Sorcerer Rising (A Virgil McDane Novel) (28 page)

The air dock was a bustling hub of activity. Workers milled around aircraft, working on equipment, carrying around supplies, doing dozens of things I had no inkling of.

There were more craft than I could count. Just like cars, new designs were being tested out, though less than ground vehicles.
If a car broke down, you had a bad afternoon. If a plane broke down, you only got a bad couple of minutes.

We pulled up to one of the most wild designs I
’d ever seen. It was sleeker, more fluid in design, almost frail looking. It wasn’t made of steel, but aluminum and plastic. The damn thing didn’t even have props. Strange, egg shaped tubes lined the wings.

I frowned. Our men were loading supplies into the cargo hold. Then, to my sincerest displeasure, Sam got out of the car. This was our plane.
Great.

I sighed and stepped out after him.

Inside, it was built like any other plane I’d had the misfortune to be in, a simple narrow body with a row of seat leading up to the cockpit.

I plopped down in one of the
window seats. If I was going to ride a tin can for two thousand miles at least I would enjoy the view.

I pulled the brim of my hat down over my face and shut my eyes. It had been a long morning.

The rumbling of the plane woke me. The engines must have been starting. It was a slight sensation, barely distinguishable. The few times I had been on a plane was like riding a wagon down a dirt road, and ten times louder.

A terrible whining sound ripped through the air. What in the hell was that?

James sat down next to me.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“Why do people keep asking me that? Hell yes, I’m nervous. I don’t like to fly. I do not like being in a vacuum sealed rocket ship power by condensed water. I hate it!”

“I can understand that,” he said. “But this baby ain’t powered by steam. This thing is powered by gasoline and is the fastest thing in the air. They call it a turbine engine.”

“What in the hell is a turbine?” I asked.

“New type of engine,” he replied. “Like a bomb in a bottle. Let
’s us go faster than anything else in the air.”

That’s what I was talking about. People taking working, tested concepts and changing them around for something different. I found it admirable, man was finding more and more ways of doing things for himself that didn’t involve magic. But I sure as hell didn’t want to be the one testing it out.

Suddenly, I was pressed back into the seat.

I could hear James laughing next to me. I glanced over, and sure enough, he was laughing, an ecstatic grin on his face.

“This is the best part!” he said over the whining of the engines.

G
ravity did a summersault and I felt the aircraft lift into the air. The pressure began to reside and I took a deep breath. James unbuckled and stood up, heading toward the back of the plane.

“I gotta take a leak, McDane
. Catch ya later.”

I stood up and stretched, feeling claustrophobic. The cabin was cramped and there was no chance of my catching any sleep during the flight. I needed to walk around, do something, so I headed for the back of the plane.

The hold was empty except for cargo, but at least there was enough room to get some work done. Gently, I pulled Abigail out of my pocket and placed her on a crate. I dug around in my pockets and summoned up the remaining shells I had.

Of the normal variety
, I had plenty and had taken even more from the supplies the expedition was bringing. I moved them into one pile.

The pickings were slimmer with the spellshot. There were no black. Pick had only had the one when he died. There were a few red shells and one green, like the two I had used in the alleyway. There were several blue and a scattering of other colors. Overall, I had a little over a dozen. Each was a potent spell, but I needed to ration them. I had neither the power or the knowledge to make more, even if Abigail
knew the formulae.

I touched the handle of the gun.

Abby?

Yes, Virgil,
she replied.

Just checking on you,
I said, examining the barrel.
I know the black shell always take a lot out of you and it’s been a while since we talked.
The metal was still transparent to a degree, but it was retaking its shape at least.

Has it?
she asked.
I can never tell. Time…It slips by. All is well with me.
She hesitated.
Has Sebastian returned?

I closed my eyes.
No, girl, I’m sorry. I’m afraid we don’t get over being dead as well as other things.
I’d had this conversation before, but she didn’t seem to grasp it.

Oh,
she said.

I felt
cold run up my hand from the stock, blue filling my vision. I saw the vision of Pick falling, right as he fired his last shot, the black shell that disintegrated half the Widow Queen’s fortress.

I saw Pick, throwing me the gun, yelling for me to take care of her.

I heard in my mind, as I picked her up, screaming, crying.

Rest up then,
I said.
I’m gonna need you again before this is over, I’m sure.

Very well,
she said.
Rest well, Virgil.

I released her grip, rubbing my face. Sometimes talking with her was like a livewire. It brought up all kinds of memories best left undisturbed.

I pulled a bandoleer out of my pocket and loaded all the arcane shells into it, as well as all the normal shells I could fit. I loaded the bandoleer, shells, and gun into my pocket, shaking the weight down until the coat lightened.

“That was an impressive display,” I heard behind me. Dorne was in the doorway, for the first time without his staff. His arms were folded in front of him, his face serious.

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

“In the cloud,” he continued. “That was…that was more than I expected. More than I was told you were capable of. What was it?”

I pulled Abigail back out, making a show of her. She deserved to be shown off every now and then.

“You ever heard of Pick Pickerton?” I asked.

He nodded. “Half of my spells are based on his work. He died in Nidia.”

“Yes he did,” I said with a bitter smile. “And if you have heard of him, you know he was a genius.” Hesitantly, I flipped the gun around and handed it to him handle first. “This was his baby.”

He took the gun, looking it over with admiration. He was reading the runes and I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t curious. He would know what they meant. Suddenly, he frowned. Abigail was making her introduction.

“This is a powerful
enchantment,” he said. “I can’t quite make out…what is this? This is no mere talisman.”

“She is a
homunculus,” I said. I took out one of the arcane shells. “Pick was an alchemist, and a master artificer, though he would laugh if that’s what you called it. He made this, named it Abigail, as an engine.” I held up one of the red shells. “Each shell is a carefully crafted spell.”

“So what you did in the cloud…”

“Pick’s most powerful formulae. Two ounces of Canish silver and a whole mess of other stuff.”

“Two ounces!” h
e said. “Such a fortune for a just a spell!”

“Yeah,” I said. “But it was worth it.” Tiffany’s lifeless eyes flashed in my mind. “I am sorry for what happened in there. Tiffany was…she was good. Good at what she did and a good person.”

“Yes she was,” he said.

We stood in awkward silence until I couldn’t stand it anymore. “S
o where did you fight?”

“Pardon?” He would say pardon.

“I saw your reaction in the cloud,” I said.

“I volunteered after the fall of Carson’s,” he said. “I was first stationed in Africa and then Europe once we beat them back to their border. Did you fight?”

“I volunteered right out of the Tower,” I replied. “Europe only. Made it to Captain, led a squad in the brigade that laid the southwest rune.”

Dorne laughed. It was unnerving. “That is ironic. I was a
Major. We laid the northwest rune.”

I laughed. “It’s a small world after all.”

More awkward silence. He handed Abigail back to me.

“I spoke with Benjamin, after I dropped her off,” he said finally, his face intense. “I don’t know much about Nidia, it’s something that attracts more stories than truths. It doesn’t really matter to me right now either. I’m going to need to trust you a bit more than…than I am comfortable with.”

“Same here,” I said. “Doesn’t change anything.”

“No it doesn’t,” he said, holding out his hand.

I shook it.

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

Twelve hours later
and who knows how many times zones, we were in Gwaumbala, Africa. It was a war torn speck of land, situated right on the border of the Congo. It hadn’t even been a country the last time I was on the continent.

It and all the other makeshift countries in the area were in the midst of a war and sides had shifted dozens of times. There was and always had been much of value in the great
jungle, magical and otherwise.

I braced myself against the heat, pulling my coat off and rolling up my sleeves. I removed a heavy belt, a backpack, the bandoleer, and Abigail from my coat, then shoved it into the backpack. I wrapped the belt and bandoleer around me and threw the backpack and shotgun over my shoulder.

I stepped out of the plane and into the African sun. Oh yeah, that made it better. The small port was busy, mainly with Aberland’s people. There were fewer than in the Walter Cloud, the rest coming along behind us to procure and prep a ship for when we emerged from the jungle.

Sam sidled up to me, mopping his face with a rag. “This African heat, Virgil, I never get used to it.”

“Not a Southerner are you, Sam?” I asked.

“I’ll have you know I was born and raised in Virginia,” he replied, laughing.

“Aw, that’s not the same,” I said. “This isn’t too much different from a good Memphis summer.”

He shrugged. “Whatever. Diana wants you for the meeting.”

I grinned. “I must be moving up in the world.”

He laughed and I made my way toward Lambros. I tried not to attract too much attention, though I must have reeked of magic to the locals. This was the oldest of the old world, more ancient than either Europe or Rome, where magic was at its most dangerous. There were things in these jungles that would make dragons shudder. Mages were set apart, and the people here knew what to look for.

This was where the Guild held a good chunk of its power. The houses here had been incorporated into the Guild long after its formation and they held an iron grip on the people. They’d earned it too, and then some. There were still secrets they refused to share with the other Houses. Sorcery wasn’t simply taboo here, it was illegal and a Sorcerer’s head was worth its weight in gold.

Lambros was standing over a map, laid out over a crate. Arne and Dorne were with her.

She pointed to the map on the crate. “This is where we are, on the outskirts of Gwaumbala, right on the edge of the Congo. Arne?”

The machine continued in his tin can voice. “Doctor Lambros is correct. We are just inside the Congo Jungle. As you most likely know, the Arcus is quite difficult to measure and the Aether wrought havoc with my sensors. This does not seem to be an issue now. I am even now picking up readings, though they are too faint to indicate what direction to follow. I theorize that if we can get close enough for me to identify the radiation it is producing, I will be able to isolate the wavelength required to see the Arcus and guide us in our direction, accounting for its direction as well as atmospheric conditions that might obscure its trail.”

I blocked the sun with my hand, looking for the Arcus. Sure enough, I couldn’t see a thing. I thought I might be able to catch a glimmer, it was one of those things that wasn’t always clear, even when you were looking directly at it.

“What have the reports said?” I asked. “You sure it hasn’t landed in a cloud?”

“Radio reports indicate few are still pursuing the Arcus and none seem to have reached it as of yet. There are three recorded clouds within one hundred miles. The Nytok cloud, the Realm of Whispers, and Nidia. Are my records correct, Virgil?”

I shuddered, ignoring the pinpricks that played across my skin. “Pretty sure you’re right on the other two. I know you’re right about Nidia.” I pushed that aside. “So, just wander the Congo and pray? Hope that we can just go in a straight line toward the beam?”

The robot nodded. “To a degree. I am equipped with enough equipment that navigation should not be an issue.”

James walked up. “And we got enough guides to point us past anything that we shouldn’t go near
. Land’s gone bat shit round here. Locals say they’ve never seen anything like it.”