Thaumatology 06 - Hammer of Witches

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Thaumatology 06 - Hammer of Witches Page 6

by Teasdale, Niall


  ‘After the bombing?’ Bets suggested. ‘There’s tension. Everyone’s keeping their eyes on their bags, and other people’s. I know for a fact the back rooms here were swept before they opened. You can’t let bastards like that get in the way of your life though. They win if you do.’

  ‘Anyone got any ideas on who did it?’ Lily asked.

  Bets grimaced. ‘No one’s claimed it. The best guess right now is some lone nutcase, though I’m sceptical.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Too organised. Someone had to sneak a fairly large amount of fuel and explosives into that room. How do you do that solo?’

  ‘It’s possible,’ Ceri said. ‘Invisibility, insubstantiality, illusion. They can be done by a lone practitioner.’

  ‘We’ve always had a fairly good relationship with the supernatural community,’ Bets said. ‘Back in the sixties and seventies we were both facing off against people who hated our guts for being open about what we were. We’ve all grown up and become part of the normal world.’

  ‘When the radical becomes established, it can take on establishment ideas,’ Ceri said.

  ‘What about religious extremists?’ Lily suggested.

  ‘Well…’ Bets seemed reluctant, like if she discussed this it might bring something bad down on them. ‘There are a few religious groups who preach strict biblical law. The Old Testament is pretty much a licence to kill gays, but it’s equally harsh on witches, sorcerers, wizards… depends on which version you read. Unlikely they’d use magic, or condone its use.’

  Ceri shrugged. ‘Thaumaturgy.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Bets asked.

  ‘It’s… directed miracle working,’ Ceri explained. ‘Thaumaturges act as a conduit for the magic of some higher power. They differ from Evokers who do the same sort of thing, but they use the higher powers through their messengers as well as taking power from spirits.’

  ‘Oh,’ Bets said.

  ‘She’s gorgeous when she gets her lecture on,’ Lily commented, grinning.

  Bets giggled. ‘I just can’t see you going out with a scientist.’

  ‘We don’t go out that much,’ Lily replied.

  ‘Lily lives with me,’ Ceri replied. ‘Originally as a lodger, back when I thought I was straight.’

  Lily raised an eyebrow, but Bets seemed to take it entirely in her stride. ‘Oh it’s surprising how society can channel you down that route. You conform to the lifestyle your parents and friends think is right, and you’re not happy, but you don’t do anything about it…’

  ‘Oh no,’ Ceri said, ‘I still like guys, I just… appreciate women. I really thought I was straight, but I’ve just given up trying to believe it. Self-delusion is just stupid.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ Lily said. ‘I’ve been waiting for her to admit it for months.’

  ‘Are you saying she just outed herself as bi to me?’ Bets said, a smirk developing.

  ‘Oh no,’ Lily said, ‘you are so not printing that…’

  ‘She can if she wants,’ Ceri broke in. ‘I don’t really think it’s anyone’s business but ours, but people figured we were sleeping together long before we did. Hell, the Wednesday Witch already suggested we were a couple, it’s not exactly a scoop.’

  Bets grinned. ‘It’ll give me an excuse to interview you for the magazine next time you do something clever. I’ve been trying to push a few articles on, well, people who do amazing things and just happen to be gay or bi.’ She grimaced. ‘My editor prefers articles on “issues.”’

  ‘Issues?’ Ceri asked.

  ‘Yeah. Prejudice in local government, the policy of discharging gays in the military, trying to get the Church to recognise gay clergy and perform marriages. I’d like to cover more stuff about real people. If you read our mag you get the impression being gay sucks! Everyone’s against you. There’s nothing to encourage anyone, to show that you can be great and not straight.’

  Lily giggled. ‘Very alliterative.’

  The journalist giggled in turn. ‘My editor’s a bit of a militant. She’s loving the bombing far too much, to be honest. I’m not even running an article next issue because what I was working on has no “human interest.” What she means is she’s running an entire issue on the explosion. It’s been a couple of days and she’s headlining with an article on how the police aren’t really trying to find the killer.’ She took a long pull on her drink and sighed. ‘So I’m getting drunk. I don’t suppose you’d like to come back to my place and shag me into insensibility?’

  ‘That bad?’ Lily asked. She turned her head slightly toward Ceri. ‘Bets is a workaholic. When she’s trying to forget her job, it’s gotta be bad.’

  The journalist reached over and patted Lily’s arm. ‘I’m just kidding about the sex part, Lil. Not that I’d say no, but I’m sure I’ll manage without a pity fuck. It’s just this new editor, she’s getting me down.’

  ‘What’s her name?’ Ceri asked.

  ‘Millicent Prentice,’ Bets growled. ‘She gives lesbians a bad name.’

  ‘Thanks, Bets,’ Lily said. ‘I’ve got a few other places to show Ceri around.’ She grinned mischievously. ‘Maybe we can get together sometime when it won’t be a pity fuck.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Ceri said. ‘I for one would love to know how you got your waist that shape.’

  Bets laughed. ‘Leverage, dear. It’s all about the leverage.’

  Vauxhall, October 18th

  It was pushing one in the morning and Lily had said she just wanted to try one more place before they headed home. Ceri, having never done what amounted to a pub crawl before, never mind one down every gay bar on Old Compton Street, was just happy this would be the last. She was a little surprised when Lily hopped the tube lines over to Vauxhall and then took Ceri under the railway arches to a door cut into the brickwork with a psychedelic sort of neon sign which read “Sin-co-Pation.”

  Ceri looked up at the sign. ‘First,’ she said, ‘seriously?’

  ‘Maybe all the good names were taken,’ Lily suggested. ‘It’s been going for years now so it can’t be too much of a problem.’

  ‘Okay,’ Ceri said, though she did not sound convinced, ‘since when has there been a gay district down the road from our place?’

  ‘Since a fairly long time. You didn’t know?’ Vauxhall Bridge was less than a mile away from Kennington Park and Ceri had not had a clue that there was any sort of gay scene down there. ‘Come on,’ Lily said, ‘it’s not too bad on the inside.’ Smiling at the heavy-set bouncers on the door she ducked in through the door and slipped to one side to pay the cover charge. Ceri looked on in amazement.

  Tucked into the line of the brickwork supporting the railway tracks was what looked like a garden. It was a little late in the season for flowering plants; the rose bushes had no blooms and relatively few leaves, and the bedding showed no sign of colour. However, the privet hedges forming something a little like a maze were thick and concealing. No one was visible on any of the tables Ceri could see, but there were a few noises suggesting that the garden was not empty.

  ‘It’s kind of based on Spring Gardens,’ Lily said as she stepped up behind Ceri. ‘Back in… uh, the sixteen-hundreds, I think, this place was noted for music, fireworks, dancing, and sex, of course. That was before it was Vauxhall. You had to get here by boat.’

  ‘How do you know this stuff?’ Ceri asked as Lily led her through the bushes, apparently heading somewhere.

  ‘Some people you meet spreading your legs for a living can actually be interesting to talk to,’ Lily replied. ‘There was this history professor from LCU who had done a study of prostitution in London as part of his PhD thesis. He was, oh, sixty when I met him and he just loved telling me stories about how people had been doing what I did since the Romans built the place.’ She giggled. ‘Gave him time to rest between periods of demonstrating what they had got up to. Did you know “lupa” was the Roman name for the cheapest form of prostitute?’ She pushed open a door set into a wooden wall which had been built un
der one of the arches and a wash of heat slid out to warm Ceri’s skin.

  ‘Yes,’ Ceri said, ‘I did.’ It was also Latin for a she-wolf and werewolf slang for an easy lay.

  The bar area was relatively dimly lit, but there was a dance floor which expanded out on the other side of the arch and that was full of throbbing music, pulsing lights, and dancing people. The company seemed mixed; male couples and groups, female couples and groups, and a small number of mixed pairings. Ceri could not tell whether they were straight and liked the atmosphere or just confused.

  ‘It doesn’t look like they’re any more concerned than the other ten places you’ve dragged me through this evening,’ Ceri said.

  ‘I didn’t drag you,’ Lily replied. ‘Another drink or have you had enough for tonight?’

  ‘I’ll have a…’ Ceri stopped, her eyes narrowing, and Lily looked at her and then in the direction she was staring.

  Sitting alone at a table in the corner was a woman with red hair, dressed in a pale coloured camisole top. She looked miserable and no one was going near her which made her presence in the place that much more odd. Lily recognised her immediately, though. ‘That’s Kate,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah,’ Ceri replied, ‘it is. C’mon.’ She marched off across the floor with Lily at her heel. As they neared the table a flick of Ceri’s wrist sent Lily off to Kate’s left; the detective suddenly found herself flanked and unable to get out from behind the table. She looked at Ceri and Lily liked a scared deer. Ceri smiled and said, ‘Hi Kate. We weren’t expecting to see you here?’

  ‘I wanted to get out of the house,’ Kate said, her tone defensive, ‘grab a drink…’

  ‘You live down Herne Hill way,’ Lily said. ‘This is hardly your local.’

  ‘Uh, well…’ Kate stammered.

  ‘Then there’s the matter of the camisole top and the little pleated skirt,’ Ceri added.

  ‘I’m wearing a bra,’ Kate countered, ‘which is more than I can say…’

  ‘Hmm, yes,’ Lily broke in, ‘a push-up.’

  ‘I didn’t know you liked girls,’ Ceri commented.

  ‘I did,’ Lily supplied, ‘though it’s actually more complicated than that.’ Her gaze turned to Kate who was looking even more uncomfortable. ‘You know, you just had to ask.’

  ‘Like you said,’ Kate almost mumbled, ‘it’s complicated.’

  ‘Things usually seem to be complicated because we make them complicated,’ Lily stated flatly.

  Ceri’s eyes narrowed; there was something wrong with the witch and it was getting in the way of investigating the bombing and the deaths. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ she said. ‘We can talk back at High Towers where no one is going to hear us who shouldn’t.’

  Kate gave a resigned sigh, but she followed Ceri and Lily out of the club. This was going to be tough, but she also had to tell someone about her problems, why not these two?

  Kennington

  The fire was burning in the lounge and Twill had made coffee; it seemed like a better idea than alcohol. Kate sat in the guest chair with her legs curled under her. Lily had stripped as soon as she got in and was now in her customary position on the footstool beside Ceri’s chair, her chin resting on the leather of the arm.

  ‘I recall you saying you had no lesbian leanings,’ Ceri said when Kate had said nothing for several minutes.

  ‘I lied,’ Kate replied. ‘I’m not saying cops are prejudiced against… alternate lifestyles, but I’m also not saying it wouldn’t have affected my career. Besides… well, it’s not exactly like I’m a lesbian…’

  ‘She’s attracted to supernaturals,’ Lily said. ‘Gender doesn’t matter. I said, you just had to ask. I’d have wanted to share you with Ceri, but you just had to ask.’

  Kate blushed, but Ceri was more concerned about something else. ‘So what’s happened? You’re the bright one, John’s the sourpuss. What’s got you depressed and snarky?’

  ‘You remember John and Lorna took me out on their wedding anniversary?’ Ceri and Lily nodded, though Kate looked like she was hoping they had forgotten. ‘When we left the Dragon we went back to their place for a nightcap. I kind of knew it was a bad idea, but I was a bit drunk and you know how Lorna is when she’s half-cut. She’s such a cute drunk.’ The witch took a drink of coffee and then a deep breath. ‘We were sitting there drinking whiskey and Lorna asked if I’d help her give John a really great anniversary present.’ Ceri gave a little wince, and Kate confirmed her suspicion. ‘I said yes and the next thing I knew she was kissing me.’

  ‘John didn’t go for it?’ Ceri asked.

  ‘Oh, he went for it,’ Kate replied. ‘He may be straighter than a Roman road, but he’s human and male. His wife was snogging another woman and making it clear it was for his entertainment. By the time she’d got my clothes off he was really interested and I was just too far gone to care. Thing is, when he woke up with a hangover to discover his wife sucking on my thigh…’

  ‘He started wondering what the hell he’d done?’ Ceri suggested.

  ‘Yeah, and Lorna hasn’t helped. She asked him if we could make it a more regular thing.’ She grimaced, but went on quickly. ‘In her defence, she’s thinking of him. He’s the only one she feeds from. He eats huge amounts of red meat and he’s on iron pills, but there’s still days when he looks far too pale.’

  ‘She’s dead,’ Ceri said flatly. ‘No matter how hard she tries she’s not as good at reading human emotions as she was when she was alive.’

  ‘I know,’ Kate said, ‘but he’s overreacting. We got drunk and did something stupid. He was pretty keen about it while it was happening. Now he’s sullen and I’ve been suffering from withdrawal from the bites… It’s been shitty.’ She looked at Lily apologetically. ‘You had some sort of bright idea about the bombing? I’m sorry, I should’ve listened.’

  Lily shrugged slightly. ‘You’re listening now. You’ve got three dead witches, one missing, and now a bomb meant to kill homosexuals. Has anyone considered a religious angle?’

  ‘Wait,’ Kate said, frowning, ‘three dead witches?’

  ‘Sally Pendle,’ Ceri said. ‘Died in a house fire in the summer. It may not be connected, but it’s an interesting coincidence.’

  ‘I’ve not heard anyone on the Chief’s team mention her,’ Kate mused. She gave a slight shrug. ‘The bombing has disrupted everything, but there’s a heavy suspicion it’s terrorism related and it’s being run by Special Branch.’

  ‘Terrorists?’ Ceri asked. ‘What terrorists? And why hit a gay bar?’

  ‘I didn’t say I suspected it was terrorists,’ Kate said, managing a weak grin. ‘They’re muttering things about Scottish separatists.’

  ‘Because they’re so effective and noted for gay-bashing,’ Lily commented. You could have used the sarcasm to build a wall.

  ‘So, you’re thinking someone’s taking Leviticus a little literally?’ Kate asked.

  ‘Exodus, Leviticus, Deuteronomy,’ Ceri replied, ‘they’re all pretty full of capital crimes we’d consider a little extreme these days.’

  ‘Well,’ Kate said, ‘there was one detail of the bombing which didn’t make it into the press reports. The Times was sent a letter the morning after the bomb went off. It was posted in Westminster and it had one line on it, “Their blood is on their own hands.”’

  ‘That’s from the Bible, give or take,’ Ceri said. ‘It was used to indicate that people doing things against God’s Law could be executed without it constituting an infringement of the Sixth Commandment.’

  ‘Special Branch said a lot of Scottish extremists are highly religious, but it’s more likely designed to throw us off the scent.’ Kate shrugged a little. ‘It could be that’s your religious link.’

  ‘If there’s a link,’ Ceri said, ‘I’m not buying it. Why hit witches and gays? It makes no sense. And shouldn’t they be making demands?’

  ‘That’s assuming there’s a link between the murders and the bomb,’ Kate pointed out. ‘We’ve not foun
d anything on Shore’s disappearance. That’s still a mystery.’ She had been looking more animated, but she suddenly sagged again. ‘Assuming I can get John to talk to me properly, I could maybe take this to the Chief and see what we can link up.’

  ‘He’ll come around,’ Lily said. ‘He loves Lorna too much to let this destroy their marriage and she’ll persuade him it’s all okay one way or another.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ Kate said. She looked depressed again.

  Lily looked at Ceri, who looked back and nodded. ‘I think it’s time for bed,’ the half-succubus said.

  ‘Yeah,’ Kate said with a sigh, ‘I should get home and…’

  ‘No,’ Ceri said. ‘We’re taking you to our bed. Call it Dutch courage, but you won’t be depressed once Lily’s finished with you.’

  Kennington, October 19th

  ‘A little bird told me you’ve found evidence of the thaumino,’ Ed’s image said. The smirk on his face was positively mischievous.

  Ceri grinned at him, though she was concentrating on manipulating normal magic rather than super-magic. ‘I’d imagine you lot have all the equations written down somewhere and solid proof of the Super-magic field…’

  ‘No,’ Ed said. ‘No, we’ve never had definite proof of it. In fact it was considered more or less mythology until it was theorised here. There was a suggestion among some elements that the entire concept was heresy. Something which controlled and limited magic? The stuff we were formed from, given boundaries we had never considered?’

  ‘Dragons with religion?’ Ceri said. She grinned as the figure she was working on assumed the shape of a wire-frame dragon, it’s nose bent around to touch its tail.

  ‘Why not?’ Ed replied. ‘There is some evidence to suggest that intelligence brings with it a desire to find answers where we have none. Religion is one way of doing that, even if it’s not one I find satisfying. That’s very well done, by the way. Modelled after your tattoo?’

  ‘After the pendant,’ Ceri said. ‘I’ve never had that good a view of the tattoo since it’s on my back.’

  ‘Have you ever asked Brenhines about it?’

  Ceri shook her head and contracted the figure she had formed into a ball. ‘She hasn’t dropped by since Barnes was trying to kill me.’ Plucking the ball of thaumic energy from the air, she closed her hand around it, vanishing it into the nothing she had originally summoned it from.

 

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