Infiltration (25 page)

As was becoming the norm for me, I mentally sifted through potential courses of action, noting once more a cool, brisk sensation as I did so. I could follow through with my thought from the previous night and transfer Case and his group — everyone in this room, in fact — to a holding cell at HQ. However, half the magicians out there are escape artists, and I didn’t know if the Alpha League was prepared to hold someone like the Diabolist on short notice. Plus, even if the League was in a position to put everyone in this room on lockdown the second I teleported them, that would still leave their mystical weapon — which I hadn’t seen yet — here in the hands of whatever big boss was actually running the show. Moreover, he would know that we were on to him, and right now my infiltration of their organization was probably our greatest strength.

At the same time, though, I couldn’t just stand idly by and let our enemies launch another surprise attack. There had to be a way to clip their wings without tipping our hand. Then it came to me: Mouse’s beacon.

I still had it with me, so I pulled it out. I floated down to where Case was standing, and then — using my phasing power — I slipped it into one of the pockets on his belt. I flew up above everyone’s heads just as the barrel of the machinery that Grain Brain was fooling with fired in the direction of Case’s group.

Diabolist Mage still had his staff pointed towards the machinery. Eyes closed, he seemed to be fiercely concentrating on something as he muttered what I assumed was an incantation under his breath. The shimmering I was now accustomed to seeing formed around Case’s group, preparing to transport them…where?

As before, I was still hurting for good intel, and had few places to turn with respect to where to get it. Thus, I decided to take a bold step.

Reaching out telepathically, I lightly touched the mind of the Diabolist. With any luck, he’d be so focused on transferring Case’s group that he wouldn’t notice anything. Plus, I’m actually highly skilled, and can usually skim the surface thoughts of the average person without them ever knowing I’m there. Ideally, I wanted to peek inside the Diabolist’s head and get an overview of what these guys were planning in the long run.

Unfortunately, we don’t live in an ideal world or I did a less-than-ideal job of getting inside his head (or both), because the next second, the Diabolist’s eyes snapped open. He growled almost like an animal, gritting his teeth hard enough to snap a dinosaur bone. He’d obviously felt something, and he glanced around the room trying to find whoever had invaded his privacy, radiating malice the entire time.

The light from his staff suddenly changed, dimming, resulting in an alteration to the shimmering around Case’s group. There was a freaky shift in the position of the group, like an optical illusion that made it appear that Case and his fellows had all quickly jumped three feet to the right and then back again.

“Diabolist!” Grain Brain shouted, in a voice deeper than one would expect. Obviously, any distraction on the part of the Diabolist had an effect on what they were trying to do. I made a mental note of the fact.

Clearly still fuming, Diabolist Mage turned his attention back to the transfer. His staff once again started glowing as before, and a few moments later, Case and his group were gone. His primary task completed, the Diabolist raised his staff and it began shining a purple beam like a flashlight, which he began sweeping randomly around the room, across people and objects alike. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to see me, but — knowing almost nothing about magic and exactly what it can do — I took that as my cue to leave and did so.

Chapter 30

I was back in my room when a warning siren of some sort went off some time later. I had returned there after watching Case’s team depart, and had found my other roommate inside when I arrived.

His name was Piler, and he was a grizzled, middle-aged merc starting to get past his prime. He was a bit of a talker, and I was just getting him going when the sirens started blasting.

“What the heck is that?” I asked.

“The all-assemble,” Piler said, looking at me strangely.

“Of course,” I said. “Guess I just forgot. Getting old, you know.”

“Understood,” Piler said. “I’m reaching the age where I can barely remember things myself.”

He left the room and I followed — an excellent idea since I had no clue where I was going. Of course, as it was an all-assemble, I could have followed anyone because everyone I saw was on the move in the same direction.

After traversing a number of staircases and hallways, we came to a monstrous chamber bigger than a football field. It was a room I had passed through earlier while exploring, and it had struck me as the kind of place where a bunch of Vikings would sit around drinking and singing after raiding some village. Thus, I had mentally dubbed it the “Great Hall.”

At the moment, it was standing room only as the entire population of the castle filed into the chamber. A few of those present, exerting super powers, either climbed up the walls for a better view or merely floated in mid-air. (Frankly speaking, as I looked around and recognized some of those present, I was a little surprised at how peaceably they had assembled. Half these guys hated one another as much as they did superheroes.)

Towards the far end of the room, I could see the Diabolist standing on some sort of stone dais. It appeared that the action was likely to take place there, so I began working my way through the crowd in that direction, hoping to get a front-row seat for whatever was about to happen.

As I got closer, I saw that there was a group of people assembled in front of the dais, all in a straight line facing Diabolist Mage. They looked a little worse for wear, as if they’d just had sand kicked in their face at the beach, only the sand had been moving at one hundred miles per hour. It took me a second, but then I realized that this was Case’s group that had left just a little while earlier.

Although I could only get a partial view of him from the side, Case himself looked like a boxer who had taken one too many punches to the head. His blond hair was unkempt, there was a distinct bruise on his cheek, and he held a hand against his side in a way that gave the impression that he was in pain.

Next to Case’s group stood Gorgon Son, staring at them in menacing disapproval. In his hand he held a mace, which I assumed to be the same one he’d tried to bash me with.

Those assembled gave a wide berth to Case and his compatriots — as if they had some infectious disease — with the individuals at the front of the crowd getting no closer to them than twenty feet or so. It was already quiet in the room, but the few remaining whispers ceased abruptly as Diabolist Mage began talking.

“Well?” he said, staring at Case and his fellows but speaking to no one in particular. “I’m waiting for an explanation.”

A deafening silence filled the chamber. It was clear that something had gone wrong, and Case’s group was on trial for their lives. After a few moments, during which the Diabolist grew noticeably impatient, one of the group stepped forward.

“It was the Alpha League,” the man said. “They were— ”

“The Alpha League?!” shouted the Diabolist. “The Alpha League was destroyed!”

I could have smacked myself on the head. Proteus had actually been dispatched on a two-fold mission, one of which involved getting Alpha League HQ hammered by these guys’ secret weapon. By coming back here as Proteus, I had apparently given Diabolist Mage the impression that their plan had worked. I inconspicuously attempted to worm my way back into the crowd a little bit, trying to avoid being seen by the Diabolist.

“Destroyed?” the man repeated. “No, they were on us before we could even get properly in position.”

I fought to keep a smile off my face. The fact that the Alpha League had shown up meant that the beacon had done its job.

“What do you mean?” asked the Diabolist. “You shouldn’t have had to get into the proper position. You should have
appeared
at the proper position.”

The man, a brown-haired fellow with a five o’clock shadow who looked to be in his mid-thirties, looked nervous, unsure of what to say. He gulped, and then went on.

“We didn’t appear at the designated location,” the brown-haired man said. “We were about a mile east of the target zone. It took us about an hour to get there, and by that time the Alpha League had shown up. We were outmatched and requested recall.”

This news did not sit well with Diabolist Mage, whose look had continually darkened with every word he’d heard. He gave an angry nod to Gorgon Son, who pointed his mace at the brown-haired man. A beam of light shot out from the mace and struck the man, who screamed and dropped to the floor, writhing in agony. Gorgon Son stepped over and hauled the man to his feet with one hand.

“Can you please explain to me why it took you an hour to cover one mile?” Diabolist Mage asked the man, who only appeared half-conscious while held in Gorgon Son’s grip.

“Only… moved…cover,” the man said groggily. “Maintain…surprise… League…knew…coming…”

The man seemed to pass out. Diabolist Mage made a subtle gesture to Gorgon Son, who slapped the man so viciously I thought his head would come off. Then again. He was preparing to do so a third time when a voice like thunder sounded.

“
Enough
,” someone said in a commanding tone, with an inflection that reverberated off the walls.

Suddenly standing next to Diabolist Mage was another man. He was tall, muscular, completely hairless, and extraordinarily pale. He wore only a pair of trousers, and on his bare chest was an elaborate tattoo of a dragon. Somehow, despite his unique appearance and commanding presence, he had gained the stage next to the Diabolist without anyone even noticing him.

However, the minute he spoke, all eyes turned to him, and suddenly I sensed overwhelming feelings of fear, admiration, and respect coming from those around me. Even Gorgon Son, who seemed to be Diabolist Mage’s right-hand man, inclined his head, acknowledging the newcomer’s authority. Gorgon Son released his grip, and the brown-haired man flopped to the ground, unconscious.

There was now no doubt who was in charge. Who was running the show. Who the ‘big man’ was. It was this fellow, a fact that sent my mind racing because I recognized him.

It was the White Wyrm.

Chapter 31

The White Wyrm was one of the most noted and feared supervillains on the planet. Claiming descent from a dragon, he purportedly had a wide variety of powers — everything from super strength to telepathy, if you believed the rumors. (It was also said that he actually hated his “White Wyrm” moniker, which may be why everyone here constantly made reference to him by some other sobriquet.)

Regardless of what rumors were true about him, his involvement here meant that the stakes were even higher than anyone had imagined. Now I desperately needed to find out everything I could, because if there was anyone worth stopping with respect to anything they were doing, it was the White Wyrm.

“Don’t kill the messenger who brings bad news,” the White Wyrm said, speaking to the entire assembly. “Kill the messenger who fails to bring bad news when it’s his duty to do so.”

He turned his attention to the rest of Case’s team. There was a cold fury in his gaze that was unnerving, and I was absolutely sure that those receiving the brunt of it would start to wilt.

“If the Alpha League was waiting for you,” the White Wyrm said after a moment, staring at the men in front of him, “then someone told them you were coming.”

At that, Diabolist Mage pointed his staff at the men on Case’s team, and it gave off the same purple spotlight effect I had seen before. One by one, he shined it on the men in front of him until he came to Case. The light seemed to settle on him, and then intensify to such an extent that Case held up a hand to protect his eyes.

The light then narrowed until its point was a small dot — like a laser pointer — on Case’s forehead. Then it began to move, swirling at first, around the area of Case’s face. Next, it began zigzagging, running back and forth across his body in wild random patterns before eventually slowing down and then settling on a pocket on his belt. The very pocket I had placed the beacon in.

“Him,” Diabolist Mage said a moment later.

“No!” Case screeched, backing away and looking terrified. “Not me! I didn’t do anything! I—”

He stopped speaking as Gorgon Son caught him in a chokehold and dragged him up on the dais. Diabolist Mage came over to him, oozing malice, and popped open the indicated pocket on Case’s belt. He reached in and pulled out the beacon. He stared at the little button-like object for a moment, then dropped it on the floor. He raised his staff and brought it down on the beacon. There was a short but intense flash, and when the staff was moved away the beacon was gone; no part of it remained — no ash, no broken circuit or wiring, nothing.

Diabolist Mage looked Case in the eye.

“You would have done better to shoot yourself than betray us,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Take him away.”

Case made a whimpering sound as he was dragged from the room.

Diabolist Mage raised his staff, and again it blazed like a comet, casting an indigo hue upon everyone in the Great Hall.

“Let this be a message to all of you,” he said to the crowd. “Disloyalty will be dealt with severely — without exception, without mercy, and without remorse. Go.”