Sorcerer Rising (A Virgil McDane Novel) (27 page)

The front doors were oak with frosted glass. The glass read Mullally Charterhouse in elegant, black lettering. Bronze runes were inlaid into the wood and they glowed angry red as I approached the door. I paused, but only for a moment. Gently, I reached out and touched the knob. When it didn’t vaporize me, I twisted it and pushed it open.

I stepped through the door and into a small lobby. It was fine looking but nothing special. Everything was neat and tidy. The furniture was well made and sturdy but not flashy. It looked more like the office of a shipping yard than one of the most lucrative
firms in Mare.

In the back there were several offices. The scene was busy and chaotic with several Wizards running around; gathering reports, taking stock of whatever they had gathered from the last run, putting together contacts, who knew what else. Hell, they could be counting bodies for all I knew.

A Wizard was standing in the middle of the lobby, talking to the cute little receptionist behind the desk. She must have been new, because I didn’t recognize her, but I knew the Wizard.

The receptionist’s eyes widened upon seeing me. Cruder turned around, his eyes flicking to my face, then the rings on my hand, then back to my face. The room came to a standstill. He picked up his staff from against the desk and walked toward me. His face was blotchy and lumpy, I guess the spider bites hadn’t healed yet.

“You got a lot of nerve, McDane,” he said, his face reddening.

“I’m not in the mood, Cruder
. Get out of my way.”

He poked me in the chest. “I don’t like your tone, Sorcerer. Give me one reason I shouldn’t just bounce you out of this place, make a nice little stain on the street?”

“Because Ben wanted to see me. He’d have to call Levi back to come collect me. Then he’d take it out on you.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Dolores! Has Mr. Mullally got any appointment today?”

The little receptionist jumped in her seat, then shuffled through her rolodex frantically. “No, sir,” she replied finally.

“What’s that about then, Virgil?” he asked. “Why doesn’t Dolores know about any appointment? Why should I let a lowlife sorcerous piece of trash into this building to, as you said, inconvenience an important man like Mr. Mullally? This about that warehouse? I knew that was you!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “And I don’t know why I don’t have an appointment. Levi picked me up a half hour ago and brought me here. That’s all I know.”

“Mr. Cruder,” Dolores said.

He ignored her. “I tell you what, Virgil. Because we’re old buddies, I’ll give you to the count of three to walk back out the door. After that, I can’t make any promises.”

I bent down so I could look him a little closer in the eye. “We aren’t old buddies, Willy, and I if you try anything I won’t exactly be making any promises myself.” I sniffed. “You should really do something about those bites. They’re starting to stink.”

“Mr. Cruder!” Dolores said again.

“What is it you great cow?” he asked, his eyes filled with murder.

The look she gave him showed what she thought of
that
. “I have Mr. Mullally on the line. He says to send Mr. McDane up to his office. “

The muscle in Cruder’s jaw twitched. “What?”

“You heard me, sir,” she replied. She paused, listening into the phone. “Yes, sir, I will tell him.” She hung up. “He also wants to see you when he is done to ‘talk about the way you talk to women’ is how he put it.”

I laughed and stepped around him. “Thank you, Miss,” I looked at her name plate, “Clark.” I tipped my hat to her.

She gave me a look almost as bad as Cruder’s and sniffed. “The elevator is up the hall.”

I left them all in the lobby, knowing damn well where the elevator was, enjoying the silence a little bit more than I should have. Always good to make a memorable entrance. Or at least not get vaporized.

I punched the call button and brooded for a moment. I was a good brooder, especially when I had to wait on elevators. I hated elevators.

At least it had only been Cruder and a few other apprentices. Anyone who mattered in the ranks would have their own office. Cruder was an enforcer and he was low on the totem pole. That was part of his problem. He was ambitious but didn’t have much beyond sheer power to back up that ambition.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Of course, it wasn’t empty.

Inside the elevator cab were Rose Dawson and Ebenezer Lyon, two of the most talented and respected Wizards in America, possibly the world.

Rose was resplendent as usual, in a charcoal gray business suit, a small stylish witch hat placed on her artfully done up, black hair. Her delicate, cherry staff in was in one hand, a small black clutch in the other.

Ebenezer stood proud and
regal in a gray suit worth more than, well, everything I owned. He was in his early sixties but had aged well. His staff, made of petrified wood, was gnarled and cracked with age.

They were both laughing. It was the end of their day and they were ready to go. They had probably just come from a meeting with Ben. That was the only thing that would have dragged them in, even being senior partners in the House, this late.

Upon seeing me, they both froze.

“Hi,” I said, giving a little wave.

They didn’t reply. They just kept staring at me. Finally, they shuffled off and I got on the elevator. Rose was having problems making those long graceful legs balance on her heels. Ebenezer was holding her around the shoulder.

I punched the button for the top floor. Something, I think Mozart, played in the background. I ignored how tired I was, how tired I was of having people stare at me like that, and listed to Mozart play as I rode the elevator up.

The top floor was used entirely for Ben’s office and the sma
ll sitting room in front of it.

Beatrice, his old battle-axe of a secretary, glared at me over her spectacles. “Go on in, Virgil.”

“Nice to see you too, Beatrice,” I said, doing just that. We had never really gotten on all that well.

I pushed open the door and was greeted with Ben’s office. Maybe you noticed a bit of a theme with the building. Ben didn’t like to display wealth. He felt it was beneath him. His office reflected that as well.

It was big, it was regal, and it was certainly sophisticated, but opulent was not the word I would’ve used to describe it. It was more a museum than an office. I had never fully explored it and to be honest, I didn’t know if he had either.

Display cases contained artifacts, specimen, mystical doodads, and things I couldn’t even begin to describe. He had weapons and armor from across the world and spanning the universes, ore, wood, and plant life from every corner of the Aether, stuffed specimens of natural, supernatural, and Aetherial variety, and every other thing you could dream of.

Over a collection of Fay sculptures sat a row of leprechaun skulls. He hunted them. Against one wall there was a fifteen foot tall golem made from geodes of amethyst. In one corner there was an honest-to-God dragon skull, its polished black surface glittering in the darkness, angry, red light glimmering just under the surface. There were books and research equipment, things that were still and things that moved, things that glowed, hummed, watched, and listened.

One of the few uncluttered spaces was a shelf, upon which were placed seven small jars. Each was filled with soil. A scoop from each of the worlds Ben had discovered. They were his pride and joy.

And in the back, behind his battered and weather stained desk, was fixed a massive, swimming pool sized aquarium. It took up the entire wall and went back so far I couldn’t see the other side. Of course, the sharks didn’t help with that either. Twenty or thirty of the sleek, silent predators patrolled its waters, their empty, black eyes watching everything.

I walked to his desk. He wasn’t behind it, wasn’t in the office at all that I could tell. Probably just wanted to let me squirm. This was either about the warehouse or about the Arcus. Either way, it wasn’t bound to be pleasant. The last time I had seen him, he was practicing his boxing form on my ribs while two other held my arms.

In an instant, the behavior of the sharks changed. One moment they were all swimming around in a big circle, one big happy school of bloodthirsty fish, the next it was chaos.

A piece of the coral detached itself from the miniature reef built into the floor and floated up toward the sharks. They swam faster, a renewed burst of energy as they attempted to evade the object. The coral’s color began to change, its form beginning to lose its shape. Tentacles unwound from the body and a great yellow eye blinked
open.

The next moment it flew through the water, its many tentacles wrapping around one of the sharks. For all its size, the shark didn’t stand a chance. The thing wrapped itself around the fish and there was an explosion of black ink. In moment
s, the black was replaced with red.

Well, that was new.

“What the hell was that?” I asked to myself.

“Hell if I know,” I heard behind me. Ben had walke
d in while I was distracted. “We hatched it,” he continued in his thick Irish accent. “Found the egg in the Pacific. We think it’s some type of kraken. Doesn’t matter.”

He walked in and made his way around me to his desk. He threw his cheap jacket on the coat rack and sat his blocky frame in the tall, leather chair, rolling his sleeves back and loosening his tie. A tie. Damn, he had been meeting with someone, probably with the Senior Houses.

Benjamin Mullally, Wizard and Chartermaster. He had discovered more worlds than most Wizards would see in their lifetime, held more patents on enchantments than some whole charterhouses. He consulted for nearly every house in the world, even the Senior Houses of the Wizard’s Guild. And he was my Godfather.

“Hey, Uncle Ben,” I said. Oh yeah, and there was that too.

My uncle leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes at me. He picked two stones up off his desk and began rolling them around in one rough palm. “What in the hell do you think you are doing, boy?”

I sat down in one of the chairs across from the desk. “I was trying to sleep.”

“Don’t get smart with me, boy,” he said, tightening his fingers over the stones.

“Call me boy one more time, Uncle,” I said, “And I will get more than smart. It has been a very long day and I have no patience for this right now. You sent the Leviathan. Just tell me why, or ask whatever it is you want to know. But don’t use up my time. It’s gone up in value as of late.”

“You need to take a step back from this,” he said, direct as ever.

“From?” I asked.

“The Arcus,” he said, his knuckles whitening. “You know very well what I mean. You are in well over your head. The Guildmasters don’t want you interfering any more than you already have.”

“Interfering?” I mocked. “That’s funny. I thought I was hired by someone completely outside the Guild to do a job. And I thought I was doing it relatively well.”

“Is that why I have a dead Wizard on my hands?” he asked.

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep tears out of my eyes. I didn’t have anything to say to that. I had let her die. It didn’t matter that she probably would have died without me there. It didn’t matter that I might have saved a few people’s lives either. It wasn’t ever about the ones you saved, just the ones you lost.

“I guess Dorne has already made his report?” I asked. Son of a bitch.

“Yes, he has,” Ben replied. “Came here directly. We conferenced with the Gabanna house and the Guildmasters have already decided that they will not be providing any more support to this rubbish. They’ve already lost a brilliant woman. They won’t offer anything else.”

I shook my head. “And Dorne? They’re pulling him?”

They would have better luck pulling a
giant’s tooth,” he replied. “They wanted to, they ordered him to, but he was adamant in seeing the charter through.”

“And what did he say about me?” I asked.

Ben continued to roll the stones around in his hands, glaring at me. “That you saved a couple hundred lives,” he said finally. “That when he had failed, you stood up under a hail of gunfire and leveled the whole damn hillside.”

Hm. I owed Dorne a drink. That was somewhat true, but then, thinking of Tiffany’s lifeless body
, I didn’t really feel like the man Dorne had described. Maybe I had helped, but it had been seconds too late.

One life too late.

“You want some advice?” Ben asked.

“That’s what godfathers are for, aren’t they?” I asked. “Advice? Support? Things like that.”

“And godsons are supposed to be respectful,” he replied. “Not arrogant little pissants.”

“I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

“What happened in there?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “It will all be in Dorne’s report, but he didn’t see the edge. The cliffs were gone in the Walter Cloud, had disappeared. The whole world destabilized and as soon as it did it became raw Aether, with hundreds of minds to feed and mold it…I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He nodded. Then he took out his flask, an ancient silver things, and took a swig. A long, draining swig. Then he threw it to me. I took a sip. A small sip. Barely wet my tongue, in fact. It was Dublin Lightning. They distilled it from a whole mess of things, some from our world, some from a couple of local clouds in Ireland. It kicked like a mule and burned like wildfire.

“Your dad gave me that when I joined the Guild,” he said, his nostrils flaring a bit. “It’s yours now. “My advice? You go and chase that damn thing down, find out whatever is causing it and you stop it. Both Dorne and Norwood apprenticed for me. I don’t like losing my Wizards. You find whatever, whoever, is responsible for that girl’s death and you give them the
nine hells.”

“And the
Guildmasters?” I asked. “They won’t like that you told me to do this.”

“They did their posturing. That’s all they needed to do. As for me, I gave my warning. You should step away from this, but sometimes you do what you need to.”

“Will do,” I said. It was nice getting some support from Ben for once.

“Now, what do you know about this warehouse fire the other night?” he asked.

Hm. I help up the flask. “Got any more Lightning?”

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

“What do you mean
, we’re stopping?” I asked.

We were huddled into Lambros’ tent. Her hair was tangled and dark circles had formed under her eyes. James was hunched in his chair, hands crossed, glaring at the room. Dorne was, for once, standing next to me.

I wasn’t about to let this stand.  “What do you mean we’re stopping?” I repeated.

James sighed. “Virgil, half the men didn’t show up today. A dozen had the good sense to at least go back to HQ. They turned in their bonus, but at least they’re sticking with the company. The rest…I don’t even know where they are.”

“We were sabotaged once,” I said. “Could be someone rounding up our guys, trying to goad us into this very decision.”

“You think whoever hired Steven and the rest are still working against us
?” Lambros asked.

“
I don’t know that he
was
working against us,” I said. “At least not knowingly. When I helped him throw up a temporary partition, I could see the effect of something working on his mind. Something had tampered with it.”

“Who could
’ve done something like that?” James asked. He had relaxed, the worry lines on his face receding.

“There are any number of magics that could have done such a thing,” Dorne said. “Any type of human mage, telepaths and psionics in particular, a whole slew of outsider influences, the Fay. Either way, I don’t stand for bullying.”

I snorted.

Lambros cut in. “This has nothing to do with the men. Maybe yesterday, but not today.”

“And how do you know?” I asked.

She pulled out a file from her makeshift desk in response. “Damnation…” I muttered to myself. Of course there was a file.

She opened the file and started sorting papers into a pile. “Yesterday morning there were twenty seven expeditions of any note being led. I have a whole binder of those that never stood a chance and just didn’t know it, but I’ll focus on these.” She flipped through several pages, removed them from the pile, and threw them on the ground. “Eleven are gone now. Only a few of their members made it out of the Walter Cloud.” She looked at Dorne. “One was being led by a Wizard, who’s fine by the way, the rest had various forms of Sorcerers attached, funded by a number of different parties.” She flipped through more pages, removing them as well and dumping them next to the others. “Nine more were salvageable but disbanded, either for loss of funding or personnel.” She pulled a few more form the pile, which was now down to a sliver. “Three other groups made it out and will be continuing, though in various capacities.” She moved the pile forward. The remaining five never made it to the Arcus in the first place and it could go either way on what they decide.”

She met my eyes again. “Seventy
-five percent of our competition just backed out because it’s no longer profitable. Mr. Aberland has reached the same conclusion and I agree.”

“I want to talk to him,” I said.

She sighed. “Mr. McDane, I’m afraid-”

I tapped Dorne on the arm. “Come with me.”

“Not profitable,” I mumbled to myself, making my way to the communications tent. “I’ll show him not profitable.”

I burst into the tent, scaring the poor radio operator silly. Dorne, who much to his credit, had followed me, asked, “What are you doing?”

“Watch the door,” I said.

“What are you doing?” he repeated, grabbing my arm.

“You want to see this through, right?”

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded.

“Then guard the door!” I said. Then to the operator, “Dial up Aberland.”

“What?” he asked. “I’m not doing that!”

I drew my pistol from its shoulder holster and grabbed the guy by his collar, dragging him closer to my face. I widened one eye while making the other one twitch. It was an art really, making yourself look that crazy. “What’d they tell you about me? You want to deal with that by yourself?”

His eyes widened.
He sat down in front of the radio, fiddling with a dozen different dials, flipping switches as he went. The collection of crystals atop the device, the only method found that could push a signal through the magic that so permeated the air, began to glow and hum.

Five minutes later I had Cyrus Aberland on the phone.

I could hear James arguing with Dorne, who wasn’t letting him in. We made odd bedfellows, me and the Wizard, but I’d take what I could get at this point.

“What can I do for you, Mr. McDane?” I heard on the other end of the phone. That same cultured tone, same odd accent.

“Are you ordering this expedition to an end?”

There was a pause. “I am.
”

I gritted my teeth. “I’m not one to tell a man how to spend his money, but I have to raise my objection.”

The earth beneath my feet rumbled. The shouting outside the tent quieted. I tried my best to ignore it.

“If you are concerned about your pay,
Mr. McDane, do not bother. I am a man of my word. Dr. Lambros has the full authority to write a check this very moment.”

I closed my eyes. I could call this quits and it would be done. In ten minutes I could have a small fortune, enough to do whatever I wished. I could retire, get some menial job to pay the bills and have the rest to live a decent life
. I could start my own business, attend any university that would have me. I had the background to pursue any number of degrees, if I could convince them to enroll me. I could teach again. Live my life.

Rot.

I thought back to Sarah’s prophecy. To not take this path was to let anything I had, any potential I still retained, dwindle and die. I could retire, and live out a life of labor unfulfilled. I could go back to teaching, subjects and disciplines that were pale copies of the things I loved. I could rent an office, sign legitimate charters, but I’d still be the man who burned Nidia.

I thought of Tiffany, who had told me to put my past behind me, to move forward. Who had told me my real curse was in letting one bad moment fester in my mind.

“No,” I said finally, my voice rough.

“Explain,” Aberland said.

“What?”

“Explain to me why this is worth my time and money,” he replied. “Convince me.”

I thought about that for a moment. There were a number of reasons, but they felt hollow. The tent flap fluttered open in the wind. I could just make out the hill where the Walter Cloud had been.

“Today a world died,” I said, eyeing the naked earth where once the mist had billowed and roiled, for the first time in the memory of man laid bare to the sight of sky and sun. “And we don’t know why. Or how. A whole universe, a whole dimension, was rendered and processed like a pig in a slaughterhouse. Every day a new wonder goes extinct, an animal, a plant, magics, disciplines, peoples, histories. F
or the first time I know of, a cloud has disappeared.

“The Walter Cloud was boring, unexceptional. But there were things there that
could be found nowhere else in the world. All the things you talked about in that bar, the possibilities, they all still stand. But this thing is dangerous, a lightning bolt that could strike any moment. What will it burn down next? What possibilities will be rendered mute when it strikes another world? What curiosities will remain unfulfilled? If we can do something, we have to.”

There was silence on the other line.

I walked into Lambros’ tent and slapped a sheet of paper down on her desk. “Trip’s back on,” I said, spinning the sheet so that it faced her.

“Where the hell is Gwaumbala?” James asked.

“Africa,” Lambros said, pointing to a large map in the conference room. “It is a small country right on the fringe of the Congo jungle.”

“It’s hardly a country at all,” I said. “From what I heard anyway.”

“I’m not too keen on Africa,” James said. “Why are we even doing this?
It didn’t work that well the first time.”

“The Arcus withdrew too soon,” Arne said. “I was unable to acquire the data needed to track its path. More data is required if I am to eliminate certain variables.”

L:ambros continued. “And it didn’t land in the Aether this time. We’re not really certain where it did, but there are no clouds in that part of the Congo.”

“No known clouds,” I corrected.

“You think it landed in the Aether again?” she asked.

“Not necessarily
. It’s just something I want to be prepared for. If that’s what its purpose is, I don’t want to be stuck in a dissolving world again.”

Dorne nodded. “Full partitions for anyone that will be going in if it comes to that. And we are on guard at all times. This was supposed to be the safest part of the expedition, and look how it ended. How many men do we have left?”

“I have already discussed that with Mr. Deaton,” Lambros said. “We will have replacements by the end of the day. They will depart for Africa separate from us and will prep our vessel once we have ascertained the heading we need. We will leave for the air dock within the hour.”

“
Air dock?” I said. “Whatever happened to a good old fashioned boat?”

“We don’t want to lose the advantage here,” she replied. “We will leave by air, get on African soil before most can even leave the States.”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. It wasn’t that I had anything against air docks or planes or flying in general. My concern was telling gravity to take a break and expecting it to look the other way while we one-upped it. It was an invitation for disaster. And too much was developing in the fields of...well, everything, for me to be entirely comfortable with the technology.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed machinery and technology and all the things that had come about in the past few years since the war. But there was a line and it was right
between my ass and the ground.

“Are you a nervous flyer, Virgil?” Sam asked
with a smile.

“I
am not a nervous flyer,” I said. “I am a nervous faller.”

“Come now, Virgil,” he laughed. “That is so old world of you. I would think you to be a man of progress and delighted by such a feat as air travel.”

“The world is moving too fast for our ability to handle it,” I replied. “There are things I know about Everburn that would make you cringe.”

“Wo
uld you rather us go by boat?” he asked.

“What's wrong with boats?”

“I cannot swim,” he replied simply.

“But you can fly?” I shot back.

“Gentlemen!” Lambros interrupted. Then with a scathing look at me, “…And Virgil. Enough. That is the plan. Arne just needs the data. This is the best way to get it before anyone else figures out their own solution.”