‘Are real.’
Faith looked sharply at Lars. ‘Are? But your god is Yath-vados.’
He grinned. ‘There is room for all. You said yourself, the monotheistic beliefs are those of the new religions. Yath-vados is an ancient god, as are the pagan gods you speak of. There’s room for all.’
Faith settled back into her pillows. ‘I like that idea,’ she said.
‘Inclusive, not exclusive,’ Lars said into her ear, kissing her.
They breakfasted together and chatted about normal things, acting like a couple. Faith was amazed that she had known this man for such a short time yet it seemed that they had been together for ever. It seemed like destiny. Again she reminded herself that she wasn’t falling in love. But this man, the ONC, the meeting. These things were incredible. She could not help but consider that her choice to leave, the timing of her decision, was fated.
After breakfast Lars informed her that he had things to attend to and would have to leave her to her own devices.
‘Can I see you again tonight?’ she asked. Already the thought of being without him was painful.
‘Collect your things and move here,’ Lars said, smiling broadly.
For a moment Faith was stunned speechless. ‘Move in here? With you?’
He nodded, laughing. ‘I don’t live alone here. There are other members of the ONC that stay here and we often host international ONC guests. But yes, move in here with me. I’ve told you, you’re special. It is rare to find someone with the kind of potential you have. I’m going to fast-track your entry into Sanctum and I want you here, by my side.’
Faith’s expression was bewildered. She pulled nervously at her hair. ‘Things are happening so fast,’ she murmured.
Lars took her chin in his hand and tipped her face up. He planted one of those hot, encompassing kisses on her lips. ‘Don’t fear the change. Embrace it.’ The feeling of safety and warmth flooded through her again. She was sure there would never be anything else in her life that could make her feel like this. ‘I have wonders beyond imagination to show you,’ he said.
She nodded. ‘I’ll get my things and come back here.’
Lars handed her a key from his pocket. ‘Here. This is yours now. I may not be around much tonight, it’s probable that I won’t see you until tomorrow. But treat this place as if it were your home. Feed yourself, look after yourself and my bedroom is yours now.’
‘You really might not be back today?’
‘I’m sorry, darling. The work of the ONC is demanding for someone in my position. But don’t worry. We have a future to look forward to that one night apart won’t damage in the least.’
She nodded. She should be careful not to seem like a needy teenager. Lars treated her like a woman, called her special, full of potential. She should try to act that way. The moment was interrupted by a sudden shrill beep. Embarrassed, she grabbed her bag and pulled out her phone.
Lars’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who’s that?’
‘It’s my mother. She’s been ringing and texting for the last couple of days.’
He nodded. ‘She’s probably frantic since you ran away. Do they know anything of your leaving, your family?’
Faith shook her head. ‘I left a note, that’s all. I told them I was trapped and couldn’t take it any more. I said that I was going to the city and that I would call when I was ready.’
‘You haven’t contacted them yet?’
‘No.’
‘Send your mother a text. Tell her that you’re safe and sound and you’ll contact her under your own terms, not hers.’
Faith tipped her head to one side. ‘Really?’
‘Of course. Don’t let your mother die of worry. But don’t give in to her need to control you either.’
She thumbed the keys of her phone rapidly for a few moments. ‘How’s this,’ she asked. ‘Mum, stop panicking. I’m safe and happy. I’ll call you when I’m ready.’
Lars nodded, smiling. ‘Perfect. Send that.’ She pressed the Send key. Lars reached out a hand. ‘Now let me have the phone.’
‘Why?’
‘Give yourself to us, Faith. You want to run away and you want to be with us. If you have a phone in your pocket that has your mother on the other end every five minutes, your thinking will be blurred and disrupted. I’ll leave the phone switched off. When you are ready to call your mother, you just let me know.’
Faith held her phone nervously. Was this the right thing to do? Lars leaned forward, kissing her again. The feeling of his secure power swept over her. ‘Trust me, love,’ he whispered against her lips. ‘Let me lead you to wonder.’
As he stepped back from her he took her phone. She let it slip from her hand without resistance. Lars turned the phone off and dropped it into a pocket. ‘I have to go, my love,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
As his hand emerged again from his pocket Faith noticed a spot of blood on his finger. He kissed her again and strode from the room. Awash in a strange combination of ecstasy and doubt Faith stood still for several minutes. A sudden raucous cry made her jump. Looking out the window she saw a large black crow on the ledge, its head tipping from side to side. It was looking directly at her, one eye then the other. With a chuckle Faith left the house and headed for the hostel to collect her things. The crow flapped angrily away.
I’m glad we’re moving on, Jake thought to himself, remembering his recent conversation with Chris. The child’s appetite for blood seemed insatiable and going out every night for new victims was too dangerous. There were only so many people that could go missing unnoticed. Tonight he had driven a long way, towards the town of Bradford, to look for someone. He found a quiet country pub that was crowded with drinkers, sheltering from the English winter with a beer and a roaring hearth. An old fashioned pub, low ceilings, dark wooden beams, worn flagstone floor. Jake made one quick circuit inside, surreptitiously using his blood and his magic to ensure that no one would remember his face. It was possible that he could talk to someone inside, convince them to accompany him somehow as he had done many times before. But he grew tired of this. His frustration at the course of recent events lent him an edge of anger that was usually only sated in violence and risk.
The pub was on a quiet, dark road without much else nearby. Jake backed his car out and parked a hundred yards or so up the shiny, black road. He put on the hazard lights and took a jack and wheel brace from the boot. Within moments the front end of the car was jacked up and he was heading back towards the pub on foot.
The pub stood back from the road behind a small gravelled car park. He stood by a hedge at the entrance to the car park and watched the door. After a few minutes, a couple emerged from the bright, glowing building, waving farewells to unseen friends inside. Jake watched grimly as they got into a car and drove out onto the road. He sank into the shadows as they passed. Once they were out of sight he leaned around the hedge again. Waiting.
Another few minutes and the door swung open, the evident warmth of the pub inside lending a deeper chill to Jake as he stood too far away to feel it. A young man emerged, pulling his coat tight around his neck. He was alone as the door swung closed behind him and he walked towards the road with the exaggerated gait of one not drunk, but not entirely sober. Jake’s lips curled in a predatory smile. He took a couple of steps back then jogged around the hedge, straight into the path of the young man.
‘Oh, sorry mate!’
The young man nodded, non-committal. ‘It’s all right.’ He made to walk around Jake.
‘Mate, could you give me a hand? I was just coming here to see if anyone could help me.’
‘What sort of a hand?’
Jake pointed back over his shoulder. ‘My car’s just a little way down there. I got a blow out. I can change the wheel easily enough normally, but one of the bolts seems wedged. I can’t bloody shift it!’
The young man shrugged. ‘So what makes you think I can? You’re twice the size of me.’
Jake laughed. ‘True enough. But I reckon two people, one either side of the wheel brace, could shift it. Come on, mate, lend me hand? It’s just there look. You can see the hazard lights from here.’
The young man looked past Jake to the car down the darkened road. He glanced back the other way, presumably the direction he really wanted to go, then shrugged again. ‘Sure. Whatever.’
Jake slapped him heartily on the shoulder as they headed towards the jacked up car. ‘Thanks, man. I really appreciate it. I’m Dave.’
‘Michael.’
Jake and Michael walked to the car and looked down at the wheel suspended by the jack. The large metal cross of the wheel brace lay on the road where Jake had dropped it, fleshing out his scenario. As Michael looked at the supposedly blown out tyre, Jake looked up and down the road. It was dark and still. Damp, black silence hung in the frosty air.
Michael looked up again and his brow creased at Jake’s broad grin. ‘What...?’ The question was cut short as Jake’s leather gloved hand struck him hard across the cheek, open palm making a dull slap. He cried out, grabbing his face as he fell back against the car.
Jake stepped up and grabbed Michael’s throat in one vice-like hand, struck him heavily across the face again with the back of the other hand. Blood and spittle flew from torn lips. He cried out again, began thrashing his own balled fists against Jake’s head and the arm that held him fast. ‘What the fuck...?’
Jake shook off the blows and put his free hand behind Michael’s head. With a sharp pull he bent the smaller man over his fast rising knee. A crunch of cartilage from Michael’s nose and a howl of pain. Jake stepped back, letting his victim stagger into the road. He watched the blood pour from Michael’s face with glee and held up his hands to watch the blood, blackened by the leather and the night, drip and run to the sleeves of his coat.
Michael began to stumble down the road, back in the direction of the pub. Jake raised one hand and barked four short, harsh words. Michael stiffened as if he had been shocked with a bolt of electricity. He stood unnaturally straight, arms at his sides, trembling. His fingers flexed beside him, clawing at the air.
Jake walked around to stare into the blood-stained face, eyes wide with pain and terror, breath coming in short, laboured gasps, quick, brief clouds in the cold air. Jake hauled back his right hand and stared deep into Michael’s eyes. ‘Yath-vados, my lord,’ he hissed. ‘Nothing worthwhile is ever born without blood. If it means their blood, so be it!’ And his hand shot forward, striking the immobilised Michael square in the face, sending him flying backwards, sprawling across the cold, wet road. Not completely unconscious, but with Jake’s spell broken, he moaned and twisted on the asphalt, attempting to crawl away. Jake grabbed him by the back of his coat and trousers and half dragged, half carried him to the car. He threw the young man into the back seat. He reached up beseechingly as Jake stood over the back of the car. Jake laughed and pistoned another punch, Michael jerking completely unconscious. Jake closed up the car, removed the jack and hopped in. He pulled a U-turn and drove back towards his Dominus and the child that needed blood.
In a dark and hideous Realm, that seemed to be expanding, something smiled broadly and revelled in its fast improving strength.