The Wielder: Sworn Vengeance (The Wielder Series) (25 page)

We talk Shey into going to find a pencil.  She
isn’t happy leaving me alone with Silithes, but Vets’ presence gives her some solace.

Sil is blowing on her
cotton stuffed toes.  Apparently a clear coat is important. 

This is a Sil
ithes I am not used to – the counselor.  Is this part of the Sil she’s been shielding me from?  And if so – why the heck why? I appreciate good council.  Sure, maybe it’s not as sexy in her mind, but I’d rather have good input any day.

That’s
my almost 100 year old brain talking, not the 19 year old body – I never listen to that young pup.  It just gets me in trouble.

Shey returns and present
s Sil with lots of pencils.  Sil examines the ceiling and redoes her anti-scrying spell.

“I suggest we call Edgar first, he’s a guild leader and has a big sphere of influence
,” Sil says not looking up from her toes. “Plus he really doesn’t seem to like Alistair - that works in our favor.”

Sil sits down with the pad,
her preferred pencil, and gets to work.  She hands the first sheet to Shey who regards it with a cockeyed smile. “You’re a really good artist,” Shey says to her as she hands me Edgar’s phone numbers.

I look at the near photo real image of my old phone with his contact information up on it, then I look up at Vets, whose fingers are tapping on the arm of her chair. For her, that is world class fidgeting.
  I guess that makes sense.  Sil is doing phone numbers, Shey is being Shey. Vets is doing nothing. Big girl likes to contribute.

“Vets, can you check out the room service menu and figure out an order for us?  I’m famished and will be starving by the time these calls are done.  Food’s important – got to keep our strength up.”

“I will,” she says getting up to address her new mission with gusto.

Sil’s eyes turn to me from faraway and I get a quick smile – then they go back to faraway as she continues scrawling my phone contacts.  Shey bounds after Vets reminding her that she is vegetarian.

Time for the first call.  I punch Edgar’s personal cell into the phone, hit connect and walk over to a corner of the room for some privacy.  It rings and rings.

“I hope you are not calling with a
nother life and death emergency again,” comes Edgar’s slightly Americanized British accent.

That takes me aback. “Uh.. maybe…  sorry if I am.”  Then I realize the ho
ur I’m calling him – about 3am.

“Arthur… yes.  Thought you were someone else. We heard someone was running about using your credit card.  We sent Greg to investigate.  Have you met up with him yet?”

I’m being stalked by the Sword of Balance; maybe it will save me a phone call. “Not yet, I did meet up with Alistair.”

“Well don’t be surprised when you see
Gregory. I imagine the young man is still traveling. He had to come from Seattle. Terrible thing, some factions of the vampires are acting up now.  And how is our fearless leader?  I am so pleased you called on him.”

“You won’t be
,” I tell him.  “He won’t let me see Karen.  In fact, I got thrown out.  There’s something really wrong about it.  If they’re just protecting her, why can’t she talk to a friend? It feels like she’s being held as a prisoner.”

That
input gets some profound silence in my earpiece. “Damnation. Do you think they have harmed her?”

“No way to know Edgar.  But we need to know.”

“Indeed Arthur, so what are you asking of me?”

“Two things. First, hop in that jet of yours and get over here
, now.  Second, see who else you can get to join us. Alistair won’t budge an inch for me.  But if we can present a unified front of Protectorate Guilds on his doorstep, he’ll have to budge for all of us.”

“Sound thinking Arthur.
I’ll make some calls – At a reasonable hour.”

Oops.
International time differences make me inconsiderate again.

“Sorry Edgar
,” I offer sheepishly realizing what my zeal has done. “I’m just worked up and worried.”

“Fair enough. Call Greg
ory, he should either have landed or is close to landing. Last thing you want is him interrogating you to prove that you’re you. For that matter, he doesn’t need to deal with that either.  Anything more?”

“No sir.”

“Good night then Arthur, see you soon.”

Click.

I turn around from my private little corner.  “Do we have Greg’s number yet?”

Sil sorts through the note papers and waves one at me.
I plod over and take it, and sit down on the sofa again away from the water spot. I text Greg a message as he is one of those people that does text. “I live again. At the Crowne Plaza Nottingham.  Presidential Suite. Call when you can.”

I ask Sil for the rest of the numbers and she puts down the nail file to reach over and plop them down in front of me on the glass table between us. “Anything else?”

I say “no,” to her and she gets back to work on her nails.  I look over the papers and know I have some work in front of me.  Apparently Sil has been paying attention all this time, she’s missed no one I have contact for in the Protectorate.  She even ranked them in order for calling, based on the notations “call #1,2,3…” with little notes on each. I look over at her working on her nails looking every bit like the self-absorbed, oblivious to others, succubus we’ve known her to be her forever.

Appearances are everything to them, I remember someone telling me. Appearances…

“Stop staring, get calling,” Sil says looking up from her nails. “Time’s wasting.” Then just like that she's back to perfection of the nails.

I dive head long into the calls. It becomes somewhat repetitious but I slog my way through the
m, pacing about the room – trying to be as animated as I was with the first one.

After a little over an hour I’ve called everyone.  Not everyone was on board, but the plea for K
aren was sent.  Hard to believe phone calls could be so draining. I plop down in the chair Sil was sitting in and lean my head back.

Edgar’s in.  Gunter will see what he can do. 
Christophe will petition his guild.   Ms. Morningdew will be there and see if her guild will support her.  Others gave me a “maybe.”

It’s the best I can hope for.  I lean my head back to rest.

“Shall I order the food now,” asks Vets.  “I have a menu put together that will satisfy all.”

I open my eyes and lean my head up to look at her standing there, Sheyliene
is standing next to her. “It’ll be a great meal,” Shey adds with her signature enthusiasm.

“Bring on the food Vets.”

My phone starts buzzing and vibrating on the table.  I pick it up and answer – “Arthur here.”

“Dude
, how many lives do you have?” It’s Greg Inosanto, otherwise known as the sword of balance, demonbane, and a host of other names.

“I’m hoping for a dozen more my friend, you can never tell
,” I shoot back.

“Driving from Heathrow, just landed. Glad it’s you.  It is you
… right?”

“Yea it’s me, it’s Shey, Sil and Vets too.”

“What no dorf? Where’s my drinking buddy?”

“He’s busy.
And he’s not a dwarf. Get here.  Call someone from the Shadows and get them to join us,” I give him the same pitch I just repeated for an hour.

Greg tells me he’ll try to get
Hiro himself, the Shadows Guild leader to join us.  “That is bullcrap,” he adds. I can tell Greg is a little more than just aggravated, after all Karen and he actually dated for a short while. “I’m on my way.  Get me a room.”

I let him know I will and we hang up.

Shey and Vets are still standing there, apparently food was not ordered.  This is good.

“Vets figure something for Greg, he’ll be here in about two hours. Shey, take my card and go reserve a room for him.”

“But that will break the spell that keeps them from looking on us,” says Sheyliene.

“The work has been done
,” comes Sil’s voice from somewhere behind the wet bar, “But it’s good you’re aware that opening the door breaks the spell.”

Shey heads to the door and looks at me as if to ask if I’m sure.  I nod to her and she opens it, heading down to get Greg a room. I lean my head back against the padding of the chair to rest.

“Come with me out to the balcony,” I hear Sil say now with a drink in hand.  Great, I'm going to be charged for mini bar damage too.

I see her open the sliding glass door and head out.  So I follow. I get to the balcony and am greeted by
the sight of Sil leaning against the rail, giving me a great view of her rear assets.  I pause for a moment to take that in.  Inner caveman shouts out a “take!” but is just as quickly ignored.  Instead I lean on the rail next to her, looking out over Nottingham.

“What
's up," I ask.

S
he turns those green eyes to me, “You did really, well.  I didn’t expect you to bring forces to Alistair’s door.  I thought maybe you’d have people call… or email.”

I nod to her.  Heck, what else to say
… she thought I’d start a letter writing campaign?

“Very aggressive b
ringing the fight to his door, Arthur,” she continues.  “I’m impressed. You took my direction and made it your own.  I wanted you to know that; that you did really well in my eyes.”

Like I need her affirmation… All the same, compliment is a compliment and it would be rude to just blow it off.

“Thanks.”

We stand there in silence, taking in the city of Nottingham
, both of us in deep thought. Mine revolves around the business I just started. Hers I bet is a little more carnal.

I break the silence. “So is this the true Silithes
I don’t know about?”

Th
at statement gets me a sideways glance that returns out the horizon followed by a sip of mini-bar. “I suppose. Truth is, I’m not sure who she is either. I may have made a promise I can’t deliver.”

She must have sensed the scrunching of my face in confusion at that statement
, as she glances at me and gives me a look that says, “oh well," then turns back to the horizon.

“I know who I was before I was taken.  I know who I was while I was in the
Collector’s keep. I’m just not sure I want to be either of those… people. Truth is Arthur, I’m really not sure who Silithes is now. Funny… Pixie’s world is so black and white. It wasn’t her doing all those things while in the Collector’s clutches. Me, I have ownership of it all and all I see now are grey areas.”

I don’t have words; possibly because I’m unaccustomed to having serious conversations with Sil about anything except
her desire for sex with me. Possibly, because what she said just felt honest.  With a lack of words, I just reach out grasp her shoulder gently and pat her back to show support.  She stiffens for a second at the contact, I think from surprise.

That surprise overcome she turns to me inquisitively
, “Why are you so good to me Arthur?”

That question sets me back on my heels. Again, my poker face gives me away, I can tell by her sly smile. “Last I checked
Sil, I’ve never given you what you want – that’s so good?”

She looks away
, gazing over Nottingham, “You don’t keep me in the white, even when you actually disliked me. Dorothy despised me and wanted you to send me away- you didn’t. You let me hunt and feed my hungers. I lost my mind, jacked you up and yet, here we are.”

She looks back at me
, “That’s good in my mind Arthur. I may not get what I want, but I have what I need – and maybe much more than I deserve.”

The sliding glass door opens and Shey joins us
, “What are you two doing out here?”

“Nothing
really Shey,” I tell her.

“Yea, nothing really
,” Sil adds, casually turning around to look at Sheyliene and take another sip -“Just talking about you.”

Greg arrive
d shortly after we left the balcony, so did the emperor’s feast that Vets had ordered for us.  She did well, but man, that spread is going to hurt the bank account.  Greg shares news that some of the vampires are breaking accords and asserting themselves - publicly.  He had just come from Washington State attending to matters there.

That means lopping off vampire heads.

He tells us the event made it into the media – the vampires that is. They were bold and uncaring and essentially tried to take possession of a whole town.  I am out of touch, apparently it’s been a media frenzy – “VAMPIRES ATTACK!”

Greg bei
ng basically jet lagged, excuses himself after eating to catch up on some rest. 

No excuses required. I’m a bit tired myself.

Over the course of the next day, we were joined by a host of dignitaries from many Protectorate guilds.  Hiro Nasigushi, leader of the Shadows arrived.  Gunter and Frederick Reiniger, the guild master of the Order of light arrived.  Of course, Edgar showed as did Carmella Morningdew of the Caretakers of Earth. Christophe LeBlanc arrived with fiat from his guild, the Healing hands along with a mystery guest.

Missing of
course was the Magerium itself, the Bringers – conjurers and illusionists, and the Eyes of Providence – the seer’s guild.

After a light rest by all
, we convene in the hotel lobby with the exception of Edgar – a motley crew indeed and I am amazed. Hands are shaken and we all are in agreement that the one thing that matters is seeing Karen – the red witch – friend, Protectorate general and teacher of small children.

One of the strangest of our groups
is the fully robed and cowled female mystery guest that accompanied Christophe. Everyone seems to give her acknowledgement and deference.  Gunter finally takes me by the arm and drags me over to this “person” who turns out to be a borderline mythical creature named Galindria – an empath and healer of great power who allegedly started the Healing Hands over 600 years ago.

“
Madam Galindria,” Gunter proclaims in his never less than boisterous voice.  “This is Arthur, who pulled us all together.”  He squeezes my shoulder strongly. “Give respect and salutations Arthur!”

“Good to meet you ma’am” is all I can
think to say.  If this is the person/creature they claim, she is ancient and of mixed human, fae and dzemond blood. 

“Good to meet you too sir
,” comes a mild voice from under the fully cloaked cowl.  “It has been a long time since such a plea has come forth to move me from my shelters.”

I can’t fathom the meaning of that. But I know Christophe is here, she is here and t
he leader of their guild is not - that probably means she has fiat.

Christophe joins us putting an arm around my
shoulder, “A truer heart you will you not meet good madam. I have enjoyed teaching him our ways.”

“He resists the demon whore!” is Gunter’s addition as if that is the singular defining issue of my being.  The blocked cowl turns to him and nods.  I can see nothing of the face underneath.

“Should we not be going?” comes the mild voice under the cowl.

She’s right.  Time to roll. I announce such to our group.  We all know where we are going – meeting there is not an issue.  I gather my merry band of summonlings as they
are and pile us into the van and head to the woods.

I pull into the parking area in front of the little guard shack, noting I’m not
the first to arrive – Edgar was. We pile out of the van and within 15 minutes our collective is there.

With our party at full strength, I announce it
’s time to go and approach the guard’s shed. The guards have been taking us in the whole time with suspicious eyes.

“Tell A
listair that a contingent of five guilds, plus the sword and myself are here to see Karen. It’s okay” I throw a quick wink at him. “We’ll just wait here.”

My proclamation gets
a “what the heck” stare, followed by a grabbing of the phone.

After about ten minutes a crawler appea
rs carrying none other than Alistair himself and a couple of his flunkies.  It parks next to the guard shack and Alistair strides forth to address us with anger in his eyes.

“What is the meaning of this? Karen is in protective custody of the Magerium – this is known. You would compromise her safety?”

Edgar is first to jump in. 

“I would be first to verify her safety
Alistair.”

“This is Magerium business
,” Alistair spits back at him. “You have no authority here. Tend to your own.”

Frederick, the leader of the order of light and a very hale older man steps forth.  “The
Protectorate is a collection of interests, and as such we may have no direct authority within your guild’s business, but we do have interest for one who has fought so strongly for us all. Tell me, Alistair, why can we not see our comrade in arms?”

Alistair
stares at the large grey-haired man and finally responds, “You compromise her safety.”

“How? Are we all not friends here? Does our entering of your keep somehow make it more vulnerable?” Frederick looks around to us all.  “I must be getting slow of mind in my old age, please explain this
... Now.”

The last
word – “now” carries a great deal of presence with it.

“You don’t understand, she’s a danger to herself. She is vulnerable to the beast Znuul. Our entire organization would be compromised if she was
taken. Our numbers, tactics, locations.”

Frederick looks at
our group and then him uncompromisingly, “You have not answered the question.  What are you hiding?”

Al
istair is flustered. He glares at me and I get a shiver through my spine. Then that glare is broken by the soft voice of Madam Galindria. 

“Poor A
listair. You try to control an uncontrollable situation. Do you even feel your authority slipping away?  I do believe we have a Protectorate quorum here, don’t we Edgar?”

“We do, good lady”

With a deep breath Alistair tries to regain his composure. “I have already told all of you, this is Magerium business. We are sovereign, as are your guilds.  Please, she is being cared for and when these monsters are no longer a threat to us, she will be allowed to rejoin us all.”

“She will be released from custody you mean
,” I spit at him. “She’s committed no crime except having a heart.”

“Enough of this
,” Alistair exclaims. “The matter is done.”

He turns to leave, stalking towards his lackeys and the crawler.

“Who moves to remove the Magerium from the ranks of the Protectorate?  We have a quorum and they appear to have turned away from the principles we embrace,” says Madam Galindria in a sweet, calm tone.

T
he braid-bearded one stops dead in his tracks.

“The Techno-mage guil
d moves for the removal of the Magerium from the ranks of the Protectorate on the basis of a breach of core ethics.”

Now, this is
turning fun. “Hey Frederick,” I call out. “If the Magerium isn’t part of the Protectorate, then Alistair couldn’t sit at high chair of the council anymore would he?”

“That is correct
,” spouts back Frederick, pointing at me. “And in most likelihood he would not sit long at the helm of the Magerium either after causing such embarrassment.”

“This is really being blown out of proportion
,” Alistair says turning around and in his best fatherly tone, “Let us take some time to consider the repercussions of our actions.”

“The Caretakers second the motion
,” is Carmella’s response to that.

“Take us to her now, without pause, without compromise and we won’t have to see this to
its logical conclusion Burningwood,” says Edgar coolly.  “Or you can test our metal.”

Alistair
scans the group and holds out his hands in a conciliatory fashion. “No testing of metal Edgar. Come, I will take you to see Karen.”

The spindly looking flunky
rushes to his side and whispers something in his ear, which he dismisses immediately. “Bring other crawlers. Good Madam you may not come due to your blood.  Our wards would not take to you kindly.”

The cowl of her hood nods accordingly.

“Those not of guild, are not welcome,” he throws in.  That means me.

“
I plan to see my friend,” I let him know.

“You are not guilded.”

“I beg to differ” comes Edgar.

“The Order of L
ight claims him,” follows Frederick.

The Madam’s soft voice follows them both. “I am not in the hierarchy of the Hands anymore but I am sure if I was to suggest his inclusion, they would abide.”

Then, Greg appears in front of Alistair, causing him to jump slightly. “You can’t mean that I’m not going to be allowed to see her, really? Me? Just because I’m not officially guild affiliated?”

The silent Hiro makes his voice heard. “The Shadows have always considered the Sword one of their own.”

There we are. Greg and I are in.  Though I’m pretty sure Alistair has no problem with Greg – at least openly.

“Fine
,” he says with a forced grin. “Let us go.”

We make our way to the opening and inside to the crystalline
cavern. Only we don’t go up to the tower.  Alistair touches a part of the wall and it opens to a hallway.  We follow the hallway to stairs and go down – several levels deep into the bowels of the Magerium. 

Torches with bright green magical flames light our way and we find ourselves
going down a long hall with a series of large metal doors. We stop in front of one of the doors - a dungeon like door.

“Ke
ep these things in mind,” says Alistair “She approved use of anti-anxiety medicines and also remember that she is very powerful.  I doubt we could keep her protected if she wished otherwise.”

The door is unlocked and we enter.

My heart stops for a beat.

There is Karen,
her hair greasy and matted, eyes sunken; wearing a floral blue house coat with a terry cloth bib around her neck and an IV in her arm. There’s what appears to be food and drool on the bib.  She’s staring at television with a cartoon running.

She looks over at us, then
Edgar. “Unca” I hear her almost say with a slight change of expression to what might be considered maybe a smile.  Then she turns back to the TV and a huge stream of drool comes from her mouth to the bib.

“Dear god!” Christophe exclaims and goes to her side. He examines her IV. “Thorazine
Alistair? This is not anti-anxiety medication, this is a chemical lobotomy!” Christophe looks around for something and not finding it, makes his demands known.

“I need gauze and adhesive.”

But Christophe doesn’t wait. He pulls the IV line carefully and sets his fingers upon the opening, muttering a healing prayer.  He holds his hand out to me. “Arthur, lend me your strength, we must perform the prayer against poisons.”

I take his hand and we begin the incantation of the prayer to heal against poisons. I close my eyes and try to will my energy to Christophe so he can in turn channel the healing energies to
Karen.  We conclude the prayer and Karen gasps a deep breath.

“Where did you all…  Where am I?” she asks.

She looks around, “What is happening?”

“Woe be unto our enemies if this is how we treat our friends
,” says Frederick.

I find that statement rather telling.

Karen tries to stand, but has issues – I can’t be sure if from the drugs or from being inactive for so long. Christophe is there to help.

I am just stunned. This is unreal.

Karen is standing now, with help, looking around the room confused. She catches sight of the IV rig and bag.  She pulls off her bib in disdain. “Oh my god, I’m wearing a diaper and I’ve used it.”

Her eyes lock on A
listair and her face becomes enraged. She lunges at him slapping at him.  He’s probably fully warded and not worrying about it. Frederick grasps her around the waist and pulls her back gently as he can.

She relaxes in
Frederick’s grasp and he lets her go.  She stands wobbly for a brief moment then turns to Alistair, hate in her eyes.  “Nullen!” she exclaims holding her hand out and there is a sound of breaking glass.  Alistair’s face is one of panic.

She just took down his
wards.

I rus
h forward in front of her as Alistair’s entourage pull foci and guns. “Don’t, Karen.  We’re here for you. He’s of no consequence. Hear me, Karen… we need you.”

She closes her eyes.
When her eyes open back up all the rage is gone.

“Karen, we did this for your own good.  You know you are vulnerable to the beast Znuul
,” Alistair proclaims. “You know the stress and conflict you were under. We were trying to be compassionate.”