Chapter 9
The portal closed
Sveta looked at Semyon. "Not even a kiss goodbye..", and she smiled at Nadya....but Sem could see she was crying inside.
Anton was on his own now. Sveta poured milk into a glass and began to sip it absent mindedly.
"So now what Sem?"
I do not really know. Somehow I do not think calling in at the office would be a good idea at the moment. I wish I knew what was happening there at the moment, I haven't been in for a few days now."
The knock at the door startled them both. Sveta shielded as a reflex reaction, and bustled Nadya into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She pressed her ear to the door as Semyon answered the knock. Then some talking. She breathed a sigh of relief as she recognised the voice, and came back out of the room, Nadya following.
The man stood in the hall way was adjusting his glasses. "Sveta, I'm glad your here".
"Ilya....what brings you here."
Semyon spoke. "He has brought us some information."
Ilya looked between them both. "It's not good....Gesar has closed the watch."
"What?" Sveta didn't grasp what Ilya has said immediately. "Closed the watch, but why?"
"He's told everyone to go home, and shut the office down."
"But what about the Dark Ones?! Who's checking on them? Anything could happen!"
"Its all the watches.....all the watches in the world are standing down. Gesar left this afternoon to go to the Inquisition world headquarters. They have called a convocation of all the leaders. Even the Dark watch is closed."
She didn't need to ask who 'they' were. It wasn't so much as 'they' but 'who'. Only one person had the power to close the watches temporarily, even then the existence of the Inquisition master was almost myth. She thought about the things Anton had told her and glanced at Nadya. She knew, had a gut feeling, all this wasn't because of her little girl, or even the Edinburgh incident, it was something much, much bigger. But she was at a loss when it came to thinking of what it could be.
Maybe Olga......
Sveta reached for her mobile and dialled Olga's number. All she got was the voicemail.
"Her phone's off." she said, as she hung up.
Ilya looked at Semyon.
"I'm at a loss what to do now" he said. "It's been so long since I joined the Watches I don't know what to do with all the extra leisure time." He smirked. "Maybe I should have taken my holiday entitlements more, for practice."
Semyon laughed. "Entitlements, as if Boris would give us any."
Even Sveta smiled. "Well it at least means one thing, me and Nadya should be fine going home. Thanks for everything Sem and I'm grateful..." she looked knowingly at him ".....and I know Anton is to."
Ilya nodded to Semyon. "I must go to. Just to let you know there is a few of us going to meet up in two or three days time. Mainly just for socialising but it will probably end up being a brainstorming session....see if we can make any sense from all this."
Sveta glanced at Semyon again before she spoke. "Is it alright if I come along? I.....may know something, although it might not mean anything...."
Ilya raised an eyebrow. "Is it the thing with Anton?"
Sveta looked shocked. "What......?"
"Sveta.....we all know Gesar was doing something earlier, you cant use that much power without it being felt. And Anton was there. We don't know what was happening but it doesn't take much common sense to know something major went down in there."
She frowned. "Then why didn't anyone do anything?"
Ilya raised an eyebrow. "We couldn't....and I'm guessing neither could you at the time."
Sveta sighed. "It's ok Ilya, I know you couldn't. I'm just frustrated at it all..." she waved her hands about her head "...Its not knowing what the hell its all about that's so....so..."
Semyon nodded. "I know, but I daresay we will find out...soon enough...."
It was cold in the cargo hold but she couldn't travel in the cabin. Even heavily disguised, magical and non-magical, Boris would still recognise her. She was glad she remembered to bring the deep cold survival suit, the type worn by crab fishermen who work on the Bering sea. Although some thirty-five thousand feet above the water the temperature was about the same. Sneaking aboard was easy enough, she had always been good at not being seen, but getting comfortable afterwards, surrounded by baggage and boxes, wasn't as easy. She was just glad the hold was pressurised, even with the air tank and breathing through the twilight it would have been a close thing with the oxygen supply.
Olga shifted position and stuck her hands, heavily gloved, under her head, trying to grab a nap. She always hated long haul flights when in the cabin, but this was many times worse. She sucked a boiled sweet to try and alleviate the clogged up feeling in them, the engines sounded loud but muffled, she wanted to here any sound changes in them, indicating the planes arrival, so she could be prepared to get away quickly.
Turbulence shook the plane, Olga felt slightly nauseated, the sweet helped that to. And now she needed to pee. Cold, miserable, uncomfortable......but there was no way she was going to let Boris go into this alone, even if he didn't know it yet......
Gesar sipped a mineral water as he gazed out of the plane window, the commercial airline he was travelling on a last minute decision, knowing he would be followed. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts. Too much was happening too fast. He didn't realise how much he had previously relied on his predictive abilities, without them he was adrift.
Guilt still stung, but he wasn't going to admit it, not even to himself. Gesar looked around the cabin at the mix of passengers on board. He could vaguely feel another Other somewhere, but he couldn't pinpoint where. He knew who it was though, but she was disguised well, he couldn't find her anywhere amongst the passengers.
He sipped his water again, taking two sleeping tablets and reclining his seat. This might be the last chance he would have to grab a little shut-eye for days, maybe the rest of his life.....depending how long it was going to be. As the tablets began to take hold he couldn't help smiling at the irony of the situation, he had given Anton seven days, he might not have that long himself. Outlived by the sacrificial lamb. Not a comforting thought.
Gesar's eyelids grew heavy. He let himself drift off to sleep, lulled by the quiet drone of the engines.
Zabulon sat in his private car, the chauffeur silent in the front. The airfield was just ahead, Zabulon's personal jet waited on the tarmac, fuelled and ready.
Perfect efficiency. He hated anything less.
His mobile phone pinged with an incoming text message. Zabulon read it and smiled. Things moved apace. He rubbed at a new scar on his arm, the deep scratch had helped him to focus and was easy to heal. He text back to the sender then switched off his phone. The chauffeur glanced in the rear view mirror at the Dark Watch Leader. "Sir, we have arrived."
Zabulon nodded. The car pulled to a halt, the chauffeur climbed out and held open the rear door. Zabulon glided out, carrying a small bag and a briefcase. He stepped onto the small flight of stairs leading up to the jets awaiting entrance. Expressionlessly he past the flight attendants and sat in his favourite seat.
With no announcement the jet engines powered up and the plane taxied down the runway, take-off was equally without drama as the rest of the journey had been so far, emotionless, efficient.
Zabulon was far from emotionless. His guts broiled in turmoil, a complete contrast to the stone hard exterior view. Without knowing it, he was assailed by the same doubts and worries his Light counterpart was also experiencing. But unlike his opposite, he couldn't accept it. He loathed it. The Inquisition were calling the shots now though. He felt himself being sucked into the maelstrom the same way as everyone else.
As the plate hit a small bump of turbulence Zabulon clenched his fists, digging his nails into the palms of his hands. Tiny droplets of blood welled up, he licked them away, savouring the metallic aftertaste on his tongue. But his teeth momentarily chattered. He growled. Nerves were not for showing, they were for controlling. That didn't stop the chills fleetingly travelling up his spine though. Doubts......were not efficient.........
The Master Inquisitor stood silently by the book. Its enclosure of clear, five inch thick bulletproof plastic was clearly humming, powered by the vibrating tome in its centre. There had been no change in its status. The lack of it was a concern in itself. The book lay open at its next empty page, seemingly acquiescent and waiting. It was definitely waiting for something.
Was he making the right decision? Preventing the Watches from using the Twilight would reduce its power. Not many of the Others knew that using the twilight drew off a small amount of power from them, power they had channelled from humans themselves. It was why the lower levels were difficult for most of them to reach, the lower the level, the more power was drawn from them. It was how the twilight fed, how it maintained itself. There would still be Others using it, those not bound by the Watches, but as the twilight was predominantly used for Watch business it would severely limit its intake. Maybe even stop it absorbing Others.
He touched his buzzing earpiece, he wore it at all times now. The latest losses figures were coming through. Another five thousand gone in one day. It was increasing in speed, now level fives, sixes and three's were beginning to disappear, only about ten percent of level fours were left in some areas. It was becoming desperate.
And beyond all that were his own plans.
The Master Inquisitor knew the Twilight was searching for someone, the same someone he had been searching for himself for centuries. He shuddered, the feeling that both plans, the twilight and his, would clash soon. But which one of them would get the person they were looking for? He didn't want to think what would happen if it wasn't him.
His earpiece buzzed again, announcing the arrival times of the first of the Watch heads. He issued commands back quickly, dictating accommodation arrangement changes he felt necessary, certain factions within his own kind still held animosity to each other, he wanted them separating. The last thing he needed now was long running disputes boiling over in the heat of the moment. Especially when the seals were set. And they would be.
He rubbed his chest. For some it would be harder than others, himself included. But he had never baulked at a little 'knife work' when needed, no matter what the outcome.
'Knife work'. There was going to be a lot of cutting over the next few days........but would the 'patient' survive?
