Squeezed into a hotel suite somewhere in Cancun (with the AC running high to accommodate) the GSA roster huddled around Colt, standing at the front of the room. The atmosphere was decidedly funerary, though that had been the predominant mood since the gang had arrived in Mexico about a week earlier. Considering that one of their own was missing, and not in their right state of mine, with another of their ranks was in hospital, the situation was bleak.
Even Colt, a tall, strapping, bastion of enthusiasm, spoke softly, with a sadness in his eyes seldom seen by his students and employees. He considered his words, for a time, before addressing the listless audience. With Mr. Iron at this side to fill in the details, he spoke candidly about what had happened. Nobody bat an eye at the fact that a good portion of their contingency had been involved in a clandestine affair to secure an ancient artefact of immeasurable power. Typical, really. Spellbreakers were impulsive by nature and predisposed to adventure. Though some in the room rightfully expressed annoyance at all of this information having been kept secret from them for some time now.
Standing before a framed portrait of a Mayan calendar, the head of the GSA decided on an end to secrecy. "We were too damn reckless," he said, exhausted, concluding his proclamation. "I owe you all a huge apology."
Powerful men and women exchanged worried looks. On the couch, Rosa sat pale, flanked by friends Ice Princess and Calypso. Spike, standing behind her, draped his arms gently across her shoulders in a half-embrace. Stone faced, she stared ahead. Rosa had not uttered a word this whole time.
Until now. "Colt...don't blame yourself." She had already done her fair share of crying earlier. It was time to woman up. "I should have been there."
"You saved my-" Colt started. He looked over at Buck, positioned away from the rest of the gang, legs tucked to chest in the window alcove. He wouldn't even look at his father. "As fed president, I have a duty of care. All of you kids are under my protection. Now, one gone. The other hurt." He sighed and acknowledged Mr. Iron. "What's Iggy's status, by the by?"
The huge man looked beyond tired. Spike had never seen his old coach so defeated. In a chair that could barely contain his mass, the giant crossed his legs. "They should pull through, but they're going to be out of commission for awhile. Who knows if they'll ever--"
"Don't finish that sentence," Spike said, quietly, with a vibrato in his unsure voice. Rosa reached up and placed her hand on his forearm, with affection. Assurance. "They'll be back. I know it. I know my teach."
Colt nodded. "Rosa. I owe you an--"
"No," she said, cutting him off. "Just...no. Thank you. We're going to get Victor back. Even if I have to do it myself."
"And we will help," Kengo, by the door (the most logical place where he could fit) said, with absolute certainty. Cian, next to him, held up his fist in solidarity.
Standing at the back of the room, arms folded tightly to his chest, Joseph in his white shirt and black dress pants cast a cool aura. He scanned the room, silent. Goddess knows what he thought, but he looked serious.
Colt continued. "So, now y'all know the score. This isn't just a global tournament anymore. This is something much bigger. The good folks of Aradia are partnering up with us to-
Calypso raised her hand, her seashell bracelet dangling off her wrist. "Aradia?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Finally, the champion, Joseph, took the lead. "They function similarly to the United Nations. Or, I suppose, more like INTERPOL. They work with governments to secure magickal threats. They are supposed to be neutral but..."
"They helped with the reconstruction of my old village," Cian mumbled. "After the war. Not that I remember much about it. I don't trust many, but if Miss Lily is working with them, then they're at least half-decent."
"Except for the part where they nearly got Iggy killed," Sanjay, standing next to Blue Dragon, shot back. "They're just like any other big, government body. Suits at the top dictating assignments to the little guys at the bottom. Why the hell are we working with them?"
"Because we need authority and legitimacy at our backs," Mr. Iron said, patiently. "Put it into perspective."
"Oh yeah," Icewolf piped up. "It would sorta be like if the Calgary Flames were asked to run reconnaissance by the government, eh? I mean, at the end of the day, we're just sports players with glyphs, huh..."
"Salim is involved with them too," Mr. Iron said. "I wouldn't agree to come back if I didn't vet them."
Sanjay lowered his tone, but the suspicion remained. "And can even we trust Salim? Giant guy with a dubious business dealing who only shows up to fancy parties?"
He had a point. Colt shuffled his stance, uncomfortable. "Well, I'll just say this. When I look at this room, I see the world. I know it sounds rich coming from an old fogie from Texas, but one of our key strengths is we're an international bunch. Different faiths. Different backgrounds. We're the best equipped to deal with a global issue. That being said, if any of you wants to duck out and focus on the tournament, I won't fault you. No shame. No judgment. No pressure. This is tough stuff. I'll turn my back, and y'all can leave the room."
With a heart heavy, Colt 'The Bolt', turned around and faced the stone calendar. He was struck by the irony, that this stone artefact should outlast the civilization that had wrought it to measure centuries that they would never see. It made him uneasy. He was just some guy, some schmuck that had gotten famous for being loud and violent and handsome. Now? He had responsibilities, no longer solely to his employees, his kids, but possibly to something much larger. And the worst part of it was that he was required to maintain a brave face the whole time...
A moment passed, but the sound of an opening door, of people quietly taking leave, did not come. Confused, Colt peered over his shoulder. "Uh...I said, if any of you were uncomfortable..."
Ice Princess, the blonde, Scandinavian woman with severe eyes on Rosa's right, stood. She rarely spoke, so it was unusual to hear her voice. But it was clear and resonant. "We are uncomfortable, she said. "But we're not leaving."
Sitting cross legged on the loveseat next to her, her masculine counterpart, Icewolf, jumped up theatrically. "And Ice WOLF too!" He pointed heroically at Colt. "Listen here, Mr. Tamberly. My Lady is right. I may have only just gotten onto this roster for reals, but do you think I'm gonna wuss out on you guys?"
Next to him, Princess (an old friend) rolled her eyes mirthfully. "Robbie, we get-"
The boastful jock continued. "Divine Chalices? Firebird? Los Venoms? BRING 'EM ON! I'll CRUSH 'EM ALL!"
For a moment, there was levity. A few smiles. Even Cian, a mix of confused and entertained, met Robbie's eyes for a moment. The muscular Canadian promptly turned red and looked askance. "Aw shucks, he's looking my way..."
Cian took up the reigns. "Mr. Colt. I understand these Chalices are important, but what about El Amante? He's our big brother. Rosa's kin. I understand that I'm still suspended, so sorry if this sounds daft, but I don't give a toss about the competition anymore. I just wanna get our big guy back."
Spike looked over at Cian, surprised to hear him speak with such confidence. Even Buck, from his hiding spot, cocked his head to the side to listen.
Before Colt could address the Irish lad, the phone in the other room's desk nook began ringing.
Rosa was happy to get off the couch, gently brushing Spike's hands off her. "I'll get it," she said, with a profoundly deep breath. He peers assumed she had been waiting for news about her cousin's whereabouts.
Colt took the moment to fill his kids in further. With her briefly indisposed, he felt more comfortable letting them in on the harsh truth of the matter. "So, here's what we do know, and it's all very simple. That bastard Serpent is using Victor as a bargaining chip. I have a score to settle with that snake. In a week, we go down to Bolivia. Serpent and I have agreed to a Last Man Standing. No ring. Right on the salt flats."
While than sank in with the other, Buck finally awakened. He pivoted around from the alcove and gave his head a cold, glance of death. "Dad, that's insane! You just came out of retirement."
Colt challenged his son right back, and grunted. "So? Boy, you ain't seen what your daddy can do! Besides, it's time I reminded y'all who used to the champion around here."
No point in arguing. Buck had learned these lessons long ago. He leaned back against the window and shook his head, shifting the tension in the room from dour to awkward.
Biting his lip, Spike looked to Joseph, the only person in the room with enough common sense and pull besides Mr. Iron to diffuse a situation like this. Joseph flashed a smile at Spike. I got this, kid.
He spoke like the leader he was. "From one champion to another, I will do anything in my power to rescue our comrade. I must admit to you all, that I feel as I should have been there at Chichen Itza instead of defending my title. This would have never happened."
That his statement came off more as a boast...well, it landed flat. Even Spike cringed at the delivery. Everyone was off their game, just a little bit. Los Venoms had really dealt a blow.
Colt did his best to take back control of the narrative. "Look, folks, we can spend a whole time on the coulda-woulda-shoulda's, but it ain't gonna get us nowhere. Serpent wants the Chalice. We ain't gonna give it to him."
Spike leaned against the couch and mustered his courage. "Even if it means we don't get Victor back?"
Several people in the room flinched. Of all the spellbreakers in attendance, nobody expected Spike, still a bit wet behind the ears, and a great admirer of Colt, besides, to question his authority. To his credit, Colt didn't snap. He looked more taken aback.
Before he could reply, however, Rosa appeared, phone and chord in her hand. She placed the device on the table. "It's Lily. She wants to be put on speaker. Says she thinks she knows what happened to Viki."
Colt nodded. "Put her on. Hey, Lil. You're a sound for sore ears."
Through static, Lily Suarez, the GSA's magick expert and "woman on the inside" came out clear enough. "Always one with a turn of phrase, aren't you? I understand spirits may be down, so please accept my fondest regards. I want to help. Thanks to the Institute's research wing...as well as several cups of espressos...I found the artefact in question that put that curse on Victor.
"Sounds like it was the Obsidian Tablet. Not the most creative name, I know. Infamous in dark magick circles. Seldom seen this side of history. It was a tablet crafted from a civilization that used dark magick to enchant its warriors into an insatiable bloodlust, filling their hearts with hate. Unfortunately, there was no way to quench their need for destruction, and they eventually turned on both the innocent and each other, wiping out their civilization entirely. During the pillaging of the New World, it was retrieved and sent to Spanish Alban, where it supposedly slew the court when attempts were made to use it, triggering the War of Succession."
Rosa, having taken a seat next to Buck, watched in amusement as Spike tried to correlate all this information inside his blond, curly head. "Thanks, Lil," she said, with a wry smile. It had been awhile since she'd felt anything other than sorrow, but she wasn't surprised that Spike had managed to coerce it out of her. "Some of us aren't as literate in magi history as you are, so we'll try and fill in the gaps for those of us who might need more help."
Surprising nobody, Mr. Iron was the first one to ask the right follow-up questions. "Miss Suarez, if I may...how the hell did something like this end up in the hands of Los Venoms?"
"Because of who is likely financing Firebird," the voice on the phone said. "The Black Library, part of the Russian secret service."
Spike blinked. "What the hell is a Black Library?" He was speaking on behalf of several in the room who were not as comfortable with their own idiocy as him.
Lily took charge of exposition. "A legend, though not so mythic anymore, it would seem. Supposedly founded by Ivan the Terrible, the Black Library was a collection of books--by no means extensive, but extremely dangerous. It was given to him by a Greek scholar and former priest said to be fleeing persecution, but a good majority of the collection were remnants of the Deep Archive of Alexandria. These are infamous, dangerous, artefacts.
"In practice, the Black Library is a research and development wing of the Russian secret services. To Aradia's knowledge, they have never actually used the contents of their forbidden archives until now. Not even during the Great War. To put it into perspective, Ivan himself had the library sealed upon his death, he feared it so much. When it was accidentally discovered during renovations on the Kremlin, Catherine the Great swore her builders to secrecy under penalty of death and had it re-sealed. That two of the greatest Russian monarchs of history forbade its use should clue you into just what we're dealing with here."
Colt placed his hand to his chin. "But apparently it's good enough for Nicky the Third..."
Lily acknowledge as much. "Russia is desperate, on the verge of a revolution long overdue. Firebird is making its moves now. If they have weapons like the Obsidian Tablet, thankfully destroyed, then Goddess knows what other tomes are at their disposal. The Library was a potential target of the Albans during their conquest of Europe. Though they never succeeded, a dossier was compiled speculating what else lurked in the Black collection. Nothing good."
Several faces in the room drained of color. Many of them had grown up with knowledge of glyphs and their proper applications. Most of them were aware of what the Albans had done to magi and non-magi alike during the Great War. But few, save for the likes Gio, Cian, and Kengo--all raised in faiths outside the Church--had experienced 'the old magick' before. It was dangerous stuff. There was a reason why a good lot of it was meant to be sealed away.
Colt did not share the same background, but he suspected the danger at hand nonetheless. "In other words, we ain't in the little leagues no more, y'all."
Rosa was content to hurry on to the point. "So, if Victor has been cursed by this tablet or whatever, is there any way for us to break the spell?"
"Yes," Lily said, with a confidence that elevated Rosa's spirit. "Though it will be difficult. He is currently gripped by an unquenchable blood lust. No doubt seeing what happened to Iggy was part of the trigger. To keep it brief, the enchantment appears to affect several regulatory parts of the body. Amygdala. Petitory. It effectively shuts out the chemicals that make us feel...well...happy, and pumps out stress hormones, overriding all reason. Fittingly, if he were to experience a break-through, or an overriding emotion, it might be enough to snap him out of his powerful rage. That's the one good thing about old magick. It's like a glass canon. Powerful, but easy to overcome. In theory, anyway..."
Colt nodded, satisfied. "Thanks, Lily. The Chalice is being held in a secret location. We'll make sure it gets to you in one piece."
"Thanks, Colt. You have Aradia's instructions for what to do next. Everyone else...please be safe."
Click.
Lily's sure and calm personality was like a much needed balm. Though Spike could tell everyone was still both shocked and confused (and perhaps, even in disbelief at the magnitude of what they were dealing with now), the collective sigh of relief was palpable.
No stranger to trauma, Spike always took the "get it done" approach to situations that called for action, which he found tended to surprise other people. That was the Navy in him. Lily had given them their orders. Colt was chain of command. But Spike was a grunt and it was his job to demand a full picture.
Even Colt was surprised at how assertive he sounded. "What does this powerful rage look like? What do we know about El Amante right now?"
Colt bit his lip. He instructed Mr. Iron to turn on the hotel television, positioned in front of the bed. "Like this..."
The blurry static gave way to a equally grainy recording of a small arena fenced in by chain-link caging. The footage was jumpy, and it was hard to see in front of the throng of drunken, blood thirsty spectators, but Spike knew right away that what was watching was outside the normal bounds and safety restrictions of spellbreaking. This was a blood match. No soma. Just violence.
El Amante, or whatever he was now calling himself, wailed on a skinnier fighter in the corner of the cage. That was putting it lightly. He beat him mercilessly, a vacant stare the whole time. His chest and fists were covered in blood. Not his own. There was no sense of mercy, even as the ref tried to pull him off his broken, blooded opponent (victim was probably the better word). El Amante, not content with simple violence, wrapped his legs around his torso, squeezing down, while choking the poor soul's throat with his giant arms. Blood gushed, and the man's face turned blue. The ref was helpless to pull El Amante off him. Eventually, others stormed the ring, but El Amante tossed them aside like flies, each other receiving a different bone-breaking move in response. He slammed men against the chain and grated their faces across it. He threw others. It was an absolute blood bath.
This was the work of the Warrior of Hate. Illuminated by the ghostly glow of the TV set, Spike's head sunk low. "Shit..."
"Stop it," Rosa said, in a measured and even tone. "I've seen enough."
Gio obliged her, jumping off to switch the set off, though his massive frame would have concealed it anyway. "That cannot be Victor," he said, quietly. "Victor is the force of love. This is not him." He looked over to Rosa. "Rosita. I will get him back myself. Even if I have to knock his brains around!" He pounded his fist in his palm, and everyone flinched. "He is my friend! He is all our friend. I will move the Heavens to save him!"
Nobody doubted it, certainly not after that rousing promise. Spike even thought he saw Rosa blush in response.
"Er...right," Colt said. "Let's discuss our next steps. I know my part in this, but this is going to be a team effort, y'all. Now, dear Miss Lily didn't mention this next bit, on the off chance the phone's been tapped, but...well, Joseph, you understand this stuff more than I do..."
The tall, exceedingly handsome Singaporean cleared his throat. "Correct. While the whereabouts of the other Chalices will require ongoing investigation, the locations of the equivalent Divine Wellsprings has been public knowledge for centuries. The corresponding spring for the Chalice of Will lies at the Island of the Sun, or Isla Del Sol, in Lake Chucuito, Bolivia. It's an Incan ruin of great spiritual energy. The closest town, Copacabana, is where the next leg of the global tournament will be held. We are now operating under the assumption Firebird will be there as well, possibly to hand Victor off in exchange for the Chalice."
"An hour ago I would have said just give it to them," Rosa said. "But now that I know what these things can do...or rather, not being sure what Firebird is trying to do with them..." She swallowed. "I felt that thing in my hands. It's not normal magick. It's something...'other'."
Colt surveyed the room. He had said his peace. Everyone knew where they stood. "Folks, I need sleep. And so do y'all. Next week, I'll confront Serpent. We'll get our loverboy back yet. Mark my words...the storm is coming to Los Venoms."
To Be Continued
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