The Dark Cycle 2: Opening Gambit
Prologue: 1994
He awoke to a soft light that came from panels in the surface a few inches above him. He had not expected to awake, and it was this that occupied his thoughts for the first few moments.
He had slain the creature he called his father, brutally, with his bare hands. It had been, by then, for more than revenge. It had been for the humanity he himself no longer felt a part of.
Then his half-sister had come to him. She had claimed to have grown beyond all lust for power, and yet the first thing she had done was demand his power of him – the power of Hope he had not known he possessed. So he had impaled himself on his own blade, freeing the power among those who needed it. The mortals whose world his vengeance had all but shattered. With his last strength, he had pulled himself over the cliff and plunged into the dark violence of the unchained sea.
Then there had been darkness. A darkness, finally, void of the nightmares that had tormented him for years. But now he was awake again. Not dead, even now. Well, he was a Spartan, and if he was to be denied death, then he would face life as a warrior should.
He seemed to be in some kind of box, laid on soft cushions, with the glowing underside of the lid above him. He raised his hands to push at the lid and, as if sensing his movement, the thing slid smoothly aside. There was only darkness outside, but as he sat up, lights came on.
Crystal lamps like those of Olympus lit a large room like many he had seen on that mountain. He climbed out of the box, a thing like an elaborate sarcophagus, of the kind the Pharaohs of Khem were interred in. As he moved around the room, he was conscious of his strength returning.
Finding a mirror, he examined himself. His body was as tall and powerful as ever, his face unchanged, his skin still ashen-white save where the red spiral tattoo marked it. But the great scars on his torso from the three death-wounds he had suffered were gone, as if they had never been.
Then the image in the mirror clouded over and changed. Facing him now was a woman, a superb, dark-haired beauty in clothing carefully calculated to reveal much, and hint at what little was concealed.
"Aphrodite." He growled, feeling the old anger rise.
"Kratos." The woman replied. "There is no point speaking, beloved, I cannot hear you. I left this world long ago, along with those few of my family you neglected to slaughter. This is merely a message.
"I retrieved your corpse from the sea. Oh, but it was a joy to hear the frustrated howls of Athene when you robbed her! She was ever her father's daughter, else she would have Ascended fully, and no longer been concerned with your fate, or that of Earth.
"I placed you in the sarcophagus, knowing that it would revive you. It is a device we use to renew the health and vigour of ourselves and our hosts, but over-use of it takes away our sanity. Hephaistos, though useless as a husband, was a great craftsman, and he built two special sarcophagi, one for each of us, that avoided this effect. It is the one he built for himself that you have rested in. I wanted you sane.
"And now you are wondering why? I have been loved by both gods and men, Kratos, but none of them matched you. That is one reason." Aphrodites' eyes suddenly flashed with a strange inner light, and her voice became deeper, guttural, alien. "The other reason was revenge, Ghost of Sparta. You wake in a world some thousands of years after you left it. All that you knew is gone. All that is left is the world you made when you gave hope to the pathetic humans. Go, see what you have made, and may you find it the Hell you deserve!"
The light faded, and her voice returned to normal. "Do not seek me out, Kratos. If I am still alive, I am far away, and this host, at least, will be long dead. I am not wholly cruel. There are devices in the other chamber which will allow you to learn something of this world before you venture forth. I would have you survive here long enough to suffer at least a little."
Chapter One
"A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct. " (A Manual of Muad'Dib by the Princess Irulan)
"He must be removed from the equation, he is the greatest danger to our plans!" Arabella Riddle spoke in the tone of a woman who has already explained the same thing far too often.
"I'm sure you have your reasons for thinking so, Arabella." The Master of the Scholomance replied. "But are you sure they aren't purely personal reasons?
"Do you seriously wish us to consider Harry Potter a greater danger than Charles Xavier, the Avengers, SHIELD, Sir John Steed or Dr Strange? To name but a few?
"What do your fellow wizards think? Mr Arkham?"
The bald, scarred man with the mismatched eyes shrugged. "I wouldn't take him on, but then my speciality is ritual magic, not spellcasting. I can't answer for the others."
Justin DuMorne frowned. "We cannot forget that Potter was a favoured pupil of Albus Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard ever to refuse a seat on the White Council." He noted. "His skills and abilities certainly match those of my own former pupil, Harry Dresden, though he has less raw power. Or perhaps controls it better. He is not a wizard I would challenge lightly, but I do not see him as being a real threat to us all.
"Baron?"
"I could crush him with a thought." Said Mordo flatly.
Arabella was about to offer an angry retort when help came from an unexpected quarter. From the muggle side of the table, Heinrich Blofeld spoke up.
"I believe you have all missed the point that Fraulein Riddle is trying to make." He said quietly. "Herr DuMorne and the Herr Baron may be correct in their assessment of Herr Potters' magical abilities, but these are only a part of the threat he represents.
"I am a member of this body in part because of my ability to collect intelligence. As such, I have taken care to assemble as much information as I can about potential threats. All potential threats. You will agree, I think, that as Head of the Auror Division of the British Ministry of Magic, Herr Potter comes under that heading. On that basis, I completed a threat assessment." He laid his hand on a thick file that was on the table in front of him. "Should anyone wish to read the full report, they may do so later. For now, I will summarise.
"Harry Potter became head of the Auror Division in 2007, at a remarkably young age. He had already been official liaison between that force and the muggle Special Branch. After the events of 2008, he was in the forefront of those pressing for closer contact between the wizard and muggle worlds. As such, he is personally known to Colonel Steve Rogers, of SHIELD and Kate Stewart, Head of the UK branch of UNIT. He is also known, at least by reputation, to many members of the White Council.
"However, this is not all. By virtue of a highly classified mission in 2012 -a mission the details of which I am unable to ascertain – he forged other contacts. Most notably for our purposes with personnel from NCIS -the American Naval Criminal Investigation Service – and Stargate Command. On a more personal, but perhaps even more significant, level, he has developed warm personal friendships with the demon-hunter Dante Sparda, the Immortal Duncan MacLeod, Mr Antony Stark, alias Iron Man, and the Grimm Nicholas Burkhardt. Herr Potter is well-known and respected at the United States Federal Bureau of Sorcery, the French Bureau des Sorcieres, and the Bundes Zaubererschaftministerium in Berlin. More importantly, he has equal regard with the NYPD, the FBI, Scotland Yard, MI5, SHIELD, UNIT, the Sanctuary Network and Mossad.
"Given this network of contacts – and these are the known ones – Herr Potter is perhaps uniquely placed to uncover our plans before they come to fruition. It is vital that the forces we must face do not begin to act together until it is too late. Herr Potter is perhaps the one man capable of ensuring that this happens. I am therefore forced to concur with Fraulein Riddle – this player must be removed from the board.
"As a final point," here, Blofeld directed his deceptively sleepy gaze at the Master, "it is rumoured that Herr Potter is also known to the individual known as The Doctor."
Only an expert -and Blofeld was one – would have noticed the sudden tension in the Master. His shrug and tone were apparently careless as he said "Very well. Kill him."
"Nein." This was the Red Skull, who now leaned forward. "Such an act would be strategically unsound. If, as Blofeld says, Potter is known and admired by so many, his death- even if apparently an accident – would trigger too wide-ranging and intense an investigation. The very unification of forces we must at all costs avoid. As indeed would his disappearance. He must be neutralised some other way. What weaknesses does he have?"
"Oh, trust me, I know his weaknesses!" Arabella told them. "I've studied Potter for a long time. He can be, as you say, neutralised without physically harming him in any way.
"Besides, I don't want him dead. I want him to live to a ripe old age, so he can watch the world he built on my parents' graves torn down and rebuilt in their image!
"I will need back-up, though."
She turned to Blofeld, who nodded. "The resources of SPECTRE are at your disposal."
One of the advantages of living in a middle-class area is that schools tend to be well-supported. Well enough supported, for instance, to run Summer Clubs for kids with working Mums. This is a vital service for some families, but for others, like the Potters, it's just a handy convenience for the days Mum absolutely has to go into the office.
Ginny had an editorial meeting at the Prophet this afternoon, so she had dropped James, Albus and Lily off after lunch. Now they sat outside, waiting to be picked up. Mum was late, but not scarily so, and there were staff around keeping a discreet eye on them. So they were not disposed to be too worried when they were approached by a tall, dark-haired woman in a business suit.
Arabella had watched the children earlier that afternoon, as they'd played outside. The eldest, James, who would be about nine, was something of an amalgam, having his fathers' untidy black hair, but his mothers' brown eyes and the rangy build and sharp features of a Weasley. Eight-year-old Albus was in all respects his fathers' son; compact and agile, with even features, raven hair and piercing green eyes. Lily, at six, was Ginny Potter in miniature -a sleek, powerful little girl with fiery hair and sparkling brown eyes.
"Hello." Arabella said to the children. "You're the Potter kids, aren't you? My name's Arabella Thompson. Your Mum sent me. She's been held up at the office and she asked me to come and fetch you."
She had spoken clearly, so that the staff member hovering nearby could hear. It all depended now on the childrens' reaction. Not that she couldn't deal with the young muggle woman who had begun to move closer, but it would be better to be more discreet. Potter would spot the effects of a hex a mile off, and who knew what magical protections he had put on his children?
The kids studied her. James and Lily both had expressions of frank distrust, but Albus' icy green gaze seemed to go through her like a muggle X-Ray. He'll grow to be every bit as dangerous as his father. Arabella reflected.
"Mummy says we're not to talk to strangers." Lily announced.
"But I'm not a stranger!" Arabella protested. "I work with your Mum at the Prophet. I'm an Editorial Assistant, if you know what that is."
"I do." James said. "But we know the people Mum works with. She's had them all over for tea or dinner at some point. We get Christmas cards from them."
"Ah, well I'm new, you see!" Arabella announced triumphantly.
"Well, in that case," Albus put in, "Mum wouldn't have sent you. She'd've sent somebody we know. Or she'd have used her mobile to call Dad, or Auntie 'Mione!"
This was a facer. Arabella had never expected that a Pureblood witch like Ginny Weasley would have had a mobile phone. But maybe they meant a mirror. Even so, these youngsters were sharper than she'd imagined. Maybe she should have used one of the SPECTRE agents – one who had family. She was unused to children who openly questioned adult authority in this manner, she'd been raised in Latveria, where kids did as they were told.
Then the staff member was there, and the children were explaining what was going on. Arabella repeated her story, but was feeling for her wand.
"I think," the staff member was saying, "that we'd all better come inside while I contact Mrs Potter and confirm this."
Arabella was preparing the Imperius Curse when a large shadow fell across them all and a deep male voice said, "Is there a problem here?".
Lily gave a squeal of pure delight. "Uncle Kratos!" She flung herself into the arms of the big man in the dark suit, threw her arms around his burly neck and planted a smacking kiss on his cheek. The boys also crowded round, equally, if less demonstratively, pleased to see the newcomer.
Arabella studied this new element. The man called Kratos stood around six feet tall, but looked stocky due to his broad shoulders and powerful build. He wore a dark, conservatively-cut suit over a white shirt, but no tie. His head was hairless, his face strong to the point of brutality. Oddly, his skin was dead white, except for some kind of tattoo which began above one eye and disappeared into his shirt collar at the side of his neck.
Kratos kissed Lily gently, stroked her hair and set her down, where she promptly attached herself to his leg. The staff member looked him up and down, then asked. "You're the childrens' uncle?"
"Not technically." Kratos replied. "I'm a friend of the family. Kratos Spartides."
He handed her a business card, which she perused.
"Personal security and restorations?" She asked. "You're a bodyguard? Why doesn't that surprise me?"
There was a light blush on the young womans' cheeks and her eyes were bright as she looked at Kratos. Arabella wasn't surprised, she was aware of a frisson herself. The man was an almost perfect image of primal masculinity. Then he met her eyes. His were dark brown, oddly flecked with green and they told her three things. First, that he knew what she was. Second, he didn't care what she was. Third, if she didn't back off, things were going to get messy.
The muggle girl was saying. "Unfortunately, I don't know you Mr Spartides. Obviously, the children do, but we have rules..."
"Of course." He replied courteously. "Why don't you go inside and contact Ginny - Mrs Potter? I'm sure she'll say it's OK for me to mind the kids till she gets here."
"Oh!" Albus interrupted. "Here comes Mum now! She's got Auntie River with her!"
"Ah!" Arabella said. "She must have got out of the meeting sooner than she expected. I'd best be on my way, then!"
She walked off, quickly, in the opposite direction.
"Knew she was a fake!" Albus stated flatly. "She had a funny accent!"
"Well, so do I." Kratos told him.
"That's different." The boy replied insouciantly, then dashed off to hug his mother.
"I'm sorry I'm late." Ginny was telling the children. "Something went wrong on the Tube and the trains were stopped. I came up to find somewhere I could phone from, and met up with Auntie River. She very kindly gave me a lift, and here I am!"
"S'OK, Mum." James told her. "This funny woman came up and told us you'd sent her to fetch us, but we didn't believe her. Then Uncle Kratos came and scared her!"
Ginny finally registered Kratos' presence, and her face lit with a beam. She dashed over and hugged him tight.
"Kratos!" She exclaimed. "I didn't think we'd see you again! Harry will be chuffed! How did you get here?"
"Long story." He told her. "Right now, though, these children require feeding, I'm sure."
"Meaning," she replied, "that you do as well? Men are so transparent! Kratos, this is my friend River. River, this is Kratos."
The attractive blonde offered Kratos her hand, while devouring him with her eyes.
"Dr Song." He acknowledged.
"You know me?" She asked.
"I'm familiar with your work, especially in Greece. I have a long-term interest in Greek antiquities." Kratos said blandly.
River eyed him narrowly. "Yes." She said. "I'll just bet you do! Bit of a Greek antiquity yourself, if I'm right."
"You have no idea!" He answered with a grim smile.
"Oh," she countered, "I always have an idea. Sometimes several!"
"Are you coming back with us, Kratos?" Ginny asked. "Harry will be disappointed if you don't at least have dinner with us."
"Oh, please, Uncle Kratos!" Lily pleaded.
"Well, put like that, how can I refuse?" Kratos said. "I need to speak with Harry, anyway. I'm parked over here."
He was, in fact parked close to where River and Ginny were. Ginny promptly started a debate by announcing: "Right, then! Who wants to ride in Auntie Rivers' Ferrari and who wants to go in Uncle Kratos' Jeep?"
Kratos and River were only thankful that the law required children to travel in the back. The arguments about who had or hadn't called shotgun would have made the discussion even longer, and louder.