Gloom Rising (The Book Wielder Saga 1) (25 page)

She quietly picked herself up onto the docks and crept along, using her magic to dry her fabric and stuffing as she dodged two patrolling troopers. Two of her needle maidens got behind them and quickly stabbed them in the face with razor sharp needles. They dumped them into the water and moved on.

The saboteurs made their way to the gun batteries and started planting charges. Those from Gloom city made silent kills or found places to hide, as Mortissa and her girls made their way to the heart of the Isle. They passed by the immense ruins of an old amphitheatre she had once known which still hummed with ancient power, and ducked, dodged, and distracted their way to the foot of the glowing glass tower.

Gravity was not a problem to Mortissa and her maidens, and they quickly and casually crawled up the side of the tower. Her maidens delicately scratched holes in the windows with their nails and slipped inside the buildings, each of them taking a random floor to themselves. She carried on crawling up the glass on all fours, making her way up to the top floor where she hoped her target would be.

From up on high, she could see that the saboteurs had made their way inland. They planted explosives on vehicles, buildings, strange triangular shaped metal things, and whatever else they felt like. The others killed ruthlessly and indiscriminately while maintaining their stealth, as they knew she would punish them if they messed up.

      
When she got to the top floor she peered inside the window. A man was sitting at a desk facing away from her. He was dressed in a smart suit and tapping away at some sort of technology built into the desk. A glowing war hammer was leaning up against the desk beside him. She could see a fine suit of armour at the far side of the room amongst some other pointless decorations. He would wish he’d been wearing it after she’d finished with him.

With great care, she scored across the glass with one of her nails. She never took her eyes off the man to see if he had heard, and once she had made a circle big enough to squeeze through, she pulled it out and tossed it below. With great dexterity, she manoeuvred through the gap and landed silently on her feet a few metres away from the man. Selecting a deviously long and sharp needle from her outfit she crept towards him, ready to strike. Mortissa launched herself at the man, poised ready to stab him in the head.

In a flash of movement the Autocrat picked up his hammer, stood up, and swung it at his assailant as she was in mid-air. The hammer connected perfectly with her face, and the magic contained with the family heirloom, the magic he’d never even known about, detonated in a flash of white light.

Mortissa screeched an unholy sound, so loud that it cracked the windows and all the glass objects in the room as her face blew apart. Bits of the mask she’d pieced together over countless years blew away in a cloud of dead flesh and old dry blood. Her target charged towards her with the hammer raised. She snarled with her real black and blue exposed muscle demon face and quickly regained her composure, for she sensed others outside the room coming to his rescue.

The man was almost on her as she hurled pins and needles at him with rapid hand movements. He carried on charging as they hammered into his flesh, blood seeping through all over his suit, but then she aimed the pins towards his face. He yelped as they penetrated his cheeks and eyes. The man dropped his hammer and tried pulling them out as quickly as he could.

A smile appeared on Mortissa’s Demon face, knowing that she had already won. She leapt onto him and stabbed him over and over with a pair of scissors from her cloak. All that was left of her target’s once handsome face was a mash of gore and blood.

The doors to the room opened and the dead man’s guards rushed in, rifles pointing towards her. They hesitated for a moment as they took in the unholy sight in front of them, and that was their last mistake.

Mortissa channelled her rage, which was overflowing from the loss of her precious face, and channelled a spell onto the floor as she threw herself out of the window, and then detonated a blast of witchfire outwards and upwards. She fell backwards with a cloud of glass splinters and watched as the top of the tower exploded in a bright green burst of fiery light.

She landed on her feet gracefully and pulled her hood up, trying to hide as much of her face as possible. The Isle in front of her erupted into chaos as the Pollutia saboteurs detonated their charges, and the citizens of the Gloom revealed themselves to the frightened and confused Isle dwellers as they killed their way back to the ships. Mortissa’s maidens leapt out of the glass tower and joined her as they strolled casually through the chaos.

The Ironclads opened fire with their cackling green energy guns, wreaking havoc at random, and the Galleons let rip with their broadside cannons adding to the devastation. The shore defences facing them were disintegrated under small mushroom clouds, the battleships in the harbour were nothing but sinking scrap metal, and the Inquisition airships were completely devastated, spouting a mix of blue plasma and green witchfire.

The Inquisition had begun fighting back. Plasma rifles and pistols spewed blue molten energy at the puppets which engulfed them and left nothing but ash, but the Gloom forces still had the element of surprise on their side and retaliated just as hard. Kelpbeard and his pirates pillaged, burnt, and slashed away at their foes as the other Alt’s ran for the water.

It wasn’t long before the Alts were back on their ships and sailing towards the point where Winston would open the portal home for them.

- - -

Winston had watched the whole thing from the small portal he’d made aboard the deck of the Enslaver. He had been filled with nervous anticipation throughout the Alt’s approach to the Isle. His heart had been pumping so hard that Veronica had used her magic to calm it, but he still had to suffer the feeling of butterflies in his tummy. But when he saw the top of the Central Tower go up in a blinding surge of witchfire, he was instantly at peace. They had done what they came here for, and their way of life was now secure. The following explosions and distant chaos across the Isle had made him smile. His plan had gone well, and the Inquisition wouldn’t be recovering in a hurry – if at all.

The four ships had once again been cloaked by Mortissa and were approaching the point where they had entered into the real world. Winston reopened the big portal to allow them back into the Gloom. They cheered and celebrated aboard all of the vessels. Winston closed the portals and shouted his ecstatic thanks to all of the Alts.

“That wasn’t half bad,” the Commodore said to him as they began sailing back to Hellion Harbour. “I would like to do business with you in the future.”

“Thanks,” Winston replied. “We don’t have much of a presence in Tropica... our version of the Colonies, but I’m sure we will do soon.”

“Well, in the meantime if you wouldn’t mind bringing some of that sweet stuff everybody’s raving about these days to the fatso or tech-junky, get them to ship it to me and I’ll make it more than worth your while with whatever you need from my part of the world,” the Commodore said kindly.

“I will do. Thank you again, Commodore,” Winston said, shaking his hand.

Aside from wave generating tendrils, the journey back to Hellion Harbour went smoothly. The atmosphere was joyous, full of laughter and singing – although a dark cloud seemed to loom over the ship that Mortissa was on.

The Mayor was waiting for them when they arrived. Winston went to tell him the good news, but he seemed uncharacteristically sullen.

“He wants to meet you tomorrow,” the Mayor said gloomily.

“Who wants to meet me tomorrow?” Winston asked baffled.

“The Archmage above,” he replied.

Chapter 9:

Archmage Revealed

Back in the real world, Lucius was most pleased with Winston and the Alt’s attack on the Isle. Nothing had been linked back to them and the Inquisition was in ruins. They had partied at a nightclub the Shadow Circle now owned called Club Rouge, but Winston’s mind had been elsewhere all night. He had sat on a table in the slightly quieter VIP lounge with Lewis and Veronica and discussed what the Mayor had said to him.

“So he wants to meet us both?” Lewis had asked.

“Apparently – at least that’s what the Mayor told me,” Winston replied. “He said it was nothing to worry about but he really wasn’t himself and he told us to come alone.”

“Well, I think we should check it out,” Lewis said courageously. “How bad can it be?”

“Firstly, you just jinxed the hell out of it,” Veronica said sternly, “and secondly, neither of you have any idea of what you’re actually walking into.”

“But what if this is what you prophesied?” Lewis retorted.

“I think it is,” Veronica said sharply, “and that’s what worries me. What if I’ve predicted something bad and this is our chance to stop it?”

“What if you’ve predicted something good and this is our chance to embrace it?” Lewis said in a weird tone.

“Stop it you two!” Winston snapped, and finally made up his mind. “We’ll go but we’ll be extra careful. We can’t carry on as we were without getting this Archmage business over and done with.”

Lewis smirked and Veronica frowned, and with that Winston said his goodbyes and went home to his room to bed. He had a restless sleep filled with dreams of masks and stars.

When he got up in the morning he made himself a hot cup of coffee, cooked up some fried eggs and bacon on toast, and sat down on his sofa to enjoy them. He flicked on the television and the news was playing on all stations; the death of the Autocrat and the attack on the Orphan Isle was being reported on.

“...the Councillors are yet to come to a conclusion on who will be the next Autocrat,” a female voice had said whilst camera images of burnt out buildings and smoking wrecks played on the television. “Just a moment... we are getting this message from Inquisitor General Alice Eve, Edgar II’s appointed leader of the Inquisition, and potentially the new Autocrat.”

The attractive yet stern dark-skinned woman that Winston had once seen outside of the Capital’s World GOVT building popped up on the screen in front of a white, gold, and black Inquisition banner. “...we will never forget what has transpired here on Orphan Isle, nor will we forgive. The perpetrators of this heinous attack on good Goddess fearing citizens and Inquisitors alike will be brought to swift and unmerciful justice.” Alice glared into the camera. “I know you’re out there, and I know
what
you are, and I will not rest until you are burning in holy fire...”

Winston switched off the television and threw the remote on his sofa. “Yeah... good luck with that, bitch.”

His phone chimed with a message from Lucius asking him to meet him in his room. He had a quick wash, got suited up, and walked to the Autocrat’s suite.

The bodyguards allowed him entrance and Winston walked inside to find Lucius standing by the window of his study.

He turned to Winston, smiled, and handed him a piece of paper. “Take a look.”

Winston looked at the paper, which resembled an old piece of parchment with elegant light blue writing. He skimmed down through the fancy swirly font. In short,
it was a Summons from the Trinity. “What are you going to do?”

“This.” Lucius took the paper, pulled out a lighter, and watched it burn slowly until it reached his fingertips. He let the last scrap drop to the floor as it turned to ash on the way down.

The morning wasn’t off to a great start. “I’m sorry, Lucius. I should’ve realised that the Trinity would’ve just blamed us, evidence or not.”

Lucius waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it, it was going to happen sooner or later with us expanding at the rate that we are. I brought you in here to warn you about them. As my primary Book Wielder they’ll try to come after you as much as they will for me. Just look after yourself.”

“Thanks, I will.” Winston didn’t tell him about this Archmage character.

Lewis was waiting for him outside of his room. “You ready, man?”

“You’re a bit eager, aren’t you?” Winston was hoping to see Veronica before he left.

“I just want to get this over and done with. The suspense is killing me.”

“It might be a Demon killing you if we do this,” Winston said dryly.

“Come on, it’s us two!” Lewis said cheerfully. “We’re always alright. Let’s face it – we’ve got a guardian angel or something watching over us.”

“I suppose we do have quite good luck,” Winston grumbled.

“
Quite good?
You went from being nobody to the unofficial number two of a Supernatural gang in no-time, and I escaped the old folk’s home in the Catacombs and got very rich because my best friend can open portals.”

Winston chuckled. “Okay, okay, we are
very lucky
. But this still worries me.”

“You’re a superstar to the Alts, man. They wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“Hmm... true. Let’s get this over with then.”

They made their way into Winston’s room, stocked up on sweet food, bottled water and weaponry, and then he opened a portal into the now familiar Gloom equivalent of the Hotel Noir.

The Mayor was waiting at the front desk with Lanky. “Winston my boy, you came.” He sounded sad again. “And Louise, good to see you again.”

      
“It’s Lewis, LEWIS!” Lewis said angrily. “Louise isn’t even a boy’s name.”

The Mayor shrugged. “If you say so Larry, if you say so. Now we must be off, it’s waiting.”

Without waiting for a reply the Mayor went outside, so Lewis and Winston followed. The Gloom outside was quieter than normal. There was less witchlight coming from the windows of the buildings around them, and the whole place had a daunting feel to it. It felt like they had gone back in time to before Winston had found the quill.

The Mayor disappeared around a corner and the two Book Wielders went to follow. There was an unpleasant chill in the air, and the silence somehow seemed louder there than anywhere else.

The Book Wielders gasped in shock as they turned the bend to catch up with the Mayor. Two huge dragons with black and ash grey scales, glowing red eyes, and enormous folded dark grey wings were waiting on all fours in the middle of the road. They had brown leather saddles on their backs with handles to hold onto and rope ladders either side to help mount them. The Mayor was talking to them and the dragons were nodding along.