17. Darkness #2
“We’re doing this tonight? After what happened in the crypt today?
Shouldn’t he root out the spy first? There must be someone planted within our ranks, whether from the Praecuri or Golden Sun.
There’s simply no other explanation for someone making it past the chimaeras, much less into the family crypt, which should have incinerated them upon entry! ”
I heard a faint scoff.
It echoed down the stone walls, like their words.
“There is no spy,” the voice said contemptuously. “None that is new, anyway. He knows exactly who the traitorous scum is within these walls.”
“Who?” the first voice demanded.
“Malefic knows. That is enough.”
“As do you, I suppose?” a third voice asked.
I didn’t know any of the voices, but I knew all three were male, and none was Malefic. They sounded shockingly close, although I guessed they were only now rounding the gradual curve that followed the round tower’s outer wall.
The second voice scoffed again.
“You should know, as well,” he said pointedly. Without waiting, he added, “…And no, our Dark King is not worried about this. Certainly not enough to change plans that have been under construction for weeks.”
“But shouldn’t he be?” the first voice asked, apparently immune to the warning underlying the other’s words. “Look what happened last time––”
The owner of that other, more arrogant voice barely seemed to hear him.
“It is my understanding that the Dark King would like to use tonight’s operation as a training exercise.”
I practically heard him smile, right before he continued in that melodic lilt.
“…It’s meant to be a message of course, too, and not only to the Magus Imperius and his lapdogs.
Our Master fully intends to demonstrate who, exactly, controls England now, and just how much power he wields.
We will let the rest of them know, too: the Ethnarch, the other regions, and the Traitor King included, just how little resistance we will tolerate. ”
“So it begins tonight?” that third, more cautious voice asked. “It will be war?”
The mage didn’t sound particularly happy about the prospect.
The next voice did.
“Of course it is war,” a fourth, female voice scoffed.
Something about that voice sounded disturbingly familiar.
The witch went on, her tone flippant.
“It was always going to be a war, Ramses,” she said.
“Why drag things out? The last thing our Master needs is to give those greedy, slovenly fools time to grow a spine, or to ferret out the true loyalists in their ranks. Trust me, there is already talk of spies, and not only on our side. They will be looking already in the halls of the Magus Imperius and the Palace of Lions. I know the Praecuri are looking.”
“Are they?” the first voice asked, alarmed again. “Actively? Since when, sister?”
The witch’s voice sharpened. “I told you this weeks ago, fool. Orrin knew, well before we’d finished planning tonight’s attack. I told everyone we have to be more cautious with the information fed to us through various channels––”
The second voice cut them off.
“The point is,” he purred in satisfaction.
“Malefic would like to unify our people quickly, now that we have the numbers and the magic. He would at least like to unite all the royals, as many as can be united before the great day, and as bloodlessly as possible. As he has said, time and again, he would save as much Magical blood as possible prior to his Ascension, and the battle against the unnatural world that will follow.”
His voice grew a touch more warning.
“That is what we prepare for, brothers and sisters: our Dark King’s Ascension and our race’s rebirth through the Great Ritual. Everything must be done to ready ourselves for these holy events. Everything else is mere preparation or distraction from this.”
“But how soon will these holy events actually occur?” another voice grumbled.
The second voice grew a harder note.
“Sooner than you think,” he spat coldly.
“We cannot wait, brother, even if it were desirable, which it is not. I don’t know if you saw the latest news from Ireland, but an entire herd of dragons has grown mortally sick.
In other herds, the females are refusing to reproduce.
Even more worrisome is the recent survey of magical levels conducted by the Biological and Alchemical Foundation of Moscow, utilizing children born in the last ten to fifteen years.
The results are harrowing, to say the least. If we do not stop them, the humans will destroy our entire world…
and us along with them. Or worse, they’ll turn us into mindless beasts, like them. ”
I heard murmurs of agreement among the others walking, followed by a somber silence.
I felt my jaw clench as that silence deepened.
Despite the anxiety still running through me, making it difficult to think, most of what I felt was frustration. While listening to them, I’d thought, if I couldn’t get to Bones today, maybe I could at least gather intelligence that might help others stop Malefic.
I’d understood most of what was said, but the specifics were lacking. Assuming I could get out of here, what could I even tell Forsooth and the others?
That Dark Cathedral meant to attack human Earth?
Everyone knew that.
That they had spies in the regular armed forces, the Palace of the Lions, the Magus Imperius’s offices, probably the military, but I had no idea who any of those plants were, or the exact areas they’d infiltrated?
They knew all of that, too.
It might be news to them that Dark Cathedral intended to unite the Magical world prior to attacking Earth, but I had my doubts it would surprise Forsooth.
Staging their attack over a number of months struck me as logical.
Malefic made no secret of his dislike of the current systems of government, particularly how much the King deferred to the Ethnarch and the Magus Imperius.
He’d also made it clear he wanted a world led by the strongest sorcerers in Magique, and that he wanted those sorcerers ranked by their power and magic.
It made sense he’d want at least some of that hierarchy in place first.
Which brought me to the “Great Ritual,” and Malefic’s so-called “Ascension.”
Those references might interest Forsooth and the others, but I couldn’t give them much there, either.
I could guess what the ritual itself was, but I had no idea what “ascension” meant in this context.
Malefic planned to “ascend” prior to performing his Great Ritual to collapse the human and Magical realms?
What in the gods did that mean?
The one mage had said it would happen “soon.” What was soon to Malefic and Dark Cathedral? Next year? Next week?
The most dire, immediate question lived in the attack tonight.
Where were they attacking? Who? For what purpose?
How could I warn anyone when I didn’t know anything useful?
“But how can we do this thing tonight without…” the first one began. He paused, and I imagined him looking up and down the hall, checking for eavesdroppers. “Surely, he won’t cooperate this soon? The traitor?”
I tensed.
They were still walking away. Their voices were already less loud.
Eye of Ra, someone answer him, before the voices disappeared completely!
A fifth person spoke up, one I hadn’t heard before now.
“Of course he will cooperate.” The new voice smirked through her words, her tone darkly humorous. “I don’t like his chances for this world, were he to balk. Anyway, he’s bound now, isn’t he? He has taken the vow. It cannot be broken.”
I bit my tongue hard enough to taste blood.
The voices were getting much quieter now.
I strained to hear the final words.
“I suspect you’re right about him not wanting to give the Magus or that prick, the Ethnarch, too much time to think, Calvarias…” a mage added, his tone deferential.
It was too far away for me to be certain who’d said it.
Even so, I stiffened.
Was Sirena Calvarias one of the witches I’d heard? Is that why that first voice sounded familiar? Or was her husband there, and that’s who the mage meant?
“Malefic’s right,” I heard faintly, the voice even more distant.
“By Osiris, there’s no point hiding our numbers or magic now.
It’ll only take a few demonstrations before they realize we can get to them even if they dig a hole in the ground and cover it in iron and spells.
That little prick could probably get to them on the sun… ”
“At least he’s good for something,” a witch muttered.
I strained harder.
They must be right by the portrait of Malefic.
“It’ll make for quite the headlines,” another witch said, cackling.
A male voice responded, but I couldn’t make out more than a few words.
“…waiting… plan… never… alone…final…”
I couldn’t make sense of it. They had moved too far out of range.
The echo of their footsteps on the tile cut off, and the soft swish of their cloaks, and the softer squeak of shoe leather.
Even after I could hear nothing but the faint whisper of magical flames, and the occasional gasp of air down the corridor, likely from a door or window opened somewhere else, I strained to listen. I waited for someone else to walk this way.
While I waited, I didn’t move.
I scarcely breathed behind my magical shield as I fought to think, to decide what to do.
No one had come for me. They obviously didn’t know I was here. While a relief, the realization surprised me. Wouldn’t Malefic have added something to the chimaeras to look for me? Even if he wanted to lure me here for his own reasons, he’d want to be informed the moment I arrived, wouldn’t he?
And if he had been informed, why would his minions walk through the same area, talking openly of their plans? Why not come get me?
At some point, it occurred to me I’d been standing there for too long.
My legs had finally stopped shaking. I felt relatively clear-headed. No one in the castle seemed to know I was here. I needed to make a decision. I allowed myself a slightly heavier exhale, and leaned my forehead against the stone.
I still desperately wanted to find Bones.