I wasn’t sure what to expect when we emerged from the supernatural realm onto the banks of the Ravi River yesterday. We’d been scouting a path for realignment for a few days, and knew that if we’d reached this point and all was going well Iravati wouldn’t be far behind, but we hadn’t discussed how we would know when realignment was complete. I suspect most of our company was having the same thought, as everyone turned to watch the river and wait. Everyone except the courier, that is, who was speaking rapid Sanskrit into a glowing ball of energy he’d been using to communicate with the city all along. Multiple soldiers were fiddling with their armor or swords, and only Michael took the time to check if any other mortals were watching this group of naga that just appeared out of thin air with two random white men in tow. I got the impression no one was, by Michael’s relaxed pose as he walked over to me and turned his attention to the water.

“What are we watching for?” I asked.

“Iravati,” he answered in a flat tone.

“And how will we know when it arrives?”

“You’ll know, priest.”

I sighed and continued watching the river. It was another half hour of waiting and listening to the courier rattle off his information, with occasional checks against his notes, before he suddenly went silent. We all turned to look at him as he waited a moment, then gave a short statement that sounded like the answer to a question, then dismissed the ball of energy and turned to the river. Before I could fully follow his gaze back to the river, the ground began to shake and knocked me off balance. I looked around at the others, but the snake bodies of the naga were better able to handle the shaking than my legs, and Michael was floating about an inch off the ground. He smiled at me before offering me a hand.

“I think I’ll wait,” I grumbled as the ground shook again.

Michael shrugged and turned back to the river. The water was churning wildly, white foam splashing off of it in every direction. There was a shimmer, ever so slightly visible as though the sunlight was catching on tall sheets of ice, and I realized the forms looked like the walls of Iravati. I leaned forward to rest my arms on my knees as I watched the city seem to barely begin to form and then vanish again, over and over, and then suddenly everything stopped. The ground was still, the water began to calm, and the city completely disappeared. I stood and wiped the sand from my clothes as the courier and half the soldiers moved forward. There was no summoning this time, no gate opening from under the river, no change to the water. The scouts merely slipped into the water and vanished, and then emerged a moment later. The courier yelled something I didn’t understand, and everyone else but me erupted into cheers.

We re-entered the city to something of an impromptu parade, with thousands of naga taking to the streets and cheering on the company. Most of the focus was on the courier and soldiers, with only a few naga even seeming to notice Michael and me.

“Do we not count?” I asked him softly.

He rested his hand on my shoulder. “This isn’t our victory. Let’s just take it as it comes.”

“I don’t think I expected the man I met in England to hold such a stance.”

“Aslaug made sure to beat it into my head before I came here.” With that he was gone, slipping away into the crowd. By the time I caught sight of him again he was talking to the court mage, so I decided not to hassle him.

The celebration quickly became an outright party as naga from across the city brought out food or alcohol or instruments and just joined in. I quickly got lost in the crowded streets, and wandered for about an hour before I found somewhere I could sit and enjoy some fruit I’d picked up along the way. As I began to cut the fruit open, I heard a familiar voice.

“You’re doing that wrong, English,” Akshainie said.

I pulled the knife from the fruit and stood, facing her. “Still German.”

“Still doing it wrong.” She smiled.

I held the fruit and the knife out to her. “Then show me.”

She took the fruit but pushed the hand with the knife away as she slithered a little closer. “This is a mango, Bene. You can have no shame when eating a mango, it’s too pure for that. Ruins the flavor.” She took a large bite out of the mango, the juice running down her chin and dripping onto her armor, then placed the fruit back in my hand. I didn’t break eye contact with her as I did the same, and I have to admit, it did taste better than the one I’d had in the market when we first met. I wonder how much of that was really my approach to the fruit. Her face lit up for a moment, and then she started to laugh as I quickly put the knife away and tried to wipe the juice from my chin.

It suddenly occurred to me that we hadn’t seen each other in over a week, not since that dinner with Michael where she explained the effects of separation from the river. I hadn’t bathed or had a decent place to sleep for the last few of those days, while we were out scouting ahead, and I must have looked a complete mess even before the mango. She looked tired, for her part, but generally seemed to have fared better in our time apart than I had. As I watched her and lost sight of everything else happening around us, she seemed to slowly realize what I was thinking about.

“I missed you,” she said, before taking a quick breath as if catching herself before saying more.

I rested my hand against her cheek and she closed her eyes and leaned into it. “I missed you, too. You’ll have to tell me all about your adventures this past week.”

“My adventures! Bene, I was mostly standing around waiting for a war that never came. But you, out  there in the void? How was that for you? It was your first time, right?”

“It was, yeah. Very…dull, the void.”

“Yes, but I know who went with you, and I doubt they were very dull.”

“That’s true,” I laughed, “I assume you know Divit’s jokes, then.”

“Unless he picked up new ones while I’ve been gone.” She looped her arm around mine and we started heading down the street. “You better tell me some of them just to be sure.” She picked up a bottle of some kind of liquor as she led me back to my apartment, where we talked and drank away from the crowd for hours until we both fell asleep.

The work of realignment proved itself more difficult than I had anticipated today.

The process had been going well so far, we were holding to schedule and anticipating completion tomorrow. The work had been difficult, however, so we were pulling longer hours the last couple days. Today, in the ninth hour of work, something gave way.

It began with a sudden resistance. When it was reported to me, I expected it was one of the brief hindrances we had encountered throughout, and went to add my will to the realignment for the push we would need to get through it. This had been more than enough in every previous instance, so I grew concerned when all I felt was more resistance, as if the plane of Iravati was grinding against something unmovable. I halted all the work and gathered the advisers and mages together to work out what we were dealing with. The soldiers, of course, took it as a bad sign and evacuated everyone in Iravati not actively working on realignment to more secure, and thankfully elevated, regions of the city. We came to a conclusion fairly quickly, that it was simply a bit of unusually strong turbulence in the flow of the realms, but were not permitted to continue until the evacuation was completed. We took the opportunity to rest and recharge, and within three hours we were back at it. We gathered a group of strong spellcasters, united our efforts, and pushed. For a moment nothing much seemed to happen, but then we felt the realm push past the resistance and come free.

And Iravati immediately began to flood.

Massive waves battered it from every direction, and alarms went off all through the city. The soldiers, who were already in position in case an enemy broke through, leapt into action securing the parts of the city everyone had evacuated to and grabbing materials for makeshift dams. Akshainie came tearing up the hill to where we were working. She ordered that every watermancer join her, and turned to me.

“Whatever you lot did, undo it!” she demanded.

“We only moved the city along the planned path!” I answered.

“Then take it back, and figure out another way!” With that, she and six mages rushed off toward the water, and as I watched some of it began to stop in place and flow in another direction. I turned to the remaining mages, all of whom were watching me as if waiting for directions.

“You heard the woman! Let’s back it up and check our records!” So we resumed position and began pushing the other way. The resistance was much lighter this way, and after only about 20 minutes we managed to lodge the plane back in the grinding turbulence we had encountered before. The water stopped rising as soon as we did, and I sent most of the mages down to help the watermancers and soldiers in whatever way they could as the court mage and I reviewed our plans.

It took us a couple hours, but what we ultimately realised was that all our planar maps were out of date. I had brought the ones included in the file on Iravati, which were accurate to the time when Iravati was separated from the mortal plane. The city had its own maps, and while they had made updates where they could, the information was woefully incomplete. We would need to scout out the rest of the region we were passing through during realignment, and determine any course corrections on the way. The work would take longer, but we feel we have a way to reduce that impact and get the information we need. The Queen of Heaven has granted me a courier and a platoon of soldiers, and at daybreak we will set out into the planar void and begin charting a new path. The courier can relay messages back to the court mage, who will oversee the actual process of realignment following the path we find.

God grant us ease in our journey.

As we were preparing to go to the work site this morning, Michael found himself short on toothpaste. I informed him I had an extra tube in my luggage he was welcome to, but when he emerged from my room he was carrying two books.

“What are these?” he asked, turning them over in his hands. “Is this a Book of Shadows?”

“The Book of Shadows, actually.” I stood and reached for them. “You’ll want to be careful with that, it has defenses.”

“I’m sorry. This is the original?”

“Yes.”

“How did you get your hands on the original Book of Shadows? Was the Vatican holding it this whole time?”

“Quite the opposite.” I snatched the book from his hand. “My mother won it in a gamble. I inherited it.”

“Who the hell did your mother win it from?”

“Asmodeus.”

Michael shook his head and raised his hands. “You never cease to surprise, priest. So what’s this other book?”

“That came from Henry, Matteson’s father. He said it was a sort of index for the Book of Shadows, but he didn’t have time to really show me how it works before he died.”

“The Consociationes Daemonum? You mean to tell me that Anchor’s personal library included a copy of the bloody Consociationes Daemonum? And he just…let you take it?”

“I did tell you it was quite the collection.”

“This absolutely puts it into the impressive category. Where did he get this?”

“I have no idea.”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Few things are more cryptic to me than a Matteson.”

He sat down and began flipping through the book. “I’ve heard of these books, you know. I had to study a great many occult works as part of my training. Copies of the Book of Shadows are rare, and copies that work are rarer still; the copy we could find for me to study was only available on loan for a day at a time from a strange man in a tower on the edge of the Abyss. I had to hand over a chunk of my soul as collateral until I returned it. Thankfully his days are longer than ours, but I have to tell you, that was a very strange period of my life.”

“And the Consociationes Daemonum?”

“Rumors, mostly. The last known copy was sold in auction to an American woman using what we believe was an assumed name in 1912. There was speculation that she returned to the colonies on the Titanic, and it was the book that cursed the ship to fail. No one knows if the story is true, or if so, whether or not the book sank with the ship. But,” he said, closing it, “I know how to use it. We had to be prepared, you see. Things like this pop up unexpectedly from time to time.”

“So you can teach me how to use that to read this?” I asked, holding up the Book of Shadows.

“I can indeed. If only to have a chance to see them in action. But right now, we have work to do.”

I nodded and we put the books safely back in my luggage before heading out.

“We don’t actually have that much water,” Akshainie said. It was the evening, and she had joined Michael and I at the apartment for dinner. She was, at this point, responding to Michael asking about the sanitation conditions in the prison.

“This is a water-aligned city of water spirits!” Michael cried. “How could it possibly be lacking water?”

Akshainie set her fork down and glared at him. “You know, for someone who prides himself on magical knowledge, you sure are stupid sometimes.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“This is a river city. It gets its water from the River Network. Do you know what the River Network is?”

“I’m aware of it.”

“Then you should be aware that its nature is defined, to a large degree, by the actual rivers of the mortal world.” She took up her fork again and stabbed it into her rice. “The physical rivers that your ancestors cut us off from.”

“Wait,” I said, “are you telling us Iravati has been severed from the River Network this whole time?”

“All the water we have in Iravati is the water that was within our borders when we were separated from the world, and any water we’ve been able to carry in or magically summon. It’s why we have to leave the city and then go into the physical river to access the River Network, and that’s a recent development. It took us 70 years to figure out how to travel to the mortal realm after the schism.”

“Akshainie, I’m so sorry,” Michael said. “I didn’t realize, I don’t think they knew—”

“Do you think it would have mattered to them if they did know? Do you think that would have stopped them? Look at the history of your empire and then look me in the eye and tell me they wouldn’t have seen that as all the more reason to do it!” She glared at Michael for a moment, apparently expecting a reply. When she didn’t get one, she stormed off toward the bedrooms. I looked over to Michael, who was staring into his rice with a blank stare, and then rose and rested my hand on his shoulder.

“It’s good to know how important this work is,” I said, “so you can better understand how to address it.” He nodded, and I patted his shoulder before heading back into my bedroom. Akshainie was tightly coiled on the floor, her arms crossed under her chin and resting on her tail as she stared off into the distance. I sat on the bed next to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how bad things were here.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I suppose not. But you do know it’s not his, either, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” she grumbled.

“I’m not going to tell you not to be mad at his family, or his country, or even him for all the ways this has played out for each of you. I know that it doesn’t undo any of the problems your people have faced while being cut off. It doesn’t erase the past.”

“Then why did you come in here?”

“To make sure you’re okay. And remind you that the reason you’re able to have this conversation at all is that he’s here, now, trying to make it better. Please don’t forget that you’re talking to a Hudson, maybe the only Hudson, that is listening and willing to act on what you’re telling him.”

She uncoiled enough to lean over and lay her head on my lap, and I began to stroke her hair. “Do you know what she has us soldiers doing?”

“No. I’ve noticed soldiers coming and going at the edges of the site, but I don’t know why.”

“Because of what happens if it doesn’t work. If this doesn’t do what Michael promises, there’s the chance it will make us vulnerable. Iravati has enemies, just like everywhere else does, and if we align the city incorrectly we don’t know who will suddenly have access to us.”

“You’re preparing to repel a surprise invasion force?”

“Essentially.” We sat in silence for a while before she spoke again. “I’m scared, Bene. The world has changed while we’ve been cut off. What if we’re not ready? What if this creates new problems we can’t handle? What if I have to stay here to fight a losing battle?”

“I don’t know. But I trust you’ll be up to the challenge, whatever it is. You’re very capable and your city is resourceful. You’ll get through. And if it’ll help, I’ll stay as long as I can.”

“I think it would, but I can’t ask you to do that. The Brood has to fall.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to do that without you, anyway.”

She rolled over to look up at me. “No, you probably can’t.” We both laughed as she got up and I stood.

“You ready to finish dinner?” She agreed, and he went back to the table.

With the Queen of Heaven’s reluctant acceptance of Michael’s help came some new living quarters. He was still under guard, of which I was a part, but we were led to an apartment a short journey from the market rather than the prison. Michael immediately made use of its bathtub, explaining as he emerged wearing a towel that he hadn’t had access to one since his arrival in Iravati.

“That would explain the smell,” I said as he sank into a chair opposite me.

“It is odd, being a water-aligned city. One would expect them to have facilities everywhere,” he replied.

“Maybe they just really don’t like you.”

“That is likely. I understand their bitterness about the whole affair, of course, but I am still grasping why they seem to hold me personally responsible.”

“Did your family gain any favor or wealth by their work here?”

“Of course.”

“And are you still benefiting from that favor and wealth?”

“Hm. I think I see where you’re going with this. But excuse me to get dressed. I”ll have to consider the matter further when I return to England.” He rose again and slipped into one of the two bedrooms. The other, I was informed when the guards let us in and took up their posts outside, was reserved for me; to ensure I was always close at hand should he try anything. The apartment was originally intended for guests to the city, I’m told, and appeared to have been designed by someone who knew guests would need separate spaces but didn’t quite know what those spaces were. The kitchen, or at least the area that appeared to be for cooking, was in my bedroom. The only restroom was in Michael’s bedroom, and the communal space with the chairs also housed what looked to be some sort of meditative or religious space. Ignoring the incense holders but lighting a candle that I hoped didn’t have alternate ceremonial importance, I utilized that area for a round of daily prayers while I waited for Michael to return. He emerged before I was done, but seemed to recognize that I was busy and sat silently until I was done. When I finished and turned toward him, he was flipping through a leather-bound book.

“Anything interesting?” I asked, taking up my seat again.

“Haven’t a clue,” he replied, closing the book and setting it aside, “I don’t know the language.”

“I could ask Akshainie if they have anything in English.”

“I do speak multiple languages, Benedict. Just not this one.” He leaned back and crossed his arms. “But speaking of Akshainie. What is the nature of your relationship with her?”

“We’re partnering on official business on behalf of our benefactors.”

“Is that the official answer, or the honest one?”

“What are you getting at?”

“Hopefully, something worth talking about that isn’t official business.”

“There is nothing between Akshainie and I to discuss.”

“And are you happy with that?”

“I accepted the terms of my office long before you were born, Michael.”

He raised his hands as if giving up the subject. “Very well, then. But one could hardly be faulted for noticing that acceptance is not the same as enjoyment.” We sat in silence for a minute before he leaned forward. “But if I could ask just one more thing.”

“I seem to have little ability to stop you.”

“I saw the way you looked at her in England. And how she looked at you. The way you two moved in sync, and worked through information together.”

“That isn’t a question.”

“Do you know how she feels about you, and does she know how you feel about her?”

“We know what we need to know.”

“You didn’t seem so dodgy last we spoke.”

“I am not a man of secrets. But I am a man of mission, and this matter is not helpful to our mission. I suspect this is a trait you’ll have to learn someday, future Lord Hudson.”

“Yes, of course. But I don’t intend to put my entire life on hold over it, and I don’t believe you should, either.”

“My life is not on hold. It is simply not guided by earthly desires.”

The door opened and a soldier entered. “The Queen of Heaven is ready for you to begin preparations,” she said.

“Thank God,” I said. Michael laughed as we both rose and followed the soldier.

When we arrived in Iravati we were immediately greeted by a 20-strong contingent of the city guard, who swept us along past the gates and market into the throne room where the Queen of Heaven was holding court. The room fell silent and all activity stopped when we were led in, the crowd parting for us the only movement. We continued on until we were face to face with the great two-headed naga, who gazed down on us with a cold fire in her unblinking eyes. I began to wonder if answering the summons had been the best option for us, but before I could weigh the value of voicing that concern, I heard a door open and chains dragging on the floor. I turned to the source of the sound, in the process noticing that Akshainie was not breaking her focus away from the Queen, and as I finished turning I saw Michael Hudson in shackles. He was being led by two soldiers.

“Priest,” he said, softly, as soon as he was close enough.

“Mage,” I replied.

He smirked at that, which inspired a sharp jab from the elbow of one of the soldiers into his side. The blow caught him off guard enough to nearly knock the breath out of him, and as he coughed through the recovery I turned my attention back to the throne.

“Repeat your claim, Hudson,” one of the heads of the Queen of Heaven demanded, the last word said through clenched teeth.

“Of course, your highness,” he said, before taking a deep breath and regaining his composure. The shackles glowed faintly for a moment, and when it did both soldiers adjusted the grip on their weapons as if preparing to strike. “I was recently made aware of my family’s involvement in Iravati’s severing from the mortal world. In light of this information, and in response to help received from the naga Akshainie—” Akshainie scowled when he said her name, “—I participated in a study on how to reverse the damage done to your land by my ancestors. I have come to offer the plan of realignment and, if so desired, my assistance in accomplishing it.”

As the head that had spoken to him continued to watch Michael, the other turned toward us. “Tell us what you know of this,” she commanded.

Akshainie stood at attention and straightened her armor. “My queen,” she began, “it was the Brood of Nachash. The Hudson estate discovered evidence of their presence and active operation on their island, and this man,” she indicated toward Michael without turning to face him, “was put in contact with Father Benedict de Monte for assistance. Benedict and I argued extensively about my ability to assist the Hudson estate, but in the end I was promised I could end him myself if he proved to be beneath our effort to assist.”

“You gave her permission to kill me?” Michael hissed at me. I cleared my throat but offered no answer.

“When we arrived, I referenced his family’s history with Iravati and he swore to investigate my claim. During the course of our work against the Brood, he discovered records of the Schism and, armed with those records, worked with Benedict, a servant of his named Roderick, and I to develop a spell to counter the one cast by his ancestor and their lap dog.”

“He only called upon the two of you, against the Brood of Nachash?” the Queen asked.

“He had assistance from an embodied spirit in his own region. We were also aided by two others who came from Benedict’s contacts in America.”

“These were not contacts of the Hudson estate?”

“One is a relative of the Hudsons, but was not aware of their magical work or nature until our arrival. The other was not acquainted with them at all.”

“Were these associates religious figures like yourself?” the Queen asked me. “Or perhaps mages?”

“One has potential,” I answered. “The other is an Anchor.” The room exploded into gasps and conversation. The Queen of Heaven recoiled at the last word and glared at me. “I recognize that you have valid distrust of Anchors, and would never dare to bring one here. But please understand that our methods in this instance required a means to stifle the magic of the Brood. The Anchor was crucial to our plan to weaken and then ambush them.”

“You have made strange allies in the world of man, Akshainie.” The Queen of Heaven raised her arms and the room went silent again. “Did you test Michael Hudson to ensure he could be trusted in this matter?”

“I did,” Akshainie replied. “While I do believe he is more concerned with his own interests than reconciliation with our people, I believe realignment of Iravati with the mortal world is in line with his interests.”

“There’s benefit in this for him?”

“His promise to carry out this work assured my assistance against the Brood, which he was not adequately prepared to eliminate without me. And, I suspect, he has a vested interest in establishing a sphere of influence beyond his island. He is in line to become Lord Hudson in a waning empire likely to lose its monarch while he holds the office. He traffics with spirits whose loyalty to the crown are questionable, works with agents of an external political and religious body, and has carried out this work without the permission or knowledge of his queen.”

“You think he is anticipating a time when he may need Iravati to look favorably on him?”

“It seems a possibility, your majesty.”

The Queen of Heaven considered this answer for a moment, then turned to me. “You have shown yourself to respect my authority in this place. Will you submit to me in this matter?”

“Of course,” I answered.

“Good. I will need much of my guard involved in this plan the young man has brought to us. You assist these two soldiers in caring for and supervising the future Lord Hudson. If he moves against us, kill him.” She waved us away, but as we turned to leave she stopped Akshainie and assigned her to help with the realignment among the city guard. We nodded to one another, and she left with a group of scribes and soldiers through a different door as we made our way to the prison.

“Will you really kill me?” Michael asked, once we were away from the court.

“Will you give me need to consider it?” I asked.

“I suppose I’d better not.”

Sure enough, there was little else for me to do. The suspects were processed in whatever manner was normal for the estate, and then Michael met with us for a debrief. The essential message of it was that we had done a great service for the Crown that day, and would be compensated accordingly. I don’t know what he paid the others, but the cheque handed to me was significantly more than I expected, and Akshainie’s was similar. She asked me later how one spends a cheque, and we ended up having a long discussion about how to get her a bank account.

Before we had that discussion, however, Michael took Akshainie and I aside and we discussed what was next. He was guarded about what, exactly, was going to happen regarding those we’d arrested, and seemed mostly focused on us. We told him about our recent shift in focus to finding ritual sites that were providing the cult with magical energy, and I expressed my concerns about the cult’s increased activity. He took us to the estate library, and showed us records that they’d been receiving about some serpent-based spiritual activity near the border of France and Spain. He informed us it was beyond his jurisdiction, but not ours. We discussed what few details he had, and it was agreed that we would be flown to the Pyrenees the next morning.

After breakfast, we had a brief period to say our goodbyes to Matteson and Alice before they left for a day in town and we were driven to the plane.

“Do you think he’ll really do it?” Akshainie asked, finally, as we were looking down on the French countryside.

“Do what?” I asked.

“Make things right with Iravati?”

“I don’t know. I take him as a man of his word, however.”

“You almost sound remorseful about that.”

“Well.” I thought for a moment as we flew over a river. “It’s what he wouldn’t say that concerns me.”

“Do we trust him to do what’s right?”

“I think we can trust him to do what works,” I said. “And, I suppose, establishing a better relationship with Iravati does work for him.” Akshainie grunted an agreement, and we both turned our attention back to the view.

We had to split up for the last two raid locations, with Michael identifying a group of cultists in a building for me to take out before they could react, while he dealt with picking off the individuals scattered around the area.

The cultists who held vantage points, it turned out, were also relying more on weapons than on magic. Allowing enough heat to escape my body reduced their attacks to mere annoyances, and that in turn caused them to yield quickly. Which was quite good, as I fear what would have happened to the structure of the buildings if I had kept my heat up much longer. I am convinced at least one of them was already compromised from my brief burst; when I raised the matter to Michael, he promised to have someone look into it.

The lack of magic concerned me, however. In every other instance of encountering the Brood of Nachash, they relied heavily on the power of their dark gods. Here, they relied heavily on illegal weapons. I considered the possibility that the people I was facing were not actually part of the cult, but I could find little reason for him to have otherwise been able to identify them the way he did, and their weapons were still illegal. If they were part of the cult, it suggests that either they’re branching out, or that their recruitment in Britain did not allow them time to properly initiate these cells. Such a rush cannot be looked upon lightly.

After everyone was arrested and safely transported to the prison, we stepped through the gate and I was formally introduced to Lord Hudson. I checked with him and with Michael, and there was no sign of anyone matching the Barzai’s description at any of the raid sites. It was possible he would have been at the attack on the bishop, we were still waiting for Akshainie and Matteson to return, but I was growing concerned. If the Brood is in enough of a rush that they’re suddenly getting sloppy in training, and the Barzai is occupied elsewhere, something big was in the works. We would have to be vigilant against that, and I was concerned we were running out of time.

There was little else for me to do, however, so I was shown back upstairs while the Hudsons began to process their suspects. I reminded them that I was available if any last rites were needed, with a stern look reminding them I did not want them to be needed, but I left all the same. The fact is that I had no real authority here, and it was beginning to appear my work was complete. I took a walk around the grounds to think, and stopped when I found the work site where the corner of the estate was being rebuilt. Alice was there, as well, and I walked to her.

“You seem bothered,” I said. I noticed she was shivering, so I allowed a little more heat to escape my form.

“It’s…it’s nothing, Benedict. But thank you,” she answered, softly. She soon noticed the heat, and shifted closer to me. We both stared at the wall for a long moment.

“Did Matteson really do that?”

“I don’t know. Melinda said the place was so infused with magic that he might have, but we weren’t able to see exactly what happened. The cult priest was also calling on some spell or another at the time, it may have been him.”

“I see.” We stood in silence for another length of time, and when I glanced down to her I noticed a tear on her cheek. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about something? As someone who hears confessions, I understand how to keep it between us.”

“I appreciate that, but no. I think it would be best if I didn’t. I guess this trip just didn’t go how I expected it to.”

“You have seen very little of the supernatural before now, have you not?” I asked. She nodded. “I imagine it must be quite the shock.”

“That’s one way to put it. I just…” She faded out, then paused before looking up at me. Her eyes were welling up with tears now. “What do I do, father? I love Matteson, but if this is what his life is like, am I really ready for it? Is this really want I want for my life?” I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

“Every life has different challenges than you expect going into a relationship,” I said. “No one can decide if those challenges are worth it to you but you.” She buried her face in my chest and cried, and I held her and waited. I wasn’t tracking the time, but it must have been some minutes before she finally pulled back and looked into my eyes again.

“Thank you. I think I just needed to get some of that out.”

​“Well,” I said, wiping the hair from her face and giving my best comforting smile, “just make sure you don’t hold the rest in too long, okay?” She nodded, and slipped away back inside the house. I gave the house work one more look before continuing my walk.

By sorting out the targets for the cult cells and basing their locations on the ley network they would certainly be using to instantly mass communicate, Benedict and I were able to map out where to find the cells with a workable level of accuracy. The first three cells, it was close enough to strike before they realized we were there for them; a quick ambush from both of us at full power, and a portable door that tossed them straight into the dungeon as soon as they were sufficiently subdued, made short work of them. Short enough they couldn’t get a warning out. Exactly the goal, augmented by Benedict’s desire to avoid killing as much as possible.

It was nearing noon. We hadn’t heard from Matteson and Akshainie, and were beginning to wonder why. Were they having difficulty? With Matteson’s wound he would certainly be limited, and there was nothing we could do to speed his healing. But they had ways of letting us know if they needed help. Had the cult not attacked yet? If not, when were they planning to? Would the cult be on higher guard once the time for the attack came?

As we approached the fourth location, I received a call from father. He and his personal team had gone after the cell targeting the Queen, due both to proximity and the need for the true Lord Hudson to be handling something so sensitive. It was a harder fight than ours had been—they were prepared for stronger defenses, after all—but the task was finished and the cultists were in custody. He was now on his way to the cell targeting the Archbishop of Canterbury, and we had two more to handle.

This group was more well-hidden than the others. We knew they were nearby, but the area was more densely populated than the others we’d dealt with so far, and it was harder to pinpoint their locations. The others had a limited number of places they could actually be in the space; with the shops and flats surrounding us, we had no idea if our targets would even be collected in one spot. And, of course, collateral damage was much more likely here. We had to be far more careful. Benedict and I found a secluded place where I could work out a spell.

“Why are you trying to keep this a secret?” he asked, after I’d ensured we weren’t being watched.

“Are you suggesting that the rest of the world does not?” I asked.

“Well, I certainly don’t know about that. But I am certain that neither Akshainie nor Matteson will consider secrecy an important aspect of their mission if you didn’t tell them.”

“Why not? They come from somewhat civilized lands.”

“Akshainie comes from a culture that openly discusses the spiritual side of reality, and I don’t know how you think things work in the United States, but the only secrets they keep are sexual. And that, only occasionally,” he said. I stopped and looked him in the eye.

“I have been to the States. They did not seem very open about magic.”

“It’s not that they’re open about it. Most of them seem to just assume it’s around but not important to their lives. They might focus only on miracles, or get very interested in psychics, or any number of things. But they generally think of it as something that happens from time to time, just usually outside of their personal experiences, and have a tendency to explain away any minor forms of it they come across. It’s a weird balance.”

“But the end result is that Matteson will just chat about it? Be open about his involvement in the supernatural? Because it is part of his personal experience?”

“That has been the impression he’s given me.”

I groaned and refocused on the task at hand. I should have probably given them more clear directions about how to carry themselves in England, but it was too late now. I’ll just have to have a debrief with the bishop later if anything happens. The spell I need for now would be more difficult, however. I no longer had access to the magical signature I’d used to track the cult before, and even if I did, it was likely at least a bit different between cells based on their regional connection to the ley network and the specific spells they were doing in preparation. I was going to have to use the Registry.

Using the Registry was cumbersome for daily use. Augmenting my vision to compare every individual with a non-standard magical nature against the records of every single registered embodied spirit and mage across the Empire took time, and often added a slight bit of lag on my senses. Benedict would have to pick up my slack if we had to actually fight. But it was a necessary spell for every Hudson to know, because it was useful in instances like this, where I needed to be able to quickly identify members of the magical community and determine if they were a threat. The cult was not registered, and while their members could technically have registered under false affiliations, something in their file should have failed to line up if they had. Red flags and unregistered magic users would have to be my targets in this setting; hopefully, if any of them were not part of the cult, we’d be able to sort them out in questioning back at the estate. I was growing concerned that Benedict would not endorse such a system, and reactions would be even worse if he told the Americans; so I simply told him that the spell allowed me to register people affiliated with the cult. Father and I could deal with the sorting later, without our freelancers. The spell was ready and cast, and as I turned around my vision marked Benedict as an unregistered half-spirit.

​“It’s ready,” I said. He nodded and let me through, and we began searching the neighborhood.

One by one, the beacons were going dark.

I couldn’t contact Benedict or Akshainie while they were in the metaphysical realm, since phones didn’t exactly get reception there, but I could mark their progress by observing the order in which beacons on the other side of town were snuffed out. I didn’t know exactly what they were doing with the cultists—the result from my end would be the same whether the cultists were dead or unconscious—but it hardly seemed important. I was already able to ambush and arrest three lone cultists, but I was carefully watching the beacon on the move. One of them, it seemed, was staying a step ahead of me, and after the third ambush I stopped to study its direction. I checked it against my map when I got suspicious, and grew concerned that it was heading toward the estate.

The estate, of course, could probably defend itself. Roderick and mother were sufficient to handle most isolated threats, and the estate has its own defenses, and of course they had the option of recalling father from London. But I was still concerned, and kept an eye on it until I saw it go dark as well. There was still one more isolated cultist I was tracking, but by this point the line of the other team’s progress was leading directly to what seemed to be a hub of beacons, and I didn’t want to leave them without backup.

On the way there, I received a call from mother. She informed me that Matteson had taken down a cult priest, who was now in the dungeon, and Alice had delivered some paperwork from that priest that indicated the next steps of their plan. I agreed to collect Benedict and Akshainie as soon as we were done with our next strike and return to the estate to study those documents. I also asked how Matteson fared against the priest, and she hesitated before telling me to brace myself for seeing some collateral damage when we returned. I made a mental note of that and we disconnected.

I arrived at an abandoned warehouse outside of town and meditated to sense the presence of people in the metaphysical realm. I waited about ten minutes before I felt the others arrive, and then exited the car as a massive flaming demon and a naga, unmistakably Akshainie, stepped out of the metaphysical realm.

“Is this what you normally look like, Father?” I asked.

“Normally? No,” he replied. The fact that it was Benedict’s voice unnerved me but I couldn’t put my finger on why it should.

“Do you know how many are in there?” Akshainie asked.

“Looks like about thirteen,” I said, “but these things have room for error above five or so.” They both nodded, and Akshainie drew her swords. “What have you done with the others?”

“They’re waiting to be collected, in a shed over there,” she said, pointing back toward a few old houses. “Didn’t seem otherwise occupied.”

“Right.”

“What’s your play, boss?” Benedict asked.

“Do those wings work?” I asked. He nodded. “Then I would like you to start at the top. Stay out of sight until you’re inside, no need to worry the whole countryside with visions of the apocalypse.”

“Of course.”

“Akshainie, you start at the loading area over there, and I’ll start at the front entrance. We can all move in toward the center until there’s no one left.”

“Results?” Akshainie asked. I considered that we already had their plans and someone reliable to interrogate, and that we had that information because they had attacked the estate.

“We don’t need any survivors,” I said. “If you want to bother with dragging them back, that’s your problem.” With that, Akshainie and I split up and Benedict vanished. As soon as I was reasonably sure we were all in position, I charged up some offense spells and blew the door open. Inside was a robed figure frantically shoving a pile of trinkets into a suitcase; I threw a bolt of lightning that fried them before they could react. I could hear commotion beginning to echo from other parts of the building, even some gunfire, and raised a mystic shield as I made my way forward.

The other front rooms were empty, and when I entered the large main room I intercepted three people running from Akshainie with another bolt of lightning that arced between them. Split up like that, it wasn’t enough to kill them, but I summoned a sword and finished them off as I passed. Akshainie already had five slain in her path and as I made my way forward she dispatched a sixth. Benedict crashed through the catwalk above us, two figures in each massive hand. They were unconscious, I realized as we all approached each other.

“You’re bringing those ones back to the estate?” I asked. Benedict confirmed he was. “Fine. We need to return, Alice and Matteson have information for us. I don’t suppose you’ll fit in the car with those,” I said, nodding toward the cultists, then turned to Akshainie. “Will you ride back with me, or accompany him?”

​“I’ll grab the others and meet you there,” she said. I nodded, thanked them for a job well done, and walked back to the car alone.