Cai Wu sat at the head of the table. For the first time they had moved from the informal meetings on the floor of his quarters to a far more serious arrangement. The old man’s face was concerned. The others at the table sat quietly, watching him or watching their hands, some watching each other. Isiah sat beside Petra and could not help feeling as though all eyes were on him. He didn’t expect them to understand, but he would try to help them see. ‘Your decision is interesting, Isiah,’ the old man said.
‘I know. You have to try to see this from my perspective.’
‘And what perspective is that?’ asked one of the other Umbra Magi at the table. ‘The perspective of not caring if a young girl lives or dies?’
Isiah took a deep breath. They could not help being angry. People were usually angry at something they didn’t understand. ‘It is not a case of helping or not. It’s not necessarily my job to help.’
‘Unless it suits your ends?’
‘The ends are not mine. I live an existence that is a dichotomy. I interfere or assist and every time it’s a value judgment. Usually I have help in those decisions. This time I’m on my own.’
‘And you judge this young girl’s life worthless?’ Another Umbra Magus that didn’t comprehend.
‘No. I judge her to be integral. Removing her would be an interference that would potentially upset the balance of this thing. She is important to them. She has a role to play with them.’ He decided to try to explain from the beginning. ‘Look at it like this. We saw a girl that was inside this cult and we thought we might be able to use her. If we could gather information from her, it could be valuable. If we exposed her, we might be risking her life, but that was a chance I was willing to take. At no point was there any consideration that we were going to save her from the clutches of this cult. That’s not our concern right now. This cult is massive. The more we look, the more we discover of its size and impetus. Removing one member would do nothing to slow the activities of the cult.
‘As it turns out, we discovered that the girl is very close to the centre of activities. It could be argued that removing her would greatly disrupt the cult’s activity, change their plans, accelerate their plans, whatever. We don’t know. So now this girl becomes too much of a lynchpin. She needs to live her own destiny.’
Cai Wu made a noise under his breath, a sound of thoughtfulness. ‘But you are still willing to use her for information. You said yourself that these people are laying traps in her mind. They are onto you, no? Does that not contradict your explanation? You should leave her well alone, by your own set of rules.’
Isiah shrugged. ‘I’m an imperfect man. While there is a chance to learn something from her, I want to take that chance. But removing her is too big a chance to take. I told you, it’s a value judgment on my part and I don’t know if it’s the right one. I think that by now we, myself, you guys and the ONC, are all aware of each other. At least to some degree. So we play a delicate game of chance.’
‘Perhaps it is time to consult your... acquaintances again?’
Isiah was aware that Cai Wu was trying to nudge things in a direction that would gain them all more information. He had already considered this himself and had every intention of challenging the Balance again. Something was awry. ‘I intend to. But I don’t think it will do any good.’
Cai Wu nodded, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. The movement was like a punctuation mark in the conversation. A full stop. A new paragraph began. ‘A number of cult members are moving in a seemingly similar direction, but they are being very careful. Meera?’
‘Many of us have been following the movements of the cult cells around Australia. They are all over the country like lice on a mangy dog, but they are starting to move. We can follow them up to a point, but they guard themselves with ever increasing vigilance. As they move away from towns it begins to get much easier for them to spot us should we follow. Perhaps this is why they are heading into the outback.’ She pronounced it like two words, out back. ‘Apart from the added seclusion for whatever they are planning, they can ensure they are not followed there too.’
Another Magus raised a hand to attract attention. ‘I must agree.’ His expression was embarrassed. ‘I tried to follow and thought my skills up to the task. But they are being incredibly thorough. I was spotted and run down and I tried to escape without a fight. But a fight was inevitable. I injured one or two of them quite badly before having enough time and space to slip away. They are taking their privacy very seriously. Physically and magically.’
‘And they’re onto you but don’t care.’ The group turned to look at Isiah when he spoke. ‘Whatever is imminent, nothing will sway them from their course of action. They will run you down and kill you if they can, but if you get away, they will ignore you and continue with their primary purpose. They are focussed on their goal as it’s obviously the most important thing to them. I mean no offence to anyone here, but who is really capable of remaining undetected? How many of you really have the skills to get close?’
The people around the table remained quiet. Isiah recognised humility in them. None of them wanted to admit that they might have what it took. He looked to Cai Wu. ‘Perhaps you could speak for your disciples?’
Cai Wu nodded. ‘Everyone here, and many other Magi, have the ability. We have moved undetected among all manner of people for centuries. Any of us has the potential, but those most versed are those that have lived and trained among us the longest. Petra, Meera, Vincent, Aloysius. There are others.’
Isiah looked at Cai Wu, awaiting something from the old man he knew would not come without prompting. ‘You?’ he suggested.
‘I am an old man, Isiah...’
Isiah laughed. ‘So am I, by mortal standards.’
Cai Wu made a rueful face. ‘I am old by your standards.’
‘But you have abilities unrivalled still. You could organise your people. You could lead them ever closer to this group and perhaps discover where they are planning to have this event of theirs.’
‘As could you, I venture.’
Isiah paused. ‘Perhaps. But I intend to watch the house where Faith is and stick close to her. That is perhaps the most dangerous place to be and the most dangerous place to be found. Those among the ONC that are less talented are leading these groups around Australia. Find one that has the least talent and follow him. Leave other Magi to watch other groups from a distance. If you get found out, escape at high speed and start on with another group. They have to keep moving towards their goal. Can you take a group of your stealthiest Magi and keep tracking, one group to the next?’
Cai Wu nodded almost imperceptibly. ‘I could. It has been a long time since I was in the field.’
Isiah smiled. ‘I bet it’ll do you good. Meanwhile, I’ll watch the group in Sydney and try to determine more of their intentions. We can stay in contact.’
One of the Magi at the table sat forward. He was muscular and hard looking, as if carved rather than born. ‘This may sound like a dumb suggestion,’ he said, his voice deep. ‘Why don’t we just start to get a bit more brutal?’
Cai Wu shook his head. ‘Violence is sometimes the answer, Arthur, but very rarely in the first instance.’
‘We could simply start reducing their numbers by intercepting these groups along the way. And a little painful coercion could reveal the location of the final destination in no time.’ Arthur’s face was defiant as he spoke.
Isiah smiled. He had to admit that there was a certain sense of rightness about Arthur’s suggestion. Then again, Isiah himself was a warrior at heart and the method appealed to him. He understood very well the path of peaceful resistance and the path of observation, but sometimes the only thing that would do was a good, solid thrashing. ‘Arthur, I wish we could do as you suggest,’ he said, still smiling. ‘But it’s not the starting point. Don’t worry. I think that before this is over, there will be violence. From what little I know of the methodology of this group, bloodshed is usually quite high on their agenda. For now we have to play it as softly as possible.’
Arthur sat back with a grunt. He was displeased but would submit to Isiah. For now, at least. Isiah was quite convinced that, at the earliest opportunity, Arthur would be running to the front of the line, a can of whoopass held high before him.
‘I’ll go with you.’ Petra put a hand on Isiah’s arm as she spoke. Her eyes were hard, defying him to deny her.
But deny her he had to. ‘You need to stay close to your Master. When I asked him who was capable of staying close to the ONC, it was not without reason that your name was mentioned first.’
‘Don’t flatter me. I want to be with you. You might need my help.’
‘Not as much as Master Cai. Your first priority is to your own people.’
Petra stared hard at him. ‘You don’t consider us all as one people yet?’
The question ran deeper than alliance or allegiance. Isiah took an easy route out. ‘I have worked alone for centuries. I’ve never had a family like you have here. For now you must stay with your family and I must work alone. Believe me, I would have you at my side if it were possible.’
Petra shook her head. ‘Your reasoning is flawed and your suggestions unsatisfactory.’
Isiah smiled. ‘And your tone is very formal. I’m sorry, but you must stay with your people. Watching Faith might lead us to information and that is something that I can do best alone. Watching the rest of the ONC is something that absolutely will lead to more information and that is something that you can do better than others. We will join up again with the ONC before us.’
Petra’s eyes softened. She was not happy, but she could see Isiah’s reasoning. ‘You and I will stay in contact. Consistent contact.’
‘Of course.’
Cai Wu stood. Another full stop had been placed in the proceedings. ‘Let’s go,’ he said, authority evident in his voice. ‘Isiah, talk to anyone you can for guidance, and fates protect you.’
Isiah nodded. ‘And you.’ He looked at Petra. ‘Listen for me. Where I’m going you cannot stay in touch, but I’ll call to you on my return.’ Without waiting for an answer he Travelled.
He stood surrounded by nothing, refusing to feel the usual sense of peace he got here. ‘Talk to me. Now.’
Silence. He had had enough of this. For hundreds of years he had followed the orders of the Balance. He had worked in so many ways, some of which he strongly disagreed with, yet did so out of a sense of respect for the greater knowledge held by the Balance. Experience had taught him that, in the long run, there was always good reason for the things he had been asked to do.
Now things were different. Certainly he had gone out on a limb, following his own will on a subject that the Balance had advised against, but he felt strongly about it. He was determined to do something and, in the back of his mind, he had expected the Balance to either begin helping him or hindering him. If what he was doing was not going to cause great upset, then he had expected the Balance to aid him, at least in some small way, out of a sense of debt if nothing else.
On the other hand, if his plans were likely to cause great upset to the Balance, then certainly the powerful entity would step in and shout him down. Isiah had never actually crossed the Balance before, but he was sure that if he did there would be ways that could be employed against him. He had even suggested as much when they had first talked about this. Was it possible that the Balance had no sway against him? He held no gods or beliefs personal as his own, knowing full well that they all existed on behalf of all their followers and they were, to a man, woman, creature or ball of light, a royal pain in the arse. Was it possible that Isiah was in such a position that nothing could touch him directly? The Balance could direct him, but it certainly couldn’t direct gods. That’s what he was for. Did the Balance have no one else to stand against him? He often wondered if there were any others like him in the world, other agents of Balance.
But all this was academic. Even if the Balance had no agent to challenge him, the Balance itself would surely be shouting its opposition to him, or worse. The thing that really bugged him was the complete lack of contact, any help or hindrance. He was alone in this in every way and that was a new experience for him.
AND THEREIN YOU REACH THE CRUX OF THE MATTER.
‘So, you’re listening in then.’ Isiah always chose to converse aloud, the human way. The Balance usually did the same even if it listened to his thoughts as well. To keep the conversation a linear thing was important. Too often his mind and the Balance would have a conversation without him realising it and knowledge would simply blossom in his brain. That always left him feeling like an outsider to his own life. ‘The crux of the matter, eh?’
He waited for more explanation, nothing was forthcoming. ‘What exactly is the crux of the matter, you giant pain in my rectum? Why are you being so conspicuous by your absence?’
THINGS ARE CLOUDED AND UNCERTAIN. WHEN NO SPECIFIC COURSE OF ACTION PRESENTS ITSELF, ACTION IS UNWISE.
Isiah couldn’t help but take that as a mild rebuke. ‘I have to do something. I’ve told you before, these people are evil bastards. And now they’re trying to raise a god. How can this be a good thing?’
GOOD OR BAD IS IRRELEVANT. ALL THAT MATTERS IS BALANCE.
This was old ground and Isiah knew he would get nowhere challenging the basic principles. He tried a new angle. ‘What do you mean things are clouded and uncertain?’
GREAT MAGICS ARE AT WORK, GREAT MOVEMENTS OF PEOPLE ARE OCCURRING, FATES INTERTWINE. BUT NOTHING IS CLEAR.
‘So?’
SO ANY ACTION IS UNWISE.
Isiah had a sudden and enlightening thought. It was more than a little frightening to consider, given his previous experience of the Balance’s knowledge. ‘Are you suggesting that you can’t tell what’s happening? Is this potentially something bad that you can’t read?’
NOTHING IS EVER CERTAIN. NOTHING IS EVER REVEALED IN ITS ENTIRETY UNTIL IT HAS COME TO PASS.
‘Bullshit! You always know where you’re pushing me, where you’re making me push others. You twist and manipulate. But here it sounds like you don’t know what’s happening.’
Silence.
‘You’re not going to try to stop me from continuing? Or help me?’
YOU HAVE SET YOURSELF ON A COURSE OF ACTION THAT YOU MUST SEE THROUGH, REGARDLESS OF THE OUTCOME. YOU ARE A PART OF THIS NOW, WHETHER YOU CHOOSE TO BE OR NOT.
‘And you’re not going to help me? After all I’ve done for you?’
THE THINGS YOU HAVE DONE ARE IRRELEVANT. ALL THAT MATTERS IS WHAT YOU DO OR WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO DO.
‘Very philosophical. Can you tell me anything? Can you at least tell me where this big meeting of the ONC is going to take place?’
ACTION AT THIS POINT IS UNWISE.
Isiah shook his head. This was bloody frustrating. ‘Is a new god going to rise?’
THE ONC INTENDS IT TO BE SO.
‘This new god is going to slot in without any great upset to the Balance then, is it?’
THE FUTURE IS UNCERTAIN.
‘What if it turns out that this event really is as world-changing as the ONC suggest it is? You’ll have egg on your face then, won’t you?’
NOTHING IS CERTAIN. SOME THINGS WILL ONLY BE REVEALED IN THEIR OWN TIME.
‘And you’re okay with that?’
THE WORLD WILL PROCEED AS IT WILL PROCEED. BALANCE MUST BE MAINTAINED, BUT ONLY WHEN BALANCE IS EVIDENT.
Isiah shook his head. ‘You know, I don’t like this tone of yours. I don’t like to hear the suggestion that you don’t know what’s going on.’
WHAT YOU LIKE OR DISLIKE HAS LITTLE BEARING ON MUCH AT ALL.
‘Yeah, I love it when you get all sentimental on me. You know what I think? I think that you know far more than you’re letting on, but I’m too close to be told. You know why I think that? Because any alternatives are too distasteful or frightening to consider. I think that there’s great risk here and perhaps I’m right at the centre of it and you’re playing me. But whatever. Fuck you. I’m planning to carry on. I plan to bring this ONC down and finish up every last bloodletting bastard I can.
‘I realise what a big task that is and I realise that it might not be doable. But I have some friends on side and we’re going to give it a go. If you decide that you might like to offer any assistance or suggestions along the way, please feel free to invade my fucking brain.’
Without waiting for a response that probably would not have been forthcoming anyway, Isiah Travelled again. Leaving the serene whiteness behind, he slipped back into the mortal Realm in Herb’s living room.
Herb coughed, wide-eyed, into a bong, water and tiny glowing coals making a sudden fountain over his hand, dowsing the lighter he held. Swirls of thick smoke swam around his head, spinning away with his coughs. ‘Fucking hell!’
Isiah smiled. He did enjoy messing with Herb’s head. He had often wondered what the guy would have amounted to if it wasn’t for the pot. Then again, there were a lot of people out there that were destroyed by the world, broken by its injustices and impartiality. Those people were often the most intelligent. Herb was one that dampened the horror with weed. ‘How are you, mate?’
Herb’s eyes watered as he patted out the coals on his legs and brushed them to the floor. He suppressed a few more insistent coughs. ‘You could have fucking killed me!’ He laughed. ‘Still, what a way to go, eh?’
Isiah nodded, smiling. ‘I suppose so.’
Herb cleared his throat, gathering himself. ‘What can I do for you? Haven’t seen you for years, then you pop up three times in quick succession. Why are you impersonating a bus?’
‘I’ve been a bit busy around your neck of the woods lately, that’s all. I just needed somewhere quiet to arrive. I’m off to Paddington.’
Herb nodded. ‘No worries. You wanna borrow my car?’
‘Yeah, thanks. I’ll get it back to you later. When do you need it?’
Herb shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter. Keep it as long as you like. People can come to me if it’s important.’ His eyes narrowed slightly. ‘When I say as long as you like, I don’t mean years. I’ll need it at some point in the next few days.’
Isiah smiled. ‘No problem. Thanks.’
‘Cone?’ Herb held up the dripping bong with a broad smile and a twinkle in his eye.
‘No thanks. See you later.’
Isiah got up and headed out, leaving Herb studiously repacking the cone that had been so rudely disrupted. As he walked out the front door he sang out across the ether for Petra.
There you are! Everything ok?
Yep, but we’re still on our own I’m afraid. No matter, we’ll stick with the plan. You?
We’re about to move on. We’ve picked a cell of the ONC that is being led by an Optimates that’s a little bit green. Hopefully Master Cai and I can evade his wards. The others are off to watch various cells around the country.
Cool. Stay in touch. I’m heading back to the Paddington house.
Be careful.
You too.
Isiah unlocked and started Herb’s car, hopping into the driver’s seat as he did so. He drove the few kilometres to Paddington and parked the car a couple of streets away from the house. Locking down his presence he strolled along the pavement in front of the large house owned by Lars. He glanced into the front garden as he passed. No one was there. The place looked locked up tight. A sudden sense of unease gripped him. He let his guard down slightly and felt out with his mind. There were no wards in place. He released his own guard a bit more, feeling out further and deeper. Nothing. Nothing at all.
‘Oh, fuck it!’ He jogged up the pathway to the front of the house. The door was locked tight. He ran around, checking in all the windows that he could see through. The house stood still and empty. Some windows were blacked out entirely. He let his mind seek out further, risking his detection by letting his senses roam right through the house. Nothing.
He ran to the back and looked left and right. Nobody in any neighbouring houses seemed to have any view of him. With one powerful front kick the back door sprang out of its frame, across the kitchen. He walked in, angry. His presence was altogether different now. He had wards and protections of his own buzzing around himself. Like a cat with its back arched and its tail puffed up in readiness, tense as a piano wire, he stalked through the house, feeling out every corner. They couldn’t be gone, surely. All at once like this? Foolish! Why hadn’t he put a Magus on watch while he was away. To lose them now after all this was ridiculous. To lose Faith was unforgivable. For all his talk of letting her walk the path she had chosen, he was still hoping to be able to protect her.
He went upstairs and searched. There was nothing, no one. He headed back downstairs and searched the rooms again. Still nothing.
What’s wrong? You seem agitated.
Petra was keeping in close contact, just as she had said she would.
I’ve fucked up. I didn’t leave someone to watch the house and they’ve all gone.
What are you going to do?
I’m going to search this place from top to bottom. I’ll contact you shortly.
Take care.
I will.
He had reached the last of the downstairs rooms. Something was there. It felt like the remnants of previous magic and a large part of it probably was. But that made it the perfect place to hide. If a mage was going to conceal himself, best to do it where MageSign was thick and fresh.
He opened the door and a dark, black room yawned before him. Of course, the Gather. He had wondered where the Sanctum was in this house. Maybe a part of this room. As he stepped in, all thought left his mind and he switched to instinct.
As a fist flew out of the darkness he turned, his hand coming up beside his face. The fist grazed along it and he grabbed and twisted. He pulled the owner of the fist heavily on his other elbow, a satisfying grunt and expulsion of breath bursting from the darkness. As he pushed the winded assailant aside, his right foot shot out in a side kick and cracked against the skull of another man, coming at him from the opposite side. The man dropped like a rock and Isiah tucked and rolled into the centre of the room, gaining space and adjusting his eyes to the dark. MageSign built around him and he shot up a barrier of crackling energy as bolts of similar energy flew at him from several directions at once. The man he had winded was clambering to his feet again, the one he had kicked was out cold. Another two approached purposefully from either side. Another moving in from behind. Isiah felt them all.
He took the offensive to them. Gathering his own energy, he let a wall of pressure fly out. They were good, all maintaining their feet, but they staggered. He chose one side and leapt across the room. He kept the presence of every man logged in his mind, feeling their energy and their rage, using it to keep them alight like beacons in his brain. He hammered a shower of blows at superhuman speed into the head and chest of the tall, dark haired one before him and simultaneously drove a kick back into the stockier man approaching his blind side. They were good and determined, they certainly had power. Isiah could sense the blood in the air as their knives flashed, cutting themselves for power then trying to cut him. They were good, but not good enough. He began to drop each of them with ruthless efficiency, his blows firing out in every direction, the slap and crunch of flesh and bone punctuating almost every strike. Then he felt three heavy punches thunder into his chest.
A fraction of a second later the sound of the thunder made his ears sing. Stunned into a moment of inaction, he looked down and saw three wide, dark flowers blooming across his shirt. His eyes travelled up and he saw Filthy Frank, there right in front of him, grinning, a smoking barrel raised triumphantly in his hand.
Isiah gathered his will, directing his attention internally, considering nothing else but closing these gaping wounds that had torn through his flesh and organs, blowing them out through his back. Frank stood there, staring and grinning. Isiah stared back, his mind wandering, his will weak. He had no strength to repair himself, the damage was too great. Where had he come from? Frank and his gun. Isiah had not felt him at all, anywhere in the room. He had been a ghost. Isiah felt his face get very cold, his limbs become lead. His vision swam. He was shot. He was dead. Darkness flooded his mind.
In the cover of darkness and large plastic industrial waste bins outside a cheap hotel in suburban Sydney Petra screamed a piercing, soul-tearing wail. Collapsing into the arms of her Master she began to pant and rambled incoherent words. Cai Wu, at a loss to what had caused such sudden distress, but aware that something serious was happening, dragged her away from the building. They must not alert the group inside, or anyone else for that matter.
‘He’s gone! He’s gone!’ Petra’s voice cracked, tears choking her.
Cai Wu supported her, almost carrying her whole weight as he dragged her down streets, through shadows. ‘What do you mean, child? Who’s gone?’ He turned them into a small park and dropped into the shadows beneath a low, wide tree. He gathered his energy and pulled a tight cloak down over them both.
Petra fell into his lap, sobbing. ‘Isiah, Master. He’s gone. I just felt him torn away.’
Cai Wu knew what she meant but was loathe to admit it to himself. ‘Gone?’
Petra looked up into his eyes, her own eyes pits of despair. ‘I felt him die, Master! I felt him go. He was ambushed.’
Cai Wu stroked her hair, comforting her, using his mind as much as his hand to calm her. She let him, taking solace in his concern, his love. ‘My dear child, I’m so sorry. This is not what we expected at all.’ He knew Petra well enough not to question her certainty.
‘Have we lost? Losing him, have we lost everything?’
‘No, that is not the case, nor is it what he would have wanted. What choice do we have? We must carry on.’
Petra looked up into her Master’s eyes again. Her pain was naked. ‘A dark god will gain enormous power,’ she whispered. ‘Innocent blood will soak the earth and an immortal human will be the only hope of salvation.’
‘I know.’
‘Is our only hope of salvation gone?’
Cai Wu stroked Petra’s face and smiled. ‘We must assume not. We have to assume we were wrong about him being the only salvation.’
‘But we weren’t wrong.’
Cai Wu’s expression was hard. ‘We have to assume we were.’
‘Mission accomplished, Dominus.’ Lars’s face was exultant, even through the swellings and bruises.
In the baking heat of the outback valley, the Sorcerer looked carefully at his disciple. ‘You’re sure?’
Lars could feel the pressure of his Master’s scrutiny, visual and mental. ‘Yes, Dominus. It was hard, that man, whatever he was, he was powerful. Immensely powerful, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.’ Lars’s eyes were lost, looking back in time, reliving the fight. ‘He was fast, strong, like a machine. Truly impressive.’ His eyes snapped back to the present. ‘But we six together are stronger than anything, Dominus. We took a beating, but we were able to keep him occupied and Frank crept right up into his face and bang! Point blank range.’
‘You’re sure he died?’
Lars shrugged. ‘Well, I was right behind him when Frank shot. Most of his back blew out with the exit wounds, dragging bones and guts with it. I thought for a second I was gonna get shot too, but the bullets missed me. By luck more than judgment, I might add. Fucking Frank is a liability sometimes.’
‘He was focussed on the most important part of the job. He does have focus, brother Frank. And when this bastard was shot, you watched him drop dead?’
‘Yep. He stood for a moment, incredible strength, then he blanked out and dropped like a sack of shit.’
The Sorcerer nodded. ‘And his body?’
‘Vanished.’
‘What?’
‘He dropped to the ground and lay there. He was gone, just a corpse. Then as Frank leaned over him, I think he was going to pop a couple more rounds through the bastard’s head to be sure, there was this rushing sound. Energy like a static storm in the room and everything seemed to twist and flash for a second, then he was gone.’
‘Gone?’ The Sorcerer sounded suspicious and intrigued at the same time.
Lars nodded. ‘Yeah. You know in those old movies when someone stakes a vampire and the thing collapses then turns to ash and blows away? It was a bit like that. Only it was more like a dusty residue that was left behind. And it didn’t blow away.’
‘Dust?’
‘Yeah. Kinda glittery, sandy dust, like a drawing of his body on the floor.’
The Sorcerer stood thoughtful for a few moments. Who, or what, was this person anyway? For now, at the very least, the threat was removed and they had to assume it was finished. As Lars had said, mission accomplished. He nodded once, decisively. ‘Good lad. All of you, well done. Where are the others.’
Lars smiled. ‘They are not as gifted as I am at travelling long distances, as you know. They’re on their way out here now.’
‘And the Channel?’
‘On the way too. The lads will catch up with the Channel and my other close members and all come in together. They’ll be here sometime before dawn with any luck.’
‘Good. We need to keep moving on this now. Time is building up behind us and our Lord grows impatient.’
Lars nodded. ‘I have to admit, I am getting nervous. My excitement is tempered only by my concern that I have done all that you have asked of me.’
The Sorcerer put one hand on Lars’s shoulder, walking him through the camp. Members of all ranks, all ages, all walks of life and nationalities, paused to watch them pass. For many it was the first time they had ever seen the man that was at the heart of it all. The Sorcerer was aware of their scrutiny, could feel their adoration and awe. He enjoyed it, soaked it up. But he was also perturbed by it. It reminded him that, if everything went to plan, this would not be his thing any more. Instead of being the supreme ruler of a global society of anarchy, chaos and blood magic, he would be more like the High Priest of a new order. Certainly he would be the highest serving human, he would still command the respect of everyone here. He would command the respect of many more as their Society grew and took hold of the world. But he could not help feeling like he was giving something away. Letting something slip through his fingers.
He reminded himself of the truth of that situation. It was not as if he really had a choice. He had always worshipped blood. He had used blood as he had been taught to use it for countless years, always devoting himself and his actions to the blood, the gore, to life born of it. To Cruor. He had built around himself a world spanning Order that had developed a momentum of its own, carried along by his vision, barely maintained under his control. And his worship, his ministrations, had culminated in something he could never have imagined. His efforts had awakened an ancient god. The God of Blood itself. The primary divine force of slaughter and birth, older than any of these watered down faiths that permeated the world today and corrupted men. Over countless decades he had proven himself worthy and a god had spoken to him. What was letting his Order slip away in comparison to that? He looked at Lars walking patiently, obediently beside him. ‘You worry that you have not done enough, Optimates?’
Lars grinned ruefully. ‘All my life, Dominus, I have strived to live up to the example you set. I am always concerned that I am not enough.’
The Sorcerer patted his shoulder as they walked. ‘Look around you, son. This is a camp of hundreds, possibly thousands. See there, even now more are arriving. These people are Gathering, as our Order has never Gathered before, for a truly wonderful event. And this is all your doing. You made this possible. You have not let me down.’
‘Thank you, Dominus.’
‘And I asked you to remove a dangerous threat to us, you and your brothers. And you did that too.’
Lars nodded silently.
The Sorcerer smiled. ‘And I asked you to find and prepare the Channel. You have done that. I have asked a lot of you, Lars, and you have risen to the challenges. I have asked a lot of Frank, and of Chris and Jake. All of you have served me without question, served me completely. Raul and Dieter too. To reach the Eighth Degree in our Order is something very few people have ever done. There are six of you now and all six of you deserve that position for one reason alone. Do you know what that is?’
Lars looked at his Dominus, his brow knitted. ‘We have followed the teachings, practised diligently, developed our abilities. We have followed the Order of Degrees as laid down by you.’ His look betrayed that he thought there was more to the Sorcerer’s question than this.
‘There are several members at the Seventh Degree. You know them all well. What’s the difference between you and them. Do you really know that much more than them? Are your talents really that much greater than theirs?’
‘Every one of us has different talents, Dominus. You have said yourself that different people are disposed to different areas of expertise.’
The Sorcerer nodded. ‘Exactly. So what makes you six so special? Special enough that you are granted the Eighth Degree?’
‘I don’t know, Master.’
‘It is simple, really. The only true difference between an Optimates of the Seventh Degree and one of the Eighth Degree is the lack of questions.’
Lars frowned again. ‘Lack of questions?’
‘I’m sure you talk among yourselves. I’m sure you have questioned my motives, my methods, my reasoning, within your own mind as well as with each other. But none of you have ever questioned me directly. What I have asked, you have done. You have enquired when your mind is curious, all of you, but never questioned my orders. Absolute faith, Optimates Lars, is what makes someone capable of reaching the Eighth Degree.’
Lars looked surprised by this revelation. ‘I would never dream of questioning your actions, Dominus. I may not understand, I may talk about it with my brothers, but I would never presume to know better.’
The Sorcerer smiled. It was a predatory smile, but tinged with genuine affection. It was like one Death Adder smiling at another. ‘Precisely.’
Faith sat in a motel room on the outskirts of Sydney, staring at a television set but not really watching. She wanted her mobile phone back. She wanted to talk to her mum. She wanted to walk away. She wanted to see Lars. There were a lot of things she wanted, but most of all she wanted to be less confused. She felt mildly drunk, or doped. Maybe she was sick or something. Those high level brothers of Lars were due any time now and she sat here with four other members from the Sydney Gather. Lars had promised her that he would be waiting for her when she arrived at this camp thing, whatever it was. But she wanted him here now, or she wanted to go home.
In the middle of the night Lars had woken her, packed her off with these four ONC members and told her to trust him. The whole big event was approaching and she felt carried along by it, regardless of her own will. Why the sudden exit? Why the complete lack of warning and hurrying away in the middle of the night? It was getting harder and harder to be excited by all this.
Her loyalty was still there. When she thought about it, her brain refused to think ill of the Order. It was everything it claimed to be and it was headed for greatness. And she was going to be standing there, right alongside one of its highest members when the greatness came. But something... something was nagging at her mind. Something was wrong. Almost as if there was something she was forgetting to do.
It was like when you’ve been walking around with a bag all day. You get used to carrying the bag. You get used to not leaving it behind. Then you do get to leave it somewhere, maybe at home, whatever, you know it’s safe. But no matter how much you know that, no matter how intellectually aware you are of the fact that your bag is perfectly fine, you can’t shake off the feeling for the rest of the day that you should be carrying something. Every few minutes there’s a quick double heartbeat, Where’s my bag? It was irrational, but it was real. She felt like that now, except it wasn’t a bag she’d left behind. That was the irritating thing. She didn’t know what she had left behind, but it certainly felt like there was something she should have. Or something she should do. Or something she should have done.
The motel door opened, without any warning knock. The men around her jumped up, skittish, nervous. Frank, that greasy brother of Lars, strode into the room. ‘You lot, out.’ He gestured with one thumb over his shoulder. ‘There are cars outside. You lot get in the car with Optimates Raul.’ He grinned a feral grin at Faith. ‘You’re with me, sweetie.’
‘Where are we going?’ Faith didn’t want to be anywhere near this guy.
‘To change the world, baby, that’s where we’re going. Don’t worry. Jake, Chris and Dieter will be in our car too.’
Faith stood up, slinging her small backpack over her shoulder. ‘I just wondered,’ she mumbled.
‘Yeah, right. You were terrified that it was going to be just you and me going for a long drive in the night, weren’t you?’
Faith looked up with defiant eyes. ‘Truthfully? I don’t want to go on any kind of drive with any of you. But the choice isn’t mine right now.’
Frank grinned again. ‘Good girl.’
She walked out into the bright, hot day. Two of those big cars that were so popular these days, people carriers, were parked right outside. The four junior members were climbing into one, with Raul sat in the driver’s seat. Faith gasped when she saw him. His face looked like tenderised beef. She looked at the other car and saw Dieter in the passenger seat, equally bashed. Jake and Chris were side by side in the back, but she could not see in the shadows if they looked as bad as the others. Frank headed for the empty driver’s seat of the second car as Raul pulled away and roared off down the road. ‘Get in,’ Frank said roughly.
Faith went to the side door of the car. She looked at Jake and Chris sitting in the back as she took a side seat and slid the door shut. They had bruises too. They certainly didn’t look as bad as the others, but they were bruised and not happy looking. Why was Frank the only one without a scratch? Perhaps any blows had slid off his greasy face. ‘What happened to you lot?’
Jake smiled at her, but there was little humour in it. ‘We had ourselves a little rumble, love. Just a bit of exercise, that’s all.’
Faith laughed. ‘Looks like somebody did some exercise on your head.’
Jake and Chris both growled, sitting forward.
‘Leave it!’ Frank’s voice from the front was powerful as he backed the car out onto the road and pulled away. ‘Don’t let her wind you up. She’s just a smart-mouthed kid.’
Chris leaned forward a bit more. ‘You need to learn to show respect to your superiors, girl,’ he hissed. ‘You don’t know a thing and what you learn will scare you.’
Jake sat back, letting out a heavy breath. ‘Don’t worry about it, Chris. It’s not like it really matters in the long run, eh?’
Chris sat back too, throwing a quick smile at Jake. ‘True enough.’
Faith didn’t like that exchange. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You’ll see, love. You’ll see.’
Faith didn’t like these guys. Lars was special, he really did care about her, but these guys were animals. Then again, she had to remind herself that Lars had made a special case out of her. Most people served their time and worked their way up in the ONC. She had to remember she was skipping stages and that was the sort of thing that could easily make enemies of people who should be your allies. She should calm down a bit and be nice to these wankers, even if she didn’t like the idea. ‘It must have been quite a fight,’ she said. ‘Are you all okay?’
‘We’re fine,’ Jake said sarcastically. ‘Thanks for asking.’ He raised his voice. ‘We’d be a bit better off if Frank didn’t move like an old grandma!’
Frank laughed. ‘Fuck you. You know I couldn’t risk blowing that job. I had to get it right first time or we would have all been fucked. Come on, think about it. He was going through you guys like hot piss through snow.’
‘It’s true,’ Chris said in a low tone. ‘If he’d felt Frank I don’t think one more of us would have mattered to him.’
‘He could have flattened an army.’ It was the first time Dieter had spoken. It sounded like he had a mouth full of marbles. There was a grudging respect in his voice.
Faith looked around the car. ‘One guy did this?’ she asked. ‘To you guys? What kind of man was that?’
Jake shrugged. ‘That’s the million pound question, love. What kind of man indeed. I’ve never seen or felt anything like him before. I hope to fuck I never do again.’
‘He’s dead,’ said Frank without taking his eyes off the road. ‘He had skills, no doubt. He was one powerful son of a bitch. But the Ordo Novus Cruor does not care for powerful sons of bitches. He’s dead. Gone. Fuck him. And forget him.’
Jake slumped down in his chair. ‘I’ll find it easier to forget him when the aches and bruises have gone away.’
Faith turned in her seat, sinking low and staring out the window. The urban landscape began to give way to farmland and bush. She wasn’t exactly sure where they were heading, but it felt like they were going inland. There was little hope that they would cross the Mountains. She couldn’t believe that she was missing the Mountains already. The urge to go home was strong. But they seemed to have left the city heading south. If they were going bush, they would probably turn west at some point, but nowhere near her home town.
Her thoughts turned back to the bruised men around her. She felt disturbed by this story that one man that had done all this damage to these powerful Optimates. He must have been some kind of weapon. The part of her mind that kept thinking she’d left a bag somewhere was bothered by this turn of events too. She could not help thinking that she ought to know who they were talking about. And she had a sense of dread somewhere deep inside that them killing this guy meant something really bad was going to happen. ‘How far are we going?’ she asked, trying to take her mind away from the worries and negative trains of thought.
‘You might as well settle down, sweetheart,’ Frank said over his shoulder. ‘We’ll be driving for quite a few hours yet.’
Faith rolled her eyes and dug around in her bag for her MP3 player. She didn’t like the way her excitement seemed to be giving way to apprehension with each passing mile. Especially if there were still a lot of those miles to go.
In a valley hidden in the vastness of the Australian outback, the camp got busier by the hour. As more people arrived the sense of excitement grew, a buzz hovering all over the site. There were fires dotted throughout the tents, people talking, laughing, some practising their skills. It was like a macabre festival without a stage. Just the brooding presence of the large shed at the head of the valley, standing tall against the low tents and scrub, embraced by high sandstone walls.
As more senior members of the Order arrived, the Sorcerer had more people whose abilities and loyalty he could trust. He sent these members out to hunt in surrounding towns and settlements, even though they were hundreds of kilometres away. They returned sporadically with terrified children and young adults, bound and gagged. Occasional hapless backpackers were dragged in. These people were all delivered to the large shed and not seen again.
In a Realm that grew ever closer to the mundane world, an entity stretched and flexed, pressing at the walls of its pit, aching to be free.