The Relic Guild (36 page)

Moor shook his head. ‘We do nothing without Gadreel and Tabet. And that pathetic denizen is an empath of some skill. She would block any pain we inflict upon her both mentally and physically. She would gladly die before revealing her secrets.’

‘Truly?’

‘Trust me – I know these agents of the Relic Guild well.’

Asajad seemed amused. ‘Then this human is one of those who thwarted you so long ago?’

‘She is. Her name is Marney.’

Raising a hand to her mouth, Asajad tittered. ‘Forgive me, Fabian, but I still find it strange that Lord Spiral’s most merciless Genii would struggle against so lowly a magicker as an agent of the Relic Guild.’

Moor bit back an angry reply.

He could have told Asajad that the Relic Guild was not to be underestimated. He could have explained that forty years ago this empath and all the Resident’s agents had proved a force greater than even Lord Spiral had foreseen. But he saved his breath. In truth, Asajad had always been jealous that Spiral had chosen him over her as his favoured Genii. If she wasn’t so ruthless, Moor might have considered her childish.

‘Understand me,’ he said levelly. ‘I have been waiting for this day for four decades, and I will not risk everything we sacrificed simply because you are
bored
.’

She gave a pout, but her dark eyes glinted dangerously.

‘Have faith,’ Moor said, and he nodded towards the empath hanging so limp and wretched from the leathery branches. ‘This tree is a design of my own. It will harvest the information we require from the human – slowly but assuredly. Hold to that and find some patience.’

‘But all this inaction, Fabian!’ Asajad reached out and stroked a coiling branch. ‘Even the desire to feed has left me, and I grow restless.’

‘Here in this chamber, we do not need to feed. Here, we are whole.’

‘Funny,’ she said distantly, ‘but I find I miss it – the taste of blood, the fear and panic.’ She turned from the tree to face him. ‘Don’t you?’

Moor paused for a moment, considering.

Asajad pressed her point. ‘Surely we could use a few more golems about the place, Fabian?’ She ran her tongue across her teeth. ‘The denizens will learn to fear us soon enough, anyway. Am I right?’

Feeding needlessly seemed like a reckless thing to do, but then the days of hiding and waiting were over now. The chance to taste blood again, to drain that exquisite life-energy from a struggling human, was tempting, almost overpoweringly so. Perhaps it
was
time to return to Labrys Town. After all, it wouldn’t be long before Viktor Gadreel and Hagi Tabet required their help. And, of course, there were still a few loose ends to tie up.

‘What do you say, Fabian?’

‘Come,’ he replied.

He turned and pressed his hand against the cool, silver surface of the wall. The metal wavered, turning from solid to liquid. By the time it became shimmering air that gave a clear view into a shadowy alleyway, Asajad was already standing at Moor’s shoulder. She grinned at him.

‘Do try to temper your desire,’ he told her.

Van Bam had no memory of his natural parents. They had died when he was an infant, and he had been taken in by a church orphanage. As
a boy he had always felt alone, isolated from
the other orphans. The priests mistook him for an introvert
, a shy child who preferred his own company, but they
were pleased with his great passion for studying scripture. Little
did they know that Van Bam’s devotion to the
Timewatcher was born from a need for forgiveness. The shy
and introverted boy kept a secret; there was magic in
his veins, and he believed that only the Timewatcher could
absolve him of this curse.

When he had grown into
a young man, Van Bam became an acolyte, training to
be a priest. Church life suited him well, and he
considered himself an honest and faithful person learning from greater
men. It was a simpler time, a good time, and
he enjoyed tending the church gardens and reading scripture at
services. He hid his magic well, but deep down he
always knew that somebody would discover his secret one day
.

He reached his late teens before an old man came
to the church looking for him. His name was Denton
, and he carried a summons from the Resident. Van Bam
was to be taken to the Nightshade.

Of course, he
hadn’t appreciated at that moment that Denton was also
a magicker; the empath’s manner was kind and welcoming
, and just being in his presence had a strange, calming
effect. It hadn’t even occurred to Van Bam that
he might overpower the old man and run into hiding
. Where in the Labyrinth could he have truly hidden, anyway
? Curiously, Van Bam had felt somehow freed of burden. He
remembered feeling relieved that there was no more need for
lies and deception, and that his conscience would be clear
when he faced whatever punishment awaited him at the hands
of the Resident.

But when he had arrived at the
Nightshade, there was no punishment. He learned the truth of
the Relic Guild, and that being a magicker was no
crime if you used your skills in service to the
guild. Denton, that kind and generous old empath, had taught
Van Bam that his magic was not a curse. It
was a gift from the Timewatcher Herself.

So many years
had passed since that day. Despite Van Bam’s experiences
as a Relic Guild agent, his duties as Resident had
kept him too busy to acknowledge how much the Genii
War had stolen from them all. Only now, with the
Relic Guild so desperately needed, was he forced to fully
appreciate what Labrys Town had lost. And with that recog
nition came a deeper sympathy for those he had once called friends, who had been abandoned by their Resident as well as the Timewatcher.

Van Bam found Samuel up on the roof of his hideout. The air was warm and the sun was bright, and he leaned against a guardrail, staring down onto a street in the central district below. He did not turn as the Resident approached, but Van Bam’s vision could tell from Samuel’s colours that he knew his old friend was approaching. The old bounty hunter was in turmoil, but his anger had vanished.

As he came alongside Samuel, Van Bam could feel Gideon’s presence at the back of his mind. The ghost of the former Resident didn’t speak, but it was clear his interest was piqued. Van Bam left him to play the voyeur and respected Samuel’s silence, joining him in staring down into the street.

By day the central district was a hive of commerce, home to the merchant and industry guilds, the entertainment councils, the town bank, the main hospital and police headquarters. Below, the street teemed with people, and the sounds of their voices buzzed in the air along with the rumbling of trams.

Van Bam looked up towards the west, where the vague image of Ruby Moon hung in the clear sky. Invisible to normal eyes at this time of day, it was perceived by the Resident’s as a red ghost. He enjoyed seeing its hue, even though it loitered within a sky that appeared to him as a dreary canvas the tone of slate. Magic and emotion Van Bam always saw in colour; but for too many years now all other things had appeared to him only in myriad shades of grey. And of all those things, he missed the colour of the sky the most.

‘Do you ever think about it?’ Samuel said. He didn’t look up and continued watching the street below. ‘About the night we thought we had killed Fabian Moor?’

Van Bam knew his answer instinctively. ‘As his face was the last thing my eyes ever saw, it is occasionally difficult not to.’

Samuel nodded. ‘Did we make a mistake, Van Bam? Did we do something wrong?’

‘I have always reasoned we did enough.’

‘But the way the Timewatcher abandoned us. The way the Thaumaturgists just left. We must have done something to make them angry.’

Van Bam frowned at his
friend; he had never known him to sound so lost
, so …
ashamed
?

‘Samuel, each of us thought Fabian Moor had
died that night. We played our part in the Genii
War to the best of our abilities. The decision to
isolate the Labyrinth was not our fault. Why are you
questioning this now?’

Samuel rubbed his face. His hands were
shaking. ‘I thought I’d grown too old and tired
to really care about what the Relic Guild once stood
for. But now Fabian Moor is back, everything we ever
did feels so pointless. It’s humiliating.’

Van Bam’s
metallic eyes scrutinised the hues of Samuel’s emotions. At
the back of his mind, he felt Gideon’s amusement
grow colder. Obviously he found joy in the old bounty
hunter’s uncustomary moment of vulnerability.

Van Bam took a
deep breath of warm afternoon air. ‘Samuel, even in light
of Moor not being the sole surviving Genii, I have
not lost hope for our situation – not while so much
remains a mystery. For instance, I have been thinking about
this avatar that offered you the bounty contract on Clara
’s life.’

At the mention of the contract Samuel stiffened
– almost imperceptibly, but all too clearly to the Resident’s
inner vision. His shade flushed defensively.

‘Avatars are conjurations,’ Van
Bam continued. ‘And there is always a master controlling such
things, yes?’

Samuel nodded, albeit reluctantly. ‘I’ve been wondering
about that, too,’ he sighed. ‘
Someone
offered me that contract
.’

‘Indeed. But you are not the only one who was
approached by the avatar. And that would include me.’

For
the first time Samuel looked at Van Bam, his surprise
evident. ‘
You
saw the avatar?’

‘I did.’

‘When?’

‘The specifics
are not important, Samuel. However, I am beginning to suspect
that this avatar is more than a mere servant. I
have been asking myself if it could be the manifestation
of a portent.’

‘A portent?’ Samuel said. ‘You mean a future guide? You think someone’s using the avatar to
lead
us into the future?’

‘To deliver us to a specific point in time after guiding us through a particular set of events – yes,’ replied Van Bam. ‘Such things have occurred before.’

‘To the Aelfir, maybe, but not to us. Van Bam, who’s left in the Labyrinth powerful enough to summon an avatar and use it as a future guide? Even Hamir couldn’t do it.’

‘But what is to say the avatar’s master is even
in
the Labyrinth?”

Samuel shook his head. ‘That’s a giant leap of faith, Van Bam, even for you.’

Samuel’s closed mind had obviously not opened with age. Van Bam sighed.

‘Samuel, consider for a moment,’ he said. ‘What if the avatar used the owner of the Lazy House and Charlie Hemlock to bring Clara to Marney’s attention?’

Samuel nodded.

‘It then told me that Marney would send to the Nightshade the first magicker to be born for a generation.’

Samuel’s shrug needled the Resident, but he pressed on.

‘What if the avatar knew that offering you a bounty contract was the surest way to get you in the right place at the right time to see Fabian Moor return, but also knew that Marney would stop you killing Clara?’

Without even considering the exposition, Samuel shook his head. ‘Van Bam, you’re suggesting the avatar is a friend to us. I’m not ready to accept that.’

‘No? If you ask me, the avatar had a mission to bring together what remained of the Relic Guild, and knew which events would need to occur for it to happen.’

The old bounty hunter stood his ground. ‘What about Marney? Why didn’t it warn her? Why did it allow Moor to take her?’

‘If this avatar
is
being used as a portent, then it had no choice but to manipulate present events in a way that ensured they unfolded exactly as they had to so it could guide us to the future its master desires.’

‘Then someone has a dangerous way of going about things,’ Samuel said adamantly. ‘You’re talking about future knowledge, Van Bam. That’s the realm of the Thaumaturgists. For all we know, it’s Fabian Moor who’s controlling this thing, playing games with us.’

Van Bam’s irritation finally boiled over, and he clenched his teeth. ‘You were not so keen to distrust the avatar when it employed you to kill an innocent girl, Samuel!’

The older man reacted as if struck. Van Bam saw angry colours flare in his face, but before Samuel could reply the Resident took a step closer to him, ignoring the distant sound of Gideon’s chuckles.

‘What did the avatar offer you?’ he demanded. ‘I have to know, Samuel.’

The old bounty hunter’s anger evaporated. His shades became regretful hues and he seemed to shrink, as though feeling the weight of his age.

He shifted his gaze back to the street below, and when he spoke, shame had returned to his voice.

‘I’ve been thinking about Denton,’ he said.

Van Bam balked at the swerve in topic. The statement was so unexpected that he couldn’t prevent a laugh of surprise escaping his lips. ‘Strange – I have been thinking of Denton myself.’