Journeyman: The Force of the Gods: Part I (36 page)

Peter stepped through first, and materialized right in front of someone, such that they walked straight into him. They both fell over, and Atlosreg stepped over them and closed the portal.

The person who had walked into Peter stood up first, and helped him up. Once he had dusted himself off, Peter looked at the other person. It was Eric.

‘Hey Pete, haven’t seen you for ages. How’re you doing?’

Peter wasn’t sure how ready he was to say anything to Eric, but he didn’t want to simply fob him off, dismiss him. They were friends, even if Peter wasn’t sure he could trust him with this.

‘Alright, and you?’

‘Nod bad. Eddie was jumping up and down after you were last here though, I heard.’

‘I’m not surprised.’

‘What was it all about?’ Eric seemed genuinely concerned.

Peter wasn’t sure how much he could say. He didn’t want to make Eric as angry as he had made Eddie, but he did feel like he owed him the truth, or at least some measure of it. ‘Atlas here –‘ he gestured to Atlosreg ‘– and I came across a serious threat to the Guild. Eddie seemed to think it was my fault.’

Eric looked around. ‘That’s odd. He hasn’t said anything to us about any threats. He was ready to have locked away though, he was bloody furious. Seemed to think you yourself were the threat.’

‘I suppose he would think that,’ said Peter, resigned.

‘What are you back for now then?’

Atlosreg cleared his throat and spoke before Peter could formulate an answer. ‘We are here to find out what Peter needs to do next in his own effort to protect the Guild.’

Eric looked at Atlosreg, slightly apprehensive.

‘Atlosreg is from Werosain. He defected in the thirties because he saw through the Werosaian lies.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Well,’ Peter added, ‘he left Werosain, but kept to himself.’

Eric chuckled. ‘I’m familiar with who Atlosreg is.’

Peter looked between them, amused. Of course he would know who Atlosreg was: it seemed that, even though Peter had been a member of the Guild for several years, everyone still knew something he didn’t.

‘Anyway,’ Peter said slowly, ‘We have this to do, so I’m afraid we’ll have to love you and leave you.’

Eric nodded. ‘Alright. See you around.’ They shook hands, and Eric walked away do carry on about his business.

The two of them, now alone, quietly made their way toward the bottom chamber of the Guild, and once they were there Peter walked slowly toward the tomb, holding a soft note on his flute.

The note cut through the force guarding the stone, giving Peter – at long last – some traction against this ancient and raw power. He blew a few more notes, and felt some of the protective enchantments slide open to allow him inside. There was something about this kind of power which really
did
seem beyond magic; something which felt as though magic wasn’t a subset, but of which magic was a mere imitation – and a very pale, anaemic one at that. This was the real stuff, the original. The force of the gods – whatever gods they were.

But then, something must have happened. Suddenly the chamber was full of a bright light, almost like sunlight, and people began to flood down into it. After a few minutes, Peter, Atlosreg, and the tomb were surrounded by a crowd of people, with Eddie coming up to Peter, close, and taking his arm to turn him round.

‘Fuck,’ Peter whistled through the flute. Sparks came from it, and the whole chamber felt like it was accumulating a gargantuan static charge.

‘Stop it,’ said Eddie: though he wasn’t speaking as Eddie now, Peter’s friend. He was speaking as the Steward of the Guild of Magicians. ‘Stop it now.’ The last word resonated and repeated, multiplying in acoustic power until Peter thought his eardrums might burst.

‘No,’ replied Peter quietly. ‘I can put an end to all of the Guild’s problems right here and now.’ He turned back to the tomb, feeling with his power to see what he needed to do to open it, and then it all simply presented itself to him. It was as though the tomb wanted to be opened… it was just waiting for the right person to come along, and had been all along.

‘I am going to try and open it,’ Peter whispered.

Suddenly the silence in the chamber was tangible, the static charge growing to a crescendo. Eric stepped close to Peter.

‘Do you have the smallest clue what you’re doing?’

‘Of course I do. I’m exposing the Founding Flame.’ He didn’t look at Eric to reply; he was concentrating on the tomb. He raised the flute to his lip again, and began to play a rising sequence of notes. The sound wasn’t exactly musical, but it was harmonic and seemed to resonate with the very fabric of reality.

Eddie was saying something as well now, but Peter was concentrating hard; all he could hear was the flute as he played. The energy flowing through the chamber was enormous, and it slowly and steadily began to chip away at the bonds holding the tomb closed. Nobody attempted to stop him as seconds and then minutes scrolled by.

The energy being occluded by the tomb was becoming exposed now, and the notes coming from Peter’s flute were resonating with the stone door itself, making it visibly expand and contract in harmony with the tones. It was going to shatter out of existence, and it was going to do it soon.

As the door slowly shook apart, the note from Peter’s flute grew louder and louder – so loud that Peter himself momentarily though it would be all he ever heard again. The stone set into the doorway was turning into dust and ash, and old screams were lingering on the air, escaping from the other side. Ancient sounds, sealed in along with the horrors which caused them, unsealed after twenty thousand years.

And then the door was open, the note no longer playing. It lingered for a few seconds, and then was gone, replaced in Peter’s ears with his own laboured breathing and heartbeat.

‘It is done,’ he said, finally.

The other side of the doorway was dark, and it took a few moments for what was inside to resolve in Peter’s vision. A still flame, dark red and putting out no heat, burning atop… a blackened skeleton. He went to step inside, but a steel grip on his shoulder yanked him back forcefully, dropping him onto his backside a couple of feet outside the tomb.

He looked up to see who had pulled him back. It was Atlosreg, and he looked concerned.

‘I do not think it would end very well if you went in there now,’ he said.

Peter looked back into the tomb. ‘No,’ he agreed. ‘Maybe you’re right.’ He turned round and saw everyone was stood, having collectively turned pale.

‘So,’ said Eddie, ‘this is what your plan is – your little game. You’re saying you’re so concerned for the Guild, but you’re the one putting it in danger.’

‘That’s bollocks! I told you on Knifestone what the plan is.’

Eddie punched Peter square in the chest, knocking him into the stone doorway and cracking the back of his head on it, making him see stars. He drew his hand back to punch Peter again, but was stopped by Atlosreg’s wand, which was suddenly pressing into Eddie’s temple.

‘Try it,’ said Atlosreg, loudly, ‘and you will be dead before you get your hand gets half way.’

Peter groaned and waved at Atlosreg as he stood up, signalling him to stand down, which he did somewhat hesitantly.

‘You agreed when we spoke about it on Knifestone,’ he said, ‘that it would be safer for everyone if Werosain wasn’t there.’

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter could see Eric staring, mouth gaping. There were murmurs among the gathered throng, and Eddie’s face glowed red with rage.

‘I never agreed to you opening the bowels of the Guild,’ he said. He was measuring himself, apparently taking great pains not to let his rage get the better of him.

Peter laughed, thinking about the irony of the situation. He was getting a strong impression that the Guild needed this perpetual war in order to maintain its own integrity, like Big Brother did in the George Orwell novel. The key difference between Winston Smith and himself, however, was that there were none of the deceit or lies from that story here. Maybe the Guild didn’t realize that it was dependent on the war. Or maybe it was too obvious to mention; the Guild had been established
because
of the war, after all.

It would be so much better, Peter thought, if it could just be free of that, and have the time to dedicate to being more of a centre of learning: these were some of the best minds in the world, and there were some magnificent things they could to if they had the chance.

‘You’re scared,’ he said quietly to Eddie. He looked around at everyone and said it again, projecting his voice for all to hear. ‘All of you, you’re petrified. It isn’t that you think this is actually a danger to anyone, except whatever threats Werosain might pose to us – which we’re all prepared for. It’s that you’re scared of change. You
don’t want
an end to the war, because you haven’t got a fucking clue what you’ll do if you don’t have to fight all the time.’

Eric stepped in close. ‘Pete, you’re right, everyone is scared, and so are you. But what makes you think you can end Werosain?’

To hell with it, Peter thought. They had all seen what Peter knew, or a good portion of it, and there wasn’t any point in hiding anything any longer. ‘There’s something about the magic that holds it together, it’s like knitting. You can unpick a spell – you know that. Werosain’s just the same, it can be unpicked. By extinguishing that flame.’ He pointed.

‘But the flame,’ said Atlosreg, ‘will protect itself to the end. It needs to have the owner of its power destroyed before it becomes mortal and liable to being put out.’

Peter hadn’t known that bit. He turned rapidly back to face him. ‘I need to kill Rechsdhoubnom,’ he said, a little dumbly.

‘I think so.’

‘Twat. You could have told me that before.’

Eric looked on, bemused. ‘Are you being serious?’ He said.

‘Deadly.’

‘You actually think you can do that?’

Peter wasn’t sure if Eric was making fun of him, or expressing genuine concern or curiosity, but he decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. ‘I think I might have a chance. The magic is simple enough…’ He trailed off, noticing the blank look Eric was giving him.

‘Simple? You’ve done something here that nobody’s done in millennia.’

‘I don’t know anything you couldn’t have found out.’ It was true. Peter didn’t have any greater gift of intelligence – in fact, he would have been the first to say that he was probably only the meanest shade over average – he was simply more adamant in his desire to learn, and had managed to pursue his quest for knowledge effectively – whether by luck or whatever other means. ‘But it is simple in its way. There’s nothing that dreadfully brain-boilingly complicated about it. It’s just different, is all. Like… like learning a different language.’

Eric blinked, apparently understanding that Peter was right, but not wanting to stand down.

‘Are we quite finished?’ Interrupted Eddie, voice saturated in sarcasm. ‘You’ve opened the door to Hell and you stand around gossiping.’

Eric, Peter, and Atlosreg all looked at Eddie. There was tension mounting between them again, slowly, and it very much looked as though Eddie was, again, going to be the one to break first. Peter, for his own part, knew he was in the right – or at least hoped he was – and wasn’t about to back down because of Guild politics – or any other kind of politics. If he played this right, he would be able to end the war between Earth and Werosain once and for all, and free the Guild from the problems associated therewith.

Obviously, Eddie didn’t see it that way. He saw Peter as being an insubordinate child, probably he had done since the start. He didn’t seem to understand that this
really
could
work, if only Peter had the support behind him.

Eric, on the other hand, seemed slightly more prepared to accept what Peter was saying. There was an element of brotherhood between him and Peter, and Peter had a feeling that if he could help, he would. At the same time, however, Eric didn’t want to betray the Guild. He was the older brother, who was settled and closer to his parents.

Which left Atlosreg and Peter, fighting alone as usual. But that was fine, it was how it had become now, and it seemed that the two of them made a good duo – or, at least, each one’s strengths compensated for the other’s weaknesses.

‘Are we finished?’ Eddie said again. Peter looked at him and chuckled.

Maybe they were finished, at least for now, but Peter didn’t answer. Instead, he raised the flute again, and began to replace all the protective spells on the tomb, reintegrating the stone door and closing the seal again.

Only when he had finished did he speak. ‘For now, but there’s more to do.’ Eddie did not look impressed. ‘It should be more than possible to call an end to Werosain though.’

There was little by way of disagreement from the other Guild members, and Peter thought this was very encouraging. However, there was more he wanted to say. He looked at Atlosreg before continuing, wondering if he would try to stop him. He got only a blank look back. ‘I would like to propose that we try to move all the innocents from Werosain to a safe location on Earth.’

The reaction of everyone there was one of instant outrage, and completely outweighed anything positive he might have felt about the lack of disagreement to him ending Werosain. People began yelling, and Eric jumped back as if Peter had hit him. Eddie stood there, looking calm but obviously still enraged. He looked as though he was about to burst – or at least he did to Peter.