Dreamwalker

18- Poisoned Love

Everything was dark and damp. Bell walked through an underground tunnel following a young man with a lantern. She couldn't recognize him at first but they were talking in low, serious voices while he held the lantern with one hand and a stack of notes in the other. "... tests haven't been going as we hoped, you see," the man said.

"What do you mean?" Bell asked. Her voice was a little lower and colder than usual.

"I mean the test subjects... you'll see what I mean. The experiments aren't going as well as I expected. The creatures are cooperating, yes, but the results... the results aren't."

"You told me that you succeeded."

"Technically, yes."

"Technically? Did you lie to me?"

The man sighed and turned around. The lamplight illuminated his strong jawline and dark glittering eyes. He looked like he was up to something sinister. Or, maybe that was just a permanent part of his stern demeanor. "I didn't lie, my Lord," he said. "Just come along. You need to see to understand."

He put his notes down on the floor and continued onward. A door came into light out of the seemingly infinite darkness, which he unlocked with a key from his pocket and swung open. Strange whimpers and screeches echoed from within. Bell flinched. The man must have noticed her discomfort because he took her hand to guide her forward. Once inside the chamber, the man closed the door. Bell gazed around in horror. Cells made of glass contained shifting globs of black goo, shining and bubbling like ink, black as the void. Sometimes shapes arose out of the puddles; clawing hands feeling the glass around them, mouths opening to scream, hunched backs shivering with pain. Bell couldn't help but feel pity for whatever they were.

"Are these--" Bell whispered.

"Yes. The carness in its true form. We have done it," the man said with a triumphant grin.

"They aren't-- are they alive?"

"Yes, they are alive, barely. We took away their physical form by bleeding them out. Distilling the blood gave us this black stuff. Pure magic. Look, I have a sample." The man left Bell to observe the carnesses while he searched a nearby shelf for a clear bottle with the familiar black liquid. He handed it to her.

Bell shook her head. "You told me that magic came in a different form."

"Well-- yes, and no. I believe my hypothesis is still correct even though we haven't managed to confirm it. This magic, you see, is dead."

"Dead? You think that magic is a conscious being?"

"When the carness this was taken from died, the magic dissolved and settled into this stuff. It seems to have a mind of its own but it can't do any harm as far as I know. Think of it as a corpse, a remnant of what used to be. It still holds power, yes, just a different kind of power."

Bell held up the bottle to her eye. Like the man said, it moved around a little on its own, shimmering like tar in the dim light. "Fascinating. Then the carnesses in the cages are--"

"Yes. They are dead. I'm anxious to collect so much magic at one time, however, in case it can fight back, so I'm leaving it in the cages for now."

"By the howling wind. You really have done it. It seems congratulations are in order." Bell held out her hand for the man to shake, but he chuckled and shook his head.