Witch Hunter

Chapter Four: A Giant Disappointment

People flashed by in a kaleidoscope of colour. They pressed in around him, threatening to consume him, slow him down.

On either side of him, half a dozen Exorcists ran with him.

“Lucent! What should we do about the examination?”

“Leave it to the others, Tenfis,” he answered impatiently. “They only need a couple of us to tell them what to do.”

The usual commotion and never-ending verbal conflict between customer and salesman was punctuated by the rustling flap of seven heavy cloaks. They fanned out behind them as the Exorcists ran, creating a black, shadowy afterimage as they weaved between obstacles.

“Right!” he called out, suddenly.

Instantly, every Exorcist with him veered sharply to the right, breaking through the stampede of civilians into the disorientating calm of an empty street.

“It was around here ...”

Again, wordlessly following protocol, each one of the Exorcists froze, put a hand to their weapons and closed their eyes, reaching out for that tingle; that tension in the air. It was magic.

Like the charged atmosphere before a thunderstorm, like a tense confrontation and like a chilling experience of fear, magic, no matter how small, left subtle impressions on those nearby. It meant a witch could always be tracked.

“Left building, rooftop,” said Tenfis softly, and every other Exorcist except Lucent moved immediately.

Being of higher rank than Tenfis, Lucent ignored the command and hung back to observe their target. It was an old building, riddled with damp and most likely missing sections of its roof. If it was still in use, it would be a storage facility, and definitely not for any dry or precious goods. Most likely fish and other maritime products.

A smart choice, as the pungent smell would mask slight scents of magic by overwhelming one of the senses to confuse the others. The detection of magic was not something that could be quantified, it was felt, and thus it required a combination of all the senses, and maybe something a little more. Like a sixth sense. Or ...

“Coming, Lucent?”

He grinned. Tenfis had a knack for detecting magic. It was one of the reasons he put up with the incessantly cheerful character; it was not often that Lucent found someone that was better than him at anything.

“This building must have been a prime location for them; they used the smell to shield themselves. But I doubt we will find anyone. Anyone powerful enough to use that much magic would realise that we would notice it.”

“No harm checking,” said Tenfis with a grin. “I’ll send one up to the rooftop to examine the mark and the rest of us will look for anything useful in the building.”

Lucent nodded his approval, and moved towards the building. Stepping in, he had to all but shut down his sense of smell; the reek was so strong. If this warehouse had once stored fish, its wares had long since died, rotted and putrefied.

The light from the many gaps in the ceiling did little to illuminate the floor, but it was still possible to see more than a few steps away and every Exorcist had, or was meant to have, better senses than any average person. Personally, Lucent excelled at all senses. While it was dim to him, he could see all around him, and whatever he couldn’t see clearly, his mind supplied the missing information.

Boxes and crates were stacked and lined against the walls. Down the centre of the building ran two long troughs, no doubt to contain fish for sorting. They were spaced far enough apart for a ritual to be conducted between them, and if liquid was poured into the troughs, it would create a natural formation replicating the flow of water of a river. The presence of fish all around them would increase this effect.