Sunrise(Pact Arcanum 2) (14 page)

Layla mastered her fear. “The Redeemer is a myth, my Lord,” she said, her voice unwavering. “A story to amuse the newly turned. The Magister Kashalas was too old to be swayed by such fantasies. Why would the Eldest have singled him out?”

Aleksei reached into his suit jacket and drew out a folded sheet of paper, tossing it carelessly to the floor between them. Using telekinesis, Layla lifted the letter to her hand. She opened it to find one of her coded messages; only the signature had been altered, now reading ‘Salkiara.’ She raised her eyes to Aleksei’s. “And what of the Magister Salkiara?” Salkiara—who had been next on her list of allies to recruit.

Aleksei shrugged. “She screams beneath the ministrations of the Eldest’s inquisitors. No doubt she will not live beyond the sunrise.”

She crumpled the letter in her hand. “Why are you here, my Lord?”

Aleksei examined the bright tapestries that adorned the walls. “Your rebellion interests me, Layla. Whether or not you succeed in drawing more followers to your side, this Redeemer is useful for keeping the Eldest distracted.”

Layla raised an eyebrow, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place like tumblers in a lock, opening upon a vista of new possibilities. “You are Luscian’s strong left hand, Aleksei. Have you turned on him at last?”

Aleksei chuckled and continued to follow the woven lines of color with his gaze. “No alliance lasts forever among the Children of Darkness, my Lady. If I wished it, your name would appear at the bottom of that letter. That it does not is a gift from me.” He turned finally to face her. “You may plot your treason as you wish and draw the Eldest’s attention. When the time is right, he will come for you and your Redeemer. I will be there to pick up the pieces, no matter the victor. Until then, take your life, with my blessing—but do not get in my way.”

Then he turned and strode out, leaving her alone, the sharp ticking of the grandfather clock the only sound.

CHAPTER 17

October 2021, Los Angeles, California

Edgar answered his door, and his first thought on seeing the young couple on the front porch was that they had stopped for directions. Then he felt the psychic aura of the man, and immediately raised his defenses. He was about to cast his first attack spell, when the woman grabbed his wrist and stepped between them. “Brother, what the hell are you
doing
?”

Edgar snarled. “He’s one of—” Then he faltered, realizing it was barely six o’clock, and the sun was still very much above the horizon. He turned to the Sentinel woman. “How?”

She frowned. “He’s a Daywalker. Don’t you know about the treaty?”

Edgar just stared at her with a blank expression.

The vampire whistled softly. “I thought he was a rebel at first, but his emotions are only showing confusion. I’ll bet he has no idea what I am.”

Edgar was completely at a loss. “What treaty? What the hell is a Daywalker? Who
are
you people?”

“Oh, Christ,” muttered the woman. “This is going to be a ton of paperwork.”

“Maybe we should go inside and sit down,” suggested the man.

Edgar pulled the door of his house closed behind him. “My family is in there, you freak. You’re not getting anywhere near them except over my dead body.”

The man sighed, then reached into his shirt and drew out a silver cross on a chain. As Edgar watched, he spoke an activating word of power, and the cross glowed with a soft blue light. “As you can see, I’m not a Nightwalker,” said the man. He held the cross cupped in his hand so the light wouldn’t be seen by the nearby trickle of pedestrians, chatting away on their sat phones. “I am a Child of the Dawn, a soldier of darkness redeemed, and I am not your enemy. My name is Richard Tribunus Curallorn, Armistice Security, and my words are true.”

The woman sighed. “Brother, I know this must be very confusing, but he isn’t a threat. I swear it on the Light. My name is Elena Diannis, Armistice Security, and my words are true.”

Edgar was hardly reassured, but he had calmed down from his initial reaction. The vampire’s aura was subtly different than a Nightwalker, less hostile to his senses.
Obviously, I missed a day of school.
“I’m listening.”

“Last year, one of the Winds cut a deal with the higher powers for the ability to cure vampirism,” Elena said.

Edgar shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. Even if vampirism were just a disease you could cure, the higher powers don’t intervene on our plane without an invitation. The Gates of Morning are sealed. There’s no way he could have communicated with them.”

“The seal was broken,” said Richard in a soft voice. “Jiao-long Firstborn recreated the Pact Arcanum.”

Merciful God. They’re serious.
Then he remembered Takeshi’s words from the year before. “The key to our eventual victory and freedom from the Gift,” he whispered. “That’s what Nakamura meant.”

The other Sentinel quirked her eyebrows. “You
know
Takeshi Nakamura?”

“He came by last year to tell me about the death of a friend. Antonio Martinez.”

Richard stared at him. “Are you kidding me?”

In answer, Edgar pulled out his wallet and showed him the writ of free passage that Antonio had given him. Richard studied the Arcolin pictograms for a moment before handing it back. “Elena, I think we need to refer this up the line.”

“I agree,” Elena said.

“Mr. Jameson, will you come with us?”

“Of course not!”

“We’ll only be gone for about twenty minutes,” said Elena. “Either you come quietly, or we’ll have to restrain you. I’m sorry, but until you accept the terms of the Armistice Declaration, we don’t have any choice about letting you go.”

Edgar scowled at her, but she was obviously not backing down, so he opened the door and called to his wife. “Claire, I’m going down to the store for a second, okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he closed the door behind him, then locked it. He turned to the two interlopers. “Let’s go.”

Richard laid his hand on Edgar’s and Elena’s shoulders, then teleported them away.

CHAPTER 18

October 2021, Armistice Security Regional Chapterhouse, San Francisco, California

Edgar got to his feet when Ana stepped into the room. “Hello, Ms. Nizhoni. It’s been a long time.”

Ana tilted her head as she regarded him with narrowed eyes. “Have we met?”

FIRE.
“Yes. My son opened for you on the final Nightfall concert tour.”

“Jameson…wait, you’re Nick’s father?”

“Yes.”

“How is he doing?”

“He just graduated from high school, and is already trying to make a name for himself in the music business, along with one of his schoolmates, Scott Phillips.”

“Good for him.” She sat down at the table across from him. “But we’re here to talk about you.”

“What about me?”

“Mr. Jameson, I know this is a lot to take in, but I’m here to verify your acceptance of the terms of the Armistice Declaration of 2021, which was signed last month.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m sure you don’t. Essentially, the treaty boils down to five laws, which grew out of the truce across North America that has held more or less for the last seven months. Everything else is just details.”

“I’m listening.”

“You will take no human life. You will not kill, except in self-defense, defense of another, or in defense of your honor. You will not use magic on human beings with hostile intent without their consent. You also can’t feed except on what is freely offered, though that doesn’t really apply to you. And finally, you must accept the authority of the Triumvirate as the legitimate rulers of the Armistice Zone.”

“The Triumvirate?”

“A council made up of one representative from each of the Sentinel, Daywalker, and Nightwalker populations. Currently, the Triumvirate consists of Layla Magister Curallorn, who speaks for the Daywalkers; Takeshi Nakamura, the Wind of Earth, who speaks for the Sentinels; and Rory Brennigan, who is in charge of the Nightwalkers.”

Edgar blinked. “Rory Brennigan is a Sentinel. Hell, he’s the Wind of Air.”

“He’s also a Nightwalker.” She sighed. “It’s complicated. Suffice it to say, he’s something between Sentinel and Nightwalker, and it’s because of him that the Armistice became possible.”

“Pact Arcanum.”

“Yes.”

“What did he ask for?”

“The ability to raise the dead. What he got instead was the power to restore the soul, which coincidentally will cleanse a Nightwalker of the Red Wind and allow him to walk in the sunlight again.”

“I imagine that changed him,” whispered Edgar.

Ana’s expression darkened. “Yes, it did. He’s not the same man he was a year ago. Now they call him Sean Magister Jiao-long, the Redeemer, and that’s who he’s become. We don’t talk much anymore.”

His actions while controlled resulted in the destruction of a man I loved more than anyone else in the world.
Edgar wondered if this was what Takeshi was referring to. He could ask, but that would mean stepping back into their world. “So if I agree to your terms, then you’ll let me go back to my family and leave me alone. Is that correct?”

She nodded. “Well, there’s the Test of Reason, but I’m told you had a civilized conversation with a Daywalker, on your doorstep, before you even figured out what he was. That counts, as far as I’m concerned. So, the answer is yes. As long as you hold to the five laws, then you won’t hear from us again.”

“And if I refuse to answer?”

“That would be unfortunate. Compliance is mandatory within the Armistice Zone. We can’t make exceptions, or the entire truce will crumble. Technically, we’d have to either imprison or deport you immediately. It would rest on my judgment whether to allow you to take your family with you.”

“Then ask your questions, and let’s get this over with.”

Afterward, she teleported him home personally.

At the door he turned to face her one last time. “I have three children. One son I know is latent, and the others I can’t bear to test. Will they be hearing from you as well?”

 “Mr. Jameson, you should know that one of the lesser requirements of the treaty is that Nightwalkers continuously shield their auras when in public. If your son remains within the Armistice Zone, his Gift might never kindle. He could live out his life as a human.”

Edgar straightened. He nodded once. “I guess everything has a price.”

“Magic requires sacrifice.”

“That’s catchy.”

“It’s what the angel said to Rory during the Pact Arcanum.”

He stared at her for another moment, then turned away. “Good night, Lady. I hope you’ll understand if I don’t invite you in.”

CHAPTER 19

May 2024; Los Angeles, California

Edgar was tucking his younger son, Toby, into bed when he heard the voice in his mind.

“Brothers and sisters, I am Sean Magister Jiao-long, the Wind of Air. I am broadcasting this message to all Sentinels currently resident within the Armistice Zone. So far, we have avoided major skirmishes with the Court of Shadows over the disputed territory of North America, but all simulations indicate that a major offensive is imminent. We believe that we may be able to forestall this outcome, using a series of artifacts that have been manufactured at strategic sites throughout the Zone. These artifacts, when activated and linked to a central power source, will project a linked series of shield wards that we hope will be sufficient to surround our entire territory and secure our home from attack for the foreseeable future. The Armistice would then become unassailable, and the current state of peace could be maintained indefinitely.

“We must act quickly, however. Our sources in the Court hierarchy indicate that they are now aware of our plan and intend to move against us immediately. There may be sufficient Fire Sentinels and vampire spellcasters currently within the Zone to emplace the shield grid in one night, before the Court can marshal its forces. The Triumvirate therefore requires that all spellcasters above second rank assist in this endeavor. All other combat-capable citizens are required to assist in defense of the spellcasters, in case the Court attempts to eliminate them. I regret the necessity of your compliance, but there can be no exceptions to this requirement if we are to succeed. All Sentinels within the sound of my voice are hereby ordered to comply with the deployment instructions you will momentarily receive, on my authority as Wind of Air. Brothers and sisters, come and see.”

Edgar shuddered as the compulsion slammed into him.
God damn him for sheer arrogance. Who does he think he is?
His Gift gave him the silent and unalterable answer.
He’s Air, the lowest-ranked of the Four Winds, but still my master, like it or not.

A new voice spoke in his mind.
“Edgar Jameson, Los Angeles. I am Falchion, a second generation artificial intelligence in contractual service to Armistice Security. Signify your acceptance of the orders you have received. Verbal speech is not required.”

Yes, I agree, you bastards. Do I have a choice?

“No, Mr. Jameson, you have no choice at all, if the Armistice is to survive. State your level of power.”

Third rank.

“You are hereby ordered to report to Armistice Security Regional Headquarters in San Francisco, California. Your unit is tasked with stabilization of the energy flows that will power the shield grid of the western seaboard of the United States. Be advised that this group of spellcasters is of critical importance, and is therefore considered a primary target.”

Great. So I might not be coming back? How will you explain that to my family? Who will take care of them if I die tonight?

“The Triumvirate is not unsympathetic to your concerns. I have electronically issued a life insurance policy in your name in the amount of five hundred thousand US dollars, with the proceeds to be allocated to your dependents should you be killed or disabled during this operation.”