Magic caused the war. Magic is forbidden. Magic will save us. The Relic Guild is the award nominated first book in The Relic Guild trilogy.
It was said the Labyrinth had once been the great meeting place, a sprawling city at the heart of an endless...
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Marney looked up at the ramparts. Her expression was challenging. Even though Samuel knew it was too murky for her to see him, somehow her eyes still burned into his.
It's been a long time, Samuel, her voice said in his mind. How are you?
It seemed pointless now to continue the conversation mentally, but Samuel obliged the empath's wishes. He did not, however, deactivate the power stone on his weapon.
That whore is a murderer, he thought back angrily.
That whore has a name, Marney countered, just as hotly. Clara. Remember it!
What are you doing, Marney?
I could ask you the same thing. Clara's a changeling. She's a magicker, Old Man. Did you know that?
Get to the point, Samuel snapped.
Marney shook her head and moved to Hemlock's unconscious form lying on the courtyard floor. She checked him over, and then sat on his chest, looking down at his face.
Do you ever think about the old days, Samuel?
What?
Do you remember life before the Genii War, before the Aelfir disappeared? Marney slipped a dagger from the baldric and toyed with it between her fingers. Don't tell me you've forgotten about that as well as your duty.
Her voice carried a measure of dark mirth. Samuel did not care for the way it felt in his head.
Where are you going with this, Marney?
Charlie Hemlock, she replied and held the slim dagger as though it were a pencil. He has a new paymaster. Nothing surprising there, I suppose – whoever's paying the most with Charlie, right? But this time he's bitten off more than he can chew.
And what has this to do with me?
Everything. You see, Samuel, Charlie's been employed by an old friend of ours.
Marney then leant forwards and used the dagger to cut something into Hemlock's forehead. Even with younger eyes, it would have been impossible for Samuel to see at that distance what she had carved into Hemlock's skin.
In Samuel's pocket, the spirit compass ticked as it continued to track the whore's life energy.
What have you found? he demanded. Who's Hemlock working for?
When she replied, Marney's anxiety scratched the inside of Samuel's skull. The Genii War spawned so many myths, stories that faded like echoes until the truth was utterly forgotten. But I remember the truth, Old Man, and I remember the promises we made. Perhaps you should too.
She sat back and admired her handiwork. Hemlock's face was smeared with blood that ran down the side of his face.
Samuel felt a shift in the air, a sudden temperature drop.
We sacrificed so much to win the war against Spiral, Marney said, but if we'd lost, it would have been much, much worse. She rose and stepped back from Hemlock's body. I want Charlie Hemlock to understand that. I want him to know what his new employer is capable of.
The temperature continued to drop, dispelling the humidity of Ruby Moon. Samuel's breath began to rise in clouds. On the courtyard floor, Hemlock's body shimmered, darkening as if drawing the very shadows to it. A breeze picked up bringing with it a sense of hopelessness and the stench of corruption. Samuel understood then that Marney had carved a sigil into Hemlock's forehead, a symbol of summoning.
What madness is this, Marney?
He deserves no better, Samuel, she said calmly. I'm giving Charlie to the Orphan.
Samuel's grip tightened on his rifle.
Of all people, Marney understood what terrible things dwelt within the Retrospective. The Orphan – the blood harvester. Summoning such a demon could see them all swallowed into oblivion. But the darkness was already gathering; Hemlock's facial features were now indistinguishable, as if shrouded. There was no stopping the summons. The Retrospective was coming.
I won't be part of this, Samuel told Marney angrily.
You already are! Marney snapped. She thrust out a hand, pointing to the heaped bulk of the dead assassin lying by the courtyard's exit. That thing isn't human, Samuel. It's a golem!
What?
That made no sense to Samuel. Golems were facile servants, human victims whose flesh and blood and bone had been converted to stone by the darkest of magics. But a magic-user skilled enough to create a golem hadn't been seen in the Labyrinth for decades, not since ...
No. Samuel's thought was as chilling as the snake that slithered around his spine. That's impossible, Marney.
Remember your promise, Old Man, she said. Follow Clara. You need to keep her close.
The air behind Marney shimmered and distorted, and from the distortion shot a flash of light that slammed into Marney's back. She fell to her knees with a cry. There was a sound like the howl of bitter wind, and Marney's voice was choked off as her body hardened to ice.
The distortion shattered in the air like glass, collapsing to reveal a square portal, a doorway to somewhere else from which sterile light spilled onto the cobbles of the courtyard. Four disfigured golems dressed in cassocks stumbled from the portal and grabbed Marney's frozen body.
Behind the golems, Samuel saw a man bathed in the light of a silver chamber, standing before what looked to be some kind of tree. With long, white hair and pale skin, he too was dressed in the black cassock of a priest. He watched with dispassionate eyes as his servants carried the empath back to him.
Samuel stood on the rampart and aimed his rifle. But he was too slow. The golems had already taken the empath through to the silver chamber, and, before he could fire, the portal closed with a swirl of distorted air. Marney was gone.
Samuel stared into empty space, not quite believing what he had witnessed.
He flinched as a small, child-like form on the courtyard floor caught his eye. A little boy had appeared, crouching over Hemlock's body, short fingers clawing at his clothes. The boy and Hemlock quickly dissipated, turning to shadow that seeped into the cobbles like oil drawn into cracks in the ground.
The Retrospective had been and gone, and the Orphan had claimed its prize.
The night's humidity returned and pressed in on Samuel. In his pocket, the spirit compass vibrated. He fished it out. The needle was still locked onto the girl. There was only one option left to Old Man Sam now.
He followed her.
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