The Balance Omnibus by Alan Baxter

Author:Alan Baxter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriler, urban fantasy, paranormal, religion, demons, occult, gaiman, iron druid, jim butcher, fantasy, baxter, balance, alex caine
Publisher: Gryphonwood Press
Published: 2016-01-22T05:00:00+00:00

2

A howling gale caused leafless branches of crooked trees to scratch and scrape on the leadlight windows. By flickering orange firelight three men sat, each reclined in a leather wingback chair arranged in a crescent in front of the hearth. The room was a library, every wall covered floor to ceiling with shelves crammed with books, from ancient leather bound volumes to modern paperbacks and magazines. Two of the men leaned toward each other, chatting quietly, while the third stared deep into the dancing flames, his face creased in a worried frown, his hands kneading nervously. There was a slight sneer to his frown, the wavering shadows making his face appear animated, the flesh undulating. It was a gaunt, old face, lined and rough. And it was a mean face, the eyes small, penetrating. The gaunt man shot out one hand, grabbing one of the other men roughly by the shoulder. ‘Shut up your inane waffle!’

The man jumped in surprise, his face shocked. ‘Sorry. We are just... excited at the prospect.’

The gaunt man turned in his chair, leaning towards the other two. ‘Excitement, Braden, is not what we need here now. We need clear thinking, caution, strategy. We don’t need grown men acting like children at Christmas.’

Braden’s face paled under the harsh stare of the gaunt man. ‘Yes, Dominus, of course. But the things you plan! It is no mystery that you are known as the Sorcerer. The magics will be truly awesome.’

The Sorcerer shook his head, his eyes piercing Braden’s face. ‘A time of great trials is approaching and we may well have our greatest hour, but we will not let anything fall apart due to over-confidence or a misplaced ease of mind. Do you understand?’ Braden nodded sullenly. The Sorcerer leaned forward to see the other man in the farthest chair. ‘Colley?’ Averting his eyes from the Sorcerer’s harsh stare, Colley nodded too.

The Sorcerer sat back in his chair once more, steepling his fingers before his face as he stared into the depths of the fire. The fireplace was enormous, gothic swirls of marble and iron. The fire roared and leapt amongst huge logs piled in the grate, yet it only just gave warmth enough to heat the room. The Sorcerer sneered, his top lip curling as he cursed again this terrible, ancient home. Always cold and dank, the thick stone walls almost slimy to the touch. He had had fires like this blazing in every room for weeks and the cold had barely begun to lift from the place. But it was a solid, strong house, well removed from the rest of society, nestled among the forests and fields of this old country estate, isolated on these forsaken Yorkshire Moors of northern England. In the depths of winter it was a harsh and lonely place to be, but that was the point. It was extremely fortunate that the Sorcerer had discovered Braden and subsequently discovered that Braden owned this old manor. With the Sorcerer’s added funds to make it liveable once more it had become an ideal base.

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