Blood & Magic (14 page)

Henry cleaned up from his session with Ruth, discovering the unbelievable amount of bruises now covering his body. Miraculously, there was little sign of injury to his face and hands, but to glance at the rest of him, you could easily be mistaken in thinking he had taken a tumble down a steep cliff. Nobody would be able to tell once he was dressed in a long sleeved shirt, although the fact Ruth knew how to leave such little trace of her attacks was more than a little concerning.

He arrived at work early, trying, and failing, to avoid the expected condescending questions of “are you okay?” and “are you sure you are well enough to be back?” people offered, as he made his way to his lab.

Peace at last. Henry retrieved his samples from the fridge and loaded them into a rack, ready for the analyser. Normally he enjoyed repetitive tasks like this, a chance for his mind to wander, but now he found himself fearful of the demons circling above his head while he daydreamed. So today, he focused with all his attention on the samples, the way they clicked neatly into place, how each was held firmly in the grips of the mechanical arms, ready to be received into the heart of the analyser that gurgled and hissed.

The day moved at a constant pace, with no distractions to wile away the odd hour. The flow of normal work seemed so insignificant to the world Henry was no longer ignorant of. Inevitably, his thoughts turned to the under-city, to the wonders of magic and legend, but, most of all, to the excitement of it. The time spent in the under-city had been exhilarating, beyond the realms of his imagination. The threat of death, the fact mercenaries actually had reason to hunt him, sent adrenaline pumping through his veins even now.

The door to the lab opened as Henry was cleaning down the benches, the workload of the day coming to a close.

“Good afternoon Henry,” Matt said with an edge of charisma not suited to him.

“Afternoon,” Henry said.

“How are you?”

Gabriel, or whoever at the government kept this all under wraps, had contacted the lab the previous day to explain Henry's absence and sudden disappearance two nights before. Undiagnosed arrhythmia the solution of choice. It explained the fainting spell, the day away to visit a specialist and the pretence of checking his medication would allow for the chance to slip out in the future, if the need arose.

“Fine.”

“Good, I was wondering if I could ask you a question.”

“Sure.”

“Elle seems upset with me and I thought you'd know what the sort of things she likes? Favourite flower or something she enjoys doing?”

Was he serious? Henry had a few ideas of what he would like to tell him to do, but all resulted in his career ending that afternoon.

“You are better off asking Dixie,” Henry said.

“You can surely understand why I can't ask him?” Matt said.

“I understand alright.”

An awkward pause developed, Matt moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue, it darting around like some sort of eel.

“What the hell?” Dixie said, his sudden appearance causing Henry and Matt to jump.

Dixie stood in the doorway, his folded lab coat clenched in his hand, as he thrust it forwards to punctuate his words. Matt's eyes turned to the floor, but Dixie wasn't there for him.

“You go have a fainting session and nobody tells me. Then, you run off like you are trying to catch the start of a Prada Sale and completely blank me when I call after you. I get to hear from Matt, of all people, that you got an atrial flutter thing that meant you nearly died. But wait, Henry Fellows isn't finished, no, you decide to ignore all my texts and calls as well,” Dixie said.

“Ah, yes. I'm not good at-”

“Communication? I know Henry, I am your friend and am painfully aware that your ability to reply to a single bloody text is worse than non-existent. But when you are in hospital with a heart condition and collapse at work, I expect you to call me.”

Matt took the opportunity to slink out of the side door of the lab, something Henry wished he could do himself.

“Why does it effect you, I was the one who had the-”

“Are you kidding? Christ's sake Henry, that is what being a friend is about. If something happened to me I would expect you to give a damn.”

“Well, of course I'd care, but I don't understand why you are so upset?”

“You are a bloody weirdo, you know. I thought it was endearing, but I'm pretty sure I would get more emotional feedback from a bloody toaster.”

Dixie stormed out of the room, leaving Henry to process what had just happened. For a second, he considered going after him, before deciding better of it. He put away his lab coat, got his bag from his locker and headed out of the building.

As he reached the exit to the lab, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders as Henry flinched.

“Elle, I thought you were going off to Scotland?” Henry said.

“Something came up, Tom told me not to go,” Elle said.

She sighed, letting go of Henry and the pair walked on.

“What happened?” Henry said.

“Doesn’t matter. Anyway, what happened to
you
the other night?”

“Just a minor issue with my heart, but it keeps on beating so everything’s fine.”

“Everything’s fine?”

“Yes. When will Tom be down?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, well I’m sure he wants to see you-”

“Whatever. So what was wrong?”

“They call it an 'atrial flutter'. Too many doughnuts and not enough exercise.”

“Of course, you look terrible for them,” Elle said with a smile.

The pair had walked a fair way through the hospital when he noticed them, the two men following them. He checked if his suspicions were true, taking Elle an awkward route out of the hospital to see if they followed and unfortunately, they did.

“You can speak to me Elle, you know that right? I can’t promise I’ll give you any emotional feedback, but I’m a good sounding board.”

“Henry Fellows, Mr. Emotionless. Think I envy you.”

“No, really you don’t. You are in love.”

“Hmmm.”

“You don’t sound so thrilled?”

“
You
have avoided bringing up Matt. Guess you think I’m a slut like everyone does.”

“Of course not. You aren't to blame, I am sure it was a mistake.”

“A mistake? Why would I make a mistake, if I was happy with Tom?”

“You had a lot to drink and... you're a good person, I know that.”

Henry hurried their exit as they crossed the courtyard and went through the main entrance, but the men kept close pace behind them. They didn't make any effort to conceal their movements, staying a constant distance behind them. He needed to get Elle out of harms way quickly.

“You don’t know anything about me Henry and for starters, you don’t really care.”

“What? How can you think that? Look, maybe you need to think about what you want then? Drink isn’t really an excuse I suppose, you knew what you were doing and the fact you slept with him, well… I don’t know. Your taste in men is appalling.”

Elle glared at him, halting their walk.

“What?”

“I'm sorry, I... only meant it as a joke.”

“You got one thing right Henry, my taste in men certainly is appalling.”

Elle turned and walked in the opposite direction. His comment had been crueller than he had intended, but at least now she was away from him, although he had no idea what the connotation of her last words were. Taking a right outside of the main gate, Henry moved along the perimeter of the hospital until it hit Little Britain street and prepared himself to run.

A hand grabbed his arm and pushed him into the doorway of an office before he realised what was happening. Two men stood before him, blocking his exit, a child-like excitement to their movements.

“Can I help you?” Henry said.

Henry raised his gaze to meet their eyes, quickly scanning over them. A memory of 'the night', as his brain now categorised it, flashed into consciousness. He had seen these two before. The pulse of crimson shimmering in the first man's eyes now made way for his full transformation, red ink trickling from the corner of his eyes, running down his face and neck, before disappearing past his shirt. The second man, who Henry now saw to be holding a knife, wasn't quite the same as his friend. His irises cracked with red and blue as short purple fur spread out across his body, his muscles ballooning to steroid induced size. He reminded Henry of a panther, his eyes cruel and predator-like, his body tense with anticipation. Henry blinked and the image, as always, faded to normality.

“We won't miss you twice, waited all day to track you down again. You're our prize, not losing our bounty cos' we couldn't kill some scrawny kid,” the one with the knife said.

The man lunged, his blade sailing towards Henry as he closed his eyes, unable to do anything more.

“
Arma
,” Henry said under his breath.

The words left his mouth in automatic answer to his current situation. He felt something pull from him, his clothes tugged and battered by the wind. Opening his eyes, Henry saw the man buckling as he hit some invisible wall that diverted his knife away. The sensation was strange, a tension rippling through his body as the knife hit, every muscle aching in unison for a single moment. The man stumbled into the wall and Henry tried to move away, but he had nowhere to go, the other man was blocking his only escape route.

So this was how it ended, he had fallen out with all his friends, discovered he had lived a lie all his life and now, he was to be the prize of some half-witted bounty hunters.

Two shots sounded out along the street and the men fell to the floor, their bodies convulsing.

“Get in you muppet,” Gabriel said.

Gabriel was sitting in the drivers seat of a car that had pulled up at the end of the street, a smoking gun in his hand. Henry rushed to the car and got in the passenger side.

“How did you know?” Henry said.

“Know what? You nearly got in trouble there, good job we had an appointment otherwise our partnership could have been pretty short lived.”

“Damn, I forgot all about it. Thanks… again.”

“Those guys looked like they were going to do you a rough deal. I didn’t kill them before you get tetchy, I shot them with a stunner. It knocks them out and leaves a small tracer on their body for the Inquisition to pick up.”

“How did they find me?”

“They were part of the same group who tracked you the night you transformed. It is a bit of a bounty hunt when an Inquisitor first changes, but normally yet-to-change Inks are kept in safer locations. They didn't know who you were, they were just waiting for you to leave. We just need to hope they are the only ones who will be able to find you, although Alice took care of a few of them the other night.”

“Alice?”

“The Inquisitor who came to our rescue in the under-city. Bit of a cow, but very good at her job.”

“Hopefully I'll be able to defend myself soon.”

“
Hopefully
.”

Gabriel gave him a knowing smile and drove on.

“You more of a house guy, or Garage?” Gabriel said, as he put on the car stereo.

“I literally have no clue what you are talking about,” Henry said.

“You’re like a seventy year old stuck in a twenty year old’s body.”

Some God awful music played out over the stereo, which Henry guessed was either ‘House’ or ‘Garage,’ but he avoided asking which.

“Do you remember when you tried to see down that alleyway that led to the human markets, when we were in the under-city?” Gabriel said.

“The one which had the distraction field around it,” Henry said.

“Exactly, well the Inquisition head quarters have similar protection. I will guide you in this time, but you need to keep your wits about you as I won't show you the way again. We will be returning here tomorrow.”

“Why not?”

“It's traditional.”

Finding somewhere that is supposed to be unfindable is every bit as difficult as you would think. Gabriel took hold of Henry's arm, as he had so often done in the under-city, and guided him towards a grey nondescript building. It didn’t look particularly impressive, not even warranting a second look as Henry’s gaze was drawn to the surrounding buildings. Henry imagined that was probably the idea, he had seen this type of magic before. Even with Gabriel by his side, Henry found himself wanting to veer away from Holborn Bars with every step and carry on down the road. The nearer they got, the more it felt like walking through a cloud. He couldn’t see where he was are going, but the residing gut feeling was to turn back. Then, as if popping a bubble, the illusion was gone and they we inside a long outer corridor with red stone walls. He had made it inside, although getting back in on his own would be an impossible task.

The building revealed through the distraction field was nothing like the grey monstrosity Henry had first taken it to be. Every traditional iron framed window had intricate stonework carved around it, which blended seamlessly into magnificent arches that split the building into columns, each adorned with ornate sculptures of gargoyles. They stood in the middle of the courtyard, an island bathed in the perfect sunlight as glass skylights for the floors below shimmered like the ocean around them.

Meyer walked towards them beside a man who, although of similar age, was about a quarter of Meyer's weight. They were followed by a sturdily built man with dark hair and a sculpted beard that Henry could not have grown in a lifetime.

“Boy, this is Wade, Head of the Inquisition,” Meyer said.

The man, who looked to Henry like a lost thespian looking for his next part, beamed at him with a crooked smile. He wore tiny round spectacles that sat high on the bridge of his nose and a scraggy faded blue jacket.

“It is so good to finally meet you Henry,” Wade said. “Before you run off, would you mind taking a short walk with me?”

Henry looked to Gabriel and then to Meyer, who just shrugged. This wasn't so much an invitation as a formal request.

Wade extended his arm to the open air corridor that ran around the courtyard, and Henry followed him inside it. Wade walked slowly, every step awkward as he leant on Henry for support, although he was sure Wade needed any assistance at all. Everything about him felt like an act. Henry looked across to Gabriel, who gestured that they were going to wait inside the building. The two of them walked out of sight, leaving the bearded man in the centre of the courtyard, his focus on Henry and Wade.

“This must be quite a lot for you to take in Henry,” Wade said, stopping so that they were hidden from the bearded man.

“That is a bit of an understatement, it's all quite overwhelming if I'm honest.”

“I imagine so, but you survived your transformation, a close call at times I believe.”

With that, Henry felt a slight pressure on his thoughts: Wade was trying to infiltrate his mind. Henry desperately pushed his thoughts to something distant, and the first thing that came to mind was
chocolate
. He thought of hot chocolate, with marshmallows and whipped cream, of the multitude of brands, of Easter eggs, of chocolate fountains and everything else chocolaty he could imagine.

“You were quite the secret,” Wade said.

“Secret?” Henry said, battling to contain his thoughts.

“Your father kept you off the records. The first I knew about it was when we were alerted to your transformation. Did you never know him?”

“I never met him, I didn't know
my
father wasn't my biological one.”

“That must have been a shock?”

“It was.”

“What do you remember about him
now
?”

“Nothing at all.”

“I take it you understand how genetic memories work? All of his memories should now be yours.”

“I do understand, and believe me, I want to know what happened to him more than anyone else, but I have absolutely no thoughts or memories from his life.”

“Strange, it is as if...”

Wade stopped walking and closed his eyes.

“Wards. Someone has blocked your memories, do you know who that was?”

“How do you-”

“Judging by the handiwork, I would say... Meyer. Maybe I need to have a word with him.” Wade said, his attention now elsewhere. “Until next time Henry.”

Henry didn't need telling twice. Taking his leave, he crossed the courtyard and entered the building, rapidly climbing the large marble staircase as Wade continued to pace around outside.

“What was that about?” Gabriel said, as he and Meyer met Henry on the landing.

“Meyer, did you put a blocker on me retrieving Mark's memories?” Henry said.

“I take it Wade now knows?” Meyer said.

“Yes.”

“He asked me to. I am investigating ways to undo that, because if you
can
remember, you might be able to identify who killed him.”

“And perhaps more. We think Mark discovered something about the Inquisition that Wade doesn't want to get out. Hopefully, you'll be able to tell us what that is,” Gabriel said.

“We will see,” Meyer said.

They led Henry to the first floor, and down a long corridor filled with people in suits, fluttering from room to room like humming birds. At the end of the corridor, Gabriel opened a door and gestured for Henry to go inside.

“I'll leave you both. I am going to try and find Ruth, she is around here somewhere apparently,” Meyer said.

Henry took a seat by a work bench as Gabriel closed the door behind them.

“So Henry, I heard you had an interesting training session today?” Gabriel said.

“Interesting was certainly one way to put it. I would say more painful than anything. How does she do it? I'm almost completely purple,” Henry said.

“Great aim, hasn't she. She's a little mad, but full of fun.”

“I take it she told you about our breakthrough?”

“She did, which I think is just typical of you. Always overthinking things, of course that would mean you were useless at letting something that knows better that you take over. She was also right about Elle you know, either tell her you like her or give up. Go get yourself laid, that will soon help you forget about her.”

“So eloquently put Gabriel. Why does everyone feel the need to play the part of my romantic advisor? In any event, Elle and I are just friends - nothing more.”

“Whatever you tell yourself Henry. I'm going to go and find Rosalyn. I'll let her know you are here, but I've got a few errands to run so I'm going to head off. I take it you can find your own way home?”

And with that, Henry was left alone in the lab with just the gentle beeps of equipment for company. He had just started to roll around on his stool (the natural response of any boy left with something that can be used as a makeshift race car), including a spin for good measure, when an exaggerated cough interrupted him.

Standing before him was a woman in her late twenties, brown hair cropped at shoulder length, with a sweet, circular face and tiny upturned nose. She wore extremely thick glasses, that magnified her eyes twofold, and was dressed in a loose fitting Indian style shirt and white linen trousers.

“Henry Fellows?” she said.

“Sorry, I was just…” Henry said, coming to a rest in front of her.

“Apologies for taking so long, but I'm glad you found something to entertain yourself with.”

Henry stood sheepishly from the stool.

“Right then. Today we are going to start you off on a treatment that will stop the excess energy you generate. If you can lie down on the gurney and take your shirt off please, we will begin.”

Henry laid back on the gurney, the cold metal on his back eliciting a shiver.

“There is no need to be concerned, I am a doctor. My name is Rosalyn,” she said.

“A doctor of what exactly?” Henry said.

“Lots of things actually, but biotechnology is really my thing.”

She hadn’t replied with ‘doctor of medicine,’ which was what Henry had been hoping for. Rosalyn had an air of confidence about her, from they way she stood with her shoulders pulled back to the consistency of her tone. That, if nothing else, was surely a good sign.

“So, as you know, magus is stored in red blood cells,” Rosalyn said.

Henry didn’t know that.

“And it transfers itself to different areas of the body, dependant on the type of magus that you have.”

He didn’t know that either. She obviously thought he knew more about all of this than he did, but he wouldn’t correct her. It never did any harm to be perceived as cleverer than you are.

“Well, Inks, or should I say, Inquisitors - like yourself, produce more magus in their system than normal alternates do. We believe this grants you the ability to switch between both your powers and charms, the latter only possible in Inks. Anyway, magus energy left unchecked is pretty deadly, think of it like acute radiation poisoning.”

Well, that sounded just swell. If she was a doctor of medicine in her long list of degrees, her bedside manner was appalling.

“In most alternates, the excess amount is harmless, but that isn’t true for Inks. We combat the effects using injections of dysprosium, which is the magus element that converts raw magus energy into matter, which your body can then process and remove. The solution we use is a little more involved than that in fact, utilising biotechnology to make sure your body removes the converted magus safely,” Rosalyn said.

Rosalyn took his arm and produced a syringe filled with what looked like liquid charcoal. She flashed him a smile.

“You will be completely fine,” Rosalyn said.

The use of the word
completely
was more concerning than its admission. People tend to only over exaggerate things when they were unsure of them, which is quite discomforting when they are injecting you with a carbon coloured concoction. In a single swift motion, Rosalyn pressed the plunger and the dark solution shot beneath Henry’s skin. It was a familiar sensation, something hot flowing through every vein and capillary, touching every cell.

“This would be the stuff Gabriel injected me with, when I first changed?” Henry said.

“Yes, it is. You need to stay still for a moment while the dysprosium takes effect. While you wait, I can show you your first bit of Ink equipment,” Rosalyn said.

Rosalyn produced a metal briefcase and opened it on the bench to the side of Henry. He couldn’t see what was inside from where he sat on the gurney, but she had told him not to move, so he remained still (in a constant battle with his curiosity). She withdrew a jet black wristband from the case and carefully wrapped it around his wrist. The device fitted perfectly, almost as if it had been built just for him. She swiped along the band and the device lit up, a screen appearing along the once opaque surface. It showed a long thin blue bar running along the band, split into perhaps twenty little sections. About ninety-five percent were lit up, the remainder a dull grey.

“Is this measuring how much magus is in my system?” Henry said.