12 - A magical threat

There’s a direction, in the Else, that shouldn’t exist. It doesn’t map to any axis in the Material World, but most mages describe it as down, or deeper.

Most mages skim the surface of the Else. Only with time and training they learn how to go deeper - and most do so only rarely, with great caution. For there’s great power in the deep Else, but also terrible risks.

Some unlucky few, however, have an instinctive ability to go deeper into the Else.

Any mage manifesting this power must be immediately taught control by a specialist, before they endanger their lives, and everyone else’s.

- from ‘the Mentor’s book on magic’, by Archmage Irillion

We’re still waiting for any sign of Korentis or xir friend, when we get our first real emergency. A siren blares through the whole base, and red notifications fill the edges of my sight. I blink to open the highest priority one.

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CODE ORANGE - ONGOING MAGICAL EVENT - POTENTIAL HARM TO PERSONS

Event origin: single human mage - unknown signature

Intensity: level 0.8 - 1.5

Modulation: unstable

Information: highly fluctuating signal. Suspected risk of catastrophic loss of control.

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We stand still for a moment as we read the notification. Catastrophic loss of control. Or like most people call it, going nova. One of the most dangerous situations ThauCon agents can face – all my instructors spoke with horror of nova risk management.

“Holy Navigator, show us the way,” Sorivel mumbles.

“Well, it’s on our watch,” Kaelich says, without any trace of his usual cheer. “Let’s go.”

We put on our helmets and rush to the hangar.

“Althea, are you ready?” Kaelich asks.

“I’m already at the hangar,” she answers, unusually curt. “Hurry up.”

We run along the snowy walkway, Sorivel’s drones buz around us, and get into the quad-copter as it’s warming its engines. Aeniki’s voice reaches while we’re securing the harnesses.

“Mission control here.” she says. “We have intel from a man who claims to be the mage’s father. Apparently, they had a minor argument at home, the son - aged seventeen - got very angry, and suddenly stuff started floating all around him. Apparently, the boy was as surprised as the father, but couldn’t stop the magic. He got scared, and some stuff exploded. Now he’s shut in his room, screaming at the parents to stay out.”

Sareas joins the channel. “LT here. Corporal Kaelich, Team Green will be geared up in five minutes. Do you need their backup?”

We don’t. There’s no need for more firepower, or greater numbers, to deal with an unstable mage.

What is needed is a rifleman willing to shoot. And that’s what Sareas is asking.

Kaelich waits a short time.

“Nova risk is time critical,” he says. “We deploy now.”

A pause. Sareas could overrule xem, of course, but after asking, it wouldn’t be great etiquette.

“Good luck, Team Blue,” he says, somber. “Corporal Kaelich has field command. Specialist Corporal Aeniki has mission control. I’ll coordinate the evacuation efforts.”

I finish my equipment checklist, then close my eyes and summon a city map. The signal comes from a middle-class residential neighborhood. We’ll be there in three minutes.

“I know there’s a way to drag mages out from the Else,” Sorivel says, reluctantly. “Can you do that, Althea?”

“No,” she answers, “that shit is for Folders. I’m a Juggler and Maker - meaning I can float stuff, move stuff, and create Else-glass. I’m great at those things, but that’s about it.”

A moment of pause, then she adds. “I’m sorry. I’d do it if I could.”

“Let’s go over the operating procedure,” Kaelich says.

“We know the operating procedure, ser” Sorivel answers.

“Let’s do it anyway,” Kaelich repeats, tense. It’s strange to see xem so serious and focused - but it’s good to know xe can take xir job seriously. “Cerical and Althea will approach the mage. You’ll try to calm him, try to make him leave the Else and follow us willingly. Sorivel and I will set up in the best position we find to shoot him, if necessary.”

“You should know I’m… not always the best at talking to people,” I say.

Kaelich doesn’t acknowledge, but xe doesn’t contradict me, either.

“I’ll try to do the talking,” Althea says. I’m not sure how much better that is, since she’s impatient and loves making threats. But on the other hand, she’s living proof that mages can turn themselves in and stay alive.

“I’m sending you the building’s plans,” Aeniki says, unusually helpful. “The mage is still active. There are reports of vibrations, fire alarms and vivid hallucinations throughout the building. He’s in an internal room, with no windows and no walls facing outside.”

I blink and accept the file. It’s a three-room apartment: a common room facing the outside, the parent’s bedroom, and the boy’s. His room has no window.

“I’ll take position on the opposite roof, but it’s a very bad setup,” Kaelich says, “the only possible line of fire I can get is through the door. Try to make the boy move into the living room as soon as possible.”

“Maybe I can send Determination in his room through the ventilation system,” Sorivel adds. “I can’t tell for sure from this map.”

“Negative,” Kaelich answers, “Your combat drone would terrify the boy, and can’t do anything useful except stab him. Just position your sniper drone outside, maybe you can get a firing line. Cerical wll go in.”

I know the truth, and so do they - if I can get the mage to the living room, it will mean the mage is cooperating anyway. So, Kaelich will be basically useless. If the mage doesn’t cooperate, or can’t, it will fall to me and Althea to… deal with him.

“The room is small,” I say. “I’ll stand by the door and talk to him. If his magic goes into spiraling loss of control, I can cross in under a second and kill him.”

“That’s probably our best chance,” Kaelich agrees. “But if he calms down a bit, you can just slap silver shackles on him.”

“Remember, no theta grenades, for any reason,” Sareas says, even if he was supposed to leave the mission to Kaelich and Aeniki. “They can trigger sudden LOC. And keep in mind that your first duty is to stop him from going nova. We can’t evacuate the whole building, and even if we did - he’s on the fifth floor. Your armor won’t protect you if the building collapses.”

Stolen story; please report.

“Acknowledged, LT. I’ll do my duty,” I say, irrationally annoyed that Sareas felt the need to remind us of things every first year cadet already knows. “Until the war is won, and the sky is mended.”

***

“Blue leader here,” Kaelich’s voice buzzes in the channel. “I’ve taken position on the roof. Full view on the apartment’s living room. Partial view on the closed door. No line of fire on target.”

“Mission control here,” Aeniki follows right after. “I confirm the apartment’s been evacuated. We convinced the mage’s parents to leave. We’re trying to evacuate the whole building, but we don’t have a reliable headcount yet. Magical activity is still unstable, rising in intensity, but not yet critical.”

“Blademaster here,” I say, “I’m standing by the apartment’s door with Mage Althea. I Confirm the door is open. Awaiting order to proceed.”

“Drone here,” Sorivel checks in, at last., “I’ve taken position in the nearby alley. I have recon drones outside the building. Jus… sorry, sniper drone has a view on the living room. Articulated combat drone is trying to reach the subject’s room through ventilation ducts, just in case. ETA six minutes.”

Six minutes - too much, and we all know. I look at Althea and we nod. We’re alone, for every purpose.

She raises her hands, entirely disincarnated into light, and small, glowing green blocks form all around her, combining into something like blocky glass armor.

“Team leader to blademaster and mage,” Kaelich says. “Proceed and be careful. Mission Control, stay alert for any sign of critical instability, and give immediate warning.”

Althea nods and flicks her hand. There’s an emerald flash, and the apartment door opens violently, as if kicked by a giant. It stops soundlessly instead of crashing against the wall.

Past the door, we find ourselves in a clean, cozy living room - a wide sofa, a VR gaming station, a wide windowed terrace, a stuffed dog bed.

I never lived in a house anywhere this nice. No one does, in Zelenia. I feel a vicious, bitter stab of envy and resentment at the boy who had this much and is now throwing a tantrum which could collapse the building.

It doesn’t matter, and I’m being unfair. It couldn’t be less of his fault, that he got upset, tried to sulk like every teenager ever, and the Else started pouring into the world through him. And yet, these people are so rich, but they don’t even notice.

We walk through the closed door. Warnings flash into my visor - bursts of theta activity. Orange sparkles glint around the door, and colors have a strange tinge. Despite the silver in the suit, my weight shifts subtly and Althea’s hair stands up.

I hear noises coming from the boy’s room, like furniture being tussled about, and strangled crying.

“I see him,” Althea whispers, her tone urgent. “This isn’t good. He’s attracting… things. He must calm down.”

If we were raiding a normal rogue mage, my path of action would be clear - countdown, kick the door open, theta grenade, slap manacles on the target. Surprise is our most effective weapon, along with silver.

It goes against all of my training to announce myself and talk, knowing there’s an active mage past the door.

At least I should prepare myself. Let’s see what information Aeniki could dredge up about the boy. I subvocalize a Stemlink command.

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Query: target data

Response: Vakris Sevelet - 17 yo male - born Rakavdon - attending Deikivar high school, art curriculum. No criminal record. No known medical condition. Recent breakup. Argument with family was about his art college enrollment.

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“Vakris,” I call through the door, “are you there?”

No answer from the inside, but the whimpering stops for a moment.

“Who is there?” A whiny voice asks. “Are you real?”

“I’m here to help you,” I say, trying to smooth the edges of my usual tone. “Can I come in?”

“No! Don’t come!” the mage screams. “Go away! All of you go away!”

I look at Althea. A fleck of green light burns in her pupils, and she pulls back from the door, mouth agape. She looks scared.

“There’s only two of us,” I say, trying to be reassuring. I noticed that animals and small children run away from me when I do that, but he’s a teenager, so he’ll be reasonable, right?

“We can help you,” I press. “We have silver. It will keep you safe from the Else.”

“Are you ThauCon?” He asks, even more scared. “I didn’t want this! Shit, I don’t know what happened! I don’t want to go to the camps!”

“You won’t go to the camps!” Althea interjects. “Don’t worry, we can help you! But you must let us in!”

There’s a strange edge to her voice - I’d say she’s as scared as the boy. Lord of Pains, what is happening?

“We’ll come in, and help you,” Althea goes on, talking too fast. “You’ll get your tattoos, and you'll be free by this evening.”

I look at her - she lied. Even in the best possible case, the tattooing process takes several days, and an unstable mage usually needs to learn basic control first, or he could burn his own arms. Althea isn’t one to sugarcoat anything - what’s wrong? Aeniki would tell us if he were going nova right this moment, right?

“I don’t want tattoos!” Vakris screams. “I just want to go to college, and they’ll never pick me if I have the silver tats! I’ll never use magic, I swear! Never again! I hate it! Can’t you just stop it?”

Althea raises a hand, moves a finger in midair, leaving an Else-light trail. At first I think she’s making the glyphs for a spell, but no, she’s writing.

She spells a single word in midair:

'DEMONS'

“Don’t worry,” I say, keeping my voice calm, even if I feel like I’ve been plunged into icy water. “You can get into whatever college, even with tattoos. You can do anything, really. But you’re in danger now. I’ll open the door.”

“No! If I open the door, they’ll get out! They’re looking at me! Send them away!” he begs. Theta alarms blare as he pronounces the word away. The whole apartment rattles, cracks form on the windows.

“Peaks of instability are getting larger and more frequent,” Aenik informs us. “He’ll go nova soon.”

“Vakris, I’m a Council mage,” Althea says, without any attempt at being soothing, now. “It’s not the end of the world, but something really bad is happening now. Don’t listen to the voices. Take deep breaths. Keep your fists balled and don’t move your arms. They can’t hurt you if you ignore them.”

“I… they’re closer, they watch me, I…” Vakris says, his voice breaking.

“I’m coming in,” Althea says.

She pushes her hand forward, palm open, and then jerks it back, as if pulling something. A hook of green light blinks into existence, and it yanks the wooden door off its hinges. I flinch as the door flies over our heads and crashes against the opposite window, shattering it.

The kid’s room is small and messy, bathed in orange light, as if lit by an invisible fire.

It’s not the regular tidy up your room kind of messy. It looks as if a typhoon has blown inside. A desk lies broken in half, torn books and gutted pillows are scattered all over the room, even floating in midair. Posters and clothes and notebooks have been torn to shreds and cast in every direction.

There’s a boy sitting on the bed, curled in a ball, with his head pressed against his knees, and hands over his ears. His t-shirt has been cut to ribbons, and he looks like he’s been slashed by a dozen invisible knives, except no blood comes from the cuts - only burning orange light.

His hands have no flesh left, they’re made of orange Else-glass. It looks like we’re underwater - everything floats, everything is bathed in warm light coming from nowhere.

Having seen Althea while she uses magic, I can tell something is very, very wrong here. The light from the boy’s fingers flickers, and as I watch, new slashes open along his neck and arms, bleeding light.

“Team leader here, I’ve still no line of fire,” Kaelich says, xir voice surprisingly calm. “Bind him in silver or kill him, Ceri - but quick”.

“Take a deep breath,” I command, and my hands reach for my sword, but my stomach knots up, and I take the silver handcuffs instead. I can do it. I’m sure. “Now I’ll walk to you, and I’ll…”

“There’s a storm,” the mage says, and he raises his head, looking at me - his face is a mess of regular skin and glowing orange stripes. “A storm. Don’t you see it? It’s everywhere!”

Ah, fuck it. I subvocalize the command Rush, and the suit injects me with a dose of adrenaline. I lunge toward Vakris, manacles ready. His eyes go wide, he puts his arms in front of himself, as if to push me away. Orange lightning explodes from his fingers--no, not lightning. It’s like the air between us is tearing apart.

A green flash, a sharp pop, and a barrier of Else-glass cuts the space between me and the mage. The orange light clashes against it, and the barrier cracks, but doesn’t break.

“Don’t fight, fucking idiot!” Althea screams. It sounds distant, unreal. “We’re trying to help!”

The boy pushes his back against the wall, looking at his own hand, horrified. “I… what…”

The green wall disappears, and the world still feels like it’s underwater. Is time slowing down, or is it my brain into overdrive?

I run to the boy, adrenaline pushing me forward despite my confusion, and grab his left arm. I twist so to force him face down on his bed, and after a moment of struggling, I snap the silver handcuffs over his wrists.

He screams, and while the orange light fades from his arms, criss-crossing burns form where silver touched him.

The fucker attacked me. My heart is still hammering, I feel the urge to fight - or at least insult him. But the boy is whimpering now, obviously no longer a threat.

I take a deep breath.

“Blademaster here. Target subdued. We’re unharmed. He’s not seriously hurt.”

“Mission control here,” Aeniki says, a hint of the usual boredom creeping back in her tone. “I confirm that the theta signal is sharply decreasing. Hurray for the Agency. That will teach him. No one goes to art school on our watch.”

***