Corrigan Magic (Corrigan: Blood Destiny Book 2)

by Helen Harper

  I stared at him. I’d long since realised that the floppy-haired magician was capable of more than his appearance suggested. However, I’d also been aware that he had some cowardly tendencies. Despite my desire to find the bloody werehamster and throttle her before I locked her in my bedroom until she purred, I admired his sudden stubbornness. He obviously knew that I wouldn’t ask the Arch-Mage directly for help as far as Mack was concerned. Some things had to be dealt with in house.

  “My Lord Corrigan,” squeaked the mage escort at my side, “you should probably get going. It’ll be dark soon.”

  I threw him a look. “Maybe I like the dark. It makes it easier to hunt my prey.”

  He visibly balked. Regretting my words, I sighed. Considering what was going on in Somerset, my energies really should be focused elsewhere. “Fine,” I snapped. “Let’s go.”

  Once I was in the back of the car, with Mara driving, I got hold of Staines. What do you know about lubber fiends? I’ve agreed to sort out a group of them for the Arch-Mage.

  I could hear the grimace in his response. Nasty creatures. Best to avoid them if you can. They’re vermin.

  That’s rather harsh, isn’t it?

  Not really, my Lord. You’ll find out. His tone was ominous.

  I sighed internally. Things just kept getting better and better. I want to go to Somerset once I’ve finished with them.

  That’s a bad idea.

  Everything I suggest these days is a bad idea as far as you’re concerned.

  That’s because everything you suggest is a bad idea, my Lord. You’ve been in a bad mood since…

  I quickly interrupted him. Let’s stay on topic, Staines. Somerset.

  You can’t risk infecting yourself.

  My life isn’t any more valuable than anyone else’s, I pointed out.

  No, but you meet more shifters than most others do. If you get infected, you’ll be in a position to pass on any disease to far too many others.

  It really annoyed me when he was right.

  Besides, Staines continued, of the three shifters who passed away, two were over sixty-five and the third had several underlying conditions. It’s tragic. But it’ll probably blow over soon. These things tend to sort themselves out.

  I gnawed on my cheek. I really hoped he was right with that too. Unfortunately, I had a terrible feeling that this was only the beginning.

  Chapter Four

  When the portal opened, Tom, Lucy and myself ventured through one by one. Each of us were ready for action. I didn’t think we were prepared for the sight in front of us, however.

  “I thought you said it was just an outpost, my Lord,” Lucy said, craning her neck upwards.

  “I did.” There was no mistaking the grim set to my mouth. “I’d been expecting something small. A hut, perhaps, or a small house. Not this.”

  My eyes travelled the length of the castle. It was vast. Rising out from a green sea of perfectly manicured lawn were spires, turrets and imposing walls. Even the lowest parapet had to be twenty metres high. Simply locating the lubber fiends could take days. I silently cursed the Arch-Mage. A little forewarning would have been nice.

  Tom scratched his neck. “It looks familiar.”

  “Yeah,” Lucy agreed. “I’m sure I’ve seen it before.”

  I gave them both an unhappy look and strode forward to read a small sign set next to a rosebush. The corners of my mouth downturned even further. “It looks familiar because it is. It’s a film location. Apparently Cressida and James had their first onscreen kiss here.”

  “Really?” Tom bounded up. “I love that film!” He pulled a phone out of his back pocket and took a photo. When he caught me staring at him, he hung his head in sudden contrition. From the sparkle in his eyes, I knew it was all for show though.

  “What does that mean for us?” Lucy asked.

  I tensed my shoulders as a large bus swung by us, pulling into the car-park just opposite. Dozens of people piled off. “Tourists,” I said through gritted teeth. “Lots and lots of tourists.”

  *

  As much as we might have wanted to avoid the crowds, it was next to impossible to manage. We ended up behind a large group who were incomprehensibly following a brash woman holding a little blue flag.

  “And here in front, you will notice the front door,” she explained in grandiose tones. “It’s made out of wood.”

  I exchanged a glance with Lucy. It was a mistake because I was forced to bite down hard on my tongue to avoid laughing out loud and drawing needless attention our way. We trailed inside after the tourists, doing what we could to blend in with them. Both Tom and Lucy were doing a far better job of it than I was. At least they managed to look as if they were enjoying themselves. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep the glower off my face. This was not my idea of a productive way to spend my evening.

  “What time does the castle close to visitors?” I asked a nearby woman, who was wearing a name-tag and what appeared to be a squashed mushroom for a hat.

  “8 o’clock.” She beamed at me. “Can I see your ticket?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your entrance ticket.” She held her hand out expectantly, her smile still blasting out full wattage.

  I looked from her outstretched palm to her face and back again. “I don’t have a ticket,” I said slowly.

  “That’s fine, sir. You can purchase one now.”

  “Can I?” I murmured, seething ire rising up inside. It wasn’t enough that we had to scour an area the size of Hyde Park to find the bloody fiends, we now had to pay for the privilege. “How much is it?”

  “Twenty-five pounds.”

  I gaped. “You’re kidding me.”

  “It’s a day pass, sir. You can stay as long as you want.”

  “Except you shut at 8pm,” I pointed out. “And it’s now five to seven.”

  The woman just continued to smile. With effort, after all it wasn’t her fault, I smiled back, paying for the three of us. I was still fuming at the Arch-Mage, however, when we walked away.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so furious,” Lucy commented with an arch grin.

  I shook my head. “It’s an affront.”

  “I thought the mages were hard up. That’s what everyone’s saying, anyway. But with buildings like this and money like that…”

  “It’s not as simple as that, unfortunately. The upkeep of a place like this is tremendous.”

  Tom nodded. “Imagine the heating bill.”

  “I know they sold of a lot of their property. They’re only hanging on to a handful of places outside of London now. I guess the film stuff and the tourism helps keep this place on its feet.”

  “Why don’t they sell it?”

  “Because no-one knows what’s around the corner.”

  Unfortunately for me what was around the corner was a small tow-headed child sucking on her thumb. She gazed at me with wide saucer-like eyes then kicked me in the shin and ran off. “I’m amazed the lubber fiends haven’t been driven off yet,” I muttered, ignoring the stifled giggles from my two companions.

  I jerked my head to the side towards a small door that was roped off, before quickly stepping over the barrier and moving inside with the pair of them right behind me. “We need to split up,” I told them, once I was sure we were out of earshot. “Find the lubber fiends. Don’t engage them unless it’s necessary. I’ll check in with you via the Voice every fifteen minutes or so. I don’t want to spend all night here.”

  Tom and Lucy fervently agreed, then peeled off to the left and right respectively. I headed forward.

  Now I was out of the main visitor thoroughfare, the surroundings were markedly different. Instead of opulent fabrics and ancient paintings, the rooms were almost entirely bare. There were a few sticks of furniture here and there but they were as close to being antique as a flat-pack bookshelf from IKEA. It made searching easier, if nothing else. If there was nothing in the room, there was nowhere for a lubber fiend to
hide.

  Anything yet? I inquired.

  Not a thing.

  Tom chimed in. Me either.

  I sighed, rubbed my forehead, and kept searching.

  There seemed little logic to the castle’s layout. The rooms were higgledy-piggledy and I found myself forced to backtrack several times because I ended up at various dead-ends. It wasn’t until I opened one door, thinking it to be nothing more than a cupboard, and I saw the steps leading downwards, that I began to think I might be getting somewhere. If I were a tiny demon like creature, I’d probably like the basement, I decided. I flicked on the light and ventured down.

  The stairs were uneven, worn by hundreds of years of use. Somehow it gave this part of the building a tragic atmosphere. I padded down, keeping my tread as light and silent as possible. I was tempted to shift but I wanted to communicate with the fiends first before attempting to fight them. There were more ways to skin a cat than simple brute force. When the staircase curved round and I caught a strange whiff of what smelled like boot polish, I was certain I was getting close to their lair.

  I emerged out into what appeared to be a storage room. Boxes and crates lay everywhere. There was something odd about them all. It wasn’t until I inspected them closely that I realised what it was. They were stacked on top of each other, their edges flush. Each tower was equidistant to the next one. The mathematical precision of the layout was astounding. It also occurred to me that there wasn’t so much as a smidgen of dust to be seen. For an old, disused room, that was downright remarkable.

  Tiptoeing along to the next door, I avoided the centre of the room where the floorboards were more likely to creak and give me away. When I reached the door itself, and pressed my ear up against it, I knew I’d found gold. There were definitely muted voices on the other side. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying - in fact, it didn’t even sound English. All the same, I sent a quick message out to Tom and Lucy to inform them of both my discovery and location. Then I turned the doorknob.

  There were four of them. They were seated around some kind of low-lying table and bickering loudly to each other in high-pitched voices. I’d been right – whatever they were speaking, it wasn’t a language I was familiar with. It was more a series of clicks and squeaks than anything I could decipher as words. I kept the door open by little more than a crack, watching them carefully. They really were tiny creatures. I could probably hold all four in the palms of my hands. Each one was dressed in brightly coloured clothing, and each one wore an oddly pointed hat.

  The one nearest to me began squeaking even louder. He threw something down on the table and kicked away his miniature chair. He put his hands on his hips and spat unceremoniously on the floor. The other three fiends looked shocked and hissed back at him. I shifted my weight to try and get a better look at what was really going on. When I saw what was on the table, it finally dawned on me. They were playing poker. Somehow I’d stumbled across a lubber fiend gambling den. I threw the door open, ready to confront the lot of them. All four turned in my direction, mouths simultaneously falling open. I held up my hands to indicate I was unarmed, and gave them a smile.

  “Hello, boys.”

  The fiend who was standing snickered. He leaned over and nudged his companion, jabbering loudly. Then they all threw back their heads and laughed. I frowned. This wasn’t quite going as I’d expected.

  I took a step inside. “I just want to chat,” I said.

  The fiends’ laughter grew. My eyes narrowed. I’d been in this damn castle long enough as it was and my patience was wearing thin. I didn’t need a bunch of tiny creatures treating me as their evening entertainment. I was many things, but I wasn’t a comedian.

  Something sharp stabbed into my ankle. I glanced down and saw yet another fiend. It was latched on, its teeth sinking into my flesh. It was too small to really hurt but it was still annoying. I lifted my leg and tried to shake it off. When that didn’t work, I bent down to pull it away with my fingers. That was when they rushed me.

  The fiends came from all directions. There weren’t merely four of them – there were hundreds. It felt like hundreds anyway. Several appeared at my back, even though I could have sworn there had been nothing in the room behind me beyond the boxes. They leapt at me, biting and clawing. It was vaguely akin to being attacked by a swarm of bees. I growled, lashing out at them. I didn’t want to hurt them but they were becoming damn annoying.

  Grabbing the nearest one by the scruff of its neck, I held it up and glared into its eyes. “Stop this! I want to talk!”

  It squeaked at me. Then, before I could do anything else, even more lubber fiends appeared, swarming over me. I finally tensed myself to shift - but it was too late. My consciousness seeped away, along with the nips of pain and any semblance of light.

  *

  When I awoke, I was spread-eagled on the floor. I tried to sit up but both my hands and feet were tightly bound. I tugged at them in a vain bid to free myself but the lubber fiends were apparently rather cunning and had a sailor’s knowledge of knots. To my left, I could hear steady breathing and I knew without looking that both Tom and Lucy were beside me. I probed at gently them with my Voice.

  Wake up.

  There was a soft moan.

  Hush. We need to stay quiet.

  Tom made a tiny grunt. I feel like I’ve been pricked by a million needles. What the hell are these things?

  There was a creak as Lucy strained at her own bindings. They look similar to hobgoblins.

  I agreed. I’d never been attacked by a hobgoblin before though.

  What’s the plan, boss?

  Despite our situation, I grinned at Tom’s epithet. It was considerably more relaxed and friendly than ‘my Lord’. We need to get out of here. There are hundreds of the things and they don’t seem to want to negotiate.

  Why do you think they’ve tied us up?

  I have no idea. They could have killed us while we were out so perhaps they want something from us.

  I was right. The fiends must have been alerted to our awakening because one jumped over and perched itself on my chest, blinking owlishly down. Unlike the others I’d seen, this one was wearing all black. Interesting. It jumped up and down on my ribcage and made yet another series of little high-pitched squawks. I sighed. The lack of coherent communication was not aiding matters. However, when I didn’t immediately respond, the fiend wrinkled his nose and rubbed his thumb and finger together. Ah ha. Finally something I understood.

  “If you want money,” I said slowly and clearly, “you need to let us go.”

  The fiend leapt backwards, landing on my stomach. It hissed.

  I tried to remain reasonable. “I can’t help you out unless you release us.”

  Whether he understood or not wasn’t apparent. I tried to think of a solution. Just then, however, Tom made a strange sound. I jerked my head over, as did the lubber fiend. The werewolf continued, clicking his tongue and squeaking several times, while Lucy and I exchanged glances. Perhaps there was more to Mack’s werewolf friend that met the eye. The fiend abandoned my belly and hopped over to him, jabbering away in return.

  After what seemed to be several exchanges, Tom finally spoke in a manner I understood. “The fiends have lived here for decades. Now that the mages have brought in tourists, they can’t do their job properly. As a result they want compensation.”

  Deciding to avoid asking the obvious about his linguistic skills, I focused on what was really important. “How much money?”

  “Twenty pieces of silver.”

  I frowned. “And how many fiends are there?”

  “You misunderstand. They don’t want twenty pieces of silver each. They just want twenty pieces of silver.”

  “Nothing else?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing else.”

  It seemed bizarre. Although I was fairly certain I could escape my bonds without too much trouble, the lubber fiends didn’t know that. They could have asked for a great deal more.

&
nbsp; “My Lord,” Tom continued, speaking more formally than before, “they seem remarkably peeved about the job business. I’m sure that if we can find them alternative employment, then we may be able to persuade them to leave.”

  It sounded promising. “What kind of employment are we talking about?”

  “Cleaning.”

  “Really?” Lucy sounded as surprised as I felt.

  “You were right,” Tom explained. “They are related to hobgoblins. And brownies. They’re just a bit more, um, obsessive about the whole cleaning thing.”

  I thought about the spick and span room next to this one. It made a kind of sense. “Tom, how can you speak to them?”

  He spoke softly. “Julia employs a group of brownies in Cornwall to make sure the keep is regularly cleaned. I learnt how to communicate with them. It just so happens that the fiends speak a similar tongue. No-one’s supposed to know about the Cornish brownies but once when I was ill as a child…” His voice trailed off. “Well, it’s not that important. It’s just about the only secret I’ve ever managed to keep though.”

  Just about? I wondered what else was locked away inside his head. Aloud, however, I merely thanked him.

  It was a stretch, but I thought I might just be able to reach Cornwall with my Voice from here. It was a long way but there was no time like the present to push my limits even further.

  Julia? I’m sorry for disturbing you.

  There was a momentary pause before she answered, sounding just as unruffled as she always did. It’s no bother, my Lord Alpha. Her response was faint but audible. We’ve only just returned from London so you’ve caught us at a good time. What can I do for you?

  Brownies, I answered. I hear you have some.

  Yes. She sounded surprised. I suppose Tom has been telling tales. He didn’t even tell Mackenzie about them. You must have his respect indeed.

  I ignored the brief tingle I felt at Mack’s name. Actually it’s probably not because of anything like respect. His honesty will be more to do with our current predicament. I quickly outlined our situation with the lubber fiends, aware that the black suited fiend, not to mention Tom and Lucy, were waiting.