FSE

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The lobby glittered with the refracted light from a dozen glass display cases; the contents inside glowing faintly, small metal placards announcing the rarity and purity of the treasures nestled within, resting on plump velvet cushions. It was like a visit to the Crown Jewels, except these were sorcerous artefacts and not pompous drapery. There were cameras swivelling at every corner of the room as the guests milled about, cooing and murmuring their delight at laying eyes upon these wondrous amulets and trinkets. It was only a taste of what was to come. In just a few minutes more, they would be led down the subterranean channel into the very heart of wonderland; the high-security fortress.

The heavy golden door swung inwards, and their guide swept in grandly.

His robes were crimson, bright sumptuous silk shone with a dazzle of silver thread that wound through the fabric in an intricate pattern, edges thick with purest white fur. If it wasn’t for the lack of pointed ears, the man could very well be an elf. He smiled widely at his guests, spreading his hands wide in welcome.

“My dear friends, it is my honour and privilege to present to you today a most spectacular collection of magical items, the likes of which are beyond your imagining. Cast aside all your present notions of what magick looks like, for you will see that the tame power we dispense here at the Council of Sorcerer’s has a wilder, more dangerous counterpart that only a select few will ever see. You are here because you are part of an elite group of fellows to the college, our most generous donors and contributors. I have no doubts you have concerns, but there is good reason why you have signed lengthy non-disclosure agreements before today’s grand tour. The things you are about to see, for want of a better phrase, do not exist,” he winked.

Another murmur spread through the group. This was exciting stuff! The authority on magic regulation did not offer tours of their containment facility often, and the monetary donations required for a chance were eye-watering.

The senior mage nodded to a security guard who stepped aside from a solid metal door, complete with wheel lock and bolts, as his boss wrestled it open.

The cold air from within the underground tunnel caused the group of sightseers to shudder and rub their arms. It was quite a contrast to the bright spring day outside.

“Is it true there are real dragon bones in here?”

“I heard there are mermaid scales.”

“Unicorn horns, too…”

The chitter chatter continued past pale blue orbs that lit the way, until they emerged into a cavern large enough to house a small village. Sturdy columns of ivory stretched from floor to ceiling, etched with runes and sigils, strengthened by magic to withhold the weight of the world up above.

In the centre of this wide-open space was a solid block of dull dark stone. The only feature giving it away as a building was a door, tiny in comparison to the scale of the rest of it. It could have been a prison if it only had some razor wire about the perimeter. It was huge and foreboding.

The group looked at the edge of the path where it stopped at a cliff face, and down to the yawning depths below. They looked over at the holding facility beyond.

The senior mage smiled. This was the best bit! He reached inside his robes and pulled out a white twisted staff; a narwhal horn of incredible length. At the base sat a glimmering, iridescent, smooth nugget of moonstone and with a flourish of the eye-catching item, along with an awed gasp from his captive audience, the bedrock below them lifted up in chunks to form a solid walkway to their destination. It floated, surrounded by a faint blue haze. Magic on this magnitude was rarely seen in the world.

The security staff inside were transported into the facility by portal, they didn’t take this path, this was merely for show, but they didn’t have to know that.

“So clever,” they murmured.

“So secure,” they nodded.

The senior mage himself was rather thrilled to be here, too. He’d not long taken this position, and this was his first visit to the forbidden treasury.

“Yes,” he agreed. “No-one has the magnitude of power necessary to raise the walkway apart from myself. No-one uninvited can possibly enter the fortress.”

The small door slid open and a security guard wanded them down, waving his humming baton up and down each guest, checking for magic. They all had safely dropped off their licenced talismans, charms or amulets at the reception desk to the building earlier, along with their mobile phones and smart devices, when they had arrived. This was just an extra precaution. Another show of authority. Apart from the senior mage, nobody coming into the facility would be bringing any magic with them. There would be no theft, or visual or audio recording by sorcerous means, of any kind.

“You have one hour to wander the building, ladies and gentlemen, at your leisure. Be assured if you dawdle my security team will bring you back, one way or another.”

A small laugh rippled through the guests. They were only too aware of what the senior mage of the Council of Sorcerer’s could do. Nobody would be tardy.

On the subject of awareness, Valentino knew of the strict security measures that the holding facility utilised, and was under no illusions that joining the party of very special guests would backfire the minute a magic-detecting wand was passed over him. He’d have set the alarms ringing like bells tolling for Christmas.

However, he was also privy to the knowledge that the security staff entered the building via portal, and he’d been a very busy dragon indeed building a gate of his very own.

He swaggered along the concrete ramps and corridors, passing by dim lights and yellow hazard tape, letting his keen nose guide him, sniffing out his beloved weapons. His motorcycle boots were noisy, but it didn’t matter. In fact, trying to be sneaky could be counter-productive in this situation. It was imperative that he should act as though he was authorised to be here. To a security guard, he was simply one of the lucky few guests who had been welcomed in by the Senior Mage, completely harmless and merely browsing.

Passing by window after window of confiscated natural magic orbs and sceptres and staffs and crowns, his human disguise form reflected back at him, his burning mesmerising eyes hidden behind Ray-Ban’s, a pricey upgrade to the simple sunglasses he’d been given by Anar back on that other world. As he strode, he wondered how many other dragons had lost precious hoard elements to these greedy Earthlings.

He’d ask them, but dragons were not friendly towards their own kind; seeing each other as competition rather than companions. It was a long and lonely existence as a being made of pure magic, and this was why his grey friend was so very dear to him.

Anarchy had no idea what he meant to him, of course, his small mortal brain was crammed to capacity with banal musings and everyday notions, but his unwavering loyalty to The Dragon actually meant everything. To have a devoted minion by your scaly side was the rarest treasure of all, and there was no mind control needed, no, the aardvark had welcomed him into his life with open heart and arms. Had built a home with space for him in it. Had offered him a seat at his table. Had even kept his promise of giving him his magic back. It was only a steady trickle, else the poor fellow should perish, but it was freely given nevertheless. Anar was the only friend The Dragon had ever had. Once he had his weapons back, he would show his gratitude for the mortal mammal’s kindness. He knew that deep down, Anar longed to command an army again, to stand proud beneath a banner of his own with a thousand fine warriors ready to follow his orders, even if they should take them to the very edges of the known universe. With the wondrous items Valentino had scrounged this would be completely feasible. With the gate he had built, Anar’s army could go anywhere, anywhen, conquering worlds and solar systems.

And to top it all off, like icing on an already decadent cake, The Dragon would have the thing that dragons crave above all else. He would have power.

An aroma of wild magic from other universes and dimensions, full of tang and acidity, filled his human nose; his collection was on display in the row of cases just around the next corner…

David Malvern blinked. “Sorry?” he asked, politely.

“I said, could you help me with these?”

The man, who David could swear he knew from somewhere, grinned. He was wearing sunglasses, even though they were in an enclosed concrete bunker far below the ground. His teeth were very white in contrast to the black leather jacket he wore, and his olive tanned skin that had an equally leathery look to it.

“Oh, of course.” Holding his arms out, he accepted a small bundle of curious objects.

There had been a flash of bright, orange-white light. It had come out of nowhere as he was travelling around, gawking at magical items. Now he was helping his new friend carry some important things into the archives for cleaning and maintenance. As you do. It was good to be useful, wasn’t it? Probably very lucky to get so close to such marvellous artefacts, actually. They buzzed, and glowed, in all shapes and colours, with funny bits sticking out of them, along with some triggers and buttons. If he’d been a little more clear-minded he’d have likely called them Sci-Fi. One absolutely reminded David of a laser blaster from a bad B movie he’d seen in his youth.

“And these are all magical, are they?” he asked in a dreamy voice.

“Absolutely,” the grinning man nodded, walking down a ramp towards a room that said: ‘SECURITY’. “Magic comes in many more forms than you know. Indeed, many sciences can be regarded as magic, if you really think about it. Add two harmless chemicals together and you get a boom big enough to bring down a house. Fire a jet of water at high enough pressure and you can split rocks. Harness the power of the atom and you have enough energy for intergalactic travel.”

David really thought about it. He felt very odd, indeed. A tiny functioning part of his conscience was saying something about theft, but David had never so much as pocketed a packet of Wrigley’s gum in his entire life.

The security room was full of high-viz jackets, dangling earpieces, rows of monitors displaying feed from various cameras, and a big blue swirly circle slap bang in the middle.

“Huh,” he said.

The strange man grabbed at the magic weapons and slung them through the blue disc. “Thanks so much for your help. You take care of yourself, now.” He stepped through, vanishing along with the weird things they’d carried. In a moment the blue whirly light was gone.

David stood, open-mouthed, confused and muddled.

Behind him, blaring loud enough to rattle the screws holding it to the wall, an alarm began to wail.

With bangs and clangs, scurrying footsteps approached from far-flung corners of the compound.

David turned, slowly, as uniformed security guards squawked into radios and pulled wands from thigh straps. They looked straight at him, eyebrows raised, awaiting some kind of explanation for finding him here, perhaps even a reason why the alarm had been set off.

“We were just taking some things into the archives…” he quavered.

The Senior mage gathered his cloak hem about him and swiftly collected up his group of sightseers. You couldn’t make it up! His first excursion into the High-Security building, and some bugger sets off the alarm! Probably got too close to something they shouldn’t! All he could do was hope nobody got melted, or zapped, or worse! “Security!” he bellowed, knowing one of the guards wouldn’t be far away. “What on Earth is going on? Security?!”

The group was covering their ears from the sirens, and blinking from the strobing lights as they rolled across the surfaces, red flashes filling their vision.

A speaker crackled into life from the building’s inter-comm, “Bryce Wilden, report to security office, immediately.”

“Come on, come on, keep up!” he corralled his guests along corridors, past open doors that he was sure should not be open, until he reached his destination.

One of the guests was being wanded down, a paper report was being filled out while they did so.

The security manager nodded to one side, and Bryce slid into the quiet corner with him. “You might want to dismiss your other guests, sir, this isn’t something you’ll want them to hear.”

“What the hell is going on?” The senior mage demanded, crossly.

The manager scribbled on a notepad and held it up.

“You have got to be shitting me…”

Magical items had gone missing. Those open doors were a bad sign, he’d been right. He turned to the single hapless guest looking dazed and confused surrounded by armed guards.

“David?” even he couldn’t quite believe it. The man was a wet lettuce. A filthy rich wet lettuce, but still.

The manager nodded. “Security footage shows him carrying artefacts into here with an open portal. It’s heavily distorted, there’s interruption with the feed, and he scans positive for magic, but he doesn’t recall any of it.”

Bryce could feel his head hurting. “Right! I need a full investigation, no-one is to go home until I’ve got some answers, no matter how outlandish they may be. Scrutinise that cam footage! Wand all the walkways. I want all the missing items logged. If David really did do this, he can’t have been alone, he must have had an accomplice. And if David didn’t do this, then who the blazes did?!”

There was a tap on the manager’s shoulder and another guard whispered in his ear. “Brilliant!” he hissed.

“What? What’s brilliant?”

“One of the stolen items has a locator still functioning, sir. As long as it isn’t out of range – as in, still on this world, we’ll be able to find it. Once we know where that one is, I’m betting we’ll find them all.”

“Well don’t just stand there! Do… the thing! Whatever it is you have to do!” Bryce flapped.

“On it, sir!”

The bemused guests were wanded down one last time, just to be sure, before they were taken out of the building via the front door and the elevated walkway. They were noisy, and nosy; loudly asking what had happened, and why David wasn’t coming back with them. Were they in danger? Had something bad happened? Could they come back another time and finish their tour?

Bryce put on a brave smile and assured them that David was being decontaminated, strictly routine, no need for alarm, everything was fine, they would be invited back at a later date when it was convenient.

The last person left the room, and he exhaled loudly. A cup of coffee was offered on the table in front of him, surrounded by paperwork, and he grasped it with shaking hand, slurping gratefully. They’d get the magical weapons back, of course they would. That wasn’t what worried him. What worried him was the Council being blamed for any damage that occurred while they were at large. Their reputation was at stake, the compound may as well be Colditz, nothing got in or out without authorisation. They kept the world safe from magical shenanigans. If they failed, it would be his fault, because he was in charge. Wild magic was dangerous. It mustn’t get into the wrong hands. That was how wars started!

His musings were interrupted by the manager clacking at his keyboard and talking aloud; “say’s here that they haven’t gone very far at all. Some place by the Stones called Warlock Court…”

Coffee sprayed across the wall.

“Warlock?!” Bryce spluttered, half choking.

The security manager stammered, “y-yes? What…? Why…?”

“That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. Oh, we could be in a whole world of trouble.” He shook his head, which was positively thumping now. “Let David go. I have a horrible feeling we’re dealing with a power the likes of which we’ve never seen on Earth. I hope I’m wrong. Especially as the only man who knows anything about this Warlock is Rowan Aldbury!”