24 An Estate and a Necropolis

THREADFIN DID HIS best to ignore the sniffling breather at his side, as he watched the estate from his perch atop a crumbling wall. The estate had lain abandoned since the coup. Once the abode of Domon Avitus, its walls had been pilfered for stone, its innards gutted, leaving nothing of worth.

‘Are we certain she’s in there?’ the mage demanded for the third time.

‘Vilt said so,’ answered Grudge, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve.

Threadfin bit back an urge to slap the man. ‘Something wrong?’ he asked instead, trying to calm his tone, pretending he didn’t know anything. He was fond of Grudge, but sometimes the soldier made it an effort.

Another sniffle. ‘Vilt’s got a tongue like my Ma used,’ he mumbled. ‘Near flayed me alive with it when I suggested she start obeying orders. But my Ma always used talk after our disagreements. Vilt acts like she doesn’t know I’m alive.’

‘I did try to tell you,’ Threadfin said. ‘Vilt’s not your Ma.’ Thank the Spectrum above for small mercies. ‘You’ve got to treat her different. Don’t worry, it’ll all work out.’

‘You think so?’

‘Sure, why not.’ The estate lay in darkness, but he thought he could make out the woman in question, with Lyrin and Beezer nearing the main estate building.

‘Then Mr. Mage, sir, why’d she stick me back here with you. No offence.’

Threadfin grimaced. ‘She’s as experienced a scout as you are. She’s not interested in talking about your problems when she’s working, but you are. I told you to give it time.’

‘I did.’

‘One hour is not giving it time, Grudge. Anyhow, we’re here for a reason.’

As it happened, they didn’t have long to wait as magic erupted in a beautiful display of colour and light. It was difficult for Threadfin to make out what happened. He guessed Beezer had attempted to use his power to locate their target before entering the building, and had gotten a response for his efforts.

The coruscating light sent both elder virals hurtling through the air. Vilt simply hit the dirt, remaining prone and inert, playing dead. She was no match against magic and knew it.

Three angelic forms, wings fanning, emerged through a burning hole in the front of the building. So far, things weren’t going well.

‘Shit,’ Grudge swore. ‘There’s three, Mr. Mage sir.’

‘Yes, I can count, thank you.’

‘Supposed to be just one o’ the feathery feckers.’

‘Some respect, Grudge, please.’

‘My Ma didn’t like angels much. Too pious and holier than thou. She weren’t for church was my Ma.’

‘Somehow, I’m not surprised.’

Raziel had refused to take part in Virtue’s capture. He had, however, after some prodding, given them advice on how to go about it. He never mentioned she wouldn’t be alone.

Grudge grabbed Threadfin’s arm and pointed. ‘See, over there.’

‘Yes,’ said Threadfin squinting hard since he couldn’t use magic to enhance his sight anymore. ‘Definitely female, right?’

‘Sure, as my Ma were a flower in bloom.’

‘Grudge, sometimes you go too far.’

A fourth figure had emerged from a separate building used to house servants. Cloaked in darkness, she was escaping. Then he noticed the three at the front of the house had vanished. The older virals were picking themselves up.

‘Clever,’ muttered Threadfin.

‘What is?’

‘You said there’s only supposed to be one, not three.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Well, there is only one. We’ve been fooled.’ She must have the ability to project copies of herself. Neat trick.

‘I don’t follow, Mr. Mage, sir.’

‘Those other three aren’t real. They’re just a distraction. Come on, before she gets away.’

They abandoned the wall and moved into position. As Paladin Virtue reached the estate exit, they stepped out to block her path. Podral Pole appeared from behind the wall opposite. Fury twisted her features, as light emerged from beneath her cloak. Before she could let her magic fly, two powerful arms grabbed her from behind.

The Torment held the angel in a torturous grip, but Threadfin could see the effort it took. Virtue’s magic erupted along with her wings, breaking Striga’s hold. One wing smashed into the Torment’s chest once, twice, and a third blow sent Striga onto her back.

Virtue whirled to face Threadfin; her cloak was now gone. Dazzling white wings, which were streaked with cerulean blue, unfurled, and the viral mage found it difficult not to simply stand and gape at their wondrous beauty.

He held up his hands, trying to forestall her. He was powerless before her, unless he wanted to give the Grim a shot, and Grudge was just a breather. ‘We just want to talk. Virtue, we don’t want a fight.’

‘Liar,’ she spat. ‘You tracked me here, and then you tried to capture me.’

A wave of white light sent Threadfin toppling backwards. Landing hard on top of the captain, something which was becoming a habit, he couldn’t help but reflect on the fact she hadn’t killed any of them. It was clear she had the power to do so.

A screech and several growling curses caught the viral mage’s attention as he rolled off Grudge, and got to his feet. He saw Podral Pole sat on his ass, holding his head with one hand.

Striga was wrestling with the angel again, and Beezer and Lyrin had now arrived, both looking dishevelled but in one piece.

Virtue managed to hurl the Torment a second time, as the elder viral mages neared. By now Grudge was back on his feet, picking his nose. Vilt was there too, but she was keeping well out of it.

Virtue bent low as she spun, wings like scythes spitting white barbs of magic. The elder virals managed to block the attack, but it was clear they would not be getting the better of this angel.

Of course, Striga then had to go and lose her temper. Silver horns lining the length of her neck and shoulders lengthened as her muscles enlarged. White flames erupted across her body. She roared as she launched herself at Virtue. The angel hurled all her power at the Torment, but the attacks might as well have been flea bites.

Striga enveloped her arms about her prey, thwarting her wings, the force of their clash hurtling them into the outer estate wall in a crunching finale of tumbling stone and dust.

Pole was helping Grudge to his feet as the captain spat to the side, and said, ‘Just like my Ma used be.’

Threadfin stared at him for a moment. ‘Which one?’ The captain didn’t elaborate as he went to check on the love of his life, who appeared to still be ignoring him. Both Beezer and Lyrin joined Threadfin as the trio of undead mages went to inspect the damage. Rising from the rubble first was the Torment, dragging an unconscious angel behind her.

‘Um, isn’t that somewhat irreverent?’ asked Threadfin. ‘You know, pulling an angel through the dirt by her hair?’

‘She was getting on my last nerve,’ the Torment snapped, and Threadfin thought better of saying anything else.

‘We’re just going to interrogate her here?’ asked Vilt, hands on hips, looking dissatisfied with the situation.

‘Not sure I like this, lad,’ whispered Pole in his ear.

Threadfin had to admit the whole thing didn’t feel right to him either. Angels, those who hadn’t fallen that was, were meant to be on their side. Besides, it was likely Vilt had prayed to them more than once in her life, whatever about Pole. Haven’t we all, though? What good did it ever do any of us?

‘No,’ said Lyrin, ‘there will be no interrogation.’

Striga didn’t look pleased on hearing that. In fact, she still looked like she wanted to pummel Virtue into the dirt.

By this time, the angel had recovered, opening her eyes, and Threadfin wasted no time. The last thing they needed was another fight.

He knelt by her side and took hold of her hand, not without some surprise that she let him. ‘I am Threadfin Todder. We don’t want to harm you. Just to talk. Please.’

She rose slow and deliberate, still holding his hand, looking around at the others, her narrowed gaze finally halting on Striga. ‘You keep strange company, undead one,’ she whispered.

‘We are all allies of a sort. Look, I have no right to ask this, but I need your help. We all do.’

Her gaze snapped to his face and he felt a sudden surge of ... something, as though she had reached inside of him, probing. It wasn’t unpleasant, but far from comfortable. ‘Yes, I think I now understand,’ she whispered, as the feeling left him, and then she smiled.