“...trouble obtaining certain of the properties at the price you wanted.” Landon Carter smiled the charming, well-kept smile that had gotten him the trust to get started and continued to get him trust as he skirted the edges of both legality and morality to get the most for himself and, according to his own words, his “most important client.”
Apollyon could remember before he had that smile, when he was a petty young man with a business degree and no idea how to use it. He’d come to Apollyon then, talked into it by “friends” while on a vacation. He’d seemed worth the chance to Apollyon then, but back then Apollyon hadn’t really needed someone to do everything he did now.
“You said there would be no trouble, that you had the perfect buyer lined up.” Apollyon stared at the fixer shown on his computer screen. That wasn’t his title, but it definitely was his job. A job he was only partly succeeding at now. Apollyon didn’t care about the money as long as there was enough of it but he definitely needed those particular plots of land. In many cases it could be one of several but there were a handful that were as small as a few meters on a side, which meant there was only one possible spot of land that could work.
“I did,” Landon agreed. “Unfortunately, he somehow attracted the attention of the FBI and they have everyone watching him; every single piece of property he’s tried to buy since the Taylor place has rejected the offer, even if they initially accepted it.”
“What about in other states?” Apollyon saw an uncomfortable look cross Landon’s face. “You didn’t have only one buyer, did you?”
“Uh…” Landon didn’t seem to want to answer the question. “You didn’t say anything about making them untraceable; they’re being handled by the same holding company. I didn’t think having more buyers would help and Mr. Morris really is good at buying properties for a good price. With the recent cost increases..”
Apollyon tuned out the man’s babbling. They both knew he’d set aside enough money; Landon just got to keep more of it if he didn’t spend it all. “Just make it happen.”
Apollyon reached up to leave the meeting, but stopped at the fixer’s next two words. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” It was the fixer’s job. He had the full parameters. “This isn’t that hard. We worked out options that were on the market and some contingencies for most of them. You just have to do the legwork to get it done.”
“Some of them won’t sell.” Landon looked down, away from the camera. “Rebecca and Carl Taylor. Cole Rogers. Elliott and Brielle Perkins. Clarissa Latimer. Vincent Peterson. Those are the names of the people who won’t sell. They’re - well, two of them are on spots where you said only one house would do. The other five each have at least one other option but it’s not selling either. There’s a nursing home, a car dealership, a gas station, and a fire station that I’m trying to work around; the fire station is the one that meant we needed the Taylors’ house instead…”
Landon’s words disappeared into the meaningless noise they really were as the mana that powered almost all of the enchantments in Apollyon’s home stuttered and failed. Apollyon pushed his chair away from the desk and abandoned the conversation; yes, it was important for his next ascension, but that was a plan that was several years away from coming together. This was a problem now.
As he ran, Apollyon relaxed his hold on the illusions that made himself appear human. If he was somehow having issues with his false nexus, he might need the mana later.
The nexus room was both hidden and protected; Apollyon didn’t plan to be in there often, so he’d made it hard to get to. It was inconvenient now but it had literally saved his life in the past. Without his false nexus, he would long since be dead.
He passed lock after lock and door after door before he came to the sequence of hidden passageways that would get him to the actual nexus. They were at least fast to get into if you knew the trick, but he still made certain to close them all after himself. The last thing he needed to do was to leave his defenses open and let someone else find out about them.
When he finally reached the site of the false nexus, Apollyon expected to see some damage or sign of an attack. Perhaps there had been an earthquake; that had happened before. He hadn’t felt one, but he could have missed a weak one. Even a minor shift could break the enchantment that allowed his false nexus to power everything.
His hopes and expectations were foiled when he arrived at a completely intact reinforced chamber. It was far lower in mana than it ever had been since he’d originally established it all those centuries or more ago. The small reserve that handled the enchantment interface wasn’t just empty; the crystal had actually cracked. Could this day get any worse?
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
It looked like the enchanter who designed it hadn’t allowed for this situation. Well, that was too late to fix. It had served for a very long time; he’d have to make another. It wasn’t like this was the first one to fail; they generally only lasted a few decades anyway.
The fact that the source was dry was another matter entirely. That had never happened; the Gate drawing the mana in had never closed. Apollyon took another look and saw that, in fact, it still wasn’t closed. There was a slight glow of mana from the other side.
Was A’Atla really no longer surrounded by mana? It had been such a good source of mana ever since the Moon of Magic was placed on its surface. Apollyon wished he’d thought of that; he had no idea who did, since it was while he was locked away in Tartarus, but it made everything he’d done since then possible.
The only way Apollyon could think of for that to happen was if someone destroyed the Moon of Magic on A’Atla’s surface, but how it happened wasn’t important compared to that it had happened. Some modern weapons were strong enough to blast holes in a mountain; the Moon might well shatter if there was a strike on it.
Whatever it was, mana wasn’t coming through the Gate. What was coming through was a smell that Apollyon hadn’t smelled in years. It permeated the small amount of mana that was coming through, the smell of demons. Demons that definitely didn’t serve Apollyon.
The strange smell he’d noticed earlier was definitely a demon lord. That was the only way there could be this many demons here. Apollyon didn’t know how that happened. He also didn’t care. All of the demons on Earth were his!
They always had been. He’d killed all of his competitors a very long time ago and he’d kill whoever was trying to bring in new demons to compete with him. There was a reason he was called the Father of Monstrosities. All monsters were HIS.
Apollyon grabbed his main reserve. It was full; this would destroy it. He also wouldn’t have any more mana coming now that he couldn’t get it from A’Atla. That didn’t matter, as long as he could destroy the demons that weren’t his.
No, one wasn’t enough. He’d use one to force A’Atla to sink again, just like last time. The others would be useful to call the demon he’d use to get it to the temple. The Gate was still open; that would work. He’d want to close the Gate afterwards, but it wasn’t like it was worth anything now that A’Atla’s nexus was gone.
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Serenity had to walk back to A’Atla. Well, slide, really. He only had to get to any entrance, at least, which was nice.
The moment he got in range of any of the network repeaters, he knew it. He got at least a dozen text messages and several missed calls. Serenity didn’t even stop moving or check how many there were; he called Rissa. She had to be concerned.
“You’re back already?” Rissa’s words didn’t sound nearly as worried as he’d expected. If anything, she seemed surprised that he was early.
Serenity pulled up his clock. It had been less than fifteen minutes since the shell closed; how could it have been so little time? He’d used almost that long to get back to A’Atla. No wonder she wasn’t too terribly worried. Between her foresight and the short period of time, she probably didn’t feel like she had to be worried. “Yeah. Is everyone fine? Are you still in the watch room?”
“No. There’s too much happening on the surface with the lightning storm; we left almost immediately after you vaporized.” Rissa chuckled. “Samantha tried to comfort your parents; I’m pretty sure she thinks they’re in denial since they weren’t worried. I’m looking forward to seeing her reaction when she sees you. I-”
Rissa stopped, then spoke in an urgent voice. “I see something. Stone shattering in light; it looks familiar, the stone is in layers. Darkness is behind it, followed by a claw, then a clawed fist as it breaks through and out. Teeth and claws shine in the light, they draw the light in and it vanishes into darkness. Darkness moves through the corridors, eating the light; it climbs to the surface, followed by an explosion of darkness across the surface. I don’t know what that means.”
Stone in layers sounded like the protection they’d put over the drain; Serenity definitely didn’t want that broken, but he probably couldn’t stop something from coming out from the inside. He had no idea how something could have survived in that room, but he supposed he’d find out after it broke out. The real problem, however, was the toxic atmosphere.
Serenity could probably manage the atmosphere, but he couldn’t go close to the drain safely. They’d have to seal the way behind whatever broke out to deal with the contamination and he’d have to kill it once it was away from the sphere. Serenity was completely unhappy about that but it was really the only option.
He stopped running long enough to open some doors near the sphere; he couldn’t relock a wall that was smashed through, but if whatever it was went through an open door, he could have A’Atla close it and seal it. Serenity locked one of the doors open; the last thing he wanted was for A’Atla to sense the toxic material, close the door, and force the clawed thing to go through it.
Serenity started sliding forward as quickly as he could go; he wanted to be near the breach when it happened.
He wasn’t there when a section of A’Atla’s map appeared in front of him, translucent but covered in red. The entire section he’d opened was inundated with toxic, unbreathable air. There was no indication of where the thing was, but Serenity did still have the cameras they’d used for the watch party; maybe Aide could figure it out while Serenity kept running.