Message Bearer (The Auran Chronicles Book 1) (34 page)

Rune after rune appeared
in the air then vanished. The Magister muttered under her breath, recanting the
magical words as they went. They didn’t seem to be much. Simple binding or
describing runes used to hide underlying complexity in powerful magicks. He’d
seen them before many times. Nothing special at all.

Strange. What is this?

The voice, uttered by the
Magister’s astral self, echoed in his mind. A rune hovered before him. It
wasn’t part of any tome that he’d ever read. Nor in fact, had the Magister,
judging by the way she spun it about in the air without calling it.

What is it, Magister?

Nothing, boy. Nothing of
consequence. Obviously some kind of function designed to ease its
understanding. Such bright people were the original magi.

Of course.
Seb replied. Had he noted an air of uncertainty in the Magister’s voice? He
dismissed it. She knew what she was doing.

The rune stopped
spinning. The Magister called the unknown magic.

Marek appeared. At least
an image of him. The room took a collective intake of breath.

‘What? What is this?’ the
Magister said.

‘Thank you for this,
Magister. I knew I could rely on your arrogance to aid me in my mission,’ The
Marek-phantom said.

‘What is this
abomination?’ Cian leapt from the throne and swung his staff through the
apparition. It passed through the other side, the image unscathed. The
Marek-phantom began to glow. The luminescence growing with each passing second.

The commune abruptly
ended. The wall of light evaporated leaving Seb staring at a wall of shocked
faces, principle amongst them was the Magister, who seemed to have visibly
shrunk in both stature and size. Between them, the image of Marek glowed so
brightly that it had morphed into a large glowing orb hovering in the air
before them.

‘What is this, what is
happening?’ one mage said, voicing the nervous thoughts that permeated the
group.

‘Magister! What is going
on?’

Seb blinked. He focussed
his eyes on the orb. He saw now the tiny runes dancing within, moving along the
lines like ants on a branch. Many of the words he recognised. He’d never seen
them called in this way before, but as he pieced them together, clarity struck
him.

No.

‘A bomb. It’s some kind
of bomb!’

‘What?’ Cian marched over
to the Magister who simply stood, slack-jawed, staring at the orb.

‘I don’t understand, it
was meant to be some kind of lost knowledge, not something such as this,’ she
muttered.

‘What? Seb’s right?’ Cian
said, his eyes widening.

‘It can’t be. How did we
not see?’

It all happened at once.
The door to the hall burst open. Cade appeared, caked in blood. Seb heard
movement behind. He looked back and saw Caleb appear behind the Magister. Yet
it wasn’t Caleb. It was a sheol in Caleb’s form, his aura blacker than oil.
Something flashed. The Magister gasped just as Cade yelled across the room:

‘Down!’

A gun fired, but the
sound was nearly drowned out when the glowing orb burst, and the world exploded
in a flash of light brighter than a thousand suns.

Seb dropped to the floor.
His eyes burned and his ears roared. Around him the magi screamed and yelled,
many of them on the floor with him. Only Cian remained standing. The shield
he’d erected crackling as the remaining tendrils from the blast dissipated.

‘Is everyone okay?’

Seb rose onto one knee.
He dared to open his eyes. Surprisingly, no one seemed injured. The other magi
were rising also. Stunned yes, but no one seemed to have suffered anything
worse.

‘What happened?’ Don
said.

‘Cian.’ the Magister
whispered. Cian looked down. His mouth fell open and he dropped to his knees.
Blood pooled under her where the Caleb-fiend had ripped open her gut. She
stared at the giant warrior, but the gaze was sightless, the void beckoning.

‘Magister!’

‘My vessel is broken. I
failed us.’

‘No, Magister. We were
deceived.’

The Magister shook her
head. She grimaced and coughed. Dark blood spat out onto her chin. ‘It doesn’t
matter. Can you feel it? Have you sensed what’s occurred?’

‘The sentinels.’

‘They sleep. Marek’s
magic did this.’

‘He will pay.’

‘In time. For now, defend
Skelwith. It rests with you now. I will see you in the Great River.’

The Magister passed. Seb
watched, dumbstruck as a pattern of energy left her body. It rose into the air
before dissipating into the ether. Cian looked up and Seb caught his eye. The
Battlemaster’s eyes glistened.

‘Outside!’

The shout from the magi
broke the moment. Cian blinked the tears away and turned towards the windows. Others
followed. Several of the magi rushed to the ancient glass as shrill shouts of
panic began to erupt from their ranks. Cian bellowed in an attempt to restore
order but his voice was drowned out by the combined clamour from the magi.
Through it all, Seb simply sat, looking at the motionless body on the floor. Not
at the Magister, but at Caleb. His grey eyes stared blankly towards the
ceiling.

‘Seb?’

He looked up. Cade stood
there, gun still in hand, one held out to him. Seb took it, noting absently the
way his own hand shook. Cade hefted him off the ground.

‘How did you know?’ Seb
said, looking back down at Caleb.

‘He’d attacked Sylph.
Killed two of my men. Even then I wasn’t hundred percent until I saw him lunging
for the Magister.’

Seb blinked. Reality
rushed back to him. He glanced around. The growing tide of panic from those at
the window was almost reaching hysterical proportions. From outside, where
darkness now blanketed the mansion, a horn sounded.

‘What the hell is that?’

‘The sheol. And my former
Brothers.’

‘It was a trap wasn’t it?
All of it.’

‘I don’t know. Yes,
maybe.’

Seb looked down. A shadow
seemed to gather around him. He’d been played. Played like the desperate fool
he was. He’d thought himself special, but in reality he was just some dumb sap
that had lapped up what he’d been given.

‘Don’t go there, Seb.
None of this is your fault.’

‘No? Tell me why? It
looks like it pretty much is from where I’m standing.’ They walked towards the
windows as Cian’s bellows began to instil a semblance of order.

‘Close the shutters.’ Cian
yelled. ‘Bar them all. I want men on the roof. Form a link. I need to know
everything that’s going on.’

Magi obeyed without
question. Training kicking in now as the initial shock faded.

‘How many?’ Cade said as
Cian turned towards them.

‘Unknown. Enough to finish
us off without the sentinels. Countless sheol, they stand out like sore thumbs
out there. A small number of the Brotherhood. Not that they deserve to wear
that title anymore.’

‘My father? Reuben?’

Cian nodded. ‘Oh yes,
they’re there. At the back, like the heroes they are. Marek is with them. He’s
blocking but the air is thick with his stench.’

‘What’s the plan?’

‘I’ll command from here.
Elites will cover all the main access points. One elite and one adept together.
We can’t afford to have our best all grouped together. The acolytes will fall
in as required. What about you? How many do you have?’

‘Twenty four in total. I
just lost two to that
thing
over there. I’m assuming all those guarding
the outer perimeter are lost too. I’ll take some to the roof. We can use ranged
weapons from there. The rest will cover the inner building for when they
breach.’

Cian nodded. ‘Good. Seb –
you stay with Cade. You haven’t worked in a coterie before so you won’t be any
use with any of the mage groups.’

Seb glowered but managed
to keep the smart quip that sprang to mind at bay. ‘What do they want?’ he
said.

‘What?’ Cian said.

‘What I said. They’ve
dropped the defences. The Magister is dead. Now they’re here. What is it they
want?’

‘Isn’t it obvious? To
wipe us out.’

It came and went in the
blink of an eye, but there was a pause then. Something else, there was
something else. Cade noticed it too.

‘Cian. What is it? Marek
wants something in here. What is it?’

For the briefest of
moments it looked like Cian was going to say more. He glanced between them,
mouth opening slightly.

That was when the world
erupted into flame.

They heard the shouts a
split second before two of the barred windows exploded inwards. Blasts of flame
struck the nearest magi, engulfing them in terrifying balls of purple fire.
Those that took the brunt of the blast were vaporised instantly, those who were
further away rolled on the floor in agony, their flesh and bones melting away
into charred, sickening stumps. Those not caught could only watch in paralysed
fear. Seb barely suppressed the bile that shot up his throat. It was just like
the Nexus, but the tables had been turned.

‘Breach!’

Cian’s mighty roar
shattered the fear-induced paralysis, but not before four sheol leapt through
the open windows. With the Consensus weak, they were hybrids now of human and
daemon, and bony limbs skittered on the wooden floor as they slid into the
centre of the hall.

One came to its feet
directly in front of Cian. A young boy, barely a teenager. He brandished a rusted
meat cleaver in one hand and grinned a manic smile when he saw Cian. The smile
vanished as its head crumbled under a vicious overheard strike.

Other magi rounded on the
possessed. The elites lead the charge, staffs ablaze with Weave-fire, cutting
through the primitive defences of the sheol. During the skirmish one of the possessed
rolled out of the melee, Seb noticing with horror that it was grappling with
the young acolyte, Harry. The youngster was unarmed, holding the daemon’s
snapping jaw back with all his strength whilst the beast took chunks out of his
hands and arms.

‘Cade!’

Cade saw the attack. His
pistol was out, aiming at the battle, but he didn’t fire. The grappling duo
were moving too quick to get a clean shot. Seb
focussed
briefly before
hurling himself onto the daemon’s back. The beast howled as Seb wrapped his
legs around its midriff, his arm clamping round its neck. He felt the weight of
the youngster vanish as the daemon released its previous victim, the beast
recognising where the bigger threat lay. It brought taloned hands up to Seb’s
unarmoured forearms, and he stifled a yowl of pain when he felt the talons sink
into his skin. He channelled, focussing the Weave on the arms that clamped
round the soft flesh of the daemon’s neck. His strength increased, the tension
growing on the beast’s neck. He gasped when his skin began glowing blue, and
small flames flickered to life on his skin. The smell of burning flesh filled
his nostrils. The daemon thrashed and kicked and wailed, but only briefly. Scaly
flesh succumbed rapidly to Seb’s Weave-fire, his iron grip melting through
bone, tendon and flesh as if they were nothing but air. The daemon’s head thudded
to the floor as he rolled away, the body still twitching where he left it.

‘Harry!’

Seb ran over and took
Harry’s head in the crook of his arm. The boy tried to speak. His mouth opened.
His eyes went wide, and then he breathed for the last time.

‘No! No!’ He stumbled
backwards into Cade.

‘Seb, not now. Grief can
come later. Come with me. I need you upstairs with us.’

Seb didn’t complain as he
was half-dragged by Cade up the staircase. Seven magi had died in the attack at
the expense of only four daemons. They couldn’t hold out. Not without the sentinels.
Already from elsewhere in the house he could hear the screams as more sheol
attacked, hurling themselves through the wooden shutters without fear for their
own safety.

They ran up the rickety
metal stairs that led onto the rooftop. The door was already open, and Seb
could hear the rat-rat of gunfire as Cade’s men sprayed silver bullets into the
surrounding gardens.  They emerged into a night that was laced with the bite of
a rising winter. A faint mist was descending, partly obscuring Cade’s men as
they hunched low against the wall. Cade forced Seb down against an air vent and
squatted in front of him.

‘Seb? You okay?’

‘He was only fifteen,
Cade. Fifteen. He didn’t deserve to die here, like that.’

‘Seb, you can’t dwell on
that. He gave his life for the Magistry, as will many others. We need you now.
Are you up to it?’

Seb looked at Cade, his
stare unwavering.

‘What do you need me to
do?’

Cade smiled. ‘Good. Then
we might have a chance. I need your sense. You can see what we can’t. The sheol
will have controllers. Senior fiends who control the ferals. They will be at
the rear. Show us where. We’ll do the rest.’