Thaumatology 12: Vengeance (4 page)

The demon looked both impressed and surprised. ‘I had not realised that magic had been taken to that level in your world, Overlord.’

‘I did the work myself,’ Ceri replied, glossing over the involvement of the dragons; it was almost certainly better to have the demons thinking of her as near-omnipotent
and
a genius. ‘I’ve created two so far and there has been considerable interest in extending the use of them.’

‘There are some… difficulties with constructing them through deep water. They become unstable due to the higher density of salt water…’

Ceri gave him a frown. ‘You’ve practical experience of this?’

‘Our own attempts to bring power into regions with lower energy levels have proven unsuccessful,’ he admitted.

‘Hmm…’ She came to a decision after a second’s thought: hearts and minds were going to be important. ‘My own calculations suggest that it’s possible without excessive loss. I suspect I have a different mechanism for containing the stream which may prove useful. We’ll arrange to have some of your magical theorists visit the castle and I can go over the equations with them.’

‘I…’ He stopped speaking, apparently at a loss, and then dropped to one knee. ‘Lady, I would be hard-pressed to adequately express my thanks were you able to help us in this way.’

Ceri gave him a smile which she hoped was just a little bit evil and reached up to pat him on the cheek. ‘Don’t worry, Ignash, I’m sure I’ll think of a way.’

As he walked back down the stairs, Ceri waved Faran over to her. ‘I haven’t just done something stupid, have I?’

Faran grinned. ‘Ignash isn’t interested in anything above the level the sunlight gets to and no one really bothers much with his domain either. As he said, he lives in deep salt water which tends to dampen the magic field. He has a rather impoverished fiefdom which you are offering to make more habitable. Succeed and he’ll be one of your most loyal subjects.’

Ceri returned to her seat with a sigh of relief. ‘Hope I didn’t get my maths wrong then. Wheel the next one in.’

~~~

Ophelia met them for lunch, or mid-morning snack, or whatever you wanted to call it. Demons had a habit of snacking when they could get the food, since they tended to be active for such a long time between night periods. Ceri had decided it was a valid habit since a three-meal regime would likely result in starvation and it broke up the meetings more.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ the raven-haired fae said as she sat in one of the enormously oversized chairs with some bread and cheese in one hand and a goblet of wine in the other.

‘Good,’ Ceri replied. ‘It is what I pay you for.’

‘You don’t actually pay me.’

‘Huh, yeah, forgot about that…’ Ceri held a hand out to Lily who handed over a small pouch, and that was tossed across into Ophelia’s lap. ‘Gold works here and in Otherworld, right?’

‘Uh… yeah. Which brings me to what I was thinking about. I’m the ambassador to Otherworld, so I figure I should actually be here and there at least some of the time, and I can’t keep living at High Towers. I mean, it’s kind of nice there and Gwyn and Mei have been great, but…’

‘You need a place of your own,’ Ceri finished for her.

‘Yeah. So I was wondering whether I could live here?’

‘Uh… I can’t see a problem, there’s plenty of space. I can set the portal up so that you can open it when needed. Do you really want to spend that much time here?’

‘Well, I’m going to see if I can schmooze some apartments in the Summer Palace and spend some time there, and I may crash in your lounge after my more mundane job, but… Look, you’ve given me a big job here. If I’m going to do it, I’m going to do it right.’

‘You never struck me as the type,’ Lily said.

‘When I take a job, I like to see it done. Sure I like to play, I’m an Unseelie Sidhe, but I have a sense of responsibility.’

‘Okay,’ Ceri said, ‘if that’s what you want I’ll set it up.’ She grinned. ‘Saves on rent too, right?’

‘Well, yeah, there’s that, but it’s all about the responsibility. Really.’

‘Uh-huh.’

Battersea, London, Earth.

Michael paused to sniff the night air, his muzzle rising inquisitively. The river was close by with its scents of water and diesel oil. There was a slight scent of aroused werewolf on the breeze this close to the full moon. The primary scent here, right beside the huge bulk of Battersea Power Station, was magic.

The generator did not raise the local magic field much; Ceri had tried to explain to him how the various huge pylons inside the building reinforced their own field within the circle while they suppressed the field outside, and Michael had smiled at her until she stopped. It worked, and the pack had a quite lucrative contract adding extra security to the site, and that was good enough for him. It did not leak much, but it was enough to ionise the air more than usual giving the area around it a scent something like standing on a beach on a hot day.

Satisfied that everything seemed quiet, he set off down the east side of the building at a fast lope.

When he was out of sight, something darker than the night around it detached from the shadows near the river and walked purposefully toward the generator building carrying a case. The door it went to was, of course, locked and alarmed, but the figure pulled open the door without pausing and no alarm sounded.

The only light in the room came from the random interactions of thaumitons in the generator. No one came in here unless they had to. That was partially because it pretty much ran itself. In fact, no one had figured out how to turn it off yet. The other reason was that most of the staff were just a little scared of the vast power residing within the twin ring of complex, geometrically formed pylons. In the central ring the measured reading was over twenty-eight thaums, very close to dangerous levels. Very odd things could happen to someone walking into a field that strong.

The figure made a beeline for the centre.

Castle of Bones, Demon Realm, March 27
^th
.

The noise was deafening. It might have been early for a banquet as far as the demons were concerned, but the Overlord had to get back to her other home before dark and no one was going to let a little thing like daylight they could not even see get in the way of drinking too much and stuffing themselves with food they did not have to pay for. Of course, they
were
going to be paying for it eventually, but most of them had yet to work that one out.

Some of the more intelligent Lords had wondered why Lady Ayasha wanted to go back to the mundane life she had on Earth. A couple had even ventured to express the opinion that she should move to their world full time where she had all the power she could ever want.

The more perceptive ones, well, Jubilia, had worked out by now that ‘Lady Ayasha’ was an act and Ceri wanted to go back to being herself. It was a good act, and the crown let her pull it off to perfection, but it was still an act. Jubilia had no misconceptions regarding Ceri’s willingness to enact some of the horrible threats she handed out if they became necessary; she had seen her do some pretty nasty things in Dorilla and everyone knew what she had done to Molech. However, the Lady of Quatilan would have given good odds on Ceri hoping the threats and her reputation were going to be enough.

The big hall at the back of the ground floor now had long tables in it. They had not been there before the banquet and they were going to vanish once it was done with, but for now the power Ceri had available through the crown was keeping their food, and their behinds, off the floor. Hiffy had been given orders to sort out something more permanent, though Ceri did not think a banquet this size was going to happen that often.

‘Is this normal?’ Ceri whispered to Jubilia, sitting on her right. ‘I mean, do they normally behave like a rugby team at banquets?’

‘Perhaps if you explained what a rug bee was?’ the succubus replied. Then she gave a slight grin. ‘This is a fairly normal demon banquet, especially one where the host is providing such good food and wine. Ruffa has done an excellent job on relatively short notice. Try the tukta, it’s excellent.’

Reaching out, Ceri picked up two haunches of dark meat, putting one down in front of her and handing one back behind her to where Lily was kneeling on a cushion. ‘Here, shekushka, try this. It’s recommended.’

A hand took the offered drumstick and a second later there was, ‘Oh… Oh, Mishtresh. You have oo…’

‘Twill would beat you senseless with a spoon for talking with your mouth full,’ Ceri interrupted.

There was a pause followed by, ‘Sorry, Mistress. It’s gorgeous. We have to take some back for Twill to cook.’

Shrugging, Ceri bit a chunk off her haunch. The meat almost melted in the mouth and left a gamy aftertaste. It was a little like venison. Ceri glanced at Jubilia. ‘Is this one of those times where asking what a tukta was would make me regret that?’

‘It’s a reptile,’ the succubus replied. ‘Nothing especially horrific. Lives in deserts, moves very slowly. It’s amazing we haven’t hunted them to extinction, but they appear to have some method of keeping out of sight when needed. Some think they burrow.’

‘Huh.’ Ceri turned to her other table companion, Ophelia. ‘You tried this?’

‘Uh-huh. Torn said it was good.’

Torn was sitting on the other side of Ophelia, looking a little uncomfortable. He had protested his seating on the table with the Overlord since he was just a minor Lord and someone more suitable should be placed there, and Ceri had told him to grow a pair, which was unfair given that she knew he was a fairly well-endowed Devos. He was sitting there because he was her appointee, like Jubilia, and she wanted people there she trusted, and because, ‘I say so. Any questions?’ There had not been.

Beside Jubilia was Ignash, looking far happier than Torn, but not eating. Surface food disagreed with him, apparently. He had a supply of fish with him which he would take some of later. She knew he was quite anxious to get back into his nice, dark, deep water as soon as the banquet was over, but she had wanted him at the table, along with Jubilia and Torn, so that everyone else
saw
that he was currently in the Overlord’s favour.

‘You’re going back straight after the meal?’ Jubilia asked.

‘Yes. We’ve got things to do tonight… That’s over there night, not here night.’

‘It must be a little confusing, but, if you don’t mind me asking, what is it you do?’

‘Well, I’m a thaumatologist. I study the theory and science behind magic, but tonight I’ll be running with a werewolf pack, and I moonlight waiting tables at a club.’

‘I’m sorry?!’

‘You were the owner of a brothel until recently.’

‘Ah, well… I just think that, well… I didn’t expect to see a waitress on the throne of the Castle of Bones.’

‘You won’t. I’m also the first modern sorceress, the daughter of two of the best enchanters ever, and I come from the bloodline of two of the greatest dragons ever born. I’m pretty much as powerful as any of the Lords even without this crown. Some of them may have more experience, but I know way more about manipulating magic.’

‘Oh… Well when you put it like that…’

Westminster, London, Earth.

John had expected a different reaction from Gwyn at the sight of the decapitated corpse rather than a contemplative frown. She was supposed to be some distant relative of Ceri’s from Wales. Her Public Practitioner’s Licence said she was Gwyneth Price and he knew that Ceri’s mother had been a Preece before marriage, but there was something… not quite right about her.

‘They found bite wounds?’ Gwyn asked.

‘A single pair,’ Kate replied. ‘Very clean.’

‘Right up until the point he ripped her head off,’ Gwyn said.

‘Uh… yeah.’

Gwyn tightened latex gloves around her wrists and picked up the head, turning it to examine the torn end and either ignoring or not seeing the looks of surprise on the detectives’ faces. She turned the thing in her hands slowly, methodically going over it and showing no signs of discomfort.

‘It requires considerable physical strength to manually tear a head from a body like this,’ she said after a few seconds. ‘The murderer braced the body and then placed his hands on the skull under the ears… and pushed. Twisting is a far more efficient method of achieving the same goal. There is no evidence of magic being used, but any lingering pattern of control in her mind is, obviously, gone… You said she was raped?’

‘Technically not,’ Kate replied. Gwyn looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. ‘There is evidence of sexual intercourse prior to her death. Seminal fluid was found and they’re still analysing it, but not really hoping to find anything. There are no indications that it was forced. Rough, yes, but not forced. We’re calling it rape because he killed her afterward, and if she was controlled it’s still legally rape, but I doubt we could get a conviction for aggravated rape given that she’s dead.’

‘Murder will have to suffice.’ She frowned again and put down the head. ‘I am at a loss to suggest a culprit, unless…’

‘Anything might help,’ John stated flatly. ‘We have no viable leads and no way of knowing when he’ll strike again.’