Science and Sorcery (42 page)

“I can lead you right to her,” Calvin said, softly.  “Or I could go ahead and spy on her.”

“Yes, you could,” Matt said, when Mindy had passed Calvin’s words on to him.  “And you might be seen by her.”

“She’s trying to control a whole city,” Calvin pointed out, “using spells that require her direct attention.  She won’t have time to see me.”

Matt looked down at Mindy for a long moment.  “Very well,” he said, finally.  “But don't go too close.”

Her brother’s ghost vanished, leaving Mindy feeling alone as they walked towards the Empire State Building.  The streets were still deserted, but the sounds of human wild animals were growing louder, howling torn from a multitude of throats.  They turned a corner and came face-to-face with a pile of bodies, all crushed by the mob and dumped in the middle of the road.  Mindy staggered back, unable to keep herself from vomiting up the meal they’d eaten before setting out on their mission; beside her, Miss Reynolds wasn't doing much better.  She took a swig of water from her canteen, washing out her mouth, and then passed it to the older magician, who smiled at her gratefully. 

“Curious,” Lesage said.  “There is no sign that any of the people here were raped.”

Matt scowled over at him.  “And that’s a good thing?”

Miss Reynolds pulled Mindy away before she could hear any more of the conversation, much to Mindy’s irritation.  She knew what rape was, at least in theory; it had been one of Calvin’s many crimes even if she didn't fully understand it.  And Calvin had also talked about Harrow raping the minds of her victims.  She found herself looking around for his ghost, but saw nothing.  Calvin was still somewhere near Harrow, lost in the twist of rampaging
mana
that surrounded the Queen of Nightmares. 

“We need to move on,” Matt said, as the SEALs scoped out the rest of the route.  “We have to get there before she realises we’re here.”

Mindy nodded and walked past the dead bodies, trying not to look at them.  She couldn't understand why Harrow had wanted them dead, although Calvin had speculated that she was trying to cut down on the number of minds she needed to control.  One of the SEALs muttered that they didn't look to have been sacrificed, which was a relief.  If Calvin had been able to do a great deal of damage with only six victims, what would Harrow have been able to do with over fifty?

And where
was
Calvin?

***

Being a ghost was strange, Calvin had discovered.  Quite apart from seeing things, including himself, clearly, without any of the lies and deceptions that humans frequently practiced upon themselves, ghosts saw the world in terms of
mana
.  Harrow’s presence was easy to see, even without the link between them, because of the effect she had on the local
mana
field.  He started to walk towards her before realising that he was binding himself with human limitations.  A ghost could drift through the air, or even fly.  It wasn't as if anything other than his own preconceptions were holding him back.

He drifted towards the
mana
flow, rising up until he was looking down at New York from a great height.  Harrow was standing right on top of the Empire State Building, her thoughts pulsing out all over the city.  Calvin could see hundreds of thousands of tiny strands linking her to her victims, all helpless against the influence she pushed into their minds.  If she’d started on a smaller scale, he realised grimly, she might have succeeded in taking the city without overstraining herself.  As it was, the mere act of keeping her thralls under control was pushing her to the limit.

Calvin’s eyes, no longer limited by humanity, peered at her.  Harrow was no longer fully human, if she’d ever truly
been
human.  Her thoughts extruded out of her human mind and into the
mana
field, shaping it in a manner that even a ghost found difficult to comprehend.  Once, long ago, he’d read a science-fiction novel where mighty AIs would extend their thoughts into hyperspace to allow them to run faster; now, looking at Harrow, he wondered if she’d somehow done something comparable.  If the Thirteen had truly intended to become gods, becoming creatures who were formed from
mana
would be the first step.

But what happens when the mana runs out
?  Calvin asked himself. 
They’d just blink out of existence like the old gods
...

He leaned closer, trying to study what she’d done to herself.  It looked as through her thoughts were slowly passing into the
mana
field, reshaping it...and, perhaps, overcoming her human limitations. 

And then she looked up and saw him.

Chapter Forty-Two

Washington DC, USA

Day 37

Calvin was alive
?

No, Harrow realised, a moment later.  Calvin was quite definitely dead.  But somehow he’d managed to cling to the mortal world as a ghost.  There was no mistaking that translucent form, or, for that matter, the signs that the other ghosts had taken a bitter revenge upon him for his foolishness.  And ghosts were harmless to the living.  Very few people without magical senses could even see them. 

“Fool,” she said, although she wasn't sure if she was speaking to either Calvin or herself.  The ghost could do nothing to her apart from distract her, and it was hard enough keeping so many minds in thrall.  “I cannot restore you to life, nor will I.  You turned on me.”

Calvin gave her an odd look, as though she’d said something that had hurt his feelings, and vanished.  Like most ghosts, his concept of space and time would be even weirder than any human concept, even that of a magician of the first rank.  Harrow looked at where he had been briefly and then turned back to her conquest...

The thought struck her a moment later.  What
was
the ghost doing near her?  There was no way that Calvin should have wound up attached to her, if only because they weren't blood relatives.  Harrow had never had children and she’d killed her family literally thousands of years ago.  Everything she knew about ghosts suggested that Calvin should have been haunting his sister, the only one he’d been unwilling to kill, or his parents.  She rather doubted that he would have wanted to stay in Arlington.  The ghosts there would eventually have ripped him apart.

Closing her eyes, she reached out with her mind, searching for people who didn't belong.  It was impossible to spread a completely secure ward out over a city the size of New York, but she
had
put up some basic early-warning spells.  And they hadn't been triggered...of course; the locals had a Hunter and several magicians of their own...and they even had Calvin the ghost to advise them.  They’d literally ghosted through her warning network.

In her prime, she would have turned them into toads and squashed them like bugs, but she didn't have the power to spare, not now.  Instead, she started to reach out to the mobs.  It was time they went to war on behalf of their mistress...and if some of them died during the fighting, it would ease the burden on her mind. 

***

“Calvin says that she saw him,” Mindy said.  “And that she’s searching for us.”

Matt swallowed a vile curse, reminding himself that Mindy
was
only eight years old.  “I think we’d better run,” he said, firmly.  The howling was growing louder – and although it sounded as if it came from animal throats, he suspected that it was the noise of the human mob.  “Now.”

“I think it may be too late,” Joe Buckley said.  The werewolf sniffed the air.  “There’s a mob coming up right behind us.”

Matt keyed his radio as they started to run, hoping that it would work despite the interference.  “Caitlyn, the target is on top of the Empire State Building,” he said.  “Can you deal with her?”

There was a burst of static, followed by a brief acknowledgement.  “Understood,” Caitlyn said.  “The Predator is inbound now.”

Matt glanced over at Mindy and then nodded to the werewolf.  “Carry her,” he ordered.  “And prepare to take her away from the rest of us if the shit hits the fan.”

Buckley scowled as he started to shift to wolf-form.  “You think it hasn't already?”

***

The Predator had been assigned to the CIA for deployment against terrorist leaders hiding in countries that were, at least diplomatically, friendly to the United States.  It had been pulled back to the US for refitting two weeks before the first werewolf had been sighted in New York City, just in time to be borrowed by the Mage Force and outfitted with one of the latest devices that Jorlem and his team had invented. 

Controlled from the FOB, the Predator swept in from the north, heading over Manhattan as silently as a ghost.  The whole system was intended to prevent terrorists from having any idea that it was even there, at least not before the first Hellfire missile was launched at its target, by which time it should be too late.  A primitive like Harrow shouldn’t even know to look for it, although she
had
brought down other aircraft in her takeover of New York City.  And even if she did, she would have problems knocking it out of the sky.  The main device mounted on the Predator was the latest model of the Niven’s Wheel. 

“I think I have her,” the operator muttered to Caitlyn, as she peered over his shoulder.  “There's a shitload of distortion around the Empire State, but our sensors think that there’s definitely at least one human life form on top of the building.”

Caitlyn smiled.  Maybe it
would
be that easy, after all.  “Take her,” she ordered.  “Now.”

The Predator launched two Hellfire missiles in rapid succession, both aimed directly at Harrow.  Moments later, the rooftop was wrapped in a brilliant ball of fire.

***

The attack came completely out of nowhere.  Harrow was knocked back to the rooftop as the missiles slammed against her wards, detonating against them with staggering force.  Only centuries of experience kept them in place; her knowledge of modern weaponry, purely theoretical, hadn't really encompassed what modern weapons were.  Angrily, she reached out with her mind, intent on finding the mystery aircraft, only to draw a blank.  There was a moving field of very low
mana
high overhead, heading away from her position.  The aircraft had to be hidden
inside
it. 

How was that even possible?  Harrow was trying to hold most of the city’s population in thrall and the mana field hadn't dropped
that
far.  But the moving patch of
mana
-less air high overhead suggested that the modern world had managed to find a way to limit the amount of
mana
in a given area.  In theory, Harrow could see how they’d managed it, but she’d never seen anything like it.  Few magicians would risk draining themselves completely of
mana
...

But the modern world had learned, over painful centuries, how to live
without
magic, without
mana
.  Their world operated under an entirely different system than her own.  Just as they – and Calvin – had had new ways of looking at
mana
, they might not feel the urge to
keep
magic.  What if they managed to shut it down completely? 

Desperately, Harrow reached out with her magic, heedless of the expense, and picked up a number of cars, pitching them through the air at the retreating aircraft.  An object in motion would stay in motion even if the spell holding it up collapsed, at least until gravity reasserted itself.  At least she could try to take the aircraft down before it returned...but how many more were there?  The modern world had a system for industrial production that far exceeded anything she’d seen in the past. 
They
didn't need trained sorcerers, or craftsmen, to produce their weapons.  And they had thousands of concepts they’d imagined over the years to draw on...

It crossed her mind that she should teleport out, abandoning New York, and find somewhere new to serve as a base.  She could spend years, if necessary, building up her knowledge of the modern world...but she wouldn't have that time.  The modern world would crack the secrets of magic, one by one, and combine them with their technology.  And then they’d find her and...

Her immortality was impossible to remove, but it depended upon
mana
.  If there was no
mana
, her life would end.

And if she lost this battle, everything would be over.

***

“I think she survived,” Caitlyn’s voice said, through Matt’s earpiece.  “She’s throwing cars after the Predator.”

Matt shook his head in disbelief.  The briefings had claimed that the latest model of Hellfire missiles could take out an entire terrorist complex with a single shot, but Harrow did have wards and at least
some
understanding of the modern world.  Even if she didn't really understand how a missile worked, she could certainly use her magic to shield herself. 

“Grief,” he said, as the first of the mobs came into view.  “I think we could be in trouble.”

The mob came after them like a swarm of zombies, moving at terrifying speed rather than shambling along.  They moved as if they were animated by a single mind, with more unity than Matt would have expected, but perhaps that wasn't too surprising.  Men who looked to be bankers from Wall Street rubbed shoulders with gangbangers and prostitutes, many with bloodstained hands.  Some were wearing their nightclothes, as if they hadn't bothered to get dressed before joining the mob, others were completely naked.  They all had the same expression, a hungry fury that chilled Matt to the bone.  It was easy to believe that Harrow was looking out through their eyes, eager for blood.

“Deploy the gas grenades,” Lesage ordered.  The SEALs wanted to try to stop the mob without bloodshed, but Matt knew that might not be possible.  Even a normal mob, without supernatural influence, would be far more resistant to pain than a single person.  Harrow would drive her slaves onwards until they were dead, or until there was no longer any threat to her supremacy.  “And then...”

“Too late,” Golem said.  Matt looked up.  Another mob was running out of a side street, heading towards them with deadly intent.  They were caught between two fires.  The SEALs might have been able to escape by scrambling up the walls – Matt had heard enough about what they went through during training to believe they could climb up anything – but he knew that Misty and Mindy couldn't escape that way.  “We may need to use deadly force.”

Matt glanced back.  The gas grenades had sent a number of mob members staggering to the ground in pain – the gas affected their eyes and noses as well as their throats – but the remainder had just trampled on them as they'd just kept coming.  It was a shame that there was no such thing as knock-out gas, like they showed in bad TV cop shows.  Apparently, the military was trying to invent one, but so far without success. 

Misty lifted a hand, casting a spell.  Several members of the oncoming mob stumbled to the ground, fast asleep, but the remainder kept coming.  “It didn't work,” she said.  Matt could hear the fear in her voice.  “She’s just got them under too firm control.”

“Yes,” Golem said.  “There is no other choice.”

He ran forward at terrifying speed, right towards the onrushing mob.  Matt watched in disbelief, then horror, as he tore through them with his arms, every blow far stronger than anything a mere human would be able to throw.  Heads shattered, bodies were torn in two and blood flew everywhere.  The mob just kept swarming around him, punching and kicking at his clay skin, until they were all dead.  Golem pulled himself out of the shattered mass of bodies and looked around him without any visible emotion.  Matt felt his rifle twitching in his hand, almost as it wanted to shoot Golem down.  He wasn't human and that made him a supernatural threat.

“You...”  Surprisingly, it was Joe Buckley who spoke first, shifting partway into human form.  “What have you done?”

“There was no choice,” Golem said, flatly.  Matt had heard plenty of justifications in his time, mostly from men who were trying to forgive themselves for doing something unforgivable, but this was different.  Golem was speaking the plain and simple truth, as he saw it.  He didn't even seem to
care
that he'd just killed hundreds of humans.  “Now, run!”

Matt swallowed a curse, caught hold of Misty’s arm and led her through the slippery mass of bodies.  They were going to have to do something about Golem, sooner or later, he told himself.  He wasn't driven by human impulses and he had his own duty, the same duty that had thrust him after Calvin the moment the black magician had shown himself.  But if he'd succeeded in killing Calvin, New York would never have been brought to the very edge of destruction. 

“There are three more mobs converging on your position,” Caitlyn’s voice said.  She sounded reassuringly professional, even though the UAV sensors would have picked up at least
something
of what had just happened.  Or perhaps she thought it was better to let Golem take the lead right now and try to destroy him later.  Who knew what would happen if he were placed in a cell next to a working Niven’s Wheel?  “The SEALs are going to do what they can to block them.”