Gloom Rising (The Book Wielder Saga 1) (23 page)

"Damn right it is, we're going to kick some Inquisition butt!" Lewis said fiercely with his fist clenched.

Veronica nodded and looked out the window. She was silent for the whole journey back to Exhaustown.

They arrived back without incident. TL was waiting for them and he was most pleased that the deal would be underway soon. He told Lynette to keep Merv as a thanks for bringing sweet delicacies to Exhaustown, and she was so giddy that she kissed TL on his gasmask. Kaine lugged it back upstairs to the Gloom version of Connor's Canning Corporation and Winston reopened the portal back to the real.

"What a trip!" Kaine said, sitting back at his desk and taking the bottle cap off a bottle of beer with his teeth. "You know what this calls for?"

"A celebration?" Winston guessed.

"Fuck yeah, a celebration!" Kaine cheered. "Everyone grab a bottle of something drink and lets toast our new alliance!"

The Dogs of War, Shadow Circle, Anarchy's Ascendants, and Concealed Council partied loud and hard all the way into the early morning, celebrating their new alliance and the good times yet to come.

Chapter 8:

The Attack on Orphan Isle

Winston and his companions in the Shadow Circle only stayed on Industria for a few days. After the long and tiring celebration party he set to work opening portals for the Dogs of War, Concealed Council, and rambunctious Anarchy's Ascendants, and returned to Beachhead One to get the ferry back to Imperia. Lewis, Winston, Lynette, and Kavarne had raced up Highway One, with Lynette and Merv emerging victorious. The bike from the Gloom attracted some funny looks but people shrugged it off or commented on the cool custom metalwork, thinking that Lynette had designed and built it herself.

Now Winston was back in Gloom City, and having hardly unpacked he had set about arranging the attack that would preserve the Supernatural way of life, and his own. He had crossed over by himself because he no longer worried about being in the Gloom version of the Capital as the Mayor always made sure he was looked after.

He gave Lanky a bar of caramel chocolate (Winston always brought at least one bag of treats to the Gloom to fortify his good relations with the Alts) and asked him for the Mayor. The tall receptionist Alt directed him to the Mayor's manor and made sure that Olex was on his way to take him there.

Winston wasn't waiting outside for long before his trusty Spidercar came charging and clattering down the road, chirping and whistling with his steam. Winston greeted him heartily and jumped on board. Together they made their way to the edge of Gloom city, to where its towering black steel walls almost loomed, and to an area sparsely populated by big mansions and other decrepit yet fancy housing.

The Mayor's manor was the biggest of them all. Winston had been there before when invited by his Alternative friend, and he was sure that if ghosts were real that would be where they'd haunt. The manor was surrounded by huge blackish grey hedges that wriggled with life and were thick with webs. The big wrought iron bar gates slithered like snakes as the elegant patterns changed, the pathway leading to the front entrance was laden with broken statues (most of which were headless), and the gardens either side were dead and desolate with foul black Gloom water features at their centres. Cracked glass witchfire lamps hung at random, painting the area with their trademark sickly green glow and attracting swarms of Blightmoths who danced and spiralled around them. The manor itself was big, dark, and foreboding. The windows were cracked, shattered, and dirty, and would sometimes show reflections of people who weren't there. The wood and brickwork was worn, black and green with mould, and the tiles on the roof were dark grey with more than a few missing completely. Rusty metal gargoyles sat on the guttering, and they would walk about when no one was looking. A big iron knocker was on the metal reinforced wooden front door and it boomed when Winston used it.

There was the sound of many rusty jammed locks being forcefully undone, and then the big door creaked open. The Mayor's well-dressed butler was standing there as it opened. "Ah yes, Mr Winston... his lordship the Mayor has been expecting you." The butler beckoned him inside.

"Thank you my good man," Winston said, slipping a bar of white chocolate into the butler’s top pocket.

"Sir is too kind!" the butler said, leading him inside the gloomy Gloom manor.

Inside the building was just as dreary as the outside, but the Alternative activity from the cleaners and house staff made it seem less daunting, and they waved and smiled as he walked past. Cracked vases holding bunches of dead flowers, broken ornaments, and gruesome landscapes and threatening portraits decorated the interior.

The butler led him up the manor's groaning central staircase and under an enormous dust and web encrusted crystal chandelier, along its filthy red carpet to the second floor.

The Mayor was relaxing in his study in a split leather armchair, eating a packet of chewy sweets one at a time. Around him were his six brutally converted Freak troopers armed with crossbows and swords. They stood rigid and unflinching, watching everything with their cold lifeless black puppet eyes.

"Mr Mayor," Winston said.

The Mayor jumped up out of his chair with excitement and gave him a body crushing hug. "Ah, Winston my boy! Good to see you, good to see you indeed! Would you like something to eat? We're well stocked with all sorts, thanks to you my boy!"

"I'm good thanks," Winston said politely. "I came here to talk business."

"Good, good! Your business deals usually end up with me getting more food and power! That they do!" The Mayor rubbed his hands together greedily.

"I'm glad you’re eager, but I won't lie to you; this one's a bit riskier than the last," Winston began. "We want you to help us attack an Isle in our world. It will be extremely well guarded but we need someone on it killed as soon as possible."

The Mayor stroked his chin. "And how much would you want for this holiday to your world?"

"No, it won't be a holiday," Winston said shocked. "It will be an assassination and probably a big battle."

The Mayor shrugged. "Battle, holiday, same difference my boy! Same difference indeed! My lot would love a chance to have a play around in your world, and if there's a ruckus or commotion they'll probably enjoy it even more, that they would!"

"So how about we call it even then?" Winston asked. "We really need your peoples help and your people really want to 'play' in our world. Everyone's a winner, kind of."

"Deal!" the Mayor almost shook his hand off. "My public relations will sky rocket after this my boy! Now that we've sorted that you better tell me the details of this attack, assassination, battle, and holiday."

“Well, there is an Isle in the centre of our world and the person we need dealing with should be in a big tower on the middle of it. We were hoping to sail to the middle of your ocean with any of your forces that are willing to help and then attack the isle through a portal I’ll open.

The Mayor’s black eyes went wide with surprise. “The middle of the ocean? But my boy, don’t you know what’s in the middle of the sea?”

Winston hesitated. “Not... an Island?”

“Flesh Mountain is at the heart of the Gloom Sea, of course!” the Mayor shouted.

“What’s a Flesh Mountain?” Winston had the feeling that he wouldn’t like the answer.

The Mayor shook his head. “Honestly, what do they teach people in your world? Flesh Mountain is the gargantuan mountain of, well... flesh, at the centre of our world. Its thick tendrils span the entire ocean! That they do!”

“Fuck!” Winston’s plan was shattered.

“Not to fear, my boy! Why not just have our ships cross over before that point?”

“The island is very well defended. There are guns along the shoreline and battleships anchored there, they’ll see you coming a mile off and that will be that.”

The Mayor waved his hand nonchalantly. “Bah! Bah indeed! We’ll strike at your dark-time and get Mortissa and her dames on it! She’s got some nice creepy magic that will keep them all hidden until it’s too late!”

“If you’re sure she’ll be able to cloak them then that might just work.”

“Oh, it will work, trust me my boy!”

“Right, now we just need some ships. The Foreman in Pollutia said he’d be up for helping, and that someone called the Commodore of the Colonies would be game too.”

“Oh, so old rusty-bollocks and snooty-pants want in on this fun too, do they? This is going to be quite interesting, quite interesting indeed! I shall give them a ring now.”

“Cool, thank you.”

“Not at all, not at all my boy!” The Mayor went to his desk and picked up his phone, which had a severed spiralling cable, and dialled in some numbers using the old fashioned rotating interface. “Hello, operator? Yes, please connect me to rusty-bollocks.”

Winston heard a confused mumbling from the other end.

“The
Foreman
. Don’t you know I call him rusty bollocks?! Honestly...”

After an angry mumbling back, a different voice replied.

“Hello, hello Foreman rusty-balls, you old devil you! Yes, I’m with Winston now,” the Mayor said happily. “Yes, I’ll pass on that you think he’s a legend. Yes, he’s discussed a plan with me and we need to send some people out to sea near Flesh Mountain. Yes, I told him it’s dangerous. Yes, he’s a brave sod indeed. We’re getting Mortissa to help so you shouldn’t lose too much.” The Mayor nodded his head a lot. “Yes, yes, yes! No, no, no! We’re trying to be a bit discreet. Yes, I know it’s boring like that, but you don’t want the delicious delicacies to disappear do you? Okay, I’ll give him the good news. Let’s meet in Hellion Harbour as soon as possible, and bring someone to fix my other-world guns. Oh, and call the Commodore. I can’t be bothered. Tata, my old chap!”

“They’re sending help, then?” Winston asked eagerly.

“Can’t speak for the Commodore, but the Foreman is sending two Ironclads and some saboteurs our way, He wanted to send the whole fleet but I thought it might be a bit much, that I did!”

“Yeah, good thinking. What about you?”

“I know of a top class seafaring scumbag who’ll be up for this challenge. I’ll get him to commit a few ships and I’ll pick the deadliest, sneakiest, and nastiest people from my little slice of the world to help out!”

“So when do you think we’ll be ready to go, Mr Mayor?”

“Hmm... it’s hard to say, indeed it is! It really depends on how calm the sea tendrils are. If only you had a phone; I could let you know that way.”

“I have a phone but I don’t think it would do any good calling between worlds.”

“May I have a look?” the Mayor asked politely.

“Okay... sure, why not.” Winston handed over the phone.

The Mayor looked at the device and tapped away at the keypad. “Oh, I wish one of those Pollutia chaps was here... I might force one to stay... ah, I know!”

He pulled the back of Winston’s mobile phone off and plucked a little bit of wire from the severed twisty cable from his own phone handset, sealing it inside Winston’s. He clasped it in both of his hands and made them glow with witchlight.

“There you go, my boy! Give it a try!” he said, handing Winston his phone back.

Winston looked in his list of contacts and scrolled down. There was a very long and strange number filled with letters and symbols saved under ‘The Mayor’. He pressed it and the Mayor’s landline began to ring.

“See, all set, all set indeed!” the Mayor cheered. “I have your number memorised so I’ll give you a call when we’re all gathered in Hellion Harbour. It’s south, southeast of here, so if you can meet us there my boy!”

Winston was only left waiting for two days before the Mayor called. He was lying in bed in Veronica’s room, admiring her beauty as the afternoon sun kissed her skin, when his phone let out a distorted screech and flashed up with ‘The Mayor’. Winston answered the call, which to his surprise worked well if not slightly crackled, and then messaged Xavier and Lewis. He got dressed in some casual clothing in a hurry. Veronica yawned, drank a swig of Sunshield potion and followed suit, choosing a plain black t-shirt and jeans for the trip to the Gloom.

They all met in Lucius’ room and discussed who was going.

“I am staying,” Lucius had begun. “Should the Trinity choose to react in any way then I want to be here to deal with it myself. Winston and Xavier, I trust you to handle this. Lewis, I want you to stay too with half the guard.”

Lewis was very disappointed. “But boss, I want to see this attack!”

“As do I, but I can’t have all my best people in one boat in the middle of the Gloom Sea, especially if the Trinity choose to peg the attack on us right away,” Lucius replied gravely.

“Okay. I suppose that makes sense,” Lewis said sadly.

“So it’s me, Xavier, and who else?” Winston asked the room.

“Me.” Veronica grabbed his arm. “I’m not letting you do this without me, sweetie.”

“You know I’m not actually going on the Isle, right?” Winston said to her.

“Yeah, but this Flesh Mountain thing sounds freaky and dangerous!” she replied.

“That means we’re going to have to break up one of you happy couples,” Xavier said to Kavarne, Lynette, Alexander, and Brooke.

Alexander raised his hand. “I’ll go. I’m curious about these Alternative ships and I want to see what this Flesh Mountain is like.”

“You would have made a fine Archivist, Alex,” Lynette joked.

“You take care in there,” Brooke said concerned.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Alexander said confidently.

With the arrangements made, the Gloom travellers made their way to the coastal city of Galleon Anchorage. Winston assumed that would be where Hellion Harbour would be in the Gloom, and if not it would be pretty close. They took one of the armoured vans and arrived there in the early evening.

They parked up at the Barnacle Blues pub, a local gang safe house which overlooked the impressive Imperian harbour. Although most of the battleships and destroyers had been requisitioned by the Inquisition forces on Central Isle, a few were still stationed here amidst the fishing trawls and cargo ships. World Banners waved proudly in the wind, flocks of seagulls squawked overhead, and the whole area around the seafront smelled like salt water and fish and chips.