Thaumatology 09 - Dragonfall

by Teasdale, Niall

  ‘This would take… five or six hundred degrees to put the glass into transition,’ she said.

  ‘And there’s none on the outside,’ Lily said. ‘Something outside burned through the glass.’

  Ceri nodded. ‘No explosion.’ She looked back toward the detectives waiting behind them. ‘Was there any sign of a fire-fight? These people were supposed to have guns.’

  ‘No,’ Barry replied. ‘We found guns. None near the bodies.’

  Michael emerged from the house, shaking soot out of his fur and growling his disgust. Ceri looked at him as he changed. ‘Someone hit the place with a flamethrower?’

  ‘No scent of anything like petrol,’ Michael said. ‘Burned flesh and wood, chemicals from the foam in the sofa. No evidence of a flamethrower.’

  ‘Fire, but no fuel,’ Ceri said, ‘and no magic.’ She turned, looking around. ‘And what’s this?’

  ‘I noticed that,’ Michael said. ‘The ground’s torn up. Maybe a heavy tracked vehicle, but it doesn’t quite look right.’

  Lily was frowning; Ceri felt the confusion over their bond and looked back at her. ‘There was something there,’ Lily said. ‘There’s a tiny residue, very faint. I can’t tell what it was.’

  Ceri stared at the ground. Something had ripped up the surface, but there was a tiny hint of scattered magic. Traces of sand with flickers of thaumiton emissions. ‘A really intense magic field. Something was there, maybe for a short time, giving off a lot of magic.’

  ‘But not using it to burn the house,’ Lily added. ‘There would be thaumic residue on the ruin we could sense.’

  ‘A demon?’ Michael suggested. ‘A really big one? Some of them use fire, right?’

  ‘A lord,’ Ceri said. ‘Maybe. I’m not sure. A demon lord could explain the residue, I guess.’

  ‘The question then,’ Barry mused, ‘is why did a demon lord come here to roast a bunch of terrorists?’

  ‘If it was a demon,’ Lily replied. She was still frowning as they got back in the cars to leave.

  Interlude: Mayhew

  Millbank, London, July 16th, 2012

  Jennifer Mayhew sat at her computer, her fingers dancing over the keys as she typed out her report.

  The police report indicates that they are following up suggestions that the Scientists were killed by a demon lord. Brent and Carpenter were able to detect minute residue of a strong magic field having existed just outside the farmhouse for a brief period of time. Further analysis of soil taken from the site suggests that they are correct. The sand crystals were exposed to a field of around 30 thaums for a period of between 2 and 5 minutes.

  She rested back in her chair and stretched. Something in her back made an alarming popping noise. She had spent the last four days cleaning up after the conference. Everyone wanted reports; her bosses, the US embassy, their Secret Service and FBI. The one going to the Americans had to be sanitised and checked prior to release. And then there were her private notes; the ones only she and Sachs would see. Sachs might decide to pass some of them on to others, but perhaps not yet. She leaned forward again.

  The demon lord hypothesis holds some merit. Certainly it cannot be disproved and there has been evidence that a demon lord has an interest in Brent. The problem with it is that demon lords are not, generally, able to cross over without help and the diviners at Greycoat Street often detect their entry, even if not a specific location for that entry. No such event has happened recently. There may be a different entity involved. That entity may have been dispatched by the demon.

  She looked out of the office window into the dark. Wrapping this report and getting home seemed like a really good idea.

  The reason for this demonic interest is, I believe, the one our analysts have suggested. My own observation of Brent suggests too much power for someone who has developed magical talent relatively recently. She is immune to extreme levels of thaumic energy. She uncovered the dragon skull at Stonehenge, and has a remarkable ability to manipulate thaumic energy, as evidenced by her defeat of Remus. It is my strong belief that she is a sorceress. My recommendation is that she be questioned directly; by detention if necessary.

  She closed the file and marked it for Sachs’ attention, and then began the lengthy process of checking herself out of Thames House.

  Half way along Millbank, walking toward Westminster tube station, she stopped, looking around. She was almost to the Houses of Parliament and Victoria Tower Gardens was on her right, and something felt wrong. She was no field agent, but it felt as though she was being watched. Her eyes narrowed. Was there something there, among the trees?

  A sudden shudder of fear ran up her spine and she turned to run back the way she had come. Something, a figure, tall and dark, filled her vision, and she let out a gasp. Strong hands gripped her arms, another hand closed over her mouth. Her vision went dark…

  Part Three: Lines of Power

  Mayfair, London, August 7th, 2012

  Ceri walked into the club and waited while Lily and Cheryl followed her in. Cheryl’s visit to Demi-monde had been delayed several times as both she and Ceri found themselves buried up to their ears in work. Enquiries regarding their research had poured into their mailboxes, both electronic and traditional, after the conference. The Ministry for Supernatural Affairs had requested detailed studies on the proposed generator at Battersea. Finally, after almost a month, they had decided that they very definitely deserved a break, especially since they could both see yet another pile of work waiting just over the horizon.

  The tall, distinguished man in the tuxedo who greeted them in the reception room did so with a smile. ‘Doctor Brent,’ Reynolds said, waving for one of the staff to come forward, ‘always a pleasure seeing you here. I see that you brought a guest.’

  Ceri handed her coat to the small brunette in the leather body harness which marked her out as staff and moved over to the reception desk to sign in. ‘Yes, that’s Cherry. She’ll be joining us for the evening. I called ahead, did…’ Another attendant, this one male and therefore in leather slacks and bare-chested, stepped forward to hand over a set of leather straps. Ceri smiled. ‘Always efficient. Thank you.’

  ‘Room forty-six has been set aside for you,’ Reynolds said, handing Ceri a key with a small, copper tag attached to it.

  Ceri took it and slipped it into one of her thigh boots. ‘Thank you, Reynolds. We’ll be having drinks first. Could you have two glasses of whiskey and a small glass of fae wine brought through?’ Aside from the boots, Ceri was dressed to impress. Lily had strapped her into a leather corset and she had on a black, silk thong which went nicely with the tooled leather.

  ‘Of course.’ Reynolds nodded to the attendant who had brought the straps and he gave a little bow before heading into the back rooms.

  Lily had handed her coat over to the maid and Ceri saw Cheryl swallow hard as she saw what Lily was not wearing. The half-succubus was naked apart from five-inch heels, a collar with an O-ring over her throat, and a triple chain suspended from rings through her nipples. She stood waiting, her hands behind her back, one foot placed slightly before the other, eyes downcast.

  ‘Come, Cherry,’ Ceri said. ‘Give the attendant your coat. There’s no need to keep us waiting.’ They had given Cheryl the choice of going along in whatever role she wished and she had elected to play the submissive. She had said that she was not really sure she could be a good dominatrix, but she did want to play a full part in the evening. Lily had spent a couple of hours instructing her in what to do, but Ceri wondered whether she was now having second thoughts.

  With another quick swallow of her nerves, Cheryl unbuttoned her coat, slipped it off her shoulders, and handed it over. Not having Lily’s absolute belief in her body, Cheryl was wearing more clothes. However, to give her credit, the quarter-cup waspie, little black thong, stockings and heels were not exactly concealing.

  Ceri held out the straps to Lily. ‘Put this on Cherry, pet. Then we’ll go through to the lounge.’

  Lily di
d as requested and the leather resolved itself into a collar which had a strap attached. This ran down Cheryl’s back where it was equipped with a pair of cuffs into which Cheryl’s forearms were fixed. Thus restrained, and with her back straight and her eyes wide, Cheryl followed Ceri and Lily through into the panelled lounge.

  It was early and there were few people about. Ceri found a chair near the back of the room where they could have a little privacy once the young man they had seen earlier had brought them their drinks. Ceri sat down in one of the big, leather chairs, Lily sitting on a cushion to one side of her legs and Cheryl carefully arranging herself on the other side.

  Ceri grinned. ‘Since this is Cherry’s birthday present, pet, I don’t want her to have to go to too much effort. You will be feeding her her wine.’

  ‘Yes, Mistress,’ Lily replied meekly.

  ‘I thought that a little fae wine would help with any lingering worries she might have.’

  ‘I’m sure it will, Mistress.’ Lily leaned across Ceri’s legs, picked up the wine glass, and placed it carefully against Cheryl’s lips. Cheryl took a large sip, then a second. A second later there was a flush starting in her cheeks. Fae wine had several effects, aside from making your taste buds sing; it never gave you a hangover, and it rapidly dissolved your inhibitions. Ceri picked up her own glass and sipped from it, letting the whiskey burn its way down her throat before speaking again. ‘What do you think so far, Cherry?’

  ‘This place is amazing,’ Cheryl replied, keeping her voice soft. ‘I didn’t expect it to be so… elegant. It’s like some sort of gentleman’s club.’

  ‘A gentleman’s club with naked people,’ Ceri agreed. ‘I don’t mind admitting that we couldn’t afford this place if Carter hadn’t gifted us a lifetime membership.’

  Lily fed Cheryl some more wine; the flush on her cheeks started down her throat. ‘What happens next… Mistress?’ Cheryl asked.

  ‘You wanted to be the submissive. Once we’ve had our celebratory drinks we’ll go down to the dungeon and I’ll put my latest slave on display for a while. I think I can keep you amused down there for an hour or so. Then we’ll go upstairs… You’ll love the library, and then we’ll go to our room and I’ll let Lily loose on you for a while. Then we can relax in the baths before we leave. You’ll need to relax.’

  Cheryl swallowed again. ‘Put me on display…’ Her voice was breathy. ‘Like I’m not on display already.’

  Ceri’s lips curled into a knowing smile. ‘Oh, but Cherry, we’ve hardly started.’

  ~~~

  The private rooms at Demi-monde came equipment with various useful features, the most flexible of which were the beds. They had attachment points liberally scattered over the four-posted frames allowing for any number of imaginative arrangements, but Lily had settled for a simple spread-eagle which left Cheryl quite securely immobilised and accessible.

  Ceri sat in a large, comfortable armchair as her pet set to work on her boss, quite happy to just watch. Her pets were entertaining their Mistress, as was proper.

  The thought floated through her head and she frowned. Her pets? The phrase had come to her without a second’s thought and yet now she was thinking about it and it jarred. Cheryl was not “her pet.” She might be playing at it for an evening, but Ceri had no right to think of her that way. If Cheryl belonged to anyone it was Carter, maybe Carter and Alec, but really neither of them. Cheryl belonged to herself. Hell, Lily belonged to herself no matter how much she tried to give herself to Ceri! Ceri accepted her friend’s need to belong; it was part of her nature. Ceri was a sorceress, a powerful mage with power which seemed to be growing. Lily was half succubus and they actually wanted to give themselves over to a power greater than their own. Cheryl was an intelligent, independent, human woman and no one’s property.

  But she gave herself to me, of her own volition.

  Ceri’s frown deepened and she sank a little into her chair. She focussed on enjoying the show; Lily was, at least partially, doing this to entertain her Mistress, that was true. Well, if she enjoyed it maybe her brain would shut the fuck up!

  ~~~

  The baths in Demi-monde’s cellars were split into two main sections, quiet and not. Ceri lay in the water in the quiet pool, allowing the heat to wash away cares and worries along with various smears of bodily fluids she had collected over the evening.

  Cheryl had lowered herself into the water a little gingerly and sighed while wearing a blissful expression once she was in. Now she was looking a lot more relaxed, balanced on one of the benches with her arms resting on the edges of the pool and her large breasts floating in front of her.

  ‘A little sore, Cherry?’ Ceri asked.

  ‘Mostly my muscles, Mistress.’ She was getting used to that form of address; Ceri wondered whether she would remember to stop. And that would be a bad thing? ‘I’ll be sore in the morning.’ She gave a tiny giggle, not wishing to make too much noise. ‘Walking back home may be hard.’

  ‘We can stay the night,’ Ceri suggested before her mind had caught up with what she was saying. And then she kept going because she had made the suggestion. ‘After two am the club goes into night time mode, there’s minimal staff and the cellars and public rooms are closed, but members can stay in an assigned room if they wish.’ She felt a burst of enthusiasm for the idea from Lily, and she could tell Cheryl was considering it.

  ‘All night… I’d be really sore in the morning… Yes please, Mistress. I’d love to.’

  Ceri smiled, closing her eyes and basking in the heat, and ignoring the little voice in her head saying, All as it should be.

  Holloway, August 8th

  ‘The basic concept is to add some extra runes to the terminal focus pole in Battersea,’ Ceri said. She was sitting alongside Cheryl so that she could point various things out on her boss’ monitor as she spoke. ‘They’ll redirect the tunnel’s output into a vertical arrangement. Essentially producing a polar aligned field which the transducer array will trap and convert.’

  Cheryl looked at the array of glyphs on her screen and shook her head. ‘I’ll need to go over this carefully to understand it. The original ley line mechanics were hard enough.’

  ‘Oh this is easier. It sticks to three dimensions for one thing. It’s practically conventional thaumatology, just… a novel energy manipulation.’

  ‘How did you come up with it?’

  ‘From Ed, indirectly. One of the big practical lessons he’s been teaching me is thaumic energy manipulation. Apparently it’s something sorcerers should be able to do, and normal practitioners can’t. This is, basically, a translation of his lessons into the form of an enchantment.’

  ‘Huh.’ Cheryl peered at the screen again, trying to wrap her head around the symbology. She felt like understanding was right on the edge of her mind, waiting to drop in, but… ‘No, I’m going to have to sit down with a notepad and work through it. My mind’s not in it this morning.’

  Ceri blinked. ‘That’s not like you. What’s wrong?’

  Cheryl laughed. ‘I’m a little distracted.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We came straight from Demi-monde. I’m wearing a coat and a pair of high heels.’

  ‘So? I’m wearing a coat and thigh boots.’

  ‘And that’s not helping either!’

  ‘I guess I’m just used to it. You should go home. Work there. Now that I’ve given you this I’m going to go home. The weather’s improved, I’m going to lie on the roof with my tablet and work on that circular tunnel concept.’

  Cheryl nodded. ‘That does sound like a plan.’ She locked her computer and turned the screen off, getting ready to go.

  ‘Aside from the distraction,’ Ceri asked, ‘you did enjoy it?’

  ‘Oh yes, Mistress.’ Cheryl stopped, half way out of her seat, and bit her lip. ‘I did enjoy it, yes, Ceri.’

  Ceri giggled. ‘It’ll wear off eventually.’

  Kennington, August 10th

  Ceri was a little surprised to find
Avery Sachs standing on her doorstep. He did not seem terribly surprised to see Ceri dressed in a pleated micro-skirt and string-strapped swimsuit top.

  ‘You just caught us,’ Ceri said because she felt some explanation was required. ‘Friday afternoon is pole dancing.’

  Sachs’ face remained passive. ‘Pole dancing? I understand it’s good exercise.’

  ‘It is. You wanted to talk about something?’

  ‘Make a request.’

  Ceri raised an eyebrow, but stepped aside to allow him into the house. ‘Dancing postponed, Lil,’ she said as she followed him into the hall.

  Lily, standing at the bottom of the stairs dressed in a cropped T-shirt which barely covered her breasts and a pair of tiny hot-pants, pouted. Sachs had to be one of the few men Ceri had ever met who could stand up to that pout; he did not even flinch. Then again, he looked like he had not slept well recently. He looked like someone with a purpose.

  Lily gave up on the pout, her brow knitting slightly instead. ‘What’s happened, Mister Sachs?’

  ‘You remember Jennifer Mayhew?’ Sachs replied.

  ‘Of course,’ Ceri said. ‘I was a little surprised she hadn’t followed up with some sort of debrief.’

  ‘She went missing on the evening of July sixteenth.’

  ‘You’d better come up to the lounge,’ Ceri said.

  ‘She was recorded leaving Thames House at ten-fifteen,’ Sachs explained once they were sat down. ‘She had been working on the reports being sent out regarding the Scientists. She checked out. Security cameras show her leaving the building and heading north. She used to catch the tube at Westminster, the Jubilee Line. She lived out near Swiss Cottage. She filed two of the three reports I was expecting. Those were sent for approval at about seven pm, so I believe the rest of her time was spent on the third report. That’s vanished off our computer systems along with all her personal files.’