Page 41
Story: A City of Swords and Fangs
CHAPTER 41
W e put Nicola and Verner in one of the Master’s basement rooms and gave them the packets of blood that Nicola had brought with her from a blood bank. Then I dissolved the shield around them, we closed the door, and warded it. Neither the Master nor I were comfortable trusting Verner’s mood once he had fed and fully awakened.
That evening, Nicola called for a car, and they left. I had never felt such relief.
The Guild Council sent a message to the commanders of the Kantonspolizei, and soon the imprisoned members of the City Council were released. Most of the top figures of Nikolas’s political party took the councilors’ places in the cells. Members of the Guild who sided with him were arrested. Some were jailed, some had their magic stripped from them.
Master Adolphus visited the archbishop and advised him that the Knights Magica in Zürich should stand down. The City Council placed a ban on the Knights traveling the city in groups of more than five and effectively restricted them to Church properties.
The murder charge against me was dropped, and Master Otto was executed for the murder of Master Noah.
As things quieted down, I resumed my lessons. Master Adolphus had concentrated on shielding and illusions up to that time, but my performance in rescuing Verner seemed to satisfy him.
To my surprise, when we got together on the terrace the following day, he said, holding up his ring, “You can embed magic into a ruby like this, but you don’t just plant raw magic into an object—unless you’re using it as a reservoir to pull the magic out later. You know, to enhance your magic. Let’s say that you traveled to a place where there were no ley lines. You need something to draw magic from, right? So, a reservoir would give you access to magic, like a battery provides electricity on the go.”
He seemed to muse for a long moment, then said, “Let’s say I wanted to create an artifact that a mage could use to shoot fire. I would need a fire—preferably one created by a pyromancer—to draw the magic from and insert it into an object. A lightning rod and a storm could provide the power to insert electricity into an object, or an electrokinetic could supply the energy. I can’t just imagine that kind of magic out of nothing. Are you with me so far?”
“I think so. I know what the elements in the ley line are for earth magic, but without the proper runes to focus them, I can’t wield them the way a geomancer can.”
“Exactly. But if the geomancer pulls the magic and transforms it, then you can direct it into an object. You’ve seen how that works with the weapons you crafted with Master Mikhail. But for today, we’re going to start with storing magic in an object.”
He pulled out a small cloth bag and shook a red stone the size of my pinky nail onto the table.
“Many stones can be used as magical repositories, but the best is a ruby. Sapphires also work well and are cheaper and easier to find. Lapis and turquoise are probably the most commonly used. Now, open yourself to the ley line.”
After about an hour, I was able to direct power from the ley line into the ruby and lock it there.
“Couldn’t a ley line mage do that?” I asked.
The Master nodded. “Yes, Alex is quite adept at it. But since he can’t differentiate the threads in a ley line, he can’t take the next step and store fire or water or electricity in a gem. It’s just raw magic. He studied with me for several years and has an incredible command of his talents. I wish his brothers had his intelligence and humility.”
“I like him a lot.”
“He’s a good friend to have,” the Master said with a smile, then sent me off for the rest of the day.
* * *
T he following week, the Master came by my table at breakfast.
“Pack a bag for a week. You might include a nice dress for going out to dinner.”
“Where am I going?”
“Munich. I have need of your talents. We’ll leave in the morning.”
After he left me, Siobhan came by my table.
“You’re going to Munich?” she asked.
“It appears I am.”
“So am I. He said he needs a translator. I don’t understand why. He speaks all the languages I do.” I knew she spoke French, in addition to English and German.
“Maybe it’s to translate to other people?” I suggested.
“Well, that makes sense.”
Early the next day, we got into a Guild SUV with the Master, Colonel Sorento, and Captain Le Pen, with Hans driving.
“We have a meeting with representatives from several Guild delegations, the archbishops from across Europe, and the governments of most European nations that have had issues with the Knights Magica and their anti-supernatural crusade,” the Master told us. “Trying to deal with them individually hasn’t worked, so the Guild is going to present a united front to try and end this senseless slaughter.”
That sounded good on the face of it. I wondered how much would come of it, but I enjoyed the ride and looking at the scenery.
We checked into a fancy hotel in the center of the city and had dinner at a fancy restaurant. Afterward, Siobhan, Hans, and I hit a beer hall for a couple of drinks. It was crowded, with a lot of tourists.
“This is nothing compared to Octoberfest,” Hans said. I decided to try and miss that.
In the morning, we went to the Rathaus—the City Hall. A tech guy took Siobhan and taught her how to use the electronic translation setup. She would listen to someone speaking from the floor of the council chamber, and then press a button and repeat what they said in a different language. Each seat in the chamber had headphones for listening to the speakers and translators.
At lunch, she told me, “There will be several of us, apparently. Each has a language assigned. I’ll be translating into French, mostly, but it depends on the language of the original speaker.”
As for me, the Master took me to a seat off to the side of the dais.
“I want you to sit here and watch the room. Not the speaker, but everyone else. When the conference is over, I’m going to want you to project the proceedings for me.”
I shook my head in confusion. “There are cameras all over this place. Can’t you just watch the recordings?”
“I could, but they wouldn’t catch the emotions, the feelings in the room. I’m especially interested in the reactions of the audience. There will be people who are happy or angry at what’s being said, and I want to identify those people. Your ability to remember and project an illusion of your memories is rather unique. It’s something I can’t do, and really, I’ve only met a couple of people who could. You’re right, I can watch what the cameras pick up, but I want you to concentrate on what the cameras can’t record.”
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