Sorcerer Rising (A Virgil McDane Novel) (10 page)

“We are sure,” the Mother Superior said. “But we cannot be sure of her magic’s strength or origin.”

“You can’t just look at her and tell?” Seemed like a pretty simple question to ask to me.

“Magic does not work like that, Sorcerer,” she replied quickly. “Human or otherwise. You know that. Our gift has its limits.”

“How did she know to come here?” I asked.

“Good question,” Sol replied, looking over his glasses knowingly. “It was one of the first things we asked after we dressed her wounds.”

“Wounds?” I asked. That was bad. That was always bad.

“Yes,” he said. “There were quite a few of them. She is still weak but has shown a remarkable ability to heal.”

Well damn. Nothing was worse than someone showing up on your doorstep with wounds, almost certainly dealt by some unnatural horror, than someone who showed up on your doorstep with wounds that healed overnight.

“Well, what does she have to say about it?”

“She does not remember,” he replied

“Which part?” I asked.

“Both. Everything.” I could hear the sadness in his voice.

“Everything?” I asked.

“Everything,” he echoed. “She does not remember coming to the church, who attacked her, even her identity. We only knew her name because of her identification, which I believe is fake.”

“You believe?”

“It was good, too good.” He gave me a knowing look. “Public identification is not this pristine or well made.”

Don’t ask me how an eighty year old Catholic priest knew how to spot a fake ID. Just one more of the interesting details that gave the Cathedral its charm.

“Is she telling the truth?” I asked.

Temperance frowned at me. “Of course she was telling the truth, boy. Do you think we would have just taken her word for it? I looked at her. We all did. She does not remember anything before Father Lee found her on the steps of the Cathedral.”

“Sorry, Mother Superior, I guess I’m just not putting too much stock in your sight today.” She narrowed her eyes at me but let that slide. “What were you able to see?” I asked when I thought it was safe.

She sighed. “Much the same as what I saw in you today. There was a lot, too much to discern anything that made sense.”

“It’s good that you are taking me to see her,” I said.

“As much as I wish to help you,” Sol said, “my actions are double sided. I thought so as well.”

I smiled. I should have known.

They took me to the Cathedral’s garden. It was a small courtyard somewhere
in the depths of the building, filled with color and life and massive trees that cast shade over most everything. I loved the garden. I’d asked several times why I couldn’t see the trees, which were taller than the whole building, from the outside but never received an answer.

Traces of the Sister’s work could be seen everywhere. The garden was an illusion of explosive growth but absolutely nothing was out of place. Everything was pruned, sheared back, maintained. Controlled. They were not ashamed of their power but they held the reigns and it was a tight grip. The garden reflected that.

They must have cleared out for the day though. It was empty except for a single woman. She was dressed in the full habit, but in place of the veil was a simple head covering that allowed her thick red hair to spill down her back.

Upon hearing us, she stood and came to meet us.

As stated earlier, I grew up Catholic. I went to a Catholic school. I have the fingers, and compulsive fear of rulers, to prove it. Absolutely none of the nuns I ever met, ever heard of, ever
thought
of, looked like the woman standing in front of me.

She was short, nearly the size of Temperance, but with the curves and figure to all but render the habit useless. Her features shone with her Fay bloodline. Supple
red lips, an almost feline face, and fair skin were framed by hair the color of glowing copper. Her eyes were the most startling, so blue and dark they were almost violet, with flecks of silver.

She smiled and I felt my face grow warm, which irritated the hell out of me. Self-consciously, I removed my hat.

She had a pad in one hand, a pencil in the other. On the pad was the half-finished image of a hummingbird.

“Virgil,” Sol said, indicating the nun, “This is Sarah.”

“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

She smiled back but I could read the suspicious look in her eyes. There was caution there, her eyes tracking our hands and faces
, looking for sudden movements.

“Any friend of the Father’s is someone I am glad to meet,” she replied. Her voi
ce was rich and smooth, London if I remembered correctly from my days in the Tower.

“Let us sit down while we talk
,” Sol said. “My old bones need rest.”

Sarah led the way, giving me an excellent view.

“You could have warned me, Sol.” I whispered, as Sarah led us toward the benches. It was very distracting. “Your job is so much better than mine.”

Temperance kicked me. Hard.

In the back of my mind, I swear to God, I heard Al purr.
I am remembering this
, he whispered in my ear.

Solomon eased himself down and Temperance sat next to him. Sarah sat across from me and pulled out a pen knife
, beginning to sharpen her pencil.

“So, what is this about?” she asked, focusing on the pencil.

“Virgil is a mage,” Sol explained. “He is leading an expedition and is looking for information. We are hoping that you may be able to help him.”

She kept going at the pencil with the blade, her strokes smooth, even, and not just a little forceful. “And how would you like me to help him?”

“We need you to use your sight,” interrupted the Mother Superior. She was obviously irritated, staring down her nose at the young woman.

I saw a muscle twitch in Sarah’s cheek. “I came here for help,” she said in a low tone, applying rough strokes to the lead. “I was told that I would not be able to use my...” She hesitated, her eyes flicking to the Mother Superior, and I detected a hint of bitterness and a wallop of sarcasm when she continued. “…talents within the walls of the Church. Why now? Did your narrow-minded, nearsigh
ted thinking taint your bloody sight?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. She was feisty. I liked feisty. Solomon gave me a
sharp look and shook his head.

Temperance narrowed her eyes at Sarah, ignoring me completely. “We have our reasons,” she replied coolly.

“And what are your reasons that I cannot leave this church?” the young woman asked, her voice heated. “I remember nothing but my own blood and this place.” She slammed the pencil down, breaking the lead. “How am I to know the two things are not related? How am I to trust you when you bring me a,” she pointed at me and I got a very clear look of violet eyes filled with disgust and scorn, “Sorcerer and tell me I should help him?”

I smiled slowly. “You know, the last time someone said that word, with that tone, while giving me that look, I left him gibbering to himself in a hallway.”

“Virgil!” Solomon yelled. “You will not speak in that manner in my church. Do I make myself clear?”

The nun tart and I stared each other down for a moment longer before I broke my gaze and looked at Solomon.

“Do I make myself clear?” he repeated. “Answer me or leave this church and do not come back.”

Solomon’s glare wasn’t quite as bad as the Mother Superior’s, but he could be a hard man when he needed
to. It wasn’t about fear or intimidation, it was about disappointment.

I looked back at Sarah and let out a slow, deliberate breath. “
Forgive me my rudeness.”

Solomon turned to Sarah and laid her out with that same stare. “As for you, young lady, you will show some respect. We have done nothing to harm you, did our best to care for your injuries, allowed you access to a place of sanctuary and protection. We have put a great deal of trust in you
, protecting you from something you cannot or will not tell us about. Please return the favor.

“And do not ever let me hear you refer to this man in that way again. Virgil fought for the Guild in the war, helped beat those Anderian monsters out of France and Germany. He was there when the
Emperor’s Sorcerers were destroyed. Show him that kind of disrespect again and I’ll throw you out into the street and let you deal with whatever chased you to our doors.”

Some women wilt under that kind of treatment. Sarah seemed like too hard a women to wilt, but she softened nonetheless.

Solomon continued, his voice softer. “You will help him because he needs your help. And in return we believe Virgil will be able to help you.”

She studied my face befo
re speaking, frowning. Pretty as the expression was, it grated my nerves. I knew what she was thinking. When she spoke, she did so slowly and never broke eye contact. “You are a Sorcerer, sir, and Branded. How exactly do you intend to help me, Mr...?” 

“McDane,” I answered. “Call me Virgil. And I assure you that I can do much more than you may expect, Miss…?”

She frowned. “I believe it to be Hale. I apologize for my behavior as well. If you say you can help me than I will do whatever I can for you in turn. What is it you need?”

“I have been hired to lead an expedition,” I replied. “I came to Sol for
help, but this particular problem eludes him.”

“I l
ooked at him but could not discern his path,” the Mother Superior said. “I want you to look at Virgil and help guide him down his path.”

“You want me to tell his future,” Sarah stated pointedly.

“No,” replied Temperance. “We have discussed this. That is not possible, not with our gifts. Ask the right questions to see the Truth in his path.”

“Whatever,” she said, dismissing the Mother Superior. “What is it you need to know?”

I shrugged. “My odds, I guess.”

She frowned.
“Where are you going?”

“Does it matter?”

“It may,” she shot back. “If you want my help it certainly does.”

I cleared my throat. “I have been hired to lead a research expedition to an unexplored location marked only by an atmospheric phenomenon.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You’re chasing the Rainbow?”

“I am providing a perfectly legal service,” I replied, “so as to avoid going around making voodoo dolls for angry housewives and laughing maniacally over crystal balls.”

“Could you even do that?” she asked

“I wouldn’t need to with you,” I shot back. “I can handle my part. I have forgotten more than you will ever know!”

“Enough!” boomed Solomon. “You two are like bickering children. I should take my belt to both of you!”

She leaned back and pouted her lips. “Would you like that?” she asked, running her tongue over her teeth.

For a very long moment I forgot she was a bitch.

“You reek of falsehood,” whispered Temperance viciously before Sol could react to Sarah’s brazenness. “Stop with this. I see that you want to help, I see that you do not enjoy acting like this, help and be helped already.”

Sister nun-tart glared daggers at the Mother Superior. “Fine.”

Scowling, her jaw set, she glared at me. Her power radiated from her skin. “I will help you,” she said. “If you are willing to help me in return.”

Her sudden intensity shocked me but I recovered quickly. “About time,” I replied. “You first. If I see you use your power that will tell me a little about you magic and maybe your identity.”

She gave me no warning. Her eyes closed tight and opened just as suddenly, hitting me with a wave of sensation not dissimilar from the Mother Superior’s. Her pupils didn’t change shape but the color deepened, becoming twin pits of violet darkness. I felt myself fall forward, into those eyes, felt as the whole world just tipped over. I grabbed hold of the bench, fighting the vertigo away.

I calmed myself and struggled to pay attention. Now that I was looking for it, I could feel the difference in her power. Underneath the normal fairy chaos was something else. It was interwoven within it, subtle and intangible, but there all the same.

And I had no idea what it was.

I relaxed a bit, looking Deeper. My vision changed as I peeled back the layers of perception. In my peripheral vision, I could just make out large, burning figures, clothed in gold and silver. I tried really, really hard to focus on Sarah and not pay them any heed. They returned the favor and did me the common courtesy of not stepping into my sight and wiping my mind from existence.

Angels were typically good like that.

I looked Deeper at Sarah, at her aura, her own personal Aether, as it became visible under my vision.

It was a pec
uliar aura filled with chaotic Fay magic, a natural mage’s talent, and a hint of something else. It drifted about her like smoke, rising from her body in great swirling pillars of red and white mist.

I focused harder, trying to identify that last element.
I could see veins of energy coursing through her aura. They were small, so intricate I barely saw them. They gathered thicker about her eyes, wrapping the dark spheres in gossamer strands of gold.