The Wielder: Sworn Vengeance (The Wielder Series) (6 page)

The vampire council was pensive.  Nervous would be a better word.  They were taking a visitor this evening.  A powerful one.

Maldgorath the collector had requested an audience with them.

To deny one such as him an audience was asking for a true death – or worse.  Maldgorath was one of the
few remaining Garrigin – a soul slaver. Few Garrigin remain because to be a species so feared, also meant to be one so targeted for eradication.  Only the strongest of his kind have survived; Maldgorath was no exception to that rule.

So they waited
, discussing idle business of the community among the members directly present and those via teleconference.  They discuss the death of Grey Lightbringer.  They discuss the attacks on the Protectorate’s member organizations.

The herald enter
s the room and makes the announcement they all anticipate.  “May I present Maldgorath, the traveler, the collector of souls, Garrigin and most feared.”

With that an elegantly dressed human enter
s the room. But nobody here was going to mistake him for human.

“Greetings collected council of the Vampire Legion
s!” he bellows with a smile upon his face and open arms. “I do appreciate you allowing me time to address you.”

His eyes circle the room.
With that gaze was the confidence of a being who knows he could decimate all beings in the room around him. 

That gaze was met by a room of eyes trying to pretend such confidence.

Breaking the silence, Maldgorath readdresses the room. “Good council, I am here to bear opportunity and good tidings for you and your brethren. Events are preparing to unfold which are unprecedented. Events that will rock the core of this pathetic human civilization. Events that will allow your kind to take their more proper role in the food chain.”

Corelius Lactuca, who s
its at the right hand of Kur, Overseer of the council, had to speak up. “What events are these specifically?  The humans outweigh us millions to one, what could be so fortuitous to even the odds?  Will these events darken the sun and allow us to walk with impunity?”

A very non-plus
sed Maldgorath takes Corelius into his gaze. “No, the sun will not darken” is his reply. “But are you not phage? Can you not spread? Are there not willing hosts?”  Maldgorath pauses and regards the whole of the council, present and video-conferenced alike.

“All of you are weapons of infection and infestation
meant merely to weaken those whom our realm wishes to invade, I am here merely to remind you of that and to let you know that the time of opportunity is ready to present itself.”

Corelius t
akes offense to that.   He stands and protests.  “You call us a disease, you call us phage?   We are much more than that.  We are one with these hosts!  We are sentient, thinking beings! Who are you to come here before us and denigrate us? We outnumber you here you arrogant excrement. How dare you!”

That just br
ings a smile to Maldgorath’s face. With that he raises his hand toward Corelius and Maldgorath’s eyes roll back.  Corelius jerks and his face contorts.  Then he falls down upon the table and begins to decompose rapidly.

Maldgorath’s
eyes roll back to normal and his smile fades to a face of seriousness. “Do any of you phages wish to question the nature of your being with me again? Or is there a true flesh and blood Phagorit present that is not just reanimated flesh such as yourselves? Where is your master?”

The room is silent. 

“Good,” and the smile returns to the Collector’s face. “I cannot tell you what to do, but I can remind you of your purpose here. Events will unfold shortly which will provide you opportunity to move forward against the sea of man.”

His gaze follows around the room.

“You may wish to take advantage of that. That is all. Thank you for your time and attention.”

Maldgorath turns to leave, then stops.

“But of course, I would be remiss not to offer any of you true immortality as one of mine. All of you covet and feign immortality.  An errant ray of sunlight, a paladin’s sword, the holy light of the divine - we all know at least one still wields it. That is all it takes to end your illusion of immortality. But, as one of mine, should you be brought down, you are restored immediately.  Do any wish to taste of true immortality?”

“Immortal in service to you, that is, most powerful
Garrigin” is Kur’s careful and respectful reply.

“True, master of this council. 
All good things come with a price”

With that a female stands and says “I will pay that price for true immortality”

There are hushed tones from the collected members as she leaves her seat to approach Maldgorath.  “I give myself most willingly in return for true life immortal.”

Maldgorath smiles, reaches down and puts his hand upon her head.  She shakes for a moment and then her flesh becomes pale grey and her body is as a statue of herself.  Maldgorath looks to the council and says “Behold.  Ragna is reborn.”

With that the air ripples and the vampiress stands as she was.  She beholds the calcified remains of her former self and smiles at Maldgorath.  “How may I serve you master” she asks.

Maldgorath strokes her cheeks and she swoons as if in ec
stasy. “Any others wish to partake of my bounty?

Kur looks around the room at the uncomfortable members of his council. “The pleasure of your approval to yours is well known, but the torture of your scorn is
known as well. Thank you for your most generous offer.”

Maldgorath nods to Kur and turns to leave, taking Ragna’s arm.  They leave the chamber and the building, making
their way to the outdoors where a car awaits.

“How may I serve my new master?” asks Ragna hinting at the pleasures she is willing to offer him.

He regards her dispassionately. “You have already served me well, you ignorant, stupid cow.  I will call for you when I wish to see you, whenever, or if ever that that may be.”

She attempt
s to protest, but before the words can pass her lips she ripples into the nothingness that is the holding of Maldgorath.

Sil pulls
the minivan into the parking lot that is the cover for the Techno-Mage guild in Boston. She parks us on the second floor, turns off the motor and hands the keys back to me.

“Do I get to play
with the boys again?” Sil asks.

“That depends” I respond honestly.
“If they protest about last time, then no.”

During my tenure under Grey Ligh
tbringer’s watch, he had sent me and my crew to be “analyzed” by the Techno’s in Berlin. There was much poking and prodding involved to better understand the nature of a summonling to its master.  Apparently, Sil had taken advantage of that to allow for a little exploration of her own. Or so I was told afterward.  It seems she caused a little disruption in the normal flow of work.

I do know that I won’t be allowed to enter with a full
complement of summonlings.  So one by one I say my “see you laters” and dismiss them to the white – that area where they remain in holding, linked to my soul.  Feeling alone and exposed I make my way to the elevator.

I
nside the elevator, I punch in the code to head down to the hidden area of the Techno Mage Guild. The elevator moves down and a voice advises me to put my hands on the screens that appear when the paneling moves away.  I do.  The elevator moves again, the door opens and I find myself confronted by security forces.

Nothing to do
but smile. So that’s what I do, that and say, “Arthur MacInerny here, hoping to see Edgar.”

I show them my ID and it’s not too long before I am greeted by the melodious voice and pudgy visage of Edgar himself.  Edgar Tin
kerman is a mage of extraordinary strength and knowledge – a contemporary of Grey Lightbringer and from what I understand quite as powerful.  He took a different path at the onset of the technological revolution of the eighties; one that blends the magical and the scientific. The technology he has helped foster allows those with little magical talent, but some, to wield great strength – and those with great talent to bring forth such at less cost of energy.  Grey personally eschewed this technology, but never attacked it as some of the Magerium did.

As I understand
from the things told to me, Edgar feels a great conflict is coming.  He wants mankind to be as ready as it can be.  His pursuit of this technology cost him his place in the Magerium. But he doesn’t care.  In his vision, the world is better saved.  Besides, he’s now heading up his own guild – one of the more powerful at that.

I am greeted by the rotund and handle-bar
mustached man himself.

“Arthur! Arthur! Come here and hug an old friend!” he exclaims, which basically sets security at ease.  After a
bear hug, he regards me quite seriously. “These are sad and serious times Arthur, I am pleased you are here safely with us.  Come, I need to speak with you privately before you summon your entourage.”

I follow him
through the subterranean halls of the Techno-Mage headquarters and we walk to his office.  He directs me to a seat and sits his portly frame on his desk in a most un-stuffy manner in front of me.  “Something’s happening Arthur, I do not know what it is exactly but it is something, don’t you agree?”

I tell him
, "That makes sense."

“So
,” he continues “I need my organization working at its peak.  Your visit to our Berlin facility with Grey taught me a thing or two about what to expect of you and some of your party.”

Damn.  Sil – again.
When we visited the Berlin facility to be studied, I allowed Sil permission to play with the staff as long as no permanent harm was done.  I guess she did. I tested my hypothesis by naming her directly.

“Yes Arthur, we can’t afford those
kind of distractions and I almost lost a very important person in my organization.  Apparently he was a virgin and she, imprinted on him - it’s a thing they can do to a first timer.  You have no idea what it took to keep him from leaving us and going to the chateau to ask her hand in marriage.”  He rolls his eyes at the absurdity of it.

And I have to agree, Sil
isn’t the marrying kind.

“Ok
ay, Arthur, Your succubus is a fine enough old girl, I rather enjoyed my conversations with her.”

I
give him the eye after that comment.

“Not
hing like that,” he clarifies. “Anyway, predators are predators, and most are of little danger when well fed.”  With that he hands me an ornate box.  I open it and there is a large bottle of luminescent blue liquid and a dropper.

“A mage’s energy recovery potion
,” he tells me. “Six time distillation, very powerful. In fact this has a street value of about ten thousand dollars. Of course, we are the primary manufacturers.” he says with a smile and a wink.  “Still, a few drops should meet her dietary requirements for life energy. I expect her to be well fed, happy and leaving my guild members and staff alone.”

I answer with a,
“wow” as this is a generous gift. I nod to Edgar in acknowledgement. “She’ll be no issue,” I tell him.

“Good
!” is the snappy reply. “Please keep in mind that Percy Baumgarter is the very important person I told you of that your succubus imprinted on. He’s a brilliant mathematician, engineer, computer analyst and savant of codes.  Please, please, make her aware that he is off limits now. Also… please have your leprechaun keep that dreadful flask to himself.”

All was said with a smile so I knew I wasn’t being dressed down.

We share a few more pleasantries and some memories of Grey. Edgar shows me to our bank of rooms and leaves me to summon my group after instructing me on how to find the conference room.  So I summon my group.  I direct everyone to their room assignments.  Shey is disappointed that I choose to bunk with Pffiferil. Everyone heads to their rooms but I stop Sil and ask Pffif to leave us, which of course gets a raised eyebrow.

I share Edgar’s input with Sil and hand her the box.  She dips one of her black
, claw like nails in the vial, puts it to her mouth and lightly shudders, all the way down to her tail. “Oh my, this is good stuff,” is her response along with gushings as to how much she likes Edgar and how she will be good.  I ask her to stay away from Percy.  That gets answered with a “who?” I prompt her with a reminder about Percy being a virgin, which prompts an, “Oh yes, one of my baby birds – okay.”

Damn
, she doesn’t even remember his name.

I step out into the hall to find the conference room and
bump into Pffiferil. I let him know of Edgar’s request, which results in a “Begorrah! I hates to be drinkin’ alone.”  That’s followed by a smile, a wink and indications I’m going to be his new drinking buddy. I’m not sure how that’s going to work out, so I just put my hand on his shoulder and tell him, “We’ll see about that.”

With that I head to the conference room where the other refugees wait and the
Protectorate will update us on details.