Kingdom of the Wicked

“You support them, but they do the work,” said Sult. “And they’re not always going to be around, or they’re not always going to be quick enough. They’ll make a mistake. They’ll slip up. And when they do …” Sult trailed off, and Strom continued for him.

“Administrator Sult’s point is merely that you can’t put the security of the world on the shoulders of two people. Sooner or later, it’s going to crush them. We’re simply offering you support, Erskine. If we feel your Sanctuary is strong enough, then that is what we’ll report back and the matter will be forgotten.”

“And if you don’t feel that we’re strong enough?” Mist asked.

“Then we’ll help you. We’ll supply you with Cleavers, with sorcerers should you need them. There is also, I suppose, the option of sharing responsibility.”

Ghastly fixed him with a look. “Meaning you’d take over.”

“No, of course not. We’re here to help, for God’s sake. We don’t have an ulterior motive.”

“And if we don’t want you here?”

Strom looked hurt.

“I’m afraid we’d have to insist,” said Sult. “And I mean no disrespect when I say this, but the Supreme Council has been granted certain powers of veto and authority that I’m sure we can discuss at greater length later on.”

“Certain powers,” Mist said, “that were not agreed upon by us.”

“This is true,” Sult admitted. “If you want to deny us access, that is your right. However, such a move could cut you off from the rest of the world. You’d be isolated. Alone. With no one to call on for help should you need it.”

“That sounds like a veiled threat, Mr Sult.”

“I apologise. I only meant to stress the seriousness of the situation.”

“I think we’re beginning to grasp it,” said Ravel. “We’ll need to discuss your … proposal before giving an answer.”

“Of course,” Strom said, and both men got to their feet. “We have sorcerers and Cleavers standing by, ready to help in a purely supportive capacity, but we can only keep them in place for seven days. After this day next week, our offer of assistance must be withdrawn.”

“And then?” said Ghastly.

“And then we’ll have to take more decisive measures.”

Strom and Sult bowed slightly, and walked from the room.

“So not only do we have a threat,” Ghastly said when they were gone, “now we have a deadline, too.”

Ravel sank back into his chair. “This is going to be trouble.”

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he arrow sliced through the running man’s leg, sending him to the mud, screeching.

“Good shot,” Eliza Scorn said.

Christophe Nocturnal nocked another arrow in his bow as they walked through the dark forest. “They say man is the most dangerous prey, but the fact is that rabbits are much harder to hit. Still, there’s nothing quite like the panicked squeal a mortal makes when they know they’re about to die. It’s quite relaxing, in its own way.”

“I had heard you were quite the hunter, and now I see all the stories are true.”

“I’ve been doing this since I was a boy,” he said. “My father used to take us out, me and my four brothers.”

“I didn’t know you had any siblings.”

“I don’t. When we reached our teenage years, my father threw us all into a pit and announced that only one of us was coming out alive. I was the smallest of my brothers, but the most ruthless.”

“What a charming story.”

“It was a different time back then. A simpler time.” Nocturnal settled into an archer’s stance, pulled the bowstring back, and let fly. The arrow caught the hobbling mortal in the back. The mortal fell, face down. “What do you want, Eliza?”

“Oh, it’s not just what I want,” said Scorn. “It’s what you want, too. We should be allies. Combining the Church of the Faceless with the church you lead in America, we could get this world back on track, you and I.”

Nocturnal chuckled. “And there, you see, we have our problem.”

“Oh?”

“My church doesn’t need you, Eliza. We’re strong enough as we are. We’re funded and resourced by seventy per cent of those mages who worship the Faceless Ones. Aligning ourselves with your church would not give us the rewards it would give you.”

“Ah, but I think you’re deliberately ignoring some key facts. We have something you don’t – we have a Cradle of Magic. The Diablerie successfully brought through three Faceless Ones only a couple of years ago. We have a track record, as they say. We have credibility.”

“But you’re weak.”

“Compared to your organisation, perhaps. But we’re growing stronger. And I don’t say this to cause offence, but at least I’m not a wanted criminal.”

Nocturnal laughed. “No offence taken. To be honest, though, my renegade status has actually helped my church. The people I represent are nervous by nature, unwilling to proclaim their beliefs for all to hear. They look to me for leadership, as someone who isn’t afraid to stand up to the Sanctuaries.”

“And they’re also, I would expect, more than a little afraid of you?”

“Fear helps things run smoothly.”

“I would imagine so,” said Scorn. “But you didn’t come all this way to turn me down straight, now, did you?”

“No. No, I didn’t. I’m interested in your offer, with a few amendments.”

“Such as?”

“Your church is absorbed into mine, not the other way around. You would be kept on, naturally, but as my second in command.”

Scorn bristled. “I would have thought partners would be more fitting.”

“My people are nervous,” Nocturnal said. “They’d feel safer if they knew I was still in charge. Unfortunately, it is a requirement, not a request.”

“Of course. That … isn’t a problem.”

“And one other thing,” said Nocturnal. “Before we go ahead, the mages I represent would like one little favour. A demonstration of goodwill.”

“And that is?”

“They’ve all heard the stories of what happened when the Diablerie brought the Faceless Ones back. They heard about the girl, Valkyrie Cain, and how she used the Sceptre of the Ancients to kill two of our gods, and my people don’t think she should be allowed to get away with that.”