Blood & Magic

by George Barlow

  Henry read in vain however, for he was out of the Inquisition. The rules of the assessment were simple: obey Tristan, and he had failed to do that. He had refused to kill a man and, although that decision made his future now more uncertain than ever, he did not regret his choice. After Tristan had left Gabriel and Henry in the warehouse, the body of the man who had been their target laying limp on the floor, Henry found himself unable to leave. Staring at the unblinking eyes of the old man, the fear still etched across his face, had planted Henry’s feet steadfast. It took Gabriel multiple attempts to dislodge him and when he woke up the following morning, Henry found had no recollection of the events after the factory.

  Henry took a seat at his bench in his lab and looked at his rather large to-do list. Today, work needed to consume every part of his concentration. By midmorning, he was back in the swing of things, having redone the Kleihauer’s for the consultant that he had messed up nights before and caught up on his send-away tests. The laboratory was quiet, only the gentle hum of equipment broke the silence. Up to speed with work and despite there being no point in doing so, Henry took the opportunity to do a little practice of his magus abilities. He held his arm across the bench and swiped the display so it changed to magus detection mode. The blue light shone through. Focus Henry, focus on moving the dial. Henry opened his eyes to check his progress, but it hadn’t worked.

  Henry lunched alone, taking the opportunity to read. There was so much to get through, although going over the material felt strangely repetitive, as if he had already read it all. It was a bit like watching a film again that you haven’t seen in years, you remember parts of it, but can’t quite remember how it ends. His peace was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone:

  Dixie wants to go for a drink at the pub after work. If you ever want to make peace, I’d suggest turning up.

  Elle Xx

  At half past five, Henry wandered down to the local pub as instructed and found Elle sitting at a small round table in the corner of the room.

  “Where’s Dixie?” Henry said.

  “Getting some drinks,” Elle said.

  “Ah… okay. Erm… Weather isn’t too cheerful is it?”

  Weather talk? Really? That was only supposed to be a backup conversation and that’s what he opened with?

  “Not too pleasant, I guess,” Elle said.

  Come on Henry, think of something better. Anything.

  “How has your day been?”

  Admittedly not an original or interesting conversation starter, but far better than the weather.

  “Oh, you know, same old,” Elle said.

  “I’m sorry if I upset you the other day,” Henry said.

  “When you said I had terrible taste in men? Or when you said I had slept with Matt because I was drunk?”

  “Well, both I guess.”

  “It wasn’t those things that upset me.”

  “Oh, so it wasn’t me?”

  “No, it was you. You said I needed to work out what I wanted, thing is Henry, I don’t know. Who are you to presume I do?”

  “How can you not know? Everyone knows what they really want.”

  “Do they?”

  “Yes, they just don’t know if it’s a good idea to have it or not.”

  “Oh really, so what is it you really want then?”

  Henry felt himself blush at the question. He knew the answer straight away, but it certainly wasn’t one he could tell her.

  “I suppose, it is the same as everyone else,” Henry said.

  “And what is that?”

  “To love and be loved, although that is a soppy answer. I don’t know, maybe to be successful in my job, make a real difference somehow.”

  “I think you are right, everyone wants that.”

  “To make a difference?”

  “You know I didn’t mean that.”

  “Well, you’ve already got what you want then! You have Tom, so you just need to get married and everything will be perfect.”

  “I can’t see that happening. Anyway, we are talking about you. Why haven’t you found love then?”

  Where to start? The truth was that fear ruled his life, even if he tried to deny it. He imagined very few people could actually understand how every person he saw was ready to judge him, at least in his mind. How he actually cared what other people thought to such a painful extent, that he found himself losing sleep recounting all of the day’s interactions and generating all the reasons they might think him stupid or inferior and then build up the dread of further social encounters. The odd way that he found having fun more stressful than working. When you worked, people focused on the work and that was fine. When people had fun or socialised that focus was lost. People expected you to relax, feel at some kind of ease taking part, be excited. These things were impossible to Henry and the effort of pretending caused so much anxiety and stress, that now he actively avoided them. His friendship with Elle and Dixie wasn’t something he could explain, but it was the exception to the rule. What made things worse, was the anger he felt at himself, for how stupid all his thoughts were, how he couldn’t beat them. He knew they were all misguided and he had a million techniques to combat them, but nothing worked. So he lived life not in control of what he did and he hated it. It was unfair to expect anyone to love him, he wouldn’t ever ask for it.

  Henry looked up and realised only a second had passed. Maybe he should just learn to be less efficient at over-analysing everything.

  “Why haven’t I found love? Because I’m not looking,” Henry said.

  “Why?”

  “Not something I want in my life at the moment, I don’t need someone to make me feel complete or-”

  “Anything soppy like that. No, you are better than the rest of us, aren’t you? You don’t need someone to make you feel happy. Look at me, I’m perfect, I’m Henry Fellows.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t need to.”

  “Why have we started arguing?”

  “I don’t know Henry, I argue with you more than anyone else I’ve ever met. Just imagine if we were in a relationship, it would be disastrous.”

  “We’d be terrible,” Henry said.

  Elle laughed and leant into Henry’s shoulder, wrapping her arm around him as she squeezed his hand in her own. Henry tried not to flinch as she sidled up to him, snuggling her head onto his shoulder, but human affection was a million stresses in itself.

  “So, how are you feeling?” Dixie said, appearing with three glasses of wine balanced between his fingers.

  “Fine,” Henry said. “Elle, what were you saying?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Elle said.

  “But what about the arrhythmia?” Dixie said.

  Damn, he should probably be carrying on that charade. “Still looking to get it under control, but I’m fine. You know, drugs and stuff keep a lid on it.”

  “What happened that night? You just disappeared,” Elle said.

  “Yeah man, after Elle told me I checked the A&E board, but you weren’t there,” Dixie said.

  “Ah, yes, erm…” Henry needed to think of a good explanation and quick. “I didn’t know what was happening and was a little embarrassed about fainting in the lab, really sorry Elle about being short with you.”

  “I was just worried. Where did you go?” Elle said.

  “Nowhere,” Henry said.

  “Nowhere?” Dixie said.

  “Oh, no, erm… Hospital, I went to Hospital,” Henry said.

  “Which hospital?” Elle said.

  “Erm…” Think Henry, think of something for God’s sake and stop saying ‘erm’ all the time. “London Bridge.” That was the closest to Bart’s, he was sure of it.

  “Why didn’t you just stay here? London Bridge is a fair distance, you could have had a heart attack,” Elle said.

  Good question. Now all he needed was an answer to it. Think Henry, there had to be a good reason.

  “As I said, I was embarrassed. I went
for a walk to clear my head, then realised something was wrong, so went to A&E.”

  That was kind of a half-truth, he had been embarrassed as hell.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Dixie said.

  “Or me?” Elle said.

  “Again, just a bit embarrassed,” Henry said.

  “You are an odd one Henry,” Elle said.

  “You can say that again,” Dixie said.

  “That isn’t news to either of you, surely?” Henry said.

  “No, we’ve known you long enough to understand human principles of emotion and social normality don’t apply to you,” Elle said with a smile.

  “You could have answered our calls though, or text back. You know, like any decent human being would have done,” Dixie said.

  “I’m sorry, not sure what to say,” Henry said.

  “It’s a good excuse for getting out of the charity run,” Elle said.

  “Damn, didn’t think of that. You git,” Dixie said.

  “Oh, darn it,” Henry said sarcastically.

  “Bloody Mary was looking for you today,” Elle said.

  “Me? Oh, she just got upset about some stupid rumour, it’s nothing,” Dixie said. “How was your weekend with Tom?”

  “It was okay.”

  “Take it you didn’t tell him about your little adventure with Matt?”

  “No, and there is nothing in that.”

  “Then why did you do it?”

  “I don’t know, Tom is always away and we’d argued. Matt was really nice and I was-”

  “Drunk,” Henry said.

  “Yes, thanks Henry. I was a little drunk.”

  Henry and Dixie stared at her blankly.

  “Okay, a lot drunk. Ancient history now though, I’m not going there again,” Elle said.

  “Because everything is fabulous with Tom?” Dixie said.

  “No, in fact I think we came about this close,” Elle said, measuring an inch between two fingers, “to ending it all this weekend. He just never seems to put me first, I need to find someone who really cares for me, you know? Maybe I’m just being unreasonable.”

  “I don’t think so,” Henry said.

  “Yeah Henry, you are really one to give relationship advice,” Dixie said.

  Henry grunted and excused himself, taking the small metallic case from his bag, and made his way to the toilets.

  Inside he found a cubicle and, sitting on the toilet seat, tapped the wristband until it read his magus level. Forty-eight percent: too high. Henry opened the case and took the syringe, drawing up the black liquid until the 4 ml mark. Setting it on the lid of the toilet system behind him, Henry rolled up his sleeve and plunged the dark solution into his bloodstream. The magus level bars decreased almost instantly until the level hit 28 percent, the acid-like substance moving through his veins with an all too familiar pain. He was out of the Inquisition now, when the last of this solution was gone... well, that would be it.

  Before Henry’s thoughts could spiral into a world of fear and panic, he was interrupted by his phone ringing.

  “Hey Henry, what you up to?” Gabriel said.

  “Having a drink after work, what do you-”

  “We have a new body.”

  “A new body?”

  “Yes, you know, a dead one? Grendal has hit again.”

  “But I failed Tristan's test.”

  “Yes you did.”

  “And-”

  “You received a pardon.”

  “A pardon, what do you mean?”

  “I’ll explain in a minute. Make sure you are outside, I know where you are,” Gabriel said.

  The line went dead.

  Henry headed back into the pub with the closed syringe box in his hand. Across the room at the table, he noticed that he’d left his bag by his seat and Dixie and Elle had dutifully rifled through it in his absence. They had found one of the Grimoires. Henry reached out to snatch it from Dixie’s grasp, but he held it at arms length away from him.

  “What’s this?” Dixie said.

  “Just a book,” Henry said.

  “Yeah, but in what language?” Elle said.

  “It’s Latin and it doesn’t really matter,” Henry said.

  “That is certainly not Latin,” Elle said.

  “It’s my book for God’s sake.”

  “It looks like some dodgy pictogram language, you part of a cult or something?” Dixie said.

  “For God’s sake, give it here,” Henry said.

  Dixie, momentarily taken aback by the seriousness, lowered his arm and Henry grabbed the book.

  “And what is this?” Elle said holding the stunner in her hand.

  “Looks like a flare,” Dixie said.

  “No, it’s like an EpiPen, for my arrhythmia. Give it here,” Henry said.

  Elle passed it to him and he put it back in his bag.

  “I’ve got to go,” Henry said.

  “Come on man, we were only playing,” Dixie said.

  “It’s not that, I’ve got an appointment to get to. We’ll catch up another time, I promise,” Henry said.

  He left the pub and crossed the street towards Gabriel’s car. How was he there already? Turning back, Henry was glad to see that neither Elle nor Dixie had followed him out, he didn’t need to tell them any more lies.

  “You ok H-man?” Gabriel said.

  “I’m fine,” Henry said, getting in the passengers seat.

  “If you say so. If you need to talk about something, you let me know — okay?”

  “Will do.”

  “So with regards you failing the test. You failed it, nothing I could do about that.”

  “But you said there was a pardon?”

  “You appear to have made some friends on the council. Ione and Robin said that you being asked to execute someone without knowing why was unacceptable. They cited some magus law and you were given a pardon.”

  “It wasn't fair, what they asked me to do was-”

  “Life isn’t fair Henry. Get your head around that. Keeping the existence of magus a secret is part of magus law, you know that. Breaking those laws means death and, as an Inquisitor, your duty is to uphold the law.”

  “You didn’t warn me.”

  “I didn’t know. Just lucky you managed to charm some of them, but next time, do what you are told.”

  “I won’t kill.”

  “Then you will be killed and lose the protection the Inquisition not only provided you, but your friends and family. It’s your choice Henry.”

  “As easy as that,” Henry said, turning to look out the window.

  “Yes, as easy as that. If you care about anyone else but yourself, then you’ll do it. Anyway, that was the good news.”

  “What’s the bad news?”

  “To be allowed to stay in the Inquisition, all you have to do is catch Grendal.”

  - Chapter 36 -

  And another one

  “There are a couple of things you need to get a hold of before we get there,” Gabriel said. “If anyone asks for your name, don’t give it. If anyone asks why you are there, say that it is on government business. And most importantly, don’t look like a pansy when you see the body. Sure, it may be in a bit of a state, but you need to look like that doesn’t phase you.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that?” Henry said.

  “Don’t throw up and don’t cry or get emotional. I guess the latter isn’t too difficult for you.”

  “Don’t throw up, okay — got it.”

  Gabriel pulled the car up at the end of the street, which was blocked off by police tape. He showed some sort of identification to the policeman who guarded the entrance to the street and Henry followed closely at his heel as they walked into a tall block of flats. By the time they were waiting in the elevator, they had passed multiple detectives, policemen and people dressed in white overalls, all scurrying in and out of the building. It was quite apparent that escaping if they were discovered was not really an option. Gabriel and Henry
approached the door to the scene of the murder, which was blocked by a police constable, his white shirt gleaming beneath his stab-proof vest.

  “My name is Jones and this is my partner,” Gabriel said, showing him the same piece of identification he had the first constable.

  “Hang on a second please, Detective Inspector?” the PC called out into the flat.

  A blond woman approached them, about 5 foot 6 inches tall, with hazel eyes that luckily didn’t transform into anything when Henry's gaze met them. She was wearing a purple blouse which, although fitted loosely, made no efforts to conceal her slim athletic build. Her shoulders were square and proud, but not a frame developed by some sort of sport like rowing, her physique was graceful as if through ballet or finishing school. Maybe Henry was reading too much into her, but the residing truth was that she was beautiful.

  “Who are you two?”

  “As I just said to this constable, my name is Special Agent Jones and this is my partner. And you are?” Gabriel said, passing the ID to the inspector.

  “Detective Inspector Alex Stroud. Are the government trying to take over another one of my crime scenes?” Alex said.

  “Far from it, we are just here to have a look around and then we will be out of your hair,” Gabriel said.

  Alex turned her attention to Henry, scanning him up and down as if able to immediately know all of his secrets.

  “And do you have a name?” Alex said.

  Did he have a name? Of course he did, but he couldn’t use his, Gabriel had said that. That was rule number one, don’t give your name. Quick, think of another name.

  “Henry Fellows.”

  Gabriel flashed him a look. Damn.

  “I know,” Alex said.

  “Huh?” Henry said. “How could you-”

  “You were at the Two Gates Club a few nights back. The owner knows you.”