MagigenesisCH 2ThoseWhoAreMine P2

CH 2 Those who are Mine (Part 2) REV 1

If Karoline called Sigerdlic to discuss augmentations to the prophesy, it would be about the Septimus.  At first he had ignored Karoline’s suggestion that the Assembly had taken the boy out among the Mundanes, but now he was no longer sure.  He had come so close to having the Septimus several times when he was younger, but then he had disappeared without a trace.

The last time Sigerdlic saw the Antemagenus was when he was seven. As presaged, he was already showing signs of his exceptional power.  The winds themselves brought this new flash of magic to his doorstep.  The child was Windcalling. Years before most boys demonstrated any control of their magic at all, he in his loneliness exhibited Vox Stellarum.  Sigerdlic remained unaware of how much the Septimus could hear on the wind, if anything, but he could speak to those with the same ability. It was a rare talent that Sigerdlic didn’t share.  However, this talent told him that the Septimus was magically of the element Air. It also brought him information which led to contact with the Septimus.  At this time, he observed that the Septimus was of medium build, Caucasian with light brown hair and blue eyes.  He could have been a million others, by that physical description.  All it eliminated were the races of color, but he existed and Sigerdlic would recognize the Septimus’ magic if he felt it again.  However, to search, person by person was impossible, even for a power such as his own.

When the boy was close to an age where Manifestation was possible, the Consul had pulled every string to ingratiate himself with the Awakening teams to be privy to the lists of Antemageni.  He even put up with Jonathan’s pandering, to gain Karoline clearance and all to no avail. For two years, Karoline had worked covertly to try to uncover the whereabouts of the Septimus. Although she was instrumental in gaining several Sextae, the Septimus was nowhere to be found. 

It had been years, since Sigerdlic had felt any sign of him, but the Septimus’ last incident of magnitude in Duriel confirmed the Assembly’s interference. Perhaps the prophecy was false. Perhaps the Septimus was dead. No.

He had to be shielded somewhere by the Assembly, but not yet Awakened. Sigerdlic was almost certain he would have felt the power expended in the Magigenesis of a Septimus, and if he didn’t most surely one of the Ansuli would have been close enough to discover him. Even the Assembly couldn’t hide a magical expenditure of that magnitude. If Sigerdlic could find the Septimus, he would indeed Awaken.  The tips of his fingers tingled in anticipation.  By now, the boy would be a young man, too old to play with, but not too old to be of use.  Although play would have been pleasant, he wanted the Septimus, for his power and not just for the sheer pleasure of it. 

He had no intention of sharing his rule, but he had had centuries of practice in making Sorceri happy as well as miserable.  The Septimus would be content.

**

The Consul glanced up as the door opened.  His Karoline stood on the threshold, followed closely by her Quinta aid.  Although Karoline physically looked every bit the administrator, with her navy blue heels and formal russet suit, her magic was diluted.  He felt the disorder immediately.  Her blouse was a silk paisley print, buttoned to the neck, hiding the shark tattoo that he knew Karoline had on her left breast.  The suit and blouse were expensive, as was her perfume which effectively masked the scent of her magic. The perfume was a new addition. He didn’t like it. Karoline had cleaned up well after her turbulent youth, but she held on to a few bits of the rebel she once was in the form of piercings and hair color.  Karoline’s bright red hair was short and disheveled, mucked up with some mundane sculpting gel that made her look rather like a mischievous imp. It muted the smell of Water magic with the oily scent of Earth.  She wore no coat, only the suit jacket.  Although the rose flush in her cheeks suggested she may have come from a colder climate, there were other reasons for flushed skin, magical reasons.  She opened her gloved hands in the Salu-manuum, and he noted that the index finger of one glove was torn. Her rather long earrings brushed her shoulders as she bowed her head in a respectful greeting.  She wore only gold, no magic repository gems in her ears.  She normally didn’t need them, but today she seemed like she could have used them.  “Salve, Consul.” There was no buzz of magic in the greeting: either she was extremely tired, or she was excessively shielding. 

Although he respected the need for secrecy, in front of the aid, and understood her abbreviated greeting, Sigerdlic could barely contain his rage.  He did not greet her.  “Seventeen minutes,” he said coldly.

She still did not apologize for her tardiness.  Instead she glanced behind her at her Submagistra. She addressed the woman curtly. “See that we are not disturbed,” Karoline gestured the woman out. Then she shut the door and hastily set a ward on it.  The magic was sure and competent.  When the last of the magic settled around the door giving them privacy, Karoline dropped to her knees on the floor in an ancient gesture of abject abasement. Her skirt pooled around her like dark blood. Eyes downcast, she removed both of her gloves with a single spell and raised her naked hands to his in Trado exposing herself to his wrath in the old way.

“Tibi Servio. Poeniteo, Meus Pater, Meus Domine.” Her hands stretched high above her head indicating that he was beyond her reach, and her words continued for his ears only, “Septimus Altissimus, Poeniteo.”

Yes, of course she was sorry.  If she thought groveling would save her now, she was mistaken.  It was she who had requested his presence and then did not think it necessary to be here when he arrived. 

He moved with such speed it could have been magically enhanced.  Instead of placing his hands over hers, his fingers clamped around her wrists. Her bracelet jingled as he shoved it out of the way to touch skin, and her fingers clenched involuntarily although he did not touch magic.  He could break her hands and heal them again before anyone could come to her aid even in this small government building and she knew it.  He had done such things before.

“Pater, Poeniteo,” she blurted again.  “I’m sorry.”

If she were elsewhere, he would not have hesitated, but here, he chose the less invasive option.  He let his magic rise and enter her skin claiming her as his own rather than taking her magic.  It could have been a pleasant exchange. It was not.  “Mea Sorcera, don’t ever keep me waiting again.”

She sucked in a quick breath, trying instinctively to twist out of his grasp and her manicured nails darkened, the soft peach against his skin colored with blood along the cuticles.  He sent a sharp spasm of pain as a warning and she stilled. 

“Why have you called me?  Is it about the two Sextae I saw,” he asked.  “Or one of the other children we’ve been following?  I know damned well it isn’t for this budget meeting.”

“No.” She turned her face up to his, her green eyes, were wide with triumph even through the pain.  She did not flinch, and met his gaze without guile.”  “It’s the Septimus,” she said.  Her lips brushed his hand in supplication.  “Pater, I’ve found him. He is in the United States of America, just north of Phoenix, Arizona.”

Abruptly, he released her, but she remained kneeling, sitting back on her heels and rubbing her hands, awaiting his pleasure.  He was delighted that their efforts had at last yielded results.  He let the gratification of her words wash through him.

“He is known by the Mundane alias of Calvin Smith, but he is our Septimus.” she continued.

“So, Mea Sexta, you were right.  He has been in the Mundane community after all.  Why has it taken us so long to find him?  Tell me.”

“The Assembly has been feeding us false information. They have warded him well, not with protections as we expected, but with secrecy.  We were all looking for actual magical protections.  Their shields do nothing to keep magic in or out.  They only keep him hidden.  Nothing warranting his power was showing up on our scans—nothing--everything was normal about him—“ she paused, a grin on her face.  “Until last night—there was a girl—an Antemagena. His magic registered on her wardings.

The sexual expression?” 

“Yes.”

The Consul questioned, “Where do you place her?”  There were a few unAwakened Sorceri in the Mundane world.  Karoline along with the other Magistri brought them to Duriel once the magic rose enough to be dangerous.  Sigerdlic had thought it unlikely that the Antemagenus Septimus could find an Antemagena or even a Sorcera in the Mundane world. Apparently neither did the Assembly.

“I don’t know her level.  I didn’t touch the girl,” Karoline said,  “but I checked the archives. The Assembly tried to change the readings to list her as Mundane now, but the paperwork has to lie.  The Magigenesis Bureau would have no reason to have the original wardings on her house if she were Mundane.  An expenditure of magic that large at close range would have killed a Mundane or even a Nonmagena. Her house was warded—minimally—by Magigenesis Bureau as a precaution several years ago.  Her father was a lower level Sorcerer, but she’s never had an large magical occurrence until now.  The Septimus blew out everything in the house, but at least the Awakening team had access to her mirror.  The power estimate was so high; everyone else is writing it off as an instrument malfunction. After all, she is obviously Quinta, but they might even list her as low as a Quatra.”

“Not with the Septimus.”

“No, but they list the Manifestation as hers—since it took place at her house.  There is no mention of his presence, no listing of sexual expression, but that’s what it was. Positively.  Air and Earth patterns.”

“He found her.”

“And brought her magic.”

Sigerdlic smiled.  “In that case, he isn’t as hindered by the Assembly as I thought.”

“The expunged records show him as solidly Septimus,” Karoline said confidently. She took an envelope from her pocket and handed it to him.  “These are the last true readings of the power. As you see, hers is minimal.  I wanted to pull them before the Assembly erased them.  Even now, they are changing the records:  his and hers.  We need to hurry, before they move him and cover the trail.”

“Patience, child,” he advised as he read the facts.  “The incident didn’t happen within his own wards.  I suspect the Assembly is getting careless. It’s been so long since we had a chance at him. Perhaps they think he is safe?”  He looked at Karoline, soliciting her opinion.

“Perhaps,” she agreed hesitantly.  “But do you want to take the chance—“

It was a venture, but less of a hazard than it once was. His Sorceri were getting better at luring Antemagenis away from their families.  There had been much less sensationalism about the kidnappings in the news lately since the Auctoritatis hadn’t found any more bodies. Most were of an age and temperament that they were classified as runaways. 

“If they do try to move him, it will just be as a precaution, and I suspect he will refuse to go. He’s not a five year old that they can control with a quick distraction. Not anymore.” 

“No he’s not,”  she agreed. 

He looked at her sharply.  Her eyes were glowing with excitement about the Septimus, but he felt no residue of power.  That was unusual.  He liked his people’s power where he could sense it, but today there was none.  Perhaps she was just tired.  She obviously had worked most of the night to bring him this information.

“I had begun to think he was a myth,” she said softly.

He watched for some betrayal of her magic but there was only silence.

She still did not look up at him from her place on the floor.  “Do you think the Assembly will try to move the girl?” she asked.

The Consul laughed.  “Definitely but they can’t hide her from him if he wishes to find her. He’s a Septimus.”

Karoline shifted, uncomfortably, but Sigerdlic did not offer to raise her to her feet. 

“He’s discovering powers within himself that he doesn’t understand and can’t completely control, but he’s exploring, learning, growing.  The fact that we saw this incident at all, says the Assembly can’t censure him any longer. They are not so mindless that they would have neglected to warn him of how sexual desires affect magic.  They should have kept him under wards. It’s not an accident the girl is magical, but I hardly would have thought a Quinta would be high enough to please him. 

“So you do think he found her, purposefully?”

“Oh yes, and if she’s the first magical person he’s had contact with in the Mundane world, everything in him will seek to claim her. He will soon have the means to do so.  We might be able to convince him to come willingly if they have separated him from this girl.  It would be easier to influence him in a new and unfamiliar place, when I can surround him with people of my choosing; Sorceri that will interest him.

Karoline wrapped one hand around the other, nervously.  “I see.  Are you willing to take the chance that we may lose him?”

He brought her to her feet. “Oh, you underestimate the Vŏlucris and the mirror watchers.  We will be vigilant, and strike when it is to our advantage.  The Assembly is cautious now.  Give them a week and they will think they’ve hidden their mistake. I am pleased, my child.  I will thank you properly after we have the prize.”  He kissed her sedately on the cheek.  The touch brought him confirmation of her nervousness.  Why?  She had done well.

She shifted, again.  “May I come home—“

“Of  course.  We’re expecting you at Litha, child.”

“No. I wanted to come before midsummer.  I meant for the Septimus’ Awakening?”  She looked up at him, green eyes entreating.

“I know you’ve taken a special interest in the Septimus for me, Karoline, but never forget he is mine.”  He stroked her hair.  He grasped a handful at the nape of her neck and turned her towards him.  “He has too much power for you to apprentice, little Sexta.  You are too young and too inexperienced; even if you were a high enough power level.  You would not have even been compatible as Awakening siblings, and he certainly wouldn’t see anything else of interest in you, Karoline. He is after all a Septimus, and quite beyond your musings.”

“I only wanted to see him.” she said. 

“I will deal with him now, Karoline.  He is no longer your concern.”

“Will he not be in an Ansŭlus, then?”

He released her sighing, “Perhaps, that will depend upon many things, but we know he is a wind caller.  He won’t have any mind powers to speak of which means he won’t be in your Ansŭlus in any case.  The Familia are expecting you at Litha. Most of your Ansŭlus will be there.  You may enjoy visiting and satisfy your curiosity about the Septimus then.”

“No.  That’s not what I meant.  I was wondering—Now that I’ve finished this task--can I stay?”  She looked so very young, like a child herself pleading for a boon, with her hair sticking up in random disarray. He thought that her womanly wiles were much more likely to be successful if she looked softer, more feminine; even so he was not one to give in to pleading.  He knew where she learned that imploring gaze.  She did not dare to try to use the magical version on him.

“Stay?”  He repeated.

“Please Pater?”

He tsked, still stroking her cheek.  “Have you not embraced the work ethic?  You cannot play yet, my dear child.  There is work to be done.”

Karoline sighed and leaned into the magic in his hand, kissing his palm. Her lips were cool and dry, not the usual moist warmth he expected from her water. “Mea Pater, Mea Altissimus Pater, Have I not pleased you enough by finding the Septimus to choose my own reward?” she asked, lips caressing his hand.  “I want to come home.”

“Perhaps for a visit, we shall see.  Now, about this girl he wants—she’s the unknown factor here. Do we know who she is?”

He felt Karoline’s anger flare at the mention of the girl, he expected a similar flare of magic; it was still controlled for now, but she was not happy.  “Beatrice.  Her name is Beatrice, low power and no discernable gifts.”

“What else do you know about her?”

“Her element is probably Earth, other than that, nothing.”

“Now that she has come to the attention of the Assembly, she will be watched, and we’ll have to wait to approach her.  By the time we know enough about her to make a proper replacement for her, the Septimus will be settled in his new home.”

“She was nothing without his touch.”

“Ahh—But how long has the Septimus known her to get to get to a point that he lost control of his magic?  Who shall I choose to entice him in his new surroundings? Have he and this girl been friends for weeks, months, dating even?  Or is the girl simply a slut? Was it friendship or is it just this modern-day promiscuity that led to the magical accident?  Do you see how this lack of information hinders me?”

“But I found him!”  Her green eyes blazed with anger but not with magic. “I did what you asked.” He had the distinct feeling she wanted to stomp her foot like a child.  She was so very young, but even the thought of resistance had to be tempered.

“Yes, you did.  The bare minimum of the task I set for you.”  He reached out, brushing power against her bare cheek.

Immediately, she shrank from him. Her magic was wide open for his taking, Elemental water dripping from her extended hands.  Her chest was heaving with tears.

“I’m sorry.  I just—I can’t stand it here.  I want to go home so badly.  Please Pater.”

It was too much reaction for the lack of severity of his censorship.  He had many a time, done worse with less reaction.  She was not usually one who cringed at his touch.

The lack of control was uncharacteristic. His eyes narrowed in disgust at her display.  “You are making a puddle,” he said rudely.  He could have taken the magic from her.  It could have been pleasant for him and easier for her, but he was not in the habit of making anything easier for his people.  She should not be in tears.  Something—something more than what was readily visible--was wrong. 

He let her struggle to pull the minimal magic back inside of herself, to make it fit where it didn’t want to go. She swallowed hard, eyes watering with effort.  For a moment he thought she would spew magic at his feet like an untried Antemagena, but she knew the consequences of such actions, and she managed to pull the magic inside of herself, pain showing in the tightness of her lips and the grimace on her face.  For only a moment her face held the strange translucent quality that magic users whose element was water got when they were stressed and then, her face became normal.

“You’re out of practice,” he said.  “Have you called your Ansŭlus?”

“They’ve been here,” she said.  “Checking up on me.”  She sounded annoyed.  The petulance did not become her.

“It appears that you needed them.”

She did not reply, but he tasted the wash of fear in the air.  She shook her head in the negative and he frowned.

“Explain yourself. I thought you coveted Jonathan’s position?”

“I do,” she said, “I did.  I thought I did, but the children here are so insipid.  Even the powerful ones are like toy soldiers all in a row. I can’t bring them to their full potential.  It’s all so impossible here. . . I miss your children,” she continued fervently and he felt the truth in her claims.  “I miss the creativity…the individuality…”  Her voice rose in passion as she clung to his hand, magic crackling, but she did not allow evidence of her element to escape.  “I miss the magic. I miss the Nobodies.”

“Don’t call them that,” he snapped.

“I miss you.  I want to come home,” she persisted.

Who would replace Jonathan if I bring you home?”

“I have someone in mind for Jonathan’s position—“ she said too quickly.

“Do you now?” he said reasonably as he stroked her cheek.

He could feel her tension in the steadily increasing rhythm of her heart, and it excited him, but her voice was steady.  There was still no bleed off of magic, only what he had taken.  Curious.

“The man’s name is Hagen”  she continued “and he could replace me instead of Jonathan.”

He did not like the softness in her voice when she spoke of Jonathan.  She spoke like a woman besotted, yet there was no evidence of such in her magic.  Unease stirred in him and he trailed his fingers to her throat and slowly brought his lips against the warm hollow there imagining the taste of blood and magic. 

She stiffened, uneasy.

Why was she uneasy?  “If you attempt persuasion—“ he began, but she interrupted, horrified. 

“No, Pater,  I wouldn’t—“  From long practice, she opened herself a little more to him as if to reassure him of her honesty.

“Good,” he soothed, stroking her face and caressing her magic as Sorceri did of old.

She had not moved, nor had she tried to hide from him, but her heart was beating as if she were running a race and he began to taste sweat mixed with the magic on her skin; magic that was not all hers. He continued with intimate touches searching her magic for lies or deception.

”Why so little about the Septimus?”

“I found him!”

“And why have you found him?”

“For you Pater.”

He cupped her face in his hands, but held back his gaze, giving her time to confess.  “I think you are attempting to hold something back from me.” 

She licked her lips.  Magic and fear were on her tongue.

She was his, and he would have her guilty thoughts.

**

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