Consensus Breaking (The Auran Chronicles Book 2) (3 page)

‘How did you know?’ Seb repeated.

‘When we detected the disruption caused by Skelwith’s destruction, several of our coteries converged there. We found the mansion in ruins. Many dead. After the news became public in our particular community we happened upon Loremaster Brun. The slimy whelp couldn’t live with the guilt of what he knew and was only too eager to enlighten us on what had transpired.’

‘We were tricked.’ Seb heard himself say, his mind drifting back to those final few hours. Something hot filled his throat and he swallowed it down.

‘Save your explanations. Whatever your motives, the actions that transpired that day have led to severe repercussions throughout the Shard.’

‘What repercussions?’

‘That is not for me to explain. My instructions were to find you; unfortunately, the changes in the Weave have meant it was like finding a needle in a haystack. Luckily for us you decided to come back to one of the few places we had under observation.’

‘Who’s instruction?’

Barach sat back, his eyes wide with disbelief. ‘You really don’t know anything, do you?’

‘Can you cut the smart ass shit, please? Just tell me.’

‘The Archmage, boy.
My
Archmage.’

Seb shrugged. ‘Sorry, I haven’t been told any of this.’

Barach stood. ‘That is very apparent.’ He waved at one of the nearby magi. ‘We’re going,’ he said.

‘Going where?’ Seb said.

‘Out of here. This place makes my skin crawl.’

The mage Barach had spoken to pulled a familiar-looking gem from inside his jacket. He dropped it to the floor. The gem smashed, and in its place a glowing blue portal flared into existence.

‘A home stone,’ Seb said.

‘My, they did teach you something after all,’ Barach said. ‘Come now, we travel.’

Seb paused for a moment. He could’ve said no, of course, but did he really have a choice? Sylph and Cade were still surrounded by the other magi. Without their weapons they were still fearsome warriors but recent experience told him that they were still no match for Barach’s coterie. Wasn’t this what he wanted anyway? To find the Families? He’d been trying for months but with no success. The experience so far didn’t fill him with confidence. In the months since the incident at Skelwith he’d forgotten, or at least tried to forget, the role he’d played when he’d destroyed the Spoke Stone, removing Marek’s spell and freeing the sentinels. The side effects of that were that the Consensus was broken; the Weave had been freed from the constraints layered upon it. Had he honestly expected this to be without ramifications?

Well, time to face up to them.

He stood, exchanging resigned glances with his companions as they made their way to the portal. With a flash of blue light, they left the ruins of Marek’s lair behind.

The swirling torrent of blue lightning faded away. The ground firmed underneath his feet and the rotten smell of Haven gave way to something different, a sweet smell of incense. The coldness that had filled his bones evaporated away in an instant. A warmth enveloped him, comforting and reassuring all at once. He opened his eyes.

‘Wow.’

Their location couldn’t be further away from the ruin they’d left behind. They were stood on a raised platform of polished black stone. Around them a grand hall, much larger and splendid than the Magistry ever was, stretched off into the distance. A wide staircase led up and onto a balcony that surrounded the entire room. The walls were adorned with intricate displays of gold and silver. At regular intervals along the wall stood statues of bronze, similar in appearance to Japanese samurai, but each standing at seven feet tall.

‘Come on, save the gawping for another time,’ Barach said. He trooped off the platform, two of his coterie falling in line behind him.

‘Move.’ A staff jabbed Seb in the back. His Avatari swallowed the pain in a heartbeat and he stepped off the platform.

They arrived at a set of steel doors at the end of the hall a few moments later. Barach stepped forwards and pressed a black glass panel on the wall. A green triangle, point facing downwards, lit up with a “ding”. A moment later the doors slid apart, revealing an elevator lined with leather and a small couch along one side.

‘No expense spared I see,’ Seb said.

‘Not all magekind are as incompetent with their finances as was the Magistry,’ Barach said as he entered the elevator. ‘In fact it should be impossible not to succeed in this realm, with our particular abilities.’

Seb ignored the barb as Cade and Sylph were led in. The doors closed and his stomach fluttered as they began to ascend. They rose quickly, and within a couple of minutes the movement slowed to a halt at the fifty-fifth floor. The door opened and Barach stepped out. He nodded, and the mage that had stuck to Seb like a leech tugged him forwards by the elbow.

‘This is where you get off. Your friends will be taken somewhere more comfortable.’

Seb exchanged a brief look of alarm with his companions before the elevator door slid shut. He resisted sending a pulse towards Sylph, no doubt the First had methods of reading their communications, and it wasn’t like they had anything they could do at this point.

‘See you soon,’ he managed.

‘You’d better.’ Sylph replied.

As the elevator vanished into places unknown, Seb turned and regarded his new location. It was an open plan office of some kind, with large, glass-walled rooms containing varying assortments of tables and chairs. In some he could see business people sat in meetings, sometimes together, sometimes engaging with persons on one of the giant screens on the wall. He cast a casual
sense
out. Many were Aware, but only subtly so. None of them were Latent, or even magi, as far as he could detect. Aside from him, Barach and the mage that accompanied them there were no other magi around.

That thought was shattered a moment later. A wide door opened up ahead. Seb’s
sense
bounced back with such force he nearly stumbled.

A tall man, almost as large as Cian, stepped out of the office. Lightly tanned, with unnaturally white teeth and hair gelled so slick it could’ve been glued on, the man looked like he’d come straight from reading the news. He would’ve been almost comical if it wasn’t for the near tangible Weave-aura he projected. The man stopped in his tracks when he saw Seb and his escort approaching.

‘My lord, I present to you -’

‘Seb, young Seb,’ the man said. His face broke into a smile that was laced with insincerity. ‘Welcome to Domus. We’ve been looking for you for quite a while.’

‘Likewise. I thought I would’ve found you earlier, too.’

A young man, barely Seb’s age, appeared out of a side office. Nervous eyes skittered between the man and Seb.

‘Yes, Christopher?’ the man said, his gaze not shifting. Seb was reminded of a predator eyeing its prey.

‘Apologies, sir,’ Christopher stammered, ‘Your nine o’clock is here.’

‘Send them away. Clear my morning calendar.’

‘But, sir, it’s -’

‘Clear it, Christopher.’

‘Yessir.’

Christopher vanished, the door closing silently in his wake.

‘Now, let us step inside and talk away from prying eyes.’

The man reopened his office door and beckoned them inside. Seb followed, almost tripping up as he saw what was inside.

It was as far removed from an office as could be. With its leather sofas, bar and balcony overlooking the city, it resembled more a playboy bachelor pad than a hive of industry. A fake fire burned in the hearth, in front of which lay a husky dog, dead to the world. The man waved Seb towards the sofas whilst he vanished behind the bar.

‘Drink, Seb?’

‘Coke, please, if you have it.’

‘
Coke
?’ the man said, speaking the word as if Seb had asked for a glass of worms. He shook his head and poured a dark spirit into a tumbler. From somewhere underneath the bar he opened a fridge and poured Seb’s. He didn’t offer Barach anything. Eventually the man came round and sat in the wide recliner nearest the fire. He sat there for a moment, manicured fingers pressed on either side of the glass.

‘Shall I remain, sir?’ Barach said, following a few moments of silence.

‘No, Barach, you may leave. I will catch up with you later.’

Barach half-bowed before abruptly pivoting and marching out of the room.

‘He’s a good man, but stoic, set in his ways.’

‘He didn’t seem best pleased to see me,’ Seb said.

‘Yes, well, hopefully we can change that. Now young Seb, I suppose I’d better start by introducing myself.’

‘Seeing as you already know who I am, it might just help.’

The man smiled, took a sip, and then placed the glass on the fireplace. ‘My name is Sedaris,
Archmage
Sedaris. I lead what is known in our particular circles as the First Family.
This
,’ he waved a casual hand around, ‘is Domus, our headquarters, for lack of a better word.’

Seb took a drink himself, sinking half the glass in one go, not realizing how thirsty he’d become. He settled back into the chair.

‘The First Family?’

‘One of the nine magi families of this realm. Ours is the largest, arguably the most successful of all of them. I, as Archmage, am ultimately responsible for the continuing prosperity of the First.’

‘The First? As in the first magi of this realm?’

Sedaris smiled. ‘My, how much have they been hiding from you back in that Magistry of yours?’

‘Funny, you’re not the first person to say that to me.’

Sedaris drained the rest of his glass. ‘I can imagine. But you are correct, Seb. We, as the First, can trace our ancestry directly back to Woden, he who led the first magi onto this shard. Other Families followed, completing the remaining families from the Second through to the Ninth.’

‘I see. And an Archmage? I’ve not heard that term before.’

‘An Archmage, Seb, is the leader of a given Family. Although the Families differ in their specialism - some do business,’ he waved back towards the offices, ‘some do
other
things. But ultimately the Archmage is their leader, their CEO, their commander-in-chief. Whatever the Family does, all ultimately answer to that individual. Understood?

‘So far.’

Sedaris rose and went to the bar. He poured himself another drink. He waved the Coke bottle but Seb declined. By the time Sedaris had returned his glass was half-empty again.

‘Anyway, let us forget about Families and Archmages for now. That story is not going to change and can wait.’ Sedaris lowered his glass and leant over. An intensity filled his eyes. ‘Now, tell me about
you
, Seb. Tell me about everything that’s happened to you in recent months.’

‘How much do you know already?’

Sedaris waved a hand. ‘Pretend I know nothing. Start at the beginning.’

Seb shuffled into a more comfortable position. This was going to be a long one.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

Sedaris dipped his head. ‘The floor is yours.’

Where should he begin? His arrival at the Magistry? The battle in the Nexus? There was no real clean point to start at besides right at the very beginning, right at the moment he’d heard Sarah running up that hill, Clementine in pursuit.

And so he began his tale. He told Sedaris of his random wanderings that drew him from place to place. The reasons then were unknown, but he later learned that it was because he was a fledgling mage known as a Latent. He told of the initial encounter with Sarah and her death at the hands of Clementine, and of the message she passed on to him, the message that turned out to be a trap all along, a master plan concocted by the renegade mage, Marek. He glossed over his training at the Magistry; no doubt this was nothing new to Sedaris. When he came to the point of his astral journey and his encounter with the mysterious tower he again faltered like he had with Caleb, as if he was betraying some inner secret in relaying this information. He skipped over it, moving straight on to the mission in the Nexus and their attempts to speak to Woden, the First mage. He finished with Silas’ betrayal and the assault on Skelwith. Cumulating with Cian’s sacrifice that allowed them to destroy the Spoke Stone and release the sentinels, destroying Marek and his forces.

When it was all over, Seb sat back, exhausted from retelling the story. He’d gone over it many times in his head, but had never spoken it out in full since, well, ever. As he reflected upon it, a cloud formed in his mind. The whole thing, the whole damned thing had been orchestrated by Marek from the beginning. He had known the magi too well, knew the Magister too well. He acted upon her pride and her need to prove herself to the Families. Their elitism had cost them. Now she lay dead, as did so many others.

And what was it all worth?

‘So it was
you
who destroyed the Spoke Stone?’ Sedaris said.

‘It was the only option. Destroy it, release the sentinels, or allow Marek to take over the Magistry with his sheol army.’

Sedaris rose and rested an arm on the mantelpiece. His eyes stared into the flame.

‘Was it?’

‘What?’ Seb replied.

Sedaris turned, the veneer of friendliness dropping slightly. His jaw was set, his eyes slightly narrowed.

‘The only option. Why not allow Marek to take over?’

Was he hearing this correctly? Seb was aware he had suddenly sat forwards, a tenseness having crept into his arms. ‘Sorry? How was
that
an option?’

‘Let me put it this way, Seb. You let Marek win his battle. The Brotherhood is wiped out. The useless fraternity of magi that formed the Magistry are destroyed. Would that be such a great loss? Removing those remnants of an archaic age that have no relevance in today’s world?’

He was standing without even realizing it. His clenched fists dug into his sides. King mage or whatever he was, no one would dismiss the sacrifice of Cian, Caleb and company in that way.

‘Loss? People died. Good people. All in the name of protecting this realm from the sheol. How can you dismiss it so easily?’

Sedaris held up his hands, the serious look vanishing in an instant. ‘You misunderstand me, Seb. I do not relish the death of any mage. However, in order to go forwards our organization must adapt to the new world. The old ideals and oaths do not work in this era. Marek’s deception and the Magistry’s destruction are symptoms of these changes. And besides,’ Sedaris continued, stopping Seb before he could speak, ‘the world has changed significantly for our kind, even in the last few months.’

‘What do you mean?’

Sedaris sat back down.

‘There has been a variety of what’s best described as -
occurrences
- that have taken place.’

‘Occurrences?’

‘Random corruptions in the Weave. Glitches in reality. It started small at first. One man at a bar in Manchester swore blind that the bottle he was holding simply vanished out of his hands. He found it several feet away down the bar.’

‘Sounds like typical drunk behaviour to me.’

‘Then there was the occasion when an articulated lorry vanished in full view of several witnesses. It reappeared a few hundred yards down the road. But only the back end. It looked like something had sliced it in half. The front end, including the driver, was never found.’

‘What? That’s just crazy!’

‘These are but examples of the many strange things that have happened to reality in recent months. The Families have been working overtime to find the causes, eliminating those they can.’

‘But how? What can be causing all this?’

Then it hit him.

‘The Spoke Stone. The Consensus.’ He slumped back into the chair. ‘I did this, didn’t I?’