Bloodrage

“Uh, Mr. Slim, do you happen to have a cataloguing system that I could look through?”

“A cataloguing system? A fecking cataloguing system, she asks! Of course we have a feckin’ cataloguing system. Come right this way.”

He dipped slightly in the air then, wings beating harder, picked up again and flew stutteringly over to the middle of the ground floor where, next to the window, I realised were several large cabinets.

“Everything you’ll need is here,” Slim said proudly. Then a little furrow creased his violet forehead and he pointed over at the far end cabinet. “But you can’t fecking touch that one, mind?”

Curiosity arching through me, I nodded vigorously, promising not to go near the forbidden cabinet. Giving me a slightly suspicious look, the librarian turned back around and fluttered over to one of the desks. I could feel his beady eyes still on me, however, so I made my good on my promise and stuck to the permitted areas, opening the first cabinet to get an understanding of the system.

I had to admit that I was really rather impressed. Everything was neatly labeled in meticulous handwriting. It seemed like a lot of work, and that the gargoyle’s aversion to computers was doing him considerably more harm than good, but I figured that it wasn’t really my problem. I skimmed through the first sections, skipping over the histories and treaties and sections on Illusion, then opened the next cabinet. Grinning slightly to myself, I noted that the cards here were all for Evocation and the unromantically titled ‘Creatures’. This was perfect. I could ostensibly find the location of a book on Evocation, information on the vampires’ stronghold, and whether my Fae book was even listed all at the same time.

Aware that Slim’s eyes were still on me, I began flicking through the entries for Evocation. I was kind of hoping that I would come across one helpfully entitled Evocation for Dummies, but I had no such luck. Still, I managed to find several titles that might just be vaguely comprehensible, so I made a quick note of them, then quickly moved onto the Creatures section. I wasn’t entirely sure what to look for in terms of how the Fae book would be catalogued. There was an entire section on the Fae and I was sorely tempted to spend more time going through it to see if there was anything that might give me more information about Solus and who he really was. I had no time for idle curiosities, however, and there was nothing entitled Fire, neither in runic script nor in English, so I reluctantly left the Fae books behind and checked for information texts on dragons instead.

There were several books on wyverns: different breeds, ways of dealing with them, how to summon them and so on, and a few interesting sounding books about the history of the species. None of it really seemed to be what I was looking for so, as a last resort and with my heart in my mouth, I searched for Draco Wyr. There was nothing. Not a goddamn thing. My gaze flicked over to the cabinet that was off-limits. I knew I couldn’t entirely discount the fact that this huge library didn’t include details of the mysterious Fae text or any others that might shed light on the Draco Wyr until I checked through all the catalogues. There was no way I was going to manage that today though, not with Slim hovering so closely. It was probably a good thing. I had all the time in the world to discover more about myself and my blood, but as far as Alex and the VIP party went, I was definitely on a clock. With an inaudible sigh, I switched tactics and searched for vampires instead.

Clearly, the mages had a bit of thing about the vamps. There were far more books to do with them than there had been even for the Fae. Fascinated, I picked through all the titles. There were even a few that seemed to suggest theories on how to cure vampirism. I wondered whether they were based on scientific fact or just speculation. I’d never heard of it being possible and, I had to admit, didn’t know if any bloodsuckers out there would even want to be cured, but it would be interesting to find out. Not for the first time, I wished I had more time just to spend reading the books shelved here purely for academic interest instead of for some other nefarious purpose. Still, on the bright side, I did come across The Geography and Domestic Situation of the Vampyre. It was a pretty old tome, having been written around the turn of the nineteenth century, but I didn’t think that vampires were the sort of otherworld creature that often modernised so it was just possible that I’d find something of use even in that old book. Noting down the details on the card, and adding it to my list of books about Evocation, I finally closed the cabinet and went in search of the real texts themselves.

The Evocation ones were pretty easy to get hold of, and it took me little time to track down the ones that I thought might be useful. Carrying several in my arms, I deposited them over at the same table that I’d studied at the last time, again working on the premise that if I was doing everything within open sight then no-one would consider that I was doing anything at all suspicious. When I made it to the aisle that housed the vampire book I was looking for, there was an Initiate wearing red robes signaling her status as a fifth year. She gave me a curious glance, but fortunately did nothing more than that. In fact she didn’t even appear that nervous that I’d suddenly appeared right next to her. Maybe that was because by the time the Initiates reached that level, they possessed considerably more common sense than the others. I could only hope.

Trying to look as if I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing, I wandered down the tightly packed shelves until I found the area I was looking for. Crammed in between a treatise on the properties of garlic, and a history of Vlad the Impaler that I’d actually read before, was the Geography book. I managed to pull it out without doing either the book or myself injury then, hugging it to my chest, took it over to the table where the Evocation titles waited.

Settling down, I turned to the index where, triumphantly, I found the London lair listed. Then I flipped over to the right chapter and began to read. I discovered quickly that the vamps’ main nest was situated in an area called Kingsway in London. Back in the seventeenth century, the king at the time, William III, had been in a spot of financial bother thanks to wars with Ireland and the continent, and had introduced a window tax to help pay for his armies. The more windows your property had, the more tax you had to pay. Although the tariff itself had been wildly unpopular with the masses, it had given rise to some clever tax dodgers who had simply bricked up their windows in order to avoid having to cough up. This naturally worked perfectly for the bloodsuckers as they could block out the potentially harmful rays of sun without raising any eyebrows whatsoever. And, of course, in this day and age, keeping original detailing such as non-existent window frames was considered noble and thoughtful, so they could easily get away with not knocking out the bricks to install double glazing.

By all accounts, the house itself looked remarkably nondescript from the outside. Naturally this would be in keeping with the vamps’ desire to keep a low profile. For some reason those particular undead denizens of the Otherworld attracted more attention and speculation than any other, so staying out of view even more so than the other species was of paramount importance. From what I scanned through, however, the interior was an entirely different situation. Apparently the opulence and grandeur within was on an epic scale. I tried not to snort with laughter at how much that must sting with the frugal mages. The author of the book itself possessed an incredibly sniffy tone when detailing the gold leaf adorning the walls, and the filigree marking out the door details.

As interesting as all this was, it didn’t really offer much insight into where the Ancile/Palladium might actually be housed, or what security measures might be in place. There was a sentence or two describing a trophy room, which sounded like it might fit – either that or it potentially contained remnants of previous victims anyway. Although the vamps almost never killed anyone these days, there were certainly enough stories of what had transpired in days gone by to reach the ears of even the Cornish pack. I’d really been hoping for some kind of helpful map, with an X marking the spot of where the so-called treasure would be kept. Instead, I’d just have to do all my scouting when I actually got there. If I got there.

Closing the vamp book, having gleaned all the possible information from it that I possibly could, I tried to put it all out of my mind for the time being and do some real studying. The Evocation books offered lots of helpful tips and guidance for how to develop and progress in that discipline, and I ended up making copious notes for all sorts of things. None of it really involved anything practical, however. I had the sneaking suspicion that Evocation was something you either did or you didn’t, and that I would fall firmly into the latter category. By the time I was done, however, the sun was beginning to dip in the sky. That meant that I’d have to start thinking about what on earth I could do to suck up to Corrigan to get him to make me his date for the party itself. Completely out of ideas, I closed all the books and returned them to the shelves where I’d originally found them, then called out a loud and cheery goodbye to Slim, who’d somehow disappeared again in the intervening hours.

*

Managing to make it to the cafeteria for a proper sit down meal this time, I was again gratified to be joined by Mary and her friends. They were all still excited about the lesson we’d had that morning, which I’d actually completely forgotten about since with all of the revelations I’d had to deal with from Alex. They told me in hushed, thrilled tones about how they’d spent virtually all afternoon practising their attacks and their kicks, and how confident they all were that I’d be impressed with them. I found myself smiling indulgently, like some proud parent. Even Brock, the boy of little words, found it in himself to describe to me how exhilarating he’d found it when he’d managed to scissor kick, then punch, then spin and catch the side of his tree, all within a couple of heartbeats. I extracted a promise from them all that they wouldn’t do anything stupid like try to attack anything real, and they all solemnly agreed. Of Alex, there was no sign, however from across the room Thomas caught my eye and lifted up his water glass in a silent toast. I glowered at him, but then caught myself doing the same and raising up my own cup in return before taking a small sip too. Idiot. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">