Imperium (Caulborn) Read online

  IMPERIUM

  By

  Nicholas Olivo

  Copyright © 2011 by Nicholas Olivo

  www.nicholasolivo.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Nicholas Olivo.

  Cover art by Ronnell D. Porter

  http://www.wix.com/ronnelldporter/design

  For Melissa, who believed

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Begin Coded Transmission

  I trust you are enjoying your newfound freedom, Mr. Singravel. I have arranged for your release to go unnoticed by certain individuals, and I now expect you to fulfill your end of the bargain. I require you to procure several manuals on golem crafting. Additionally, you will provide me with any and all information about the various groups that monitor paranormal activity in Boston, including details on any persons of particular note. Send these updates via this secure channel, but do not expect further contact from me. I will be incommunicado while I attend to some pressing matters.

  I should not need to remind you that failing to perform adequately will lead to punishments much worse than imprisonment in Ashgate. However, should you prove unsuccessful, I am confident I can find other ways for you to serve me. Your predecessor's soul was used to fuel the ritual that ensured your release.

  -RM

  End Coded Transmission

  Sunrises were beautiful here on the Bright Side, the realm of fae. And today’s sunrise would’ve been gorgeous if it weren’t for the advancing enemy army, the erupting volcano and the earthquakes. Instead of a cool dawn with sparkling dew and a gentle breeze, a heat haze shimmered in the air. When the winds gusted, it was like a sandstorm of ash. The tremors, which were coming more frequently, toppled people and structures to the ground.

  I’m sure the enemy leaders felt smug. After all, it was their mages who were tampering with the environment. Their army, one hundred thousand strong, was three times larger than the entire population of the Urisk city they were advancing on. And the Urisk themselves rarely caused any trouble. They were known for their hospitality, their friendliness and their desire for harmony. To a group of warmongers, that’s like holding up a sign that says, “Please Conquer Us.”

  I wondered what the enemy generals thought as they surveyed the battlefield. The Urisk didn’t have an army. Instead, about five thousand of them knelt on the ground, their feather-topped heads bowed, flecks of ash settling on their dull gray skin. Perhaps they thought the Urisk planned to beg for mercy. Perhaps the generals thought the Urisk were praying for some imaginary god to swoop in and save them.

  In either case, the generals would be wrong. The Urisk aren’t begging for mercy and they aren’t praying to an imaginary god.

  They’re praying to me.

  Now pardon me for a moment, I have some swooping and saving to do.

  I stepped out among my followers and focused. Their heads turned toward me, expressions of hope on their faces. Their almond eyes, whether orange or green, glowed with an inner light that flickered with anticipation. I could feel their faith in me, and the power that faith gave me swelled. I felt like I could do anything and everything. Save the people, drive off the army and repair the land. I grinned, cracked my knuckles and concentrated on the lava that was rolling in a great red river toward the city.

  When I’d prepared for today, the Commander told me I had two goals. One, bolster my followers’ faith by letting them see me protect them. I pointed at the lava and, in a power-amplified voice, commanded, “Stop!” The lava obeyed. I threw my arm out to the side and the lava steamed, cooled, and turned to solid rock.

  A gust of ash and grit blasted across the gathering of my followers. I threw my other arm out to the side and shouted, “Enough!” The wind died immediately and the ash vanished from the air. The Urisks’ faith in me increased, and that gave me more power. Having faith in your god is one thing. Personally witnessing that god controlling the weather and landscape tends to make even the most skeptical individual a believer, and it turns a believer into a zealot. My power increased accordingly.

  With the Urisk out of danger from the elements, I concentrated on the army. My senses were amplified so that even at this distance of three miles, I could clearly hear the murmurings and confusion of the mages. They’d never seen anything like what I’d just done. Then again, I’d bet they’d never fought a god before.

  And that brought me to my second goal for today: spank the enemy and spank them hard.

  I had no desire to get up close and personal with the army. The soldiers were hobgoblins and trolls, and even from this distance they smelled awful. So instead, I conjured a giant avatar of myself. There was panic among the ranks as a hundred-foot-tall human appeared at the head of the army. I concentrated, willing the avatar to raise its giant foot and crush a cluster of soldiers beneath a size three hundred Reebok high-top.

  Disciplined as they were, the soldiers scattered. I made the avatar laugh, and the sound rumbled the land and threw the soldiers to the ground. I played Godzilla for another few minutes, enjoying the squishing of the hobgoblin and troll soldiers. My avatar opened his palms and waves of flame bowled forth, turning half a mile of the landscape to black ash.

  I smirked when I realized there were no survivors. I suppose should’ve left a few of the enemies alive so that they’d carry word of what happened back to their superiors. Then again, when a hundred thousand soldiers disappear, that sends a message, too.

  I dismissed my avatar and focused on repairing the land. I opened my hands and spread my arms as wide as I could, sending power forth. Tremors rippled along the ground as I smoothed the ragged land flat again. The world shook as I crushed the volcanoes back into the ground and converted the magma to healthy soil. Blue grass sprang from the earth and silvery trees stretched toward the sky. I made months’ worth of growth happen in minutes. I made the ground sink in some places and filled the depressions with fresh water.

  With the land healed, my next task was to ensure my people’s safety. I raised my arms and brought a thirty-foot wall of stone up around the city. I turned to the mass of short gray forms behind me and basked in their faith. Their eyes, glowing orbs of orange and green, flickered like strobe lights. This was the equivalent of joyous laughter. Their faith struck me again, so strong it staggered me. I took an involuntary step back as I ran a hand through my hair. It was slick with sweat. Channeling that much power was taxing for anyone, even a god.

  Lotholio, my high priest, came forward and knelt before me. “Lord Corinthos,” he said. His words were telepathically communicated in his native tongue, but I understood him clearly. “You have truly performed miracles today. Our people owe you everything.”


  I placed my hand on his thin shoulder and bade him rise. I looked out at the crowd of Urisk, all kneeling before me. Okay, playtime was over. I had to put my formal god-face on now. I spoke then, using the power so they could hear me as if I were standing in front of them. “You are safe now. Let no Urisk feel fear.”

  We walked into the city, my followers telepathically cheering. Their eyes flickered with joy and relief. I resisted breaking into a celebratory dance; a god needs to command respect, and I doubted my lousy rendition of the Macarena would loan itself to that. We came to my cathedral, a massive stone structure that the Urisk had fashioned for me with the raw power of their minds. I turned back to the crowd. They immediately fell silent.

  “I must leave you for a time, but I will watch over this realm and its people. While I am gone, Lotholio speaks for me. Heed his words as you would mine. You have my blessing.” I sent a wave of health and warmth into them. Any who had injuries, mental afflictions or physical illnesses would be healed. I could feel their faith building again. It was getting too powerful. I needed to leave.

  I turned back to Lotholio. “Be safe, my friend,” I said with a smile.

  “Lord.” He caught me by my shirtsleeve, then seemed abashed that he’d touched me. “Lord, are you sure you cannot stay? Your presence will be reassuring as the people rebuild.”

  I put my hands on his shoulders and stared into glowing green eyes. “The people need to stand on their own, Lotholio. You know that. Do not be afraid, I will always hear your prayers when you need me.” He seemed uncertain, and I knew it was because of the high priest role he’d found himself in. “Loth, you found me, remember? You risked traveling through another dimension, made contact with outsiders, and found the help your people needed. You are the best person to lead while I am gone.” He set his narrow jaw and tried to look strong. “Loth, do you believe in me?”

  His eyes dimmed and brightened from top to bottom, a sign of shock. “Of course, Lord.”

  “Good. Because I believe in you.” I grinned and turned away from him. I moved to a pylon just in front of my cathedral. “Aviorla, open to home.” A portal opened in the pylon before me, tall enough to step through. Smells and sounds that were totally alien to the Bright Side drifted in from the other side. I grabbed my leather bomber up off the ground and turned back to the people. “Today we have won a great victory. Now it is time to celebrate. Let the festivities last for a week and a day.” I made fireworks and a rainbow appear in the sky.

  As my people’s eyes flicked with amazement and joy, I stepped through the portal. It led to a world that only Lotholio had seen, to a city that served as a hub of paranormal activity. The city I call home.

  It’s called Boston.

  Chapter 2

  Begin Coded Transmission

  There are three organizations you need to be wary of in Boston. The Strangers, who ensure prophecies come to bear; the Chroniclers, who monitor the time stream; and the Caulborn, who protect the citizens from paranormal and supernatural threats. Of these, the Caulborn will be the most troublesome. They will fight you every step of the way if they discover your intentions. Their agents are gifted with a myriad of supernatural talents; fae familiars, magical weapons, and, in one case, deity-like powers. Extreme caution should be exercised when dealing with them.

  -NS

  End Coded Transmission

  I shrugged off the familiar feeling of vertigo as the portal closed behind me, and gave a sigh of relief as my powers dropped down to a more manageable level. Removed from the Bright Side, I was far from near-omnipotence, but I didn’t feel like I was about to explode, either.

  I stood in an alleyway behind the Children’s Museum and let the sounds and smells of my hometown wash over me. A tricked-out VW Jetta was pumping bass so loud I was amazed the car didn’t shake apart. A strong scent of low tide came in from the harbor, and that, coupled with the dumpster in the alley, made for a truly nauseating aroma. I was grateful that my senses weren’t as acute here as they were in the Bright Side.

  My cell phone played the first few bars of Mozart’s Eine kleine Nachtmusik. “Hello, Thad,” I answered.

  “Vincent,” Thad said. “Thank Prada you’re back. Can you swing by the store? Miguel was supposed to pick up a package two hours ago, he hasn’t shown up yet, and I need to leave here in about forty minutes to meet James.”

  “On my way.” That didn’t sound like Miguel. He was never late for anything. I wondered if his latest assignment had anything to do with it. Miguel had been looking into several paranormals who’d recently gone missing. Maybe he’d finally gotten a break in the case.

  I left the alleyway and moved with the throng of people on the sidewalk. I checked my watch; it was just after noon. Twenty minutes and another dimension ago, I brought an entire fae realm and its people back from the brink of destruction. Now I wanted a shower and a nap. I’d have to settle for a Pepsi from Thad’s back room once I got to his antique shop.

  Antiquated Treasures is in a building that blends right in with the others around it. Once inside, though, it’s obvious the place is something unique. Thad carries antiques from all periods of history, from Victorian era furniture to Ming Dynasty vases. One piece of Thad’s collection was worth more money than I saw in a year. A faint chime rang as I pushed the metal door open, just audible over the gentle violin music that was playing through the store. The scents of jasmine and honeysuckle drifted over me. They were relaxing smells, the kind that said, “It’s nice in here, you’d like to stay a while and spend some money.”

  Thad was placing a ‘sold’ sign on a display of antique Tudor chairs as I walked in. He turned and pranced over to a middle-aged woman who was standing at the counter. Thad’s close to six feet tall, beanpole-thin, and keeps his dark hair short. Decked out in a bright orange shirt and khakis, he stood out in any crowd. He looked up and waved at me. I joined him and the woman at the counter.

  “Now, Mrs. Rosenbaum,” Thad said, “the chairs will be delivered tomorrow at 10 a.m. sharp. I think they’ll be positively splendid in your parlor.” He gave a limp-wristed gesture of approval and the woman smiled.

  “Thank you so much, Thaddeus.” She turned to me. “And might this be the infamous James I keep hearing so much about?”

  Thad shook his head. “Oh, no, Mrs. Rosenbaum. I simply couldn’t be with anyone so much shorter than I am. Also, I prefer blondes. Still, Vincent’s eyes are the most lovely shade of brown, aren’t they?”

  “I’m just the stock clerk, ma’am,” I said. She gave me a dismissive smile and turned her attention back to Thad. He rang her up and walked her to the door. “Now, you let me know if there are any other pieces you need for that showplace of a home, Mrs. Rosenbaum.”

  “I will, Thaddeus, I most certainly will.” She left the shop and Thad put a “Closed” sign in the window. He walked back to me and gave me a bear hug. “I’ve been worried sick, sweetie,” he said. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, despite the fact that we were alone in the store. “How’d everything go? Are they going to be okay?”

  “Everything’s fine, Thad.” I smiled at him. “You’re still lisping.”

  Thad waved a hand and sighed. “I know, I know. James has been saying that I’m ‘overplaying the gay’ lately,” he made quote signs with his hands, “but the lady customers just eat it up.” He looked at me seriously. “You look tired, Vincent. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Remember Mrs. Bonnekil’s physics exams back in eleventh grade? This was like that, only with hobgoblins.”

  “I’m pretty sure Bonnekil was a hobgoblin,” Thad said with a wave. “But I suppose if you’re making cracks about high school, you’re probably okay.” He inclined his head to the rear of the store. “Miguel’s package is in the back room.” I gestured for Thad to lead the way and we went through a wooden door marked Employees Only.

  The back room of Antiquated Treasures reminded me of the closing scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark. Crate
s and boxes were stacked everywhere, and Thad’s the only person who could find anything back there. Heck, I work here part time, and I have a hard time finding stuff. In addition to selling antiques, Thad supplies the Caulborn with artifacts and other magical devices. I started humming the Indiana Jones theme song as he led me through the stacks. “Oh, stop that,” Thad said without looking at me. “My organizational system is the pinnacle of logic and order. It’s not my fault you can’t grasp it.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, Thad. Chaos theory always was beyond me.” He turned without breaking stride and jabbed me in the shoulder. The stacks of crates gave way to a small clearing with a desk, a dorm fridge and a microwave. Piles of papers were neatly arranged on the desk, and today’s mail was tidily bundled with a rubber band. As Thad went over to one of the stacks, I took a soda from the fridge. Thad pulled out a small cardboard box, about a foot and a half long, from one of the piles and handed it to me. “Here you are,” he said. “Tell Miguel that it was the best diviner I could find, and I left instructions on how to use it in the package.”

  “Do you think it will help him find those missing paranormals?”

  Thad tipped his head to one side. “For the amount of trouble it took me to find that, I certainly hope so. Tell Miguel to stop by if he has any questions. Or,” Thad smiled, “if he just wants to chat.”

  I gave a short laugh and took another swig of soda. Thad picked up the stack of mail and snapped the elastic around his wrist. He stopped on the Victoria’s Secret catalog. Thad lived in an apartment above the shop, so all his personal mail came here. He held up the catalog so I could see it. “Is this the one Petra’s in?”

  “Might be,” I said, moving next to him. Thad paged through the catalog, then stopped on a two-page spread of a marble-skinned woman draped across a set of red satin sheets. She wore a black lace teddy with matching garters and stockings, and her dark brown hair spilled out all around her.