The Wizard and the Void - Chapter Fifteen
Author: Milady Dragon
Clint didn't think he'd ever get used to teleporting.
Yes, it was useful when traveling long distances, but there was something about it that made him a little nauseous every single time.
However, there was something about the spell on the bracelet that made him a little extra nauseous this time, but he managed to hide it. Clint supposed it hadn't been enchanted for comfort, although Phil looked as unaffected as the archer hoped he, himself, did.
In fact, Phil looked very un-Phil-like at the moment.
While he'd only been around the new version of Phil Coulson for only a few hours, there was something jarring about the man who stood beside him now. Yes, Clint had known his persona of the Dark One a lot longer, but Phil Coulson had been his true self, and the Elf had been honored at being allowed to see that side of his old friend. He'd…well, loved it, not to put too fine a point on it, realizing that this caring man had been hidden under all those layers of Void Wizard that had been a part of Clint's life for years. He'd seen it, but then Clint often saw things better than anyone else, and to be honest it had only been a hint of the man who now inhabited the familiar body of the Void Wizard.
Phil was now endearing, as well as gorgeous.
But he'd pulled on the old mask that the Dark One had been known for. Clint could see just what a bad fit it was now, although he doubted anyone else would. They also wouldn't notice the missing anger, that had once inhabited every action the Dark One had taken. The preternatural calm was back, though, as was the implied threat to the world at large, but it was apparent – to Clint, anyway, who'd known him back then – that the anger was gone.
He'd have to thank Daisy when he saw her again, for bringing out the man Phil should have been all along.
Clint stood just behind Phil's left shoulder, Lola sitting at attention at the Wizard's feet, as they appeared at their destination. It was a large room, an open foyer of a sort, with a sweeping staircase along one side leading up to a large balcony-like area that had a couple of doors leading into rooms and what appeared to be a hallway off to the left. The foyer itself had one room off to the side, while the area itself led deeper into the building and what had to be even more rooms that he couldn't see from where he was standing. An enormous chandelier lit the expansive area, gleaming down onto dark wood furniture and leather chairs. The carpet itself was a light gray.
A man stood, waiting. He was as tall as Phil, with dark hair and eyes, stocky but not out of shape and wearing black formal Wizard's robes. A brown and black dragon was crouched at the man's feet, but Clint caught the moment it noticed there was an Elf in the room by the slight creeping movement it made toward him.
He barely hid a smirk. Yep, every time.
The man greeted them with a big, insincere smile. "Phil! I see you decided to join us." The smile slipped as he took in Clint's appearance. "And I see you decided to bring someone along, despite us asking you not to."
From where Clint was standing, he couldn't see Phil's expression, but he could imagine the single, raised eyebrow. "And you honestly expected me to agree to that?" His voice was calm, deadly calm.
The smile turned decidedly sly. "Of course not. But an Elf? Really?"
Clint didn't let the man's demeaning tone bother him. He'd heard much worse.
"Then you apparently don't know who you're dealing with," Phil countered. He didn't elaborate, which seemed to irritate the Wizard even though he attempted to hide it. "John, certainly we have better things to do than to question my choice of companions."
Ah, so this was Master John Garrett. Clint didn't want to be impressed, but there was something about the man that had his internal alarms jangling. He was definitely going to be keeping an eye on the asshole.
"You're right," Garrett answered, as if was conceding gracefully, when in fact he wasn't. "Shall we meet the others?"
He waved an arm toward the rear of the house. Phil simply waited for the other man to move, which Garrett did. Phil stayed three steps behind, which showed good sense.
Not on Garrett's part, though. The Dark One had been extremely dangerous in his time. Showing that particular Wizard his back was either incredibly stupid, or fatally arrogant.
Probably both, in this case.
Garrett led them past the staircase and into a wide hall, with doors on either side, some of them open. Clint kept a surreptitious eye out, noticing an ornate dining area, with a single long table down the center of the room; a smaller sitting room that would have been cozy anywhere else but there; and what was an ostentatiously decorated privy, all done in black and gold…which really was also extremely tacky. There were a couple of closed doors, one at least the Elf was willing to bet led to some sort of casting chamber just from the vibe he was getting from it.
"I see you've built this place right on top of a Void Point," he commented blandly.
Ah, so that was what was wrong. From the moment they'd appeared, Clint had noticed something strange about their surroundings, as if the shadows were moving. Being on a Void Point would certainly explain why the archer was feeling slightly creeped out.
Normally, Void magic didn't bother him; after all, he was…infatuated with a pretty powerful Void Wizard, and there really wasn't a thing creepy with Phil Coulson. Back in the day, he'd been angry and callous and careless, but Clint had even known at the time that that had been some sort of personality he'd worn to cover up an unknown inner pain…and now, he knew he'd been correct in what he'd seen. But there hadn't been any sign of strangeness in him, not like what was going on around them now.
It really was taking everything within him not to have his bow out, arrow on the string.
What was keeping him from doing that was Phil's calmness, and that extended itself to Lola, who walked proudly by Phil's side, head held high, as if she was the Mother of all Dragons, the very Queen of Air and Fire, herself. Dragons could be an excellent window onto a Wizard's inner emotions, so either Phil was feeling just as arrogant or that dragon knew how to act.
Their escort gave a wide grin over his shoulder. "We simply found the place, but the Void Point does come in useful. Keeps anyone from detecting the sorts of magical experiments we do here."
Experiments?
No, that wasn't worrying at all.
Garrett took them to a room at the far end of the house. The door was open, revealing what seemed to be some sort of conference room, another table – this one round – taking up a large part of the space. There were shelves, with glassed-in doors, along one wall, filled with what had to have been magical books, scrolls, and artifacts.
There was a drinks cabinet against another wall, bottles lining its racks, stemware hanging upside down from the lower rack and rock crystal glasses resting on the bar, ready for use.
A massive window looked out over a large bay, the sun gleaming on the placid water. If Clint was any judge, they were somewhere on the western coast, from the angle of the sun. It was a gorgeous view. Too bad it was a view from a hidden lair of evil.
There were three other men and a woman seated at the table. Standing against the far wall were four younger looking Wizards, three women and a man, various dragons spread about the room in different poses of readiness, including a group of five identical ones that seemed to be part of a whole, just from the way they interacted with one another.
Each and every dragon turned the moment they entered the room, but Clint knew it was because of him. He inwardly smirked, knowing that he automatically had a defense against reach and every dragon in the room. As matter of fact, two of the five identical dragons, which were all an almost pale white, were instantly all over Clint, and he couldn't help but reach up and give them each a skritch as they rested on his shoulders.
The younger man looked put out, while Garrett rolled his eyes. "Can't control your dragons, Grant?"
Grant didn't look pleased at being called out like that, especially when two of the other dragons also made their way over, to demand the Elf's attention.
"John," one of the men chided gently. He was an older man, with reddish hair heavily dusted with gray.
Clint recognized him instantly.
Grand Master Alexander Pierce, head of all of Void Order.
Well, shit. It seemed as if Nick had been right about not contacting him, although the reason for it had been the wrong one.
Phil ignored everyone else, to pin his gaze on Pierce. "I would like to say this is a surprise, Alexander, but it really isn't."
It was Pierce's turn to not be best pleased, and this time it was by Phil's familiarity. "Master Phil," he said, instead of doing the whole chiding thing, "we're glad you could join us. Please…have a seat. Would you care for wine? Or a stronger spirit?"
"No, thank you." The Void Wizard made those three simple words sound as if he'd just found some particularly nasty smelling shit on the sole of his boot. "I would, however, like to get on with business. I'd really appreciate being able to get home by dinnertime. I understand there's going to be lamb."
One of men – Clint was pretty sure it was Master Gideon Malick, head of Void Order for the Western Lands, although he'd only seen the man once – let his eyes flicker toward Pierce, then back to Phil. He also didn't look at all happy by their 'guest's' attitude, which was like a big old fuck you to everyone in the room.
Really, it was a thing of beauty. Clint was so glad that Nick had insisted him come along, even though he was still a bit mad at Phil for faking his death.
"Then, let me introduce you to the rest of our group –" Pierce began.
"No need," Phil cut him off. "I know who you all are."
Well, Clint wished he did.
As if reading his mind, Phil began reeling off names. "We have Master Gideon Malick, head of Void Order," he nodded toward the man, confirming Clint's own memories. The man was also older, a bit stockier than Pierce, with intense eyes and a jowly face.
"Master Daniel Whitehall."
That man had gray hair, and wore round, wire-rimmed spectacles. This man was smiling, but it was a like watching a snake preparing to lunge for his prey. He was fashionably dressed in a tunic suit and matching trousers, and was handsome in an oily way.
"Mistress Catherine Hale."
That was the lone woman at the table. She was blonde, sitting ramrod straight, and Clint was willing to bet she'd once been in a branch of the military. Today, she was dressed all in black, like everyone there, and it was like the biggest cliché about Void Wizards ever.
Not that Phil fell into that cliché. Mainly by dint of him being drop dead gorgeous in black.
"And, of course, Master John Garrett."
"Saved the best for last, huh?" Garrett joked.
Clint thought that he might be the first to benefit from an arrow in the eye.
"And your guest?" Pierce inquired, trying to sound friendly but it slipped a little, revealing just how unhappy he was at Phil showing him up.
Phil didn't say a word. The small, fuck you, smile was loud and clear.
"Actually," Whitehall spoke up, "I believe this might be the infamous mercenary, known as the Hawk."
Clint didn't respond, except to keep on lavishing loves on the dragons who'd broken ranks and had collapsed under his Elvish charms.
"He doesn't look like much," one of the children, a brightly blonde girl with sharp features, commented. Clint could tell at once that she was a bit more than a Wizard; she held herself like a fighter. He'd have to watch out for her.
Usually, he would have smacked her down, either verbally or physically, but he and Phil were currently in the bad guys' lair and he didn't want to risk a confrontation.
Not at the moment, at least.
"Ruby," Hale cautioned, voice cracking with anger, doing Clint's job for him.
Ruby sniffed, but she backed off. Either she was Hale's Novice, or her daughter, from their resemblance to each other. The Elf thought it might have been both.
Just as he was certain that the other blonde girl and Malick were also related. It was obvious, and Phil most likely realized it as well.
"And these are our Novices," Pierce said. "Grant Ward…Stephanie Malick…Raina…and Ruby Hale."
Yep, Clint had been right about the parental connections.
So, these were Hydra. To Clint, it made sense. Having Pierce involved meant that they could have been working underground for a lot longer than anyone may have thought, with the Grand Master of Voids protecting them. Pierce was also ostensibly the most powerful Void Wizard currently alive, although he rather thought Phil was that much more powerful. And being on this Void Point was likely only making him more powerful.
"Shall we get down to business, then?" Pierce suggested. His irritation had been covered up by a superior smile, as if he had a secret that they weren't going to like. That set off even more alarm bells in Clint's instincts and, when Phil took a seat at the table, Clint stood just behind him, watching his back. It was a good thing no one had told him to leave, because that would have caused a major source of mayhem if they had.
He sent the dragons back to their masters, then settled in to keep his eye on proceedings. It wouldn't do to miss something because he was distracted by dragons.
"As Master John might have told you," Pierce began, "we think we may have found a way to create our own version of the Deathless."
"That's what he said, yes," Phil said, sounding almost bored. "Although, I have to doubt that, to be honest. Everyone knows the conditions that brought about the Deathless cannot be repeated. It's been tried."
The crafty expression on Pierce's face had Clint stiffening. "And to be honest right back, we think it's already been done. To you."
What?
Phil was silent, but Lola…Lola, who had taken up a position next to Clint, the better to be closer to her Wizard, let out such a shriek that everyone in the room jumped. The Elf knelt beside her, wrapping an arm around her as she wailed, loss and pain and terror echoing in her cries. Clint had never seen a dragon so distressed before, and he cuddled her close, his dedication to not being distracted lost as he tried to comfort her.
A hand came down, touching Lola on the head, silencing her as completely as if Phil had cast a Silence spell on her. The hand was perfectly still, not giving any indication that what Pierce had claimed was shocking, or that he was affected by Lola's cries.
Instead, there was laughter.
It was cold, and disdainful, and it was a sound that Clint had heard from the Dark One before…but not Phil. His Phil, the man he'd decided to court once all of this was over, after he punched him, of course. Not the Dark One, who could dance on a Void Point or casually cast spells that would burn entire towns down to the ground. If this was still an act, it was the very best one that Clint had ever seen.
That laughter had Clint back on his feet, the better to see the reactions of everyone else in the room. The rest of the Void Wizards had expressions that ranged from surprise to anger, as if Phil's – no, the Dark One's – terrible laughter was some sort of insult they wanted to avenge, but didn't dare.
Pierce was certainly intimidated, but he stood up, leaning across the table toward Phil. Clint tensed, not liking this turn of events at all, wishing he was standing so that he could see Phil's expression but almost afraid to.
"We know what happened with Loki," the words were an accusation. "We know he killed you."
"And you know that, how?" Phil – no, this was the Dark One, and not an act this time – inquired lightly, sounding extremely amused by the Grand Master.
"I spoke to him," Whitehall spoke up, eyes hard behind his spectacles. "He's a prisoner in Asgard, but I was able to get in without anyone knowing. He confirmed that he stabbed you through the heart."
"It seems to me," the Dark One purred, "that he missed, because here I am." He flung his arms out, as if he was trying to embrace everyone in the room.
"It seems to us," Garrett put in, "that Loki killed you and you came back to life."
The sigh was tired and yet playful at the same time. "Certainly every single one of you knows that the Deathless already has a counterpart. And it's not me." The Dark One rose from his chair. "Now, we are done here. Because you all have gotten your facts wrong. Loki did stab me…but I recovered, and not because I died. I am not your Void version of the Deathless. That's someone else entirely. And, since you obviously haven't a clue, I think I'm wasting my time. I'll be taking my leave."
When the Dark One pivoted on his heel, in order to stride from the room, Clint got his first look at the man's face…
And was immediately stunned to realize this was someone completely different.
It was like back in the study at Shield Keep…Phil's eyes had gone completely black. There was such a sharpness in that awful glare, something that wasn't entirely human any longer, coldness and darkness and a total lack of any sort of humanity in that gaze. Those eyes met his, and something in them changed; the blackness faded back to blue, and confusion clouded them for a moment before Phil was completely back, and he was getting himself under control.
"You may want to rethink leaving," Malick called out.
Phil turned back. "And what could you possibly say to stop me from walking right out of that door?"
Garrett's grin was skeletal and lacking in any warmth. "We have your kid."