Page 28

CHAPTER 28

T he following morning, the results of the fire became apparent. Of course, no strigoi bodies were found. When the bloodsuckers burned, there was nothing left but fine ash. But the Master of the City conveyed to Luka that his count was three hundred had met the final death. He also said seventy-five humans—either dead or injured—and about fifty dhampir bodies had been recovered.

No one took responsibility for setting the fire, but Müller’s Humanity First party posted a non-sympathetic comment about it on their website and suggested it wasn’t the worst thing that had happened recently in Zürich.

Two days later, the master took me back to the Langstrasse, to a small nightclub on the ground floor of a three-story apartment building. The entrance was guarded by two strigoi and a dhampir. They were armed with submachineguns. Evidently they recognized the Master as we breezed through their security and passed the bar. Most of the customers appeared to be strigoi, but it was early, and the crowd was rather small.

We climbed a set of stairs to the second level and walked down a hallway to another guarded door. That set of strigoi were a little more suspicious and thorough than the bouncers at the outside door. A hand-held scanner picked up my sword, and the Master asked for someone inside to come and clear our passage.

The man who answered the door was one of the oldest vampires I’d ever encountered.

“She’s armed,” one of the door guards said.

“She’s the least of your worries,” Master Adolphus told the old vamp.

They held each other’s eyes for a moment, then the vamp backed up and allowed us into the room.

The light was red. Three lycans—unshifted—sat to our left. Half a dozen strigoi stood against the walls around the room. But the centerpiece was the ancient vampire sitting on a throne.

To his left, seated on a chair below the dais of the throne, was a woman. Blonde and beautiful, she couldn’t have been much older than me when she was turned. Mid-twenties was my guess. She seemed to bear a family resemblance to Nikolas Müller, but maybe that was just my imagination. She was dressed for a night out at a club, which seemed appropriate.

The strigoi king on the throne was completely hairless, very thin, and his eyes glowed red. I couldn’t even guess at his age. A feeling of being inside an ancient tomb pervaded the room.

Strigoi—vampires—had a unique odor, almost a floral essence, tinged by the reek of carrion. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but I had never been in a closed room with that many vamps, and it was almost overwhelming.

The strigoi nodded once. “Adolphus.”

“Verner,” my master replied.

“I take it this is your newest apprentice. Comely.” The ancient one’s attention shifted to me. “Come closer, child.” His voice was as dry as a desert.

I closed half the distance between us and stopped. I had no doubt he was quicker than a cat, and while I might not have time to draw, at least I’d left myself some space.

Verner chuckled, a sound that reminded me of wind through a field of dry corn.

He leaned forward. “You don’t trust me, and you don’t like me very much, do you?”

“I don’t know you,” I answered. “I don’t like that you don’t control your people.”

“Oh? You think I should do a better job. I shall take that under advisement. This current mess is not my fault.”

“You provide an excuse for Nikolas Müller to play his game.”

His expression changed from slightly amused to stony.

“This is who you bring to diplomatic negotiations? She’s not very diplomatic. I’m surprised at you, Adolphus.”

My master gave him a bit of a grin. “I’m surprised that you’re surprised. You wouldn’t happen to have a spare chair for an old man, would you?”

Verner glanced at one of his guards, and a chair for the master was rapidly produced.

Master Adolphus sat, then said, “You invited me here. Have you and the lycans come to your senses? It seems rather silly to continue killing each other when there are millions of humans cheering you on. Survival would dictate some sort of compromise.”

The next three hours were spent with the lycans and strigoi airing grievances against each other and reluctantly admitting that Müller and the Church were a far greater threat to their existence. In the end, a peace treaty—or at least a ceasefire—was negotiated, and Master Adolphus was given assurances that the supernaturals’ leaders would make every effort to enforce the Compact.

The woman took no part in any of the discussion and instead spent the time studying me. So, I studied her. Her confidence was self-evident in the way she held herself, and a vamp far older than she was jumped to fill her chalice when she held it up. I assumed her power and authority stemmed from her relationship with the Master of the City, but there was a possibility that she was a nasty bitch no one wanted to cross in her own right.

I would never discount someone simply because they were young and female. I had killed a lot of people who made that mistake with me.

The strigoi clubs were still going strong when we left just after midnight. The Master and I were almost to the river when he let out a sigh. “That went far better than I had any reason to hope. It may take a few days for them to rein in their hotheads, but I think we may get the supernatural problem under control.”

“You think Nikolas Müller is our biggest threat,” I said.

“Definitely. The Guild can defy the Church and insist they abide by the Compact. But unless Müller’s adherents in the Guild come around to our way of thinking, we have no leverage against the Church and the Knights, only a schism.”

* * *

T he following afternoon, the Master led me through a number of exercises manipulating the ley line, which he said I had to master in order to learn offensive magic.

“When you wield power that can bend reality and change the physical world, you must be completely in control,” he said. “That is what scares me, and Amelia, and Master Elias about your friend Jodi. She does things simply because she can, without understanding or showing any concern for the consequences.”

“Do you know how she manipulated a fire thread?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I called Amelia last night and spoke to her. She said that Jodi sees two colors in the ley line—red and a yellowish orange. She said Jodi’s afraid of the second one, which is a good thing.”

“Red is fire, but I’m not sure what the other one is.”

“Heat. The kind of heat that melts stone. Volcanic, molten lava heat.”

I suddenly found it hard to breathe. “I guess it’s a good thing she hasn’t tried to use it—yet.”

He nodded. “But the fact she’s afraid of it tells me she has touched it. As for using magic the way you describe, that is something I might expect of a master. Even Amelia hasn’t progressed to that level of control. She said she would speak to Elias about it.”

We then went on to him showing me how to spool magic from the ley line. He spooled a single color, then two and three colors together, and finally, he grabbed a chunk of magic of all colors and spooled it into one of those little white golf balls. Then he let it be reabsorbed into the ley line. My head was spinning. He set me some exercises, and we turned our attention to a history lesson.

“Doesn’t Müller understand that Switzerland is a tiny country, with a small population, and he’s not going to be able to conquer Europe, no matter how many mages he has on his side?” I asked.

The Master sighed. “Do you remember the last time the Church and the Knights Magica made a power play?”

I shook my head. “I was just a kid, but I heard about it.”

He nodded. “Yes, I guess you were. It was about twelve—maybe thirteen—years ago. They managed to acquire an artifact—a major artifact—called the Heart of the World. It’s a Fae artifact, and it can control the ley lines. They used it to disrupt the lines, and using that advantage, attempted to take over the governments in most western countries. They succeeded in countries where the Church is firmly entrenched, such as Latin America, Italy, and Spain. In the end, the Fae—with the help of some Guild mages—stole the artifact and returned it to its rightful place in the Well of Magic—the nexus where all the ley lines originate. The Knights and the Church lost their advantage and were tossed out of many countries.”

“The Fae? You mean like fairies and pixies and elves?”

He smiled. “Elves are not Fae. They’re actually cousins of humans. About as close as lions and tigers. But, yes, fairies and pixies and púcas and boggarts. All the monsters living under the bed, as well as those who occasionally help little lost girls find their way home.”

I shook my head. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“I am not. Most of our myths and legends have a core of truth, and the elder races once held power over much of the earth. But humans are prolific—we breed like rats—and some of us can also wield magic, and if we continue to war against each other, the other races may, at some point, become supreme again.”

He took a sip of his tea, found it was cold, and rang for another pot.

Turning his attention back to me, he said, “The Fae say that you and I have Fae blood—that spirit mages and ley line mages have Fae ancestors. I have no idea if they’re correct, but it makes some sense considering the way we interact with the ley lines.”

Frau Buckner rapped at the door, then entered and swapped out a hot pot of tea for the cold one.

After she left, Master Adolphus said, “You are correct, however, in that Nikolas Müller’s ambition and ego exceed his capabilities. But such people are unable to understand their own limitations. He would have been much smarter to have entered the priesthood when he was young. The Church will use him until they have no more use for him, then stick him in an office somewhere he can’t do any damage—if they don’t execute him first.”

“Have you met with the Archbishop yet?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I wanted to meet with the supernaturals first. I’m having dinner with him tonight.”