Magi Saga 1: Epic Calling (6 page)

She placed a couple of the pictures and the pertinent notes inside her cloak to give to Yasmin later. With one more look around the tent she felt sure there would be little else of interest here, so she stepped outside into the glow of the orange sunset and squinted in the light. She could see Nate’s silhouette moving towards the camp, and as he saw Kez emerge from the tent, headed directly towards her, changing direction slightly.

Moving forward awkwardly on the soft sand, Kez stepped closer to Nate who stopped a short distance from her and gazed over the camp.

‘Anything?’ he asked.

‘Something,’ she replied flatly. ‘And you?’

‘The final room is a slaughter house. Something was entombed there and they woke it up somehow. Whatever it was, it killed them all.’

Kez looked at Nate’s dispassionate face, he was utterly unaffected by what he had seen in there. Kez needed to see it too.

‘Show me,’ she said.

The rooms of the tomb were left as they had been since the day the final chamber had been entered. Tools littered the floor here and there next to long dead lamps and lights ready to be taken up and used again. Cables snaked through the rooms to generators outside that had been smashed by something big. They hooked up to lights and air filters in the rooms that made the place more suitable to working, but which now stood silent in the blackness. The occasional table stood in a few of the rooms with the teams finds upon them, brushes and other tools laid next to these finds. Kez scanned over each table looking for the artefact, but to no avail.

In one of the deeper rooms Kez stopped at a table, upon it there were photos of the stone slab. The shots showed where the slab had been found in a hidden hole in the wall, and also showed how it had been removed. Kez looked up at the hole on the wall, open and empty now, and clearly it had been the site of further searching. Kez tensed her lips in frustration, it seemed like the slab had disappeared. Looking round she saw Nate waiting at the entrance to what must have been the final chamber, judging from the powerful stench coming from it.

Standing at the door Kez looked at the carnage within and wrinkled her nose. Something had clearly had a field day in here tearing these people to bits. Some were left where they had fallen, sporting rotting wounds, grey green putrid flesh and drained white skin. Some of them seemed to have been partly eaten, the signs of bite marks visible on the bits that were left.

Kez walked inside and on looking into the rubble of the ruined sarcophagus, saw the remains of Amy herself. She had been split open, ripped from her groin halfway up her body along the front of her torso to where her ribcage began, as if something had been inserted into her, something too big for her body to hold. Her pelvis had been shattered and her womb ripped open, while her rotting ropey insides lay about her. Her guts seemed to writhe and move in the shadows, so Kez peered in for a closer look, curious as to why. Nate managed to get one of the lamps lit at that second, and lifted it for Kez to get a better view, the light spilling over the corpse. Amy’s entrails were crawling with flies and maggots; the burrowing and frantic movement of the tiny translucent grubs made the intestines move and pulsate. Kez pulled her face away from the grisly sight.

Kez looked at Amy for a long moment, looking into those features that were contorted in agony and pain. Kez knew she had probably been alive when she had been ripped open, dying a long slow death compared to some of the others in this room. Amy had been expendable though, which had been the reason she had been given this mission, she would not be missed.

Nate called to Kez, breaking her stream of thought from across the room.

‘I think this might be interesting to Yasmin.’ He said, pointing at the wall and the short sentence written there in blood.

She will pay.

Interesting indeed thought Kez, no doubt written by whatever had been in here, but who was ‘she’? A mystery for the moment at least.

‘Looks like the Artefact Yasmin wanted had been here, I’m guessing it to be the slab of sand stone in the photo’s I found. But it’s gone, so I think we’re done here.’

‘We could look back in time, outside at the tent, see if it was stolen. The Dead Magic Zone doesn’t reach that far,’ Nate said.

‘But the temporal disturbance does, no Time Magic should be done here, it’s too dangerous.’

‘Weavers,’ Nate muttered.

Kez nodded, there was nothing further they could do.

Back out in the cooling evening air, the sun had dipped below the horizon turning the sky into a deep blue purple with a few pinkish clouds towards the horizon. The night was fast approaching and slowly leeched the warmth from the world.

They took one final look around and disappeared from the desert. Only the stillness of the evening remained. 

Some time passed before someone else appeared later that night. No one remained to monitor the passing of the hours, amongst the remains of the doomed expedition.

When the air finally did pop once more to admit another Magi into the desert, the sun had finally disappeared altogether leaving no trace on the night sky. The heavens were clear and the stars glittered brightly in their black velvet shroud over the land.

The woman had appeared upon some rocks looking down at the remains of the camp and the plateau. Slender and perfectly formed, around average height, with long flaxen blonde hair that framed her fine features, she wasn’t dressed for the desert. Her stiletto heels, mini skirt and blouse more suited to the plush offices and urban streets of Paris or Milan that were her usual haunts.

Looking over to the dig site she saw the smashed generators, cabling and other dig equipment that surrounded the entrance to the tomb in the middle of the rocky plateau. She would have to walk through the sand to get there as this seemed to be the closest her magic would get her. She gave a frustrated grunt and applied her magic to making her clothing a little more appropriate to her environment. She hoped this would be worth it.

“The blood lust of the Demon Horlack was like nothing I had ever seen before during my time as the scribe of my Master.

I have seen many strange things in his employ, but what I saw that day chilled me to my very bones. This Horlack was like something from the Pit, nothing could stand against it, it killed everyone in its path. Death has come to Constantinople.

May god have mercy on our souls.”

Notes on the Warlord Horlack and the Siege of Constantinople

By Kalmár the Elder, Scribe and Poet

10
th
April 1204

Epiphany

New York

Late May, 10 hours ago.

It was late May, nearly two months since Georgina had left for Ireland and the day began much like every day had since then. The day held no warning, no hint about how it would end. But end it would, and so would Amanda’s life, as she had known it.

Amanda woke up late, but then she always woke up late. She didn’t set her alarm clock, she hadn’t set it for weeks now, there being little to set it for. She grumbled at the thought of getting up, turned onto her side and drifted back into the sweet embrace of sleep once more.

She woke up a couple more times before she finally conceded defeat and sat up in bed. Light came into the apartment through the thin curtains, it would be fairly close to mid-day now, but Amanda had little to do. She would probably have a wander and pick up some groceries and other things but other than that she only had tonight to think about.

She’d been working her ass off recently to make as much money as she could before her flight. But the end looked to be in sight, her passport had finally come through after weeks of deals and setbacks, so she had booked her flight straight away, and in a few nights she would be returning to Ireland to see her best friend.

She had spoken to Georgina almost every day for the past seven weeks, always making time to have a long chat with her speaking as though nothing could be wrong, but Georgina wasn’t well. She’d become riddled with disease, her immune system no longer fighting off the infections, she spoke quietly on the phone and their conversations were filled with coughing fits and breaks to let Georgina get her breath back. Often Amanda would do all the talking while Georgina just listened, too exhausted to speak. They had written to each other as well, frequently at first, but soon Georgina’s letters began to arrive less often, and the writing got shakier and shakier. Then finally the writing changed altogether as Georgina began dictating to one of her carers instead.

The phone calls would often upset Amanda, sometimes she would cry openly, but more often her tears where silent as she listened to her dying friend. The letters were just as bad, now and again she would sit and read back through them, going over her favourites to re-read those words that meant so much to her, inevitably it ended in tears.

Amanda felt alone, more alone now than when she had first arrived in the USA. She often pondered that, she put it down to the fact that she had made friends. Made them and lost them. She had a few other friends, Stuart, some of the other pros, people in her tenement, but no one who really knew her, who she really spent quality time with. It was all polite conversation and pleasantries and little else. Even Stuart had grown more aloof since Georgina had left, but he remained by her side and protected Amanda on the streets.

Amanda crawled out of bed and after a moment in the bathroom she settled in the kitchen over a bowel of porridge. Georgina had always found this funny, porridge for breakfast. It had provided Georgina with hours of entertainment and plenty of ammunition to make fun of Amanda with, but Amanda really enjoyed her breakfast and always looked forward to the nice hot bowl of porridge. It had been a holdover from her orphanage days and Amanda still found it warming as it filled her up nicely for the day. She always felt more awake afterwards and ready to take on the world.

After cleaning up she changed from the tee shirt she wore to bed and dressed in boot cut jeans and a top to potter about the apartment in for a while. When she wasn’t out working on the streets, she preferred a slightly more normal style of dress that didn’t broadcast her job to the world. She loved wearing jeans or loose skirts and either a fitted camisole or tank top.

After a little while she had headed down to the lobby to pick up her post. She said hi to a few people she knew, pulled her post from her letter box and flicked through it. She noticed a letter from Ireland in there, and the moment she saw the familiar post mark she rushed upstairs and ripped it open. The usual handwriting of the carer filled the page, finished off with Georgina’s signature that looked shakier than ever. Amanda settled herself on her bed and began to slowly read it.

Dear Amanda

I hope this letter finds you well and that you are looking forward to finally coming over to see me in a little while. It’s been so long and although I hear your voice on the phone I can’t wait to finally see you and give you a big hug, I miss you terribly.

I’m sorry for not having written to you for so long but it’s exhausting to do and I find I can only do short letters or one long one in several parts. Thank you for your lovely letters and gifts, they mean so much to me and I often have the carers read them aloud, but I’m looking forward to talking to you face to face again.

I’m in the midst of the usual tests and things. I know it’s not going to be long now, the doctors seem to be treating me for the pain and little else, it’s just a case of making me as comfortable as they can, and I’m grateful for everything they do. I look just horrific, so don’t be surprised when you see me for the first time. The bed sores especially are quite painful when the pain killers wear off.

I had so many ideas for this cottage that I wanted to do, but I just can’t these days. The bedroom is lovely, which is understandable seeing as I spend so much time in here, but there’s work to be done elsewhere in the house I’m afraid. I hope you’re able to muck in a bit.

I’ll make this one a short letter as I will see you in a few days anyway. Take care of yourself and please take precautions, you really don’t want to end up like me.

Love you lots.

Georgie.

Amanda found herself in tears by the end of the letter and held it to her breast, her eyes closed as she let her emotion subside. She would indeed see her friend soon, just a few more days and nights to top up the bank account while she waited for her flight and all would be okay.

That afternoon she made a start on packing her clothes away, making some choices on what she would keep out for the next few nights work. For the past few weeks she had been busy slimming down her things, she didn’t have too much to begin with but what she had was too much to take with her to Ireland. Most of it she had given to friends or charity shops of one kind or another, and she had thrown a lot of it out which meant her apartment looked terribly bare. She sometimes wondered what the servers in the shops thought to her bringing all these tiny skirts and tops in for them. She could finally give up working the streets and stop wearing these ridiculous clothes, she couldn’t wait.

By now she had just about the right amount to take with her to Ireland. She had sent some of it ahead already, the things she couldn’t carry with her, and now only her clothes and other day to day bits where left. As the evening approached she changed from her jeans and top into a white lycra boob tube and slightly flared white mini skirt. She pulled on a pair of matching knee socks that would help with the cool night air but also gave her a kinky edge that some of her Johns liked, before finishing it off with a denim jacket. She then pulled on her high stilettos and headed out into the night.

The streets of Manhattan were busy with people going about their business, while the yellow cabs fought along the streets sounding their horns as they went. She would miss New York, it had become her home over these past couple of years and she knew it so well now.

The streets are one thing you learn about pretty fast when you work in the underbelly of a metropolitan area such as New York. She and Georgina had been in the odd scrape or two, having to sprint down the occasional alley way or over the odd fence here and there. They must have looked a sight, pelting along in their high heels, with their skirts hitched up and handbags flying. Georgina and Stuart had shown her all sorts of short cuts, hiding places and other city secrets.

Amanda knew the right people to go to for pretty much anything she wanted, if you were prepared to pay for it. The more you paid, the quicker you got it. If she’d had the money she could have bought a Social Security number, got herself a bank account and eventually been a proper American citizen and got herself off the streets that way.

She always enjoyed New York at night, it had that sleek sexy air of danger and grit that you often saw on celluloid, sold as something desirable. The cracked concrete and black girders, shattered glass, discarded crack needles and shadowed alleyways between steel towers with graffiti tattoos. It’s an ugly kind of beauty that the youth see as just too cool. It had rained that afternoon and the streets were slick with the aftermath of the downpour creating a black mirror shine that reflected the neon signs selling you sex and death for a quarter. The street kids were out in force, tripped out cars with fluorescent decals and chrome alloys bass thumped their way along the back streets, the faces inside giving the passers by their mad dog stare that few could meet. Into this miasma of oil slick cool and black promises slipped Amanda, heels clicking their way towards her patch and the Dark Side of the Moon Nightclub within it. Just another crimson lipped whore making her way to her next trick of the night. Behind those towers of pitch, the steadily darkening sky changed to a stunning purple and indigo, the last moments of daylight passing into memory once again.

She walked through streets of obsidian asphalt, over steel grates that thundered with the sound of the underground trains passing beneath her, through the rising plumes of steam from the manhole covers that dotted the streets like acne and past the wolf whistling gangs of homies camped out on the stoops of their tenements. She played the games, giving as good as she got from the teasing men. They knew her anyway as she passed this way often, they called out to her, teasing the new guy in their pack to whom she would wink, make sexual gestures towards as she left them to their whooping and cat calling. Some of them had been Johns of hers anyway.

A few more blocks of neon and brick and she turned a corner to see the nightclub before her. The Dark Side of the Moon Nightclub had once been an old church. Years ago as part of its refit into a club it had been painted black but it hadn’t been re-done since so that its facade was now one of faded cracking paint. This huge gothic edifice had been laid out in a cruciform plan and covered in spires and flying buttresses that reached like daggers into the night. The glowing neon sign above the main entrance advertised the name of the club to all and sundry in bright purple shades while spot lights in the fake graveyard lit up the walls. The light from inside made the stained glass windows that now held images of Vampires and Demons, glow and shine in the dark. Amanda could hear the deep bass of the music even now as she crossed the street towards it.

She wondered, as she approached the building, if she would see Howie there on the door tonight. He had befriended her when she first entered America, getting her off the streets and giving her the chance she needed. It would have been fitting to see him one last time before she left New York, but as she approached the door, she could see he wasn’t there.

The night was young, so there wasn’t yet a queue to enter. Amanda knew many of the other bouncers anyway and never had any trouble getting in, she glided inside and felt the industrial music wash over her. Dry ice hid the floor while coloured lights created a cavernous feeling inside.

The club was divided into several levels, each almost a club unto itself. The basement area catered to the Goth and Heavy Metal music, the main floor had more of an industrial and dance feel so that a more mainstream crowd came in here while upstairs held the VIP lounge which Amanda had yet to visit. Amanda headed over to the bar and bought a shot of something stiff while settling onto a stool cross legged. She made small talk to the guys behind the bar who knew her as she passed the time waiting for Stuart to arrive. Ten Minutes later he came in, wandered over to her and leant on the bar.

‘Hi Mandy,’ he said.

‘Hi,’ she replied and kissed him on the cheek while offering him a smile. In a few days she would be leaving, taking another percentage of his income with her. He wished her nothing but the best for the future, but she knew it would mean harder times for him for a while.

‘How’s the packing going?’ He asked.

‘Well, yeah. It’s going OK. I started going through my clothes today, just a few things to sort through and I’m about finished.’

‘That’s good. You’re more organised than I would be.’

‘Well, I’m kind of eager to be over there. She’s not well.’

‘I know Mandy, I got a letter from her today. I don’t remember the last time I got one.’

‘Yeah, I got one too. It chokes me up every time I see her signature. I just wish there was something I could do for her. She’s done so much for me.’

‘Just being there will be enough, I’m sure of it.

‘Yeah. I know,’ Amanda said, lowering her head a little.

The moment of silence lasted a few seconds. Thinking of her friend, alone and in pain in a country she didn’t know always served to bring about a more sombre mood in her. She would be hitting the streets in a moment, so she needed to be a little more positive than that, something which was getting harder all the time.

‘So, you want a quick one before we head out?’ Amanda asked, indicating the drink on the bar. ‘It’s on me.’

‘Yeah, why not,’ he replied, and Amanda called the bar tender over and got Stuart a shot of vodka.