Shadow Phantoms - H.P. Mallory Page 0,49

the Templars into action.

Bunch of cowards.

Finally, one of them (the purple chair) spoke up. “You say, High Mage, that this is an attack on all of us.”

“It is.”

“And yet none of our factions has suffered similar attacks. Or attacks of any kind, for that matter.”

“The Templar are targeting the big fish first,” I replied with a shrug. That might have been a bit arrogant; the Vampire Coalition was inert but powerful; the Fae kept themselves separate these days but still had a whole kingdom of their own. “We need to put the leader of the Templar down before he tries again.”

“It seems to me this is a personal matter.” The purple chair was female and spoke in a voice as smooth as silk, but as hard as steel. I wondered if she was Sinjin’s representative; he liked strong women.

“Assassination is always personal,” I replied. “Perhaps you will see it differently if… when they come for you.”

“I wonder if you are aware, High Mage,” the silken voice continued, “that when you mention the assassination attempt, you refer to ‘they’ or ‘them’. But when you talk about attacking, you say ‘he’ or ‘him’.”

That had been careless. My hatred of Pagan had slipped through without me knowing it. Whoever was behind that mask listened carefully and had more brains than the rest of the Magistrates put together, if I were any judge.

“We all know to whom I refer.” She left me no choice, but honesty. “The rebel leader, Pagan, is a scourge on this land. And one who must be put down like the dog he is.”

“I rather like dogs,” the purple chair replied, a laugh in her voice. Perhaps she was a werewolf. I found myself overwhelmed by a desire to see what she looked like. I did not recognize her voice. “The word ‘rebel’ seems an odd one to choose to refer to the Order of the Templar, who have always been a respected organization.”

“Until Pagan took over,” I put in.

“Of course. And began… scourging the land. How exactly, if I may enquire, does this ‘scourging’ manifest itself? It’s a strong word. I feel as if I would have noticed scourging going on, yet… I have not.”

Now I wanted to see her face, if only so I could slap the insolence off it. “He tried to kill me!”

“Not sure I’d call that scourging the land. Haven’t you been trying to kill him?”

“I have been trying to rid us of an infection that is…”

“Scourging the land, yes, you said.” She waved off my words with an infuriating ease. “Some might say your subjugation of magic users prompted the rise of Pagan and the Order of the Templar in its new form.”

“Who are you?” I growled, my temper finally getting the better of me.

“One who chooses to retain the mask,” the purple chair replied, her voice hard. “If you had done the same, then we could have discussed Pagan and his Order with a degree of detachment. Perhaps you would have won some members of this group to your side. As things are… May I move for a vote, Mr. Chairman?”

Even through his mask, it was easy to see the red chair wishing this had happened on someone else’s watch and that he was anywhere else right now. But a vote had been called for.

“Those in favor of taking joint action against the Order of the Templar?” he asked.

They were scared. I’d have bet money that, outside of the bitch in the purple chair, they were all terrified of me. But the masks protected them. Or so they thought. Whichever way they voted didn’t matter; I’d be coming for all of them one day, and I would remember this vote when I did.

“Don’t bother.” I spun around, kicking my green chair and sending it flying across the room. “You’ll all regret it when Pagan comes for you.”

They would regret it. I’d see to it.

I stormed out of the Circular Hall, tearing off the ridiculous robes of office as I went. I was furious with them, but I was angry with myself as well. I had played it badly. I should have kept my mask and my incognito intact. I should have argued from a less personal standpoint, should have made it about them rather than about me. But it was too late now.

The problem was that I needed their help. At least some of their help.

As Tintagel had proven, Pagan was a wily adversary. Finding him had been hard enough to begin with