Jack in the Leaves had been a companion to humanity for as long as it had existed. He was the face watching from the forest. Often feared, but always present. He had been their protector and guardian. His father had told him such. He was born for that purpose. Even after his Sin, after his banishment from Tir-Na-Nog, and after the Sundering, he had still tried to protect them.

  The Church had taken him in at the founding. Paul had placed him as a foundation, IN the foundations, of his new Church and Jack had guided them. He’d held it together quietly. The Eastern and Western Churches had reunited. Martin Luther had been satisfied. Every threat, Jack had defused. He loved humanity, even with its flaws. It was those flaws he sought to correct.

  But that whole time, over two thousand years, he had been held in the Secret Archives. As Guardian and Chief Display. Then, this new Pope. a younger man. a man of the people, had asked the question.

  “Why do we treat our greatest asset as a prisoner?”

  Jack had been summoned to the Paul VI Audience Hall and brought before a large council. He hadn’t been above ground in so, so long. That walk there with his hood up would have been worth countless indignities. To see the sun again. . .

  He’d stood before them and been forced to hear men argue about why he shouldn’t be allowed to stand before of them. They argued that he must be kept secret. The Pope and several others offered counterpoints to their arguments. It seemed almost like a simple courtesy, but the new Pope spoke with such passion. Conti had stepped forward and chastised them all over the cruelty of keeping a plant from the sun. He smiled listening to the man that should have been his son. Finally, he was allowed to speak. He’d made it halfway through his argument that he would eventually die from the conditions of his captivity, when a massive surge hit the mana web and had caused Jack to pass out. He came to with Conti and the Pope standing over him. Conti had tears in his eyes. The Pope was terrified.

  That incident had been troubling, but fortuitous. It had made them consider his health, finally, and consider where they would be with the loss of his council. They’d decided that things had to change because the risk wasn’t worth it any more. The Pope had formally, and publicly, apologized for his treatment. The world knew Jack in the Leaves existed. He'd been interviewed on the news. Conti had called him a "media darling". Jack didn't know what that really meant, but it sounded flattering.

  And that was how Jack found himself sitting in a private jet for the very first time, watching clouds roll by below him. He was excited and when he looked up, Conti sat across from him smiling. It felt like their roles were reversed and Jack didn’t care. He felt alive again.

  “You’ve done this often in my service, haven’t you, Conti?”

  “More times than I can count, my lord.” The aged man said. Jack tried to pay attention but his eyes kept going back to the tiny window and the world far below him.

  “Conti, while I can at least pay some attention, could you review the facts we have about the mana flux that struck me? I may be able to fill in a detail or two if I have the full information.” Jack said, trying to force the smile from his mycelial face. It didn’t work.

  “Well, my lord,” Conti said, as he pulled up a tablet, “The flux was centered in Louisiana. We’ve centered it over the former town of Dans la Bouche.”

  “Former?” Jack turned. He knew of the town. The Old Ones had few holds still on the surface.

  “Yes.” Conti continued. “When our people arrived, every man, woman, and child had been wiped from the Earth. Not that they’d had many children, thank the Lord.”

  “So the town was leveled?” Jack asked.

  “No, my lord. The town is fine. It’s like a divine hand reached down and struck the occupants from the globe.”

  Jack watched Conti for a time.

  “I’m willing to wager that Terry Lingal had been in New Orleans shortly before hand, or shortly after?” he asked his caretaker.

  Conti scrolled until he found what he needed and blinked.

  “Yes, my lord. How did you know?”

  “I know what he is, Conti. His mother was a mage. His father was a knight. He wants to have it both ways. Or, he is trying to and doesn’t realize it.” Jack said, propping his chin on his thumb and forefinger.

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  “Still, my lord, there are people that think this may have been more than one man could perform. It may have been a move by the Circle of the Greenman?”

  “No, Conti. The Circle is tied too closely to the Old Ones in many ways. It was Lingal. And he has my sword.”

  Neither of them said anything for a very long time.

  “My lord,” Conti began, but he looked around to make sure the cabin was empty before continuing, “JACK. You said your sword was gone. You’d tried to summon it. How could an Errant Apprentice from the backwaters of Mississippi of all places have it?! Even if he IS a wizard?!”

  Jack smiled. The rare moments that Conti let the servant role drop were precious to him.

  “How he has it, I don’t know.” Jack said. “I’d heard stories that Glen had gained an enchanted sword. I’d not thought about it because who today in the Order DOESN’T have one. Even Lawless had received one. They’re available online. But this?”

  He looked out the window. The clouds had lost some of his interest finally.

  “No, Conti, I know the feeling of my sword effecting the web. I might have missed it pulling mana into itself, but that surge? It effected the entire web. It was like a signal. A flare.”

  He looked at his long time companion.

  “Do you know what this means?”

  “No, my lord. I don’t.”

  Jack smiled.

  “It means that the major plan we had? It might not be necessary. Not if I can regain what is mine. I’ll need Lingal taken, of course. If I can absorb him, then perhaps I won’t need to feed any more.” He thought about it. “We’ll need to take his partner, Cody, as well.”

  He watched Conti sigh with relief. Their main plan had been risky. It would also be very public. This would be more simple. He could simply travel up the Axis Mundi to where he needed to be.

  “My lord,” Conti said, “If we take Ms. Cody, it could be a bargaining chip.”

  “Perhaps. I’d rather deal with this when we land though. I want to go over the bare minimum with Takewell.” Jack said. He brightened. “Conti, I want to see New Orleans. I want to walk the streets. I want to see everything I can before the world is remade.” His excitement returned, and Conti smiled at him.

  “My lord, I will personally escort you. It would be my pleasure.” The old man looked happier than Jack had seen him since finding him in the ruins of Europe after the war.

  Father Alexander Takewell was in as close to a panic as he had ever been. Jack in the Leaves was going to land in a short time. He’d met the. . . Man?. . . Once. The entity was full of machinations and plots. Always plots. The world learning of his existence? It was part of something. Then there was that creepy old man he kept with him. Conti. The boot-lick.

  Anyway, the first thing he did was call Steve into his office. As soon as he came in, Alex was hit with pain. Technically his brother was dead. He’d been dead for years. He’d never let go of what was left, though. He’d never stop hoping. Alex wiped his face with his hands to try and stop himself from tearing up. Now wasn’t the time.

  “Are you all right, Alex?” Steve asked him.

  “No. No I’m not all right, but that doesn’t matter. I’ve had word that we may be going after Lingal. I know a guy who knows a guy that works with Jack in the Leaves.”

  “That goes counter to our previous instructions.” Steve said.

  “I know it does. This is Jack. He can change plans at the drop of a hat and leave us dangling in the wind. Well, I want someone out there tracking him down that I can trust to fuck it up on purpose. Steve, take a cleric and two of the guards and go to Raymond.”

  Steve blinked and looked surprised.

  “Do we know that is where he is?”

  “Nope. But he’s Glen’s boy and I tried to break him. He’s probably gone home.” Alex said, looking through his desk frantically. “I’m going to try and get in touch with him in a way that hopefully can’t be linked back to me. I’ll tell him who he can and can’t trust. You’re on that list.”

  Steve watched his brother for a moment, then walked around the desk and knelt beside him.

  “I know what you’re doing, Alex. You don’t have to do this. I’m not worth it.”

  “Shut up! You shut up!” Alex found himself yelling. The tears he’d tried to hold back earlier finally breaking through. He grabbed his brother’s shoulders.

  “I don’t care what they did to you. I don’t care what you are now. You are STILL my brother Steven. You’re also my subordinate, and you’re going to do this. You know what Jack will do. I couldn’t save you before. I’ll save what I can this time. I’m sorry.”

  Steve pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Alex, which he took gladly. He cleaned his face.

  “That is correct. I AM your subordinate. I had to at least try and stop you, though.” Steve said. Sometimes Alex thought there was just a bit of his brother left.

  “Well I need you to go. Now.” Alex said, keeping the handkerchief. He wouldn't want it back used. “When you find him? Stay with him. You understand me? Stay with him. Stay with him and bring him to me. Keep him safe. I'll tell you where to hide him till then. I still don’t know what all this is about, but if Jack is interested it can’t be good.”

  Alex finally found what he was looking for. An old cellphone. He turned it on, let it boot, and watched as Steve nodded and walked out of the office for hopefully the last time. Once the phone was booted, he found his old email app and typed something up for Lingal. He was very careful of his wording. He had to go back and try to remember the exact wording of Lingal’s vow. The boy was cunning AND a wordsmith. Well, Alex Takewell may not be a writer, but he was a survivor and cunning enough for any two knights, and that was all that counted in the end.

  Finally satisfied, he broke the phone in half and threw it in the garbage. He poured his coffee on it, then put a mound of trash on top of it for good measure. Alex went over his office once to make sure there was nothing the plant or the old man could take umbrage with, then sat at his desk waiting for them to arrive.

  The hell he would.

  Alex packed some things he was certain he would need then left the office so quickly that no one had a chance to ask where he was going.

  by NeoRyu777

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