Blood & Magic (20 page)

“Master Niamh, Navitas or
Potentials
are those with the power to manipulate energy fields. Before you ask, the two hybrids that share this power are the Alesh, who also have access to Vis, or the power of force. Besides being what humans would naturally call a witch, as their power allows massive manipulation over the physical world, the Alesh can almost instantly mirror any action they see. Unfortunately, they are impulsive and unpredictable, which combined with their power makes them feared even in the alternate community. The other hybrid is the Grol, who use the Energy power for mechanical means and have access to the Mentalism trait which they use for trade.”

“I wasn’t going to ask that. Why did you presume?” Niamh said.

“I…”

“You should not presume Henry Fellows, especially not with me.”

“I apologise.”

“I was to ask you a question of magus, but it feels unnecessary now. There is one further thing I wish to ask you however. How do you have fun, Henry Fellows?”

The question took him aback, it was a bit more personal than the abstract question before. Was there even a right way to answer this?

“I don’t.”

She smiled and Henry was sure he heard her laugh softly, “Well that will never do. How do others have fun then?”

“By reinforcing the fact they are alive.”

“And you do not need such reinforcement?”

“No and I certainly don't need reminding, brushes with death make one appreciate life in ways difficult to explain.”

“Like make you wish you made the most of your opportunities in life? In love?”

“Yes.”

“And what is love Henry?”

“I wish I knew.”

“I think you may know already, but that isn't for me to decide. Master Robin, your turn.”

Master Robin was the shortest of the figures around the table, with a pot belly that rested on the lip of the table. His most obvious feature was a full orange beard which he stroked slowly, as if petting a cat.

“The hybrids that share my power Henry are the R’hard and the Dragos. What am I the master of?” Robin said.

“Corpus or the Physicalists,” Henry said, not letting a breath pass. “The power enables you to be stronger, faster, more resilient, or adept in some physical way when compared to ordinary humans. Your power manipulates body composition, which you can trigger as and when needed. R’hard also have access to the force power, which they use only in terms of manipulating their physical abilities and they are renowned for their temper. They do not feel fear. The Dragos, we have already covered.”

“Quick and not too bad for a human upbringing. What is a charm?”

“A charm is an ability of the magus, that sits beyond the powers. There are five, naturally. These are, Changer, the ability to change your power; Diviner, the ability to manipulate your powers to reveal snippets of the past and future; Second Sight, the ability to detect other alternates; then there is the ability to instil magus in objects and lastly, the ability to transfer it into living creatures.”

“Can you demonstrate any for me?”

Demonstrate? Henry might be good at reading up on theory, but as this morning had proved, practical skills were not his forte.

Henry scanned across the room making eye contact with each member of the table. “Out of the thirteen members of the council, I detect two mentalists, two forcefuls, one vitalist and one potential. There is also one R’hard and, if I am not mistaken, a Vampiris. The others must be Inquisitors as I cannot detect anything in them.”

Robin smiled, “That will do nicely.”

“Lastly, Master Oberon,” Wade said.

“Why the hell are you so useless Henry Fellows?” Oberon said. He was a broad man whose gown seemed to billow around him as he leant forward intently, his voice deep and booming.

“I beg your pardon.”

“I have been watching you and you should be ashamed at your lack of ability.”

“I-”

“There is no excuse, you are wasting our time.”

“I didn’t choose-”

“And believe me, neither did we. Why can you not grasp the most simple of concepts, why are you here?”

“Because Master Oberon, Doyen of Vis, I am an Inquisitor
by blood
. Do you have any questions for me, or are you just going to shout?”

“You know you are most likely to die, don’t you?”

“Guess we will see, although that really isn’t a very good question. I do have one for all of you though,” Henry said.

“A question for us? This is not an open discussion,” Oberon said.

“Do I look as if I care? What I want to know is who murdered my father and why you all trying to keep it a secret?”

“Be careful what accusations you make,
boy
,” Oberon said.

His voice echoed in Henry’s chest, the weight of it making him feel as if he were back in school.

“Mark was killed by Grendal, who you all claim to be just some crazed serial killer, but if there is one thing I know since being introduced to this world, is that everything you lot say is a lie. Did my father find out something about one of you that made him too dangerous to live?”

“Maybe you should look at the evidence first Henry, before you make accusations you cannot support. I can appreciate your anger, but this is not the place to vent it,” Ione said.

“I agree,” Robin said. “Let us strike this outburst from record and carry on. I believe you have passed all of our tests, unless you have something to add Oberon?”

Oberon did not speak, continuing to stare at Henry, unblinking.

“Henry Fellows, I fear you are likely to cause this council more trouble that you are worth,” Wade said. “That said, you have passed these tests, tonight is the last gateway before your admittance to this order. You will accompany Tristan on his patrol and he will deliver your assessment, do you understand?”

“I... understand,” Henry said reluctantly.

The rest of the proceedings went fairly quickly, Henry had to repeat an oath of allegiance to the Inquisition and then they were done. Meyer and Wade stood talking after the other Doyens had left, although no sound passed through the entrance to the council chamber, as Henry waited outside.

A hand grasped Henry’s shoulder and spinning around, he was met by a tall man in his early twenties, with a rugby players build.

“You must be Henry. My name is Jonathan, I am apprentice to Master Oberon. You have put him in quite a mood,” Jonathan said with a thick Welsh accent, the inflection of his voice rising on the last word.

“Is he always so-”

“Calm? Yes, but he’s incredibly skilled and if you are looking for someone you can trust is doing the right thing, he's your man. You can’t trust everyone here you know.”

“It’s dawning on me.”

“Be careful. From what I’ve heard, you don't need any more enemies than you already have. I'm investigating Mark's death by the way, I'm sorry to say, we've found out very little.”

“Little you can share you mean? Wade wants me kept in the dark.”

“I mean we've found
nothing
. Look, I share your distrust of Wade, but you need to keep him on side, he’s... powerful. Anyway, I have to go. Good luck tonight Henry, just remember, don’t let Tristan push you into anything. He’s a good’n, but appears to have picked up Oberon’s temper. Swear the guy would have been R’hard if he wasn’t an Ink. And please, if you need anything, just give me a shout.”

“Actually, there is one thing that I hoped you could tell me about. Why is Meyer no longer on the council?”

“Hasn’t he told you?”

“I didn’t want to ask him.”

“It’s common knowledge around here. Meyer’s son was an Inquisitor, the blood line from his mother. He went off the rails after Meyer’s wife died and, apparently, in his rage he killed a doyen called Margaret. Wade had him executed. Meyer tried to stop him and fought publicly with Wade, but Xander was hung. Now this bit is off the record, but is what everyone says happened, so I’ll tell you what I was told. That moment, when the floor dropped and the snapping noise filled the chamber, Wade
laughed
. Meyer then knocked out a few of Wade’s teeth and had to be dragged off him by Ruth.”

“By god, I-”

“Xander wasn't responsible. It turned out that a rogue Inquisitor was to blame and had framed Meyer’s son, but that couldn't reverse what had happened. His wife and son were dead, he was alone. For what he had done to Wade, he was struck from the council and then, as you cannot simply leave the Inquisition, he was sent to work for Helena as...
penance
. As you can imagine, Wade and him have not been on the best of terms since.”

“Why could he not leave?”

“Because if you leave the Inquisition, you are executed. We hold too many secrets to be allowed to roam free, the only escape is death.”

To say that dinner was tense would have been an understatement. Gabriel was muted, offering a half smile on the one occasion he caught Henry’s eye, all the while nobody discussed what had happened in the council chamber.

After a whiskey from Meyer for good luck, Tristan, Gabriel and Henry walked to Holborn station, taking the underground to Camden Town. As they left the station, Henry watched Tristan as he moved through the crowds. Every step he took was measured, scanning his surroundings, ready to react to whatever was thrown his way. He was like a panther amongst deer, generating a subliminal tension in everyone he passed.

“You should try go and talk to Tristan, not hang around with me just gorping at him.” Gabriel said. “I’m stuck with you until one of us dies, Tristan is only here for the training period. Who knows, maybe if you warm up to him, there’s a better chance he’ll give you a pass.”

“And how do I
warm
up to him?”

“Oh yeah, forgot who I was talking to. Don’t smile, it’s creepy when you do that. Ask questions, seem interested, and be nice.”

“I am nice.”

“Henry, nice isn’t exactly the word people would choose to describe you, is it?”

“Why?”

“You’re rude, push people away and snub advances from people who try to be friendly to you. Now
I know
-”

“-I’m a poor excuse for a human being.”

“Hey, I didn’t quite say that. Put on an act, just for tonight. Be nice.”

Henry begrudgingly caught up with Tristan.

“So, I thought I would-”

“Shut up,” Tristan said.

The instant chemistry between the two of them was unmistakable. Great idea Gabriel.

“I just-”

“Shut up,” Tristan repeated.

Well, damn him then. Henry continued in silence, wishing he had replied with some witty remark or, at the very least, grunted in some manly fashion. He hadn’t however and as Henry knew, conversation starters were not something that came naturally to him.

Camden market was enclosed mostly, housed within the converted stables, echoes of the past purpose of the place spilling out of new facades. The smell of a dozen cuisines filled the air, market sellers trying to grab your attention with every turn, the echoes of bargaining reverberating along the cobbled streets. In a lot of ways, it reminded Henry of what he had seen in the under-city, Camden market desperately trying to emanate an aura of magic and mystique that the under-city tried so hard to disguise.

Tristan took them along a row of stalls that were hidden deep within the depths of the stables, stopping in front of a teenager with long greasy hair who was selling tea to a gullible tourist.

“Goo-good evening Tri-Tristan,” the teen stuttered.

“We just need passage Luke,” Tristan said.

“Of course, of course,” Luke said. “Would you like some tea?”

Tristan shot Luke a look and he flinched in reaction.

“Just the door it is then.”

Leaving his tourist examining some large glass pots of tea leaves at the side of the shop, Luke pulled back a tattered curtain, gesturing for them to go through. Tristan shoved him to the side, roughing the boy’s hair as he lead the way into a long damp alleyway, Gabriel and Henry struggling to keep up with him.

As Henry entered the alleyway, Henry was yanked back as someone grabbed his shoulder tightly. “Don’t trust anyone Henry, you hear me?” Luke said.

“How do you know who I am? If you know something, you’ve got to tell me,” Henry said.

Henry looked down the alleyway. Gabriel and Tristan were going through without him.

“Someone in the Inquisition is not who they say they are, I can’t say anymore. In fact, I’ve already said too much,” Luke said.

With that, Luke shoved Henry hard down the alleyway. Stumbling, but managing to keep his feet, Henry was momentarily distracted by the push against his thoughts from the distraction field protecting the under-city, before staggering out into the under-city.

“You took your time getting through. Everything okay?” Gabriel said, waiting for him as he exited the stall.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” Henry said, his instinctive reaction to lie. “He was just trying to sell me some tea.”

“That scrawny kid makes a fortune from that God awful stuff. I hope you didn’t buy any.”

Henry laughed and rejoined the group. He wanted to ask Gabriel what Luke had meant, but with Tristan in earshot, that perhaps wasn’t the best idea.

The under-city was as remarkable as Henry remembered, but of course as with everything that real magic touched, it wasn’t exactly Harry Potter. The place had a level of grime and chaos to it which made Henry constantly feel uneasy. If nothing else, walking through the under-city was an education, a chance to catch up on his alternate power type studies. He had ten of them to try and learn and, after the first forty minutes of walking, he had spotted two of the hybrid types and all of the first order powers, some even in action.

“What is this place?” Henry said, as they entered a street even more derelict than the others.

“Underground gambling, prostitution, drug dens and, further along, the abandoned part of the under-city. Keep your wits about you,” Tristan said.

“How did it get like this?”

“Not enough Inquisition intervention, the gangs know they can roam free here.”

“Are there not enough Inquisitors?”

“No, hence why it is important you get trained up quickly.”

“Thanks for
another
reminder.”

“Always here to help,” Tristan said, a sarcastic smile tugging at his lips.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but I’m not sure I can do this.”

“What?”

“I’m failing at everything, I just don’t get it.”

“I’m being hard on you to try and spur you on, not demotivate you. From what I’ve seen, you are a fighter, if someone says you can’t do something, that’s when you pull through. Look, try not to panic, you are coping just fine.”

“Fine? How do you figure that?”

“You are struggling with the physical training and aren't great at controlling your power, but you have instinct. Some Inquisitors struggle with a skill I don't think you consider: your charms. You can detect alternates and then trigger magus equipment, all without having to think about it. I'm not going to tell you how, because then you’ll think about it and, as we know, that means you won't be able to do it. You have also taken in a wealth of information in a very short time. You are doing okay, especially for someone not brought up in our world. You made quite the impression in the council chamber.”

“Not sure it was a good one.”

“No, but it's always good to be remembered. Henry, tonight I am going to ask you to do something and you
must
do it, do you understand? Now you must leave me, I need to prepare.”

What did he mean by that? Falling back to walk with Gabriel, Henry felt inside his jacket, brushing his fingers along the cold surface of the weapons. He hadn't even thought about the charms, maybe he wasn't completely useless after all.

In the distance, the sound of gunfire, explosions and men shouting, echoed off the buildings. It was a few more minutes of walking before they found the source.

They came to what appeared to be an abandoned factory, rusted red metal gates blocked the entrance. The windows were boarded up, nails driven into the old brickwork which crumbled away irrevocably. A group of men with blue uniforms, who Henry remembered from the inverted triangular building that had been attacked the night he had gained his abilities, were firing at the building from across the street.

“Try to stay near me and don’t die, it doesn’t give your sponsor the best reputation,” Tristan said.

“What's happening?”

“This is a Deliverance stronghold and
we
need to breach it. The men around us are from the government, we are supporting them under the new agreement.”

Gunfire pebbled the thick wall Henry, Gabriel and Tristan hid behind, as flashes of blue light pulsed from the government men’s weapons, creating scorch marks across the walls of the factory.

“I am going to use the Vis power to clear the doorway. I will just rotate my power and reach out, feeling the pull of gravity surging through me and push that force towards the door. First, I'm going to use life magus to work out how many are inside.”

Tristan closed his fist and his eyes flashed emerald green for a moment, a mist surrounding his closed fingers.

“There are around twenty of them, two dead already. We need to get them to stop firing for a moment before we can get this party started,” Tristan said.

He took a large spherical object, with strips of a darker metal etched into its surface, from his jacket and rested it in his palm.

“This is a sonic grenade. I’ll trigger it, then we storm the building. Just remember-”

“Don’t die?” Henry said.

Tristan smiled and threw the grenade over the blockade. It exploded, a sonic boom instantly shattering all the glass in the vicinity. Tristan was up and over the blockade before Henry knew it, charging at the door. Gabriel grabbed Henry’s arm and shoved him forward, they needed to stay close. Tristan raised his hand as he reached the front of the factory and the doors flew apart like cardboard discarded by the wind.

Inside, the building consisted of a series of red iron support beams for the floors above, repeated every five meters or so. Partition walls had been erected between them, attempting to bring structure to the place, but decay had taken its toll. Large pieces had flaked away revealing the rooms beyond, not helped by massive areas of bullet impacts that had tattered the aged material to nothing.

Tristan shot repeatedly, taking down men before Henry had even noticed where they stood. It was all a flash of firing through the dust, as bullets ripped through the old structure. They moved down the centre of the building, a narrow walkway that led to a set of spiral stairs. Henry looked behind him to see the government men storm in, shots ringing out from their weapons, clearing the targets who had somehow escaped Tristan.

Three men came out from the side of the corridor, guns firing, forcing Henry and Gabriel to dive for cover. Tristan however, had not moved. He held up his hand to the bullets, which seemed to loose their momentum as they reached him, falling to the floor with little clinks.

“Henry. Using Navitas, I am creating a field that reduces the energy of the bullets. They cannot reach me with any sort of lethal speed,” Tristan said.

He fired his gun three times and the men fell to the floor. In all the chaos, Henry hadn’t even been noticing what types of alternate they were, but Tristan’s technique seemed simple enough: shoot anything that moves.

“We use a plasma charge that can knock out a human up to about 150 kilograms. It tags them and then the Inquisition sends people to pick them up. Shall we carry on? I don’t want him escaping. Henry, you’re with me,” Tristan said.

Him
? Were they chasing someone particular? Tristan hadn't mentioned that. Henry sprinted across to him, gripping his gun as he tried to get into a mind-set where he could actually fire it. He had left his headphones behind, so any form of combat was really out of the question. Although if he had brought them, Tristan would have probably marked it as cheating. A man came out of an entrance, his pistol pointing straight at Henry. In a flash, Tristan tackled him, knocking the man’s weapon out of his hand just as he summoned a surge of electricity that sent Tristan flying through a window in a shatter of glass.

The man turned to Henry and, judging by the yellow tinge he saw in the man’s eyes, this was an energy alternate. Henry fired his gun towards the man, but realised he had inadvertently closed his eyes. When he opened them again, three burn marks scored the wall to the left of the man, who stood smiling at Henry. Note to self, don’t close your eyes while firing.

There was a sound like a strong gale as the energy alternate was suddenly pulled through the window Tristan had just been catapulted through. There was a thud and then silence, Henry carefully approaching the opening to see what had happened.

“Henry, come here,” Tristan called out.

Henry did as he was told, hopping over the window frame and following Tristan as he pushed the man against the wall.

“Interrogate him,” Tristan said.

Interrogate him? How the hell did you do that? Tristan must have seen Henry’s hesitation as he moved his grip to the man’s throat and ordered Henry to take over. Henry wrapped his fingers around the man’s neck, his rat like features squirming in Henry’s hold. It was taking all of Henry’s strength to hold him in place, but he was sure the real deterrent was the gun Tristan was pointing at him.

“Can you get on with it?” Tristan said.

Henry looked back at the man, who was a little bemused at the situation. He was still wiggling and Henry was sure that at any moment he would break free and all hell would break lose.

“Where is your boss?”

“I’m not telling you anything, scum!” the rat like man said.

Tristan gave Henry a look, which he took as encouragement to be a little more violent. Henry released his grip slightly, so the man’s head moved partially away from the wall, before slamming it back into it.

“I’m not going to ask again,” Henry said.

“And I’m not going to tell you.”

Henry had never really done intimidating, which he now discovered was quite an issue. The guy wasn’t going to talk and Tristan was looking less impressed by the second.

“I’m telling you, you’ll be-”

“What? What are you gonna do to me kid?”

Henry needed to think of something fast. He wasn’t quite sure why he did what he did, maybe he had seen in a film, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Momentarily loosening his grip on the man’s throat again, Henry forced his body weight through his elbow. There was a cracking sound, as elbow and nose connected, followed by a cry of pain.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you that hard, I mean-” Henry started to say, before Tristan pushed him aside.

Tristan gripped the man’s throat tightly and using his considerable strength, raised him from the floor, before punching the man in the face repeatedly.