Nexus Event - Chapter 17

The Society of Judas.

Even in a wholly mundane world, the Catholic Church has more than its fair share of secret societies, hidden branches, and forgotten organizations. It's not even uncommon for them to be all three at the same time. Between the surviving Nazis, the groups that cover up the rampant sexual assaults committed by priests and nuns, the heretical sects within the church itself, and all manner of lunatics high on the power that was bestowed on them by the Earthly representative of God Himself...

...and that's not even getting into the hidden banking institution or secret Vatican library.

Again, though, all of that shit existed in almost every variant of a normal, mundane Catholic Church. It was an institution a millennia and a half old, after all, with roots going back even further.

Now, add in a secret society of magic users.

See... the Catholic Church had a somewhat rocky relationship with magic. Given the length of time we're talking about, certain Vatican administrations had liked the idea of having loyal clergy capable of bending reality to their will and others had viewed them as a threat to the institutional power of the church itself.

The latter was, admittedly, more common than the former.

But... there were loopholes, too.

For instance, while 'The Church' is often portrayed as a monolithic entity, institutional power is handed down to local leaders. Especially in time where communication was a lengthy and tedious process where messages could be intercepted by bandits, well... a given cardinal or bishop or the local head of a monastery could have a great deal of leeway on how they interpreted the edits of the Vicar of Christ in specific and scripture in general.

And a lot of devout individuals who were incidentally capable of magic simply didn't call themselves wizards or witches.

They were philosophers.

Or alchemists.

Or whatever convenient lie of omission was necessary when they needed to obscure their metaphysical powers.

So to say that the Catholic Church had any real uniform policy regarding magical people or magical species... well, it's a gross exaggeration of the highest order.

But most of those groups remember the atrocities more than the long decades of peace and coexistence.

And a big reason why was because of the Society of Judas.

“Ah, as I live and breathe! A Pendragon on Holy Italian soil!” The giant of a man in a white robe over a thin gown of coarse goatskin tied around the waist. “Were it still the bygone ages where I could have you boiled in oil or burned at the stake!”

I smiled as the tension ratcheted up from Cassandra and Kitty at my sides, pushing a wave of calm at them.

“It's always a pleasure to be greeted by a sect so heretical, violent, and crazy that even your boss is afraid of removing you,” I replied with a pleasant tone.

The Catholic Mage-Hunter laughed loudly, clapping his hands once. “It is refreshing to see that one of your family still has their spine. The last one we dealt with practically wet himself, my predecessor's papers are to be believed.”

“Great-Grandfather Thomas was more of a courtier than anything else. He had genteel sensibilities,” I waved the insult off. “I can't imagine too many refined people of culture have the tenacity to retain control of their bowels when in your presence.”

The priest gave me a snort and chuckle, then shook his head as he sat down. “Alright. I guess I can put up with a royal brat like you if you can put up with that kind of talk without running back to your mother.”

“You mean that was all some kind of test?” Kitty asked, scowling at the man.

I shook my head. “No. He really feels that way. Father Schadel genuinely hates any and all magical beings, including witches and wizards, who operate outside the purview of the church. He's the type of man who would have burned people at the stake a few centuries ago.”

Cass scowled at the man, her fist clenching at her side, the only outward sign of her frustration at being forced to deal with someone like this non-violently.

“And we need a guy like this... why?” Kitty asked, disgust lacing her voice as she glared at the priest.

“If you'll allow me to speak for myself,” the hulking man interrupted, amusement lacing his tone as he gave a mocking bow from his sitting position. “As the head priest of the Society of Judas, I - Father Nikolai Schadel, know all about the sordid history of how my poor and disavowed order has been repeatedly and routinely used as a deniable weapon by this boy's family of heretics and apostates.”

I rolled my eyes and nodded at Kitty's wide eyes searching for confirmation. “Putting aside the childish plea for innocence by blaming my family, we do have a history of using them as deniable assets to take care of problematic groups.”

Kitty grimaced, looking away. “So my boss works with a group of religious nutjobs who hunt down anyone who doesn't conform to their sense of what's right. You can guess how that makes me feel.”

I hummed, nodding, holding up a hand to stop the still-amused Schadel from speaking. “This is my first time personally working with them and, generally speaking, we only point them at violent lunatics that they''d enjoy killing even without us paying them.”

“I have to admit that's true,” Schadel chuckled, reaching up to cradle his chin, which was as bald as his head. “Pendragons have always had a soft spot for innocent civilians. They even pay us extra to extract the children those monsters abduct unharmed.”

Kitty blinked, looking between the two of us and quickly determining that she'd been used, her grimace shifting to something approaching a snarl at the priest.

Schadel simply laughed in response, unknowing – or perhaps uncaring – of how close he was to serious injury.

Cassandra, quiet as always, gave off vibes that were less violent, but no more dangerous for it.

I sighed and cast a glance around the room. It was a very ordinary villa in the Italian countryside, hidden away in a remote mountain village that was barely on any map. This was the kind of place where the modern world hadn't truly penetrated yet, where the church was still the center of daily life and where the local church-run orphanage was the heart of economic activity.

It was impossible to tell how many people in the village knew that the little housing complex was actually a home for wayward magicals or what they were being trained for.

“If you're done trying to incite my friends into violence against me?” I asked the priest mildly. Part of me regretted not bringing Sara on this trip, but... well, she would have escalated instead of backing down. My sister might no longer be constantly urged towards violence by an extra-dimensional parasite, but old habits died hard.

Regrettably, I needed this man functional and cooperative instead of a raving psychotic who'd just had his entire life upended by a bratty preteen whose pride he'd injured.

“I suppose,” Schadel hummed, raising a hand towards the young attendant at the doorway, the boy only a few years older than us. “They'll be on guard for it now, anyway, and that takes away most of the fun. So, Pendragon-boy... why come all the way out here yourself instead of sending a gopher?”

Because you'd be even more obnoxious to them in my stead and I don't want to drag this out any further than I have to.

I sighed and reached down to the case I was carrying, pulling it up. “Tell me, how many combatants can you muster with extended notice?”

Schadel blinked for the first time during our conversation, frowning at me. “Provided you can pay? Hmm... give me three months and I can get... ten thousand?”

“How many of them are fit to teach?” I asked. “Give them a class of... ten or fifteen each, let's say.”

“This conversation definitely isn't going where I expected,” Schadel muttered, still frowning thoughtfully as I fed him even more odd questions. The young attendant interrupted thing as he stepped into the room carrying coffee and ice water. “Drink, please. The water's for you, so you know it's not poisoned or anything.”

I still tested it discreetly, giving Cass and Kitty a nod each.

Taking a pull from his coffee, Schadel sighed. “That's more of a question of how many of the students would be willing to learn and what you'd want them to be taught.”

“I'd want you to teach them everything the Society has to teach,” I replied bluntly. “I'd be willing to pay for your time and allow you to recruit a willing number of them into your organization no greater than five percent of the total as an incentive to teach them well.”

Schadel was scowling now, his gaze narrowed at me. “You're acting like we need that many. The Society doesn't have the kind of workload we used to. We can't feed that many mouths once you pull out.”

I waved the complaint off. “Imagine you have more contracts than you know what to do with and more work than you can possibly finish in your lifetime.”

“I don't appreciate being made fun of, if this is a joke,” Schadel growled. “And if it's not, you're making it sound like you're planning to take on the entire world. Planning to be a modern-day Arthur?”

“And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood.”

There was a long, heavy silence.

The sound of the attendant's platter shattering on the ground broke it.

“Do you have even the slightest idea of what you're suggesting, Solomon Pendragon?” Schadel asked, his gaze intent and serious.

I hummed and withdrew a sheaf of papers from my case, setting them on the table in front of us. “Being perfectly clear, I find much of the Society of Judas to be utterly disgusting. You use brainwashed child soldiers, you raid magical settlements in remote parts of the world, you kill as an indulgence to a religion that is supposed to be about peace and tolerance. You are the worst parts of a medieval mindset brought to life and given form. If there was a better option, I want you to rest assured I'd be talking to almost anyone else.”

Despite my insults, the burly priest smiled. “So we're the best choice? I suppose if you truly believe the apocalypse is coming...”

“The Society of Judas is the only remaining military force on Earth that utilizes fully modern military tactics and weaponry in conjunction with the application of magical knowledge,” I stated bluntly, and it hurt to admit.

The military forces under the Pendragon flag weren't anything to be ashamed of, but...

Well, we still used cavalry, pikemen, and cannon that hadn't been modernized since the mid-eighteen hundreds. That was still a few dozens steps above what virtually anyone else was using, but nothing to brag about, either. That was especially true given that the only governments that really had a magical military were a few city-states in the Middle East, India, south-east Asia, and China. Regrettably, they were all even more primitive than our own.

Honestly, the Pendragon armed forces were more of an honorary position than anything else.

Oh, they knew how to fight and they were perfectly willing to kill on orders from the nobility, but actual organized violence that required military force was usually limited to rogue dragon attacks, not organized responses to other militaries.

The Society of Judas, on the other hand?

They had been fighting a variety of small and large-scale (though admittedly few of the latter) military conflicts against the world's worst dark lords over the past five centuries. There was a reason that, despite the worst abuses of the seventeenth century, the collective response of the newly-constructed magical governments had been to pointedly ignore the Vatican's wetworks teams.

Because they did everyone's dirty work.

At least until the rot gets so deep that a government tells them to fuck off so that the Dark Lord can finish formally taking power.

Britain wasn't the only example, but it was the most prominent and visible.

“So, what... we're going to be fighting against the forces of hell?” Schadel asked, leaning back as much as he was able and crossing his arms.

“As long as you're amenable to my terms, you'd be forming the core of a military command structure to fight something analogous to an army of demons and devils. I'll be asking you to coordinate with a number of non-magical and magical mercenaries that I've organized the hiring of as well to supplement the educational infrastructure,” I explained calmly, seriously.

“You really believe this, don't you?” Schadel asked, looking at the folder in front of us and finally reaching out to take it.

“When a man who can move through the most powerful wards money can't buy shows up in your home and tells you that the world is ending, you listen,” I replied, blaming my alternate identity for the information.

“That's all he had to do, huh? Maybe I should send one of our assassins to tell you that the sky... is... falling...” Schadel began, trailing off as he bag to read.

The first few pages were a study on the disposition of the local forces of 'good,' the Silver Legion, in the local multiverse and how they weren't available to deal with this crisis. Regardless of how delusional I considered this man and his organization for following, it was a useful lever to motivate him into action. The fact that I had actual pictures of real angels doing battle with actual demons and devils on file probably helped.

The holographically-displayed animations, ones not even local magic was capable of replicating, was a nice touch, too.

For nearly ten minutes, the two girls and I sat in silence as Schadel watched and read.

“I suppose God doesn't consult mortals when he picks his messengers,” Schadel stated slowly, closing the files at last and taking a deep breath. “His designs, after all, are not for us to know. The fact that you've been visited by someone who does know them... that is proof enough.”

I nodded. “The final proof will come in September, when the first gate opens. The mundane military of whichever nation receives it will likely be able to handle that alone. Your forces will be committed to training.”

Schadel nodded gravely. “Provided everything occurs as described in this document during the appointed period, you will have our services as cheaply as I can arrange for. Under the circumstances, I would normally not charge at all, but...”

“We exist in an imperfect world,” I nodded. “Where people expect to be paid for the privilege of defending their own lives, families, and the world they live in from an invasion of the forces of evil.”

“Hah! You might be a heretic, but I suppose it wouldn't be too awful to fight and die in the service of God's will with someone who properly understands!” Schadel brazenly laughed, then clapped his hands loudly. “You do understand that if this actually is some manner of deception, it will mean the full force of the Society of Judas comes down on New Camelot with God's divine wrath.”

It wasn't a question. “I'm aware, yes. My family has always dealt honorably with you, despite our many disagreements. I'll ask that, despite the incredible circumstances, you trust in our lengthy history of cooperation.”

Schadel stared at me quietly, then nodded decisively. “Good. Well, I have work to do. You may see yourselves out.”

“Thank god we can finally leave,” Kitty muttered as we stood and moved towards the door. Once we were out of the seemingly-small meeting building, she looked towards me. “Are you sure we can trust them?”

“Trust them to do what?” I asked her in turn. “To walk my dog? To watch my house over the weekend? To borrow my car while I'm away on vacation? No. I would not trust them with anything I didn't explicitly want set on fire, shot full of enchanted silver, or interrogated by torture.”

“You trust criminals to act in certain ways,” Cassandra chimed in with a whisper-light tone. “But only in those ways. A gun only knows how to shoot, a killer only knows how to kill.”

Kitty grimaced, shooting a venomous look at the building we'd come from as we walked far enough out of town to be away from their wards. We needed to sell the illusion that our public identities were still bound by the known laws of magic, after all. “So long as I don't have to deal with those assholes, I don't really care, I guess. Why'd you want me along on this trip, anyway?”

“Because you were feeling like you weren't properly contributing to the group and had vital skills necessary to exfiltrate the situation if the organization had gone insane or decided we were lying for whatever reason,” I replied glibly, making her blink. “And, also, because you'd hate them.”

“You'll... have to explain that one to me,” Kitty replied slowly, her eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“You're a Gay, Jewish, Mutant,” I reminded her. “If anyone has reason to dislike the Catholic Church in our group, it's you. I wanted someone along who wouldn't fall for any bullshit they tried to feed you.”

Kitty winced. “But I still-”

“Once,” I nodded, “but you also waited to hear me out before getting upset, and it's not a mistake you'll make again, will you?”

She shook her head, a hard look in her eyes. “I'm sorry that I even believed him for a second.”

“That's good enough for me, then,” I sighed, reaching up to rub at my forehead. “Besides, my family has used the Society of Judas for some unsavory things before. Things that are less black and white than what he pretended, likely because he hasn't read up on all of the things his order has done for my family. More than a few of them are ancient history.”

“But never innocents?” Kitty asked intently.

I shook my head. “The Pendragon family, to the best of my knowledge, never mobilized the Society of Judas to kill a single innocent person. Man, woman, child, or a member of a magical species. That doesn't mean it didn't happen, but we never asked them to do it.”

That's also not to say that we never knowingly allowed it to happen, either.

The official histories, at least, always read that the Society of Judas had zealously extinguished entire villages and whole family lines.

Finally, I felt us pass the boundary of the ward-line and we vanished back home.

…

“Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygo-” Harriet chattered as she ran through the enormous arcade, followed closely by Sara.

Well, it'd be hard not to, seeing as the younger girl had my sister's hand in a death grip.

“This is... incredibly creepy,” the only real human adult in our party stated, staring up at the large animatronic mouse. He turned to me in disbelief. “And you're sure there's no magic making it dance?”

I snorted, sipping at my soda and feeling the pleasant rush of energy from the sugar as I began subtly bouncing on the balls of my feet. “I'm sure, yeah.”

“Hey boys and girls-!”

“Merlin's Balls!” Sirius hissed, dancing backwards with a horrified expression on his face. “How do muggles think this is a good idea to show children!?”

I snickered, drawing the man's ire.

“Only American mundanes,” I corrected him, glad that the giant three-story Chuck E. Cheese was mostly empty mid-morning on a school day. I could have easily rented the entire thing out, but Harriest didn't want to deprive any other kids of the experience, so I'd compromised in slipping them a few thousand dollars to open early for the party. “Well, that and maybe Japanese mundanes too. We're both pretty weird.”

“You're American? Circe, that makes so much sense...” Sirius shuddered.

I held up a hand and waggled it. “Technically. My sister and I were born in America, at least. One of the premiere magical institutions on the continent is the Magical University of New Orleans which also has some of the best medical facilities on this side of the planet.”

“So you were born there?” Sirius asked, frowning. “I've only ever been to Haiti once to inspect the Black family's holdings back before I got kicked out of the family. Never been to New Orleans.”

“We'll have to try and get you there for Mardi Gras. Harriet's a little young, but between you and Remus, you'll have a pretty fun time,” I hummed. “Anyway, by mundane American law, we count as citizens due to being born within the bounds of the national borders, though we're more officially citizen-subjects of New Camelot, which is about twice the size of Puerto Rico... ah, about twice the size of the entire metropolitan area of London. With about an eighth of the population, only fifty thousand of which are magical.”

Sirius cocked his head oddly, whistling lowly under his breath before taking a swig of his soda and grimacing. “Ugh... it's got a weird taste to it. Reminds me of that shite they served at Petunia's wedding.”

I frowned and took a sip myself. “Ah... probably the chemical additives and sweeteners. Don't worry, you'll get used to it.”

The dog-man looked as though he very much did not want to 'get used to it,' grumbling about pumpkin juice as I felt a tap on my shoulder.

Turning, I saw Cass staring at me impatiently.

I blinked.

Her fingers twisted into a series of rapid shapes. 'You're not having fun.'

She reached out and tapped me in the chest, then reached around and pointed at the large series of colorful tubes and the pit of equally brightly-colored plastic balls off to the side.

I sighed, looked down at my soda the same way most adults would a shot of whiskey, and downed the entire thing in a single long pull.

Sugar and caffeine coursing through my system, I nodded to Cass. “Race you to the top!”

~~~

Here we go!

A nice long chapter with the events of the quick negotiation between Solomon and the Society of Judas as well as Harriet's birthday party. I've got a bit more about the party in the next chapter, I think, especially considering Sirius made his choice, so I need to do at least a little introduction between him and Harriet.

Other than that... I think this is a good jump back into things.

I'll be working on a chapter of Where Your God Is later this month. More Mind Games up next on the list right now, though.