The fog grew to its typical size, and the center of it was now slightly illuminated. A silhouette was outlined against the light and moved forward with determined steps toward the edge of the cloud. The light and fog disappeared, revealing a man who was wearing a white coat that reached down below his knees. He was tall with a strong physique and long, smooth, fire-red hair that would be the envy of any Minor. Beneath his pointed nose and framed by a perfectly trimmed goatee, Diago recognized the slightly twisted mouth that seemed to be shaped in a peculiar half-smile. The man took in his surroundings.
“I don’t believe it!” exclaimed Diago. “Asius? Who did you piss off for them to send you here?”
Asius turned to Diago, a broad smile on his face.
“I’ve just come to show you how things are done since you can’t be trusted on your own,” joked Asius.
They hugged one another enthusiastically.
“It’s good to see you,” said Diago, still holding Asius by the shoulders and shaking him gently. “But maybe I shouldn’t be so excited about seeing a member of the Council. Is there a problem?”
“I’ll tell you if I survive your greeting!” Diago released him and Asius pretended to be catching his breath. “I’m glad to see you, too. It’s been a long time. And I trust you see me as a friend and not a Counselor.”
“You know I do. Don’t act all offended with me.” Diago’s state of mind improved greatly as he chatted with his old friend. “Let’s go to my room so you can bring me up to date. How are things in the Nest?”
A shadow—though almost imperceptible—came over Asius’s face and Diago knew something was worrying him. They left the circular room and hurried down the hallway toward Diago’s room. Asius closed the heavy wooden door behind them and sat down as his host joined him with a bottle and two glasses.
“You have to try this wine.” Diago was trying to delay the moment he would have to share with his old friend the burden he was carrying. He needed just a few moments of peace spent in a conversation about trivialities. There would be plenty of time left for discussing problems. “Since you came all this way . . .”
“I have very little time.” Asius looked preoccupied as he took a sip of the wine. “Mmm . . . Good wine. Sorry to be so abrupt but I have to get back before they notice I’m gone.”
“They don’t know you’ve come here?” Diago’s glass stopped midway to his mouth. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s rather complicated. I’ll try to explain it to you, but you have to realize I’m not at liberty to reveal everything that happens in the Council. Much of it is confidential.”Asius set the glass on the table and sighed heavily. “Honestly, I don’t have authorization to be here. They forbade me—explicitly—to intervene.”
“Who forbade you?” It was an absurd question. Asius was a member of the Council, the ruling body. Only three Justices were above him in the hierarchy. Unless . . . “Is there news from the Elder?”
“No, nothing. His location is still unknown.” Diago’s fleeting hope immediately disappeared. “It was the Justices, or more specifically, one of them—Ergon—who forbade it, but the other two always seem to agree with him. For the last few years it’s as if Ergon governs alone. His will is always imposed.”
“What does he have against you?” A wave of confusion was swirling in Diago’s mind. Ergon was a prominent leader, certainly the most important one of all since the Elder had disappeared. How was it possible that Asius had issues with him?
“He doesn’t have anything against me personally, just against any opinion that differs from his own. He’s becoming authoritarian.” Diago noted a bit of resentment in Asius’s voice. “He isn’t the Elder; none of us is.”
“He is the wisest one of us.” Diago couldn’t believe Asius was talking like that about one of the Justices, and least of all, Ergon. He was suddenly unsure if he wanted to continue the conversation. “Who better to lead us until the Elder returns?”
“If he returns.” Asius’s penetrating glare was locked on his friend. “Come on, don’t look at me like that. You really haven’t ever considered that possibility? As long as we don’t know any more than we do, we should prepare ourselves for the worst—just in case.”
“You are completely out of your mind!” Diago stood up, awash in a sudden flash of fury. It took just one quick, powerful sweep of an arm, and a shower of wooden splinters rained down when the chair he’d been sitting in smashed against the wall behind them. Asius remained unaffected. “I can’t believe . . .” Diago remembered who he was talking to and immediately felt ashamed. “I . . . I beg your forgiveness. I don’t know what got into me. Not only are you a Counselor, you’re my friend. I wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for you. It’s just . . .”
Diago sat down, his mind flooding with the recollection of why he owed his life to the person he’d just accused of being crazy.
It had happened during the War. Diago was fighting on the third level of the Citadel, along with three other Guardians. Behind them was a stone door, nine feet high, that separated them from a deserted room. Inside it, a simple, bone-colored sphere with runes sculpted all over its surface was resting on a six-and-a-half-foot high marble pedestal. The doors of the Citadel obeyed the sphere’s decrees and controlling it was, as they had discovered too late, their enemy’s objective.
They could hear the clamor of a bloody battle on the levels above and below them. The air had turned heavy, flooded with the penetrating odor of blood and death. Fear gripped the faces of everyone near Diago. For the majority of them, accepting that death could touch them—and at the hands of their own brothers—was impossible to comprehend.
Diago studied the wide hallway that stretched out before them. It was exposed, confined by neither walls nor a ceiling, and the battle had already left its ghastly mark there. Cracks of different widths and lengths scored the corridor like wounds on a giant arm. Plumes of smoke rose up in some sections of the hallway, and far too many twisted bodies were scattered about. Trails of blood ran toward the edges, and the wind had sprinkled ruby-colored droplets all over the gruesome scene.
“In formation!” ordered Enara, the leader of their group.
Diago took his place in the line and saw the faces of the four men approaching him. He knew every one of them. And he was going to kill them. Four against four.
“Get away from that door and we’ll let you go,” shouted the first one of them.
“Never,” refused Enara. “You will not get—”
Before he could finish the sentence, the Guardian that was to Diago’s left, his friend and brother, took a step forward, then turned and cut off Enara’s head with a savage, well-aimed slash of his sword. The beautiful head of the person that had taught Diago so much tumbled to the floor, rolled toward the edge, and fell into emptiness. A new traitor was unmasked and the four against four became two against five.
Diago and his only ally could barely hold off the brutal assault of their adversaries. They retreated until their backs were against the heavy doors, trying desperately to keep the others from surrounding them. The overwhelming disparity in their numbers kept them on the defensive. Diago managed to take down one of the enemies in the exact moment when a muffled scream reached his ears. A gush of warm blood splattered him and he saw the body of his companion fall at his feet, his right arm completely severed. He blocked a blow aimed at his head but a bone-crushing punch in the stomach dropped him to his knees.
“I want your head,” said the one that had killed Enara.
In spite of the fact that he was only a step away from Diago, his voice sounded far off, muted by the uncontrolled beating of Diago’s heart. The moments that followed were a blur. He’d been convinced that this was the end when something came crashing down on his enemies. Diago was struck in the shoulder and fell back against the door. Someone moved very quickly in front of him, then something warm again splattered his face as he heard the sound of breaking bones. When he cleaned the blood from his eyes and face with the back of his hand, Asius’s concerned face was studying his.
“Are you all right, Diago?”
He didn’t answer him. He struggled to stand up and saw three more dead bodies behind Asius. The fourth attacker, the traitor that had decapitated Enara, ran off down the hallway.
From that moment on, Diago felt extremely close to Asius. He admired him for his combat skills, and he was more pleased than anyone when, after the War, the Elder had promoted Asius to the rank of Counselor.
He must have misunderstood what Asius was saying, and he hoped with all his heart that Asius wouldn’t hold his momentary loss of control against him. He looked at him, unable to find the right words to apologize.
“Don’t worry,” the Counselor calmly reassured him. “Surely it was my fault. The Elder’s disappearance has affected all of us and I shouldn’t pour out my worries on you.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“On the contrary.” Diago felt relieved there were no hard feelings. “You did more for me that I ever deserved. I owe you. You can count on me for whatever you need. But do you really think the Elder isn’t coming back? That’s hard to believe.”
“No, I don’t think that. But I do hope he comes back as soon as possible from wherever he is.” A shadow came over Asius’s face again and Diago shifted nervously in his seat. Anything that was capable of worrying the Counselor couldn’t be good.
“But,” Asius went on, “we should prepare ourselves in case it’s a long time before he does. Something unsettling has happened in the Nest. A group of one hundred Minors somehow managed to get to the threshold and two Guardians annihilated them.” Diago looked horrified. “No—it wasn’t intentional. They thought our old enemy had returned, and they reacted accordingly.”
“But how is it possible that the Minors can travel to our plane? That’s rather unlikely.” Diago forced himself to stay calm. “Maybe they were Travelers?”
“No, they weren’t Travelers. We’re still not clear on how it happened, but it seems the Minors didn’t know where they were going. They simply found a portal and crossed it. The question is how they could do it without a Traveler. There are those who think the Wave left that portal open. It’s impossible to cross the Fog without a Traveler, and it’s not possible the Minors have a Traveler among them. Only an immortal can be a Traveler. And then there’s the problem of the light.”
“So, you don’t believe the explanation that the Wave left the portal open.” Diago read the doubt on his face. “Just tell me. What do you think really happened?”
“I think,” Asius said slowly and deliberately, “we should at least consider the possibility that an enemy Traveler opened the portal for them. It’s just conjecture, but it’s the most logical explanation.”
“I’m stunned,” murmured Diago. He was having a hard time absorbing the shocking news. “Let’s suppose for a moment you’re right. Why would the enemy send one hundred Minors? That would only serve to alert us to a breach in the Fog.”
“I admit I haven’t come up with a logical explanation for that. Maybe it was just a test, or something went wrong. I honestly don’t know. But this is where the problems with Ergon started. I don’t think it’s right to wait and see what our old enemies are plotting since we know all too well what they’re capable of.”
“They’re locked away, Asius. Your fears are irrational.”
“Really? If the Minors could get to our plane, why couldn’t they? The Wave must have affected the three planes equally. It doesn’t make sense that it only affected us and the Minors.”
“Even so, they lost the War,” insisted Diago. “They won’t try again.”
“That’s what Ergon says. They have our hands tied with their policy of not interfering with the Minors. I think we should do something besides watching from down here. “Asius glanced subtly at Diago.
“Oh, no, no, no. Are you asking me to disobey an order from the Council? I can’t interfere either, other than to capture Raven.”
“You can find out what the Minors know about the portal . . . if they discovered it on their own or if the enemy showed it to them.”
“My orders are definitive and that goes against them, too. You know that perfectly well. I can’t even let Vyns continue his search for Wyn, and I’m guessing you know what he felt for her.”
Asius nodded. “I know. So, there still hasn’t been any sign of her?”
“I haven’t looked for her, to be honest. I adhere to the Council’s orders, which means—”
“I wouldn’t ask you if there were any other way. I’m fighting with Ergon to let me seal off our plane against anyone and anything that isn’t one of us and to let me test the Citadel’s defenses. I need you to find out if the Minors have something to do with the enemy. Think about it; if Ergon and you are right, you’ll only have lost a little time. But if I’m right . . .”
Diago thought about his request. On the one hand, what Asius was saying was definitely logical and he really did want to help his friend. But it meant disobeying a direct order from the Council—and Diago trusted them completely.
“I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything,” conceded Diago. “I’ll do it for you, and our friendship. And I expect your support if things go badly.”
“You’ll have it, you can be sure of it. Now, for the second matter that brought me here. How is Raven’s capture going?”
Diago’s face fell as he told Asius all the details of the pursuit. He suffered through the bitter tale, through the sting of having to admit he’d failed and that death had taken another one of their own. The Counselor’s face was pained when he heard that Edmon had died.
“I’m so sorry about his death. We will pay him the tribute he deserves,” assured Asius solemnly.
“We’ll catch Raven soon, I promise,” vowed Diago determinedly. “He won’t surprise us again now that we know what he’s capable of.”
“How will you find him?”
“We know he’s in London. Sooner or later he’ll use his extraordinary abilities and we’ll pick up on it. There’s no other way without interfering directly in the Minors’ lives.”
“He can feel our presence, too. That’s how he’s escaped so many times. But maybe . . . do you remember how close you were a few years ago? If I’m remembering correctly, a Runner surprised him and Raven hadn’t detected him.” Diago did recall the situation Asius was talking about. They had thought it was going to be the simplest mission imaginable. The Runner had him in his hands, confident he’d finally captured him—and then they’d discovered that Raven wasn’t like anyone else. He’d shaken off the Runner and had vanished in a flash, moving faster than they’d ever seen a mortal move.
“If you get a Runner to chain his hands and feet, he can’t escape,” added Asius.
“I don’t think simple shackles will stop him.” Diago found the suggestion odd coming from someone as intelligent as Asius. He wanted to tell him that he didn’t know what Raven was capable of, the same way Vyns had rubbed his face in it, reminding him of how little time he’d spent among the Minors. He would have to try not to sound arrogant. “I’ve seen him break out of tougher spots.”
“I’m not talking about chains the Minors use; I’m talking about the ones we use,” said Asius, as if it should have been obvious. “Do you know anyone capable of breaking those? If we can’t, he can’t.”
“I get it. A Runner . . . and chains.” A twinge of doubt crept into Diago’s mind. “Undoubtedly two good suggestions . . . It sounds like you know quite a bit about Raven.” Diago couldn’t contain himself. “You Counselors know who Raven is and what’s special about him, don’t you?” Asius didn’t answer, but his guilty expression was impossible to miss. “You have to tell me what you know about him. Edmon died, and I’m not about to lose anyone else. You should have warned us about Raven. Does he have something to do with the Wave?”
“I can’t tell you anything else,” said Asuis apologetically. “The Council has classified all information about Raven. I’ve told you as much as I can, but you should know that his capture is top priority and the Council will reveal the reason why at the appropriate time.”
Diago was incensed. Vyns’s complaints about the Council rushed back into his mind and he finally felt like he understood how he’d felt. It was infinitely clearer now that Raven played a role of serious magnitude in all this since the Council wouldn’t classify information without a good reason. He must be tied to the Wave somehow. Was he also tied to the Elder’s disappearance? Probably not. Little by little he recognized that familiar sensation of having to contend with issues above his comprehension and his rank. The anger was fading and confidence in his superiors flooded back in like a comforting blanket of warmth. He would take Raven to the Council and they would know what to do with him.
The door to his room opened suddenly and Vyns shot in.
“Diago! You have to see this—” Vyns looked confused to see Asius in the room. He was breathing heavily. “Oh, I didn’t know you were busy,” he apologized.
“It’s all right, Vyns. I’m Asius. We’ve just finished.”
“It’s a honor to meet someone from the Council,” said Vyns, showing he’d recognized him.
“What was so urgent?” asked Diago, intrigued.
“It’s about Raven. I think I know how to find him. You have to come see this.”
They followed Vyns to the circular room where Edmon’s body was resting. Diago was seized by excitement. If there really was a way to find Raven, he could make amends for his failures sooner than he’d expected, and he would be the one to determine the best time to apprehend him instead of having to resign himself to waiting it out until Raven made a mistake. Asius was walking in silence, completely focused on Vyns. It was clear that he, too, had had his curiosity piqued.
“I was preparing Edmon for his transfer,” explained Vyns. He knelt before Edmon’s body and lifted Edmon’s right hand with the palm turned up. The glass case that had been covering him was on the floor, off to one side. “I don’t understand how I missed this detail. I guess I was blinded by grief. . .” he said, his voice faltering. Look carefully at his hand.”
Asius and Diago leaned toward Edmon’s hand, their heads almost bumping together. Some very faint lines, almost imperceptible, crossed his pallid palm. On extremely close observation, Diago could see how the natural creases in the skin were slightly distorted where the lines crossed. It took a few seconds more but, after he’d examined the lines again, Diago thought he understood what Vyns was trying to show them.
“Could it be?” said Diago, completely engrossed.
“A rune,” acknowledged Asius.
“I think Edmon managed to mark that bastard. We’ll be able to track Raven and catch up with him, and it will all be thanks to Edmon,” said Vyns, clinging to the idea that his friend hadn’t died in vain.
“Have you tried it yet?” asked Diago.
“Not yet, but that’s why I came to get you. I figured you’d want to be here.”
“Well, try it right now.”
Vyns snapped his fingers and a bluish-green flame shot out of the end of his index finger. He bent down and slid his flaming finger over the floor, spanning a rectangular area about the size of a pool table. His finger moved skillfully over the floor, leaving a trail of flames in its wake. Diago waited patiently as the blazing lines fused together, giving life to the symbol that was drawn on the dead man’s palm.
“Now we’ll know if Edmon managed to mark him,” said Vyns after observing the burning rune from several angles.
Vyns closed his eyes and stretched out his arm. His forehead creased under the strain as his fingers moved into numerous positions. After several long seconds, a five-foot flame rose into the air three inches above the blue green symbol on the floor. His fingers moved again and another flame joined with the first. The fire was getting more intense. Finally, a silent bonfire was floating over the entire rune, its undulating light reflected on their faces.
The dancing flames began to mix together and then separate, constantly changing form. They twirled and twisted, shrinking and growing until they began to take shape. Little by little the fire shifted from yellow to red and showed them the flickering image of a person lying face up. His face became more defined as the flames stopped swaying from side to side.
“It’s Raven,” said Vyns, opening his eyes.
Diago could see he was right. The shape of his facial features made it clear, especially the large nose. The fire continued to take shape and soon all the details were perfectly defined.
“He’s in an ambulance,” explained Diago. “Gordon will take him to a hospital, I imagine. He’s ours.”
“The object on the floor of the ambulance, is it what I think it is?” asked Asius.
“It’s Edmon’s weapon,” confirmed Diago. “That’s why Vyns didn’t find it. The Minors must have picked it up when they got Raven. But they won’t know how to use it. They won’t even know what it is.”
“Well, it’s clear you can locate him,” agreed Asius. “Choose your moment and remember what I told you about the Runners and the chains,” he instructed Diago. “Don’t wait too long. Who knows if he’ll be able to wipe out the rune.”
“Don’t worry,” assured Diago. “This time Raven will not escape.”
Vyns didn’t hear Diago give him the order to get everything prepared. He continued staring into the fire, his lips curved up in a pointed smile.
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