dank and stale. I descended the creaking wooden steps cautiously, the beams of my flashlight cutting through the gloom. Shadows danced across the walls as I swept the basement, taking in the towers of mildewed cardboard boxes and abandoned furniture shrouded beneath yellowing sheets.
Many of the properties we secured in North St. Louis were left in disrepair. The condition of the houses didn’t matter. What people might have left behind was of no consequence. These properties were strategically selected. Each at an axis of a dodecahedron, forming a net of power we could use to contain the dark ether.
So long as we worked within the matrix, within the net maintained by these axis points, we could keep a semblance of control over the ether and the creatures we fed and trained.
Only one property was outside of our reach—and the Wadsworths wouldn’t relinquish it. That didn’t matter. We didn’t need a legal right to the property in order to use it.
I reached into my suit pocket and retrieved the crystal, its jagged facets pulsing with vile violet light. The captured dark ether—distilled and purified. This was the key to unlocking the true potential of what lay chained in the back corner of the basement.
One of our acolytes emerged from the shadows, his phone-light shining on the ground, betraying the otherwise ancient black-robed appearance.
“Cory, isn’t it?” I asked.
Cory nodded, took the crystal, and reverently placed it on the pedestal next to the creature. The acolyte adjusted the crystal, aligning it precisely with the creature’s own pulsations of energy. As they synchronized, the room filled with a low, ominous hum. Wisps of inky black ether flowed from the crystal into the emaciated body of the creature.
It visibly stirred, rattling the heavy chains that bound it. The creature’s sunken eyes glowed brighter, flickering with unnatural light.
I turned to the acolyte. “Is it ready?”
Cory cleared his throat. “Yes, lord. He’s well-trained. He craves ether now, knowing that when he uses it, he can truly feast on genuine fear. Not just the terror of its inspired nightmares.”
I smiled coldly. “Good. Some of these creatures are proving more difficult than others to train accordingly.”
“Not this one,” the acolyte replied. “I’ve worked with all of them, and this is by far the most compliant. I believe that whole sasquatch situation and the terror it elicited fed it well enough that now all this thing craves is more.”
My smile widened, though inside I harbored a few worries. The druid was onto us. That damned detective knew about all our recent acquisitions. The proximity to their mansion—a property we’d hoped to acquire ourselves—roused their suspicions. But they didn’t know what we were doing. Not really. And we had many of these monsters bound within our matrix of properties. In the end, we only needed one. One that could extract the terror we required from our enemy.
“Keep it fed,” I ordered. “We cannot risk failure. We need to test the creature’s compliance. It craves the ether. That’s good. But will it follow our orders once it engages a host’s mind?”
“Our Lord, Mordred, believed it was possible.” Cory bowed his head slightly. “It’s why he’d prepared for this possibility in the eventuality of his demise. We will not fail our Lord a second time.”
I hoped Cory was right. These acolytes were more idealistic than the older members of our order. The Mordredan Order grew significantly under Mordred’s leadership. He was with us for ten years. He recruited dozens of acolytes—rabidly loyal to his cause.
For weeks now, though, I was back in control. I’d led the order for years before Mordred’s return.
As faithful as the acolytes were, they didn’t remember the days before Mordred’s resurrection, when all we’d had was hope of his eventual return. Now that Mordred was gone—years of plans dashed in a matter of days—we had no choice but to follow one of our lord’s many contingency plans.
But the acolytes didn’t know Mordred the way I did. I honored my lord, don’t get me wrong, but they didn’t know him like I did. Mordred was compulsive and paranoid. Under his guidance, we’d set into motion a dozen plans, all meant to ensure the success of his plan if one or another of his schemes failed.
But he’d gleaned these plans from his tutelage under the ancient witch, Morgana, and the complexities of the modern world were often overlooked in implementing said plans.
That’s what I was there for. I was supposed to deal with the modern world—to give our order cover under the guise of Royal Son Financial, yes, but also to adapt his plans to the complexities of the modern world.
Setting up a grid, along the pattern of a dodecahedron, over a uniquely charged patch of earth in a world that hadn’t even been discovered yet in Mordred’s day, required creative implementation. It took years of research and preparation.
It just so happened that the sites we had to use to complete this plan were already occupied, paved over by concrete or built over by red brick homes. If it wasn’t for my work, we’d never have gotten this close to completing the plan.
As I turned back to the creature, I noticed its movements becoming more frenzied, the chains straining against its sudden surge of strength. The dark ether infused within it was awakening something primal and malevolent, something that hungered for fear and chaos.
A sudden commotion from above caught my attention, the sound of heavy footsteps descending the stairs. I tensed, recognizing the authoritative gait of Clayton “Brick” Stone, the Chief of Police himself.
“Here for my shift,” the chief announced as he unfolded his acolyte’s robe and pulled it overhead.
“The creature is ready for another feed,” Cory said. “I trust you have it handled?”
“Absolutely,” Stone nodded resolutely.
I grinned widely. “Very well. I should let you know, Clay. We might have a problem. That detective of yours, the one you let go at my behest a couple months back…”
Stone sighed. “Sloane Harding.”
I nodded. “That’s the one. She’s working with the druid. They came to visit me in my office earlier this afternoon. You know her better than I do. Think you can throw something out there, some kind of false clue, maybe get her off our scent?”
“I’m sure I can think of something,” Stone nodded. “I know her habits. She’s an idealist, but she’s a damn good detective. Fooling her won’t be easy.”
“We only need a little time. If our little friend here is as close to being ready as he seems, we need to move on to the next phase of our plan.”
“Understood,” Stone said, then he turned and bowed toward Cory as he assumed his place in watch over the creature. “Hail King Mordred.”
“Praise be his name,” Cory answered, then turned to me. “Are you sure you don’t want my assistance? I know this thing’s proclivities.”
I nodded. “Your help may be requested soon. I must first identify a proper host for the next phase of our test. Get a bite to eat, take a nap, and meet us back here at midnight.”