The Relic Guild (50 page)

‘Once released, the spider will not stop until its task is complete,’ Hamir told them. ‘It will allow you no time for respite, or to catch up should you fall behind. If you want my advice, it will be easier for you to follow underground.

‘Now, are you ready?’

No one replied, which Hamir took as affirmation.

‘Macy, please stand outside. Ensure no one strays past the door.’

She stepped out of the warehouse and disappeared from view.

Hamir drew a breath and barked a single, alien word at the spider.

Instantly, the purple ghost became a flurry of motion. Tendril legs rose and fell on the floor with the scrapes and chimes of metal on stone. Its cloud-like body turned towards the door. Without pause it sprinted forwards, out into the open. It headed straight across the street, and climbed up the wall of the opposite warehouse. Splinters of stone fell to the ground where the pointed tips of its legs dug into the brickwork.

In but a moment, the automaton spider had climbed the wall and disappeared over the warehouse roof, fast and eager to hunt down a Genii.

Hamir turned to Samuel and Bryant.

‘Good luck, gentlemen. I hope you survive.’

Marney awoke to sunshine spilling in through the window. It bathed her face with golden warmth, dragged her up from the depths of dreams, and lit the darkness behind her eyelids with an orangey-red glow. With a sigh she reached out a hand, searching for a familiar body lying beside her; but her fingers only closed around a cold and empty space. She opened her eyes. The residue of Van Bam’s emotions lingered in the bed, and Marney could still feel the touch of his lips upon her forehead: a farewell kiss to his sleeping lover.

Alone, she sat up. In the light of day, the rundown apartment above the bakery did not seem half as romantic as it had the previous night. Van Bam had most likely left the Labyrinth already, and Marney didn’t know when she would see him again. She was glad he hadn’t woken her. She didn’t want to say goodbye face-to-face.

With weary acceptance she rose from bed, washed and dressed herself, eager to be away from the love nest that now seemed so dreary and soulless. No one paid much attention to her when she stopped to buy a muffin from the busy bakery below the apartment. With her breakfast in hand, she slipped out onto the street.

She decided to walk for a while before taking a tram to the Nightshade. It was too early for anyone to wonder where she had got to, and she was in no hurry to discover what new surprises the day would bring. Besides, the crisp morning air would help to lighten her melancholy. Blocking the swirl of emotions radiating from the denizens who flowed along the pavement with and against her, Marney ate her breakfast. The muffin was still warm from the oven, and the preserve inside was dark and sweet.

Strangely, as she walked and ate, her thoughts decided to turn back to her university days. Amongst the flowering memories, she was surprised to find the face of a young man waiting for her; a young man called Karlin.

Marney smiled sadly at the memory.

Karlin had been her first boyfriend. A sensitive soul, almost pretty, with his brooding features and long black hair, he had been conducting his final semester in music studies when he and Marney got together. He was a talented guitarist, a poet, a performer, and considered one of the cooler people among his peers at university. Marney could hardly believe it when she managed to catch his eye.

Karlin fell head over heels for her, adored her, and Marney lapped up his attentions. She loved the fact he was such a good musician; loved the songs he wrote for her, the way he looked when he sang them to her. Marney loved that her boyfriend played in bands; she loved following him to gig after gig, watching him up on stage in rough and seedy taverns, knowing the other girls in the audience didn’t stand a chance with him. She loved that Karlin only had eyes for her as he performed. But Marney had never loved Karlin himself.

She supposed it was his presence that she found most attractive; his natural ability to command the attention of any audience. Karlin’s aura took the spotlight away from Marney. She was happy and secure hiding in his shadow. Not that she was hiding from herself; she understood what she was – that being a magicker, an empath, was a dangerous thing to be in Labrys Town. Being around Karlin seemed to make it less dangerous, somehow. Maybe she manipulated his feelings for her without even realising it herself. Maybe she used him as a shield.

Marney had known all along it wouldn’t last. Karlin often spoke of the future, of his dreams of playing the biggest stages along Green Glass Row. He always included Marney when he spoke of these things, as if they would be together forever, as if she would always be there to help him through the lows and celebrate the highs.

Marney always knew that one day she would have to leave him, and that thought haunted her every time she watched Karlin on stage, every time she pretended she was part of his long-term plans. She dreaded the moment when she would burst his bubble; the moment where an empath would looked into the sensitive eyes of a creative soul, and feel every break of Karlin’s heart.

Fortunately for Marney, that moment had been spared her.

Marney had been roused from bed one night by a voice in her head. While Karlin slept beside her, the voice called Marney from her dormitory, down into the communal gardens outside; and there, a kindly old man named Denton waited for her.

It had been a strange moment, dreamlike and quick, barely long enough to leave a mark on Marney’s memory. Quite literally, Denton had taken her by the hand, led her away from the life she knew, and propelled her into the shady world of the Relic Guild. Karlin never knew what had happened to her. Marney hoped he had found a new muse.

As she walked through the fresh morning, lost in her thoughts of the past, life suddenly seemed too complicated. She had found
real
love
with Van Bam, and now he had headed off into the war. She would find no peace and security until he returned.

Was there even a guarantee he
would
return?

With this question burning unanswered in her heart, Marney stopped walking abruptly. She realised that she didn’t know where she was.

She had been following the main street, intending to keep on it until she felt ready to catch a tram back to the Nightshade. But somewhere she had turned off into a dingy side lane. The disused buildings rose high on either side of her, tall enough to block the sun and plunge the desolation into shadows.

Why would she blindly turn into an area she didn’t know? Denton had taught her to be wise to her environment, and all the bad things in the eastern district lurked in its side lanes.

Marney turned, planning to retrace her steps. But why did doing that suddenly seem like such a bad idea? She turned again, studying the way ahead. A curious feeling came over her; somehow she just
knew
that at the other end of this neglected lane, the answer to the most intriguing mystery awaited her.

Why would she think that?

Alert, Marney reached out with her empathic senses, searching for the emotions of anyone who might be in the vicinity. But she felt no danger, no mugger – or worse – watching her from the shadows. All she sensed was a light presence stroking her thoughts with threads of soft silk, egging her on, willing her to continue forward.

Marney smiled wryly; the presence reminded her of a long time ago, when a voice had called her from sleep and changed her world forever.

Emoting a cloak of concealment around herself, Marney walked to the end of the lane. There, she saw the Resident’s personal tram waiting.

Its sleek and black body seemed to absorb the sunshine; the dull silver square on its side was like a metal eye staring back at her.

Hidden from the perceptions of others, Marney stepped from the lane and approached the tram. She laid a hand on the silver square, the door slid open, and she stepped inside.

‘You know, you could’ve just shouted for me,’ Marney said to Denton as she closed the door behind her.

Sitting on the bench seat, Denton nodded, said nothing, just crushed his hat in his hands.

Marney’s smile faltered. A well-filled rucksack sat on the floor between her mentor’s feet. With a frown, she took the bench seat opposite him.

‘Denton, are you going somewhere?’ she asked.

‘Yes,
we
are,’ he replied.

The tram moved off, and Marney placed her hands against the unpadded bench on either side of her, feeling the vibrations of wheels trundling along metal tracks. Denton’s emotions were closed to her, and that was never a good sign.

‘What’s going on?’ she said.

He met her eyes, hesitated, and then said, ‘Gideon has been in contact with Lady Amilee.’

Marney nodded. ‘Yes, Van Bam told me—’

‘No, Marney – this has nothing to do with Ambassador Ebril. We have been given orders concerning the mysterious House where Fabian Moor was hiding.’

‘The Icicle Forest?’ Marney sat forward. ‘It’s been found?’

Denton shook his head. ‘The Thaumaturgists have no record of it existing. They are worried, to put it mildly. They believe the Icicle Forest is a secret Genii stronghold hiding within the Nothing of Far and Deep …’

He fell silent, lost to his thoughts.

Marney’s mouth was suddenly dry. ‘What is it, Denton?’

‘Lady Amilee,’ he said. ‘She claims the doorway to the Icicle Forest must be buried so deep in the Great Labyrinth that not even she can see it. If anyone stands any chance of finding that doorway, then we must know the House Symbol. But …’

‘But according to Llewellyn, the only two people who knew that symbol were Ursa and Carrick,’ Marney said slowly. ‘And they’re dead.’

‘Yes. Yes they are.’

Marney shrugged. ‘Then we’ll get it from Fabian Moor.
If
we can catch him, right?’

‘Perhaps. But we’re not going to wait for Moor’

‘What are you telling me, Denton?’ She dampened the fear crawling up inside her. ‘You said we have orders.’

He averted his eyes. ‘Lady Amilee has given you and me a mission, but …’ He made a disgruntled noise. ‘Forgive me, Marney, but I don’t believe you’re ready for this.’

‘Denton …’ Marney wasn’t sure what to say next.

Concern and uncertainty were etched deep into Denton’s face.

Marney decided to project her own emotions to him, her fear, her confusion, how intrigued she was about what it was he did not believe she was ready for; but most of all, she projected her complete, unwavering trust in her mentor.

Denton met her eyes and gave a wan smile. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘I have something for you.’

He dipped into the rucksack between his feet and pulled out what looked to be a leather girdle. He passed it to Marney, and she saw that it was a baldric holding two lines of six, slender throwing daggers.

‘I sometimes forget how much you’ve learned, how much you’ve grown,’ Denton said as she stared down at the knives. ‘You really don’t need protecting anymore.’

‘Then stop stalling,’ Marney said. She held the baldric up. ‘Where in the Timewatcher’s name are we going, Denton?’

Denton sighed. ‘Marney, have you ever heard of the Library of Glass and Mirrors?’

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Everybody has.’

The Library of Glass and Mirrors was an Aelfirian legend, a fabled House that recorded history. But not just any history; the legends said it contained the historical accounts of every race and culture that had ever existed, did exist, or
would
exist. All stored in the Library of Glass and Mirrors. The past, the present, and the future –
everything
was known to its librarians.

Marney scoffed. ‘It’s a myth, Denton.’

‘That’s what I thought until today,’ he said. He held up a hand to stave off Marney’s incredulity. ‘The Thaumaturgists consider it a dangerous place, and rightly so. They fear it, and have vowed to never use it themselves, but they have always known the Library of Glass and Mirrors to be real. And they know how to reach it, Marney.

‘If any record of the Icicle Forest exists,’ he continued, ‘then it will be stored at the Library. But the knowledge kept there makes it far too dangerous a House to have a doorway out in the Great Labyrinth, Marney. If we are to reach it—’

‘Reach it?’ Marney snapped. ‘Denton, wait a minute—’

‘Lady Amilee has given me a map,’ he said sternly. ‘It will lead us to the Library, but we must travel through various Houses first. The journey will take us into … into …’

‘Where, Denton?’ Marney demanded. She gripped the baldric tightly. ‘Take us into where?’

Denton sat back and rubbed his face.

‘I’m so sorry, Marney. You and I are going to war.’

Chapter Twenty

Lost Pathways

Fabian Moor stood within the confines of his silver cube. Mo Asajad and Viktor Gadreel flanked him. Together they faced a wall, which had cleared to shimmering air, revealing a scene of pandemonium.

A land lay beyond the cube, a land of sharp rock and scorched trees, buffeted by vicious winds. In the sky, clouds the colour of bruised flesh roiled like poison, spitting lightning at a barren terrain that teemed with corrupted
things
:
things
that roamed across the land, near and far, big and small, too many to count, each and every one of them a monster. Twisted bodies with too many limbs; hunched abominations with gaping maws filled with too many teeth; scabrous hulks with wicked thorns for hands. Of varying shapes and disfigurements, these perverted creatures stalked a broken landscape, fighting and existing without reason or conscience.

Despite the chaos and violence that reigned within their view, not one sound reached the ears of the Genii. They observed while surrounded by dead and eerie silence.

Viktor Gadreel made a low, grumbling sound. ‘
This
is what became of our Aelfirian armies?’ he asked.

‘Along with their realms, yes,’ Moor replied. ‘Disturbing, isn’t it?’

Great beasts with elongated heads flew through the poisonous sky, gliding gracefully on leathery wings. They dodged the spears of lightning, and dived to attack shambling giants who swung laboriously at them with boulder-like fists on the end of tree-sized arms. Smaller creatures scurried around the feet of the giants; some fought among themselves, others searched for food, or so it seemed. In the distance, a hive of arachnoids exploded into life with sabre-legged defenders who met the attack of spiny, slug-like monstrosities.

Gadreel shook his head in wonder. ‘And you say it was the Timewatcher who created this place?’

‘The Retrospective, She called it,’ Mo Asajad answered. Even she, in the face of this brutal scene, had lost her spiky argumentativeness. ‘The corrosion of dead time. It serves as a reminder of what it means to be the Timewatcher’s enemy.’

Gadreel scoffed. ‘To think, She dared to call
us
evil.’

‘Yes, the irony runs deep,’ Moor said.

Gadreel looked at him, his one eye dark and unblinking. Dressed now in the cassock of a priest, the bald Genii was as hulking and powerful-looking as he had always been. It pleased Moor to have the old brute back at his side.

‘It is just as I told you, Viktor—’ He was cut off by a blinding flash.

Out in the cruel wilderness, a lightning bolt struck a giant, tore it apart, reduced it to a shower of bone and meat in which the smaller creatures revelled and fed.

Asajad made a small noise of delight at the spectacle.

‘The Retrospective is an unimaginably huge realm,’ Moor continued. ‘These
wild
demons
, as the humans like to call them, are vast in number. They will serve our purpose well, don’t you think?’

Gadreel remained sceptical. ‘All I see are beasts succumbed to madness, Fabian. Even with our combined thaumaturgy, how can we hope to turn such mindless animals into a trained army?’

‘We can’t,’ Moor replied. ‘But there is one who could.’

Gadreel look at him sharply, angrily. ‘You said he was gone, banished for good.’

‘No, Viktor,’ said Asajad. ‘We said he was missing.’

With a smile, Moor turned from the Retrospective and approached the strange, tree-like creature standing at the centre of the cube. Its snake’s nest of roots twisted and writhed on the silver floor; its tentacular branches held aloft the filthy magicker of the Relic Guild, the empathic human called Marney.

‘They would have us believe that he is unreachable, lost forever,’ Moor said as Gadreel and Asajad came alongside him, ‘that only the Timewatcher knows his true location.’

‘But some secrets aren’t as well kept as
they
believe,’ Asajad said. She stroked Marney’s slack and unconscious face with a delicate hand.

Gadreel folded his meaty arms across his barrel chest. ‘This
human
really knows how to find his prison?’

‘As Fabian said, it is ironic,’ Asajad sighed. ‘The Timewatcher believed in equality, demanded that we treated Aelfir and humans as our peers.’ She traced a finger down the empath’s naked body. ‘And now She will rue the day She ever trusted so lowly a creature as this.’

Gadreel nodded, clearly pleased.

‘So long ago,’ Moor said, ‘we three endured tortures to preserve our essences, to escape the war against the Timewatcher, but history showed that we had died. It was all for this day, my friends.’

He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily, staring at the pale and pitiful magicker hanging before him. ‘Soon, this empath will reveal to us the hidden location of Oldest Place, and the Aelfir will know the true meaning of horror.’

Viktor Gadreel grinned, and Mo Asajad closed her eyes as if listening to the sweetest of music.

Moor turned from the empath and the tree-like monstrosity, and faced the Retrospective once more. The silent images of mindless rage and lustful violence no longer disturbed him; they fuelled his blood with the roar of higher magic.

‘The day has come, my friends,’ he told his fellow Genii. ‘Soon, Lord Spiral will stand beside us once again.’