Strange Aeons [Book 1]

15. Back to School [part I]

«Now, before I teleport back to a quite pissed off wife, kindly explain to me what the bloody hell happened.» Garaham said, apparently still not enough waken up by adrenaline to feel self-conscious in his night clothing, once they had safely reached Casa Pollos.

«No es nuestra culpa!» Chico opened the speech with energy. «We were doing what you asked us to do! We went to Perch Street to investigate the lair River entered, but Staccato left undead and explosives there!»

Before the frown that Garaham put on his face at the third syllable of his speech, Chico launched himself in a perfect recollection of the just passed evening. Uninterrupted, and sometimes slippering into a very romanticized version of the story, Chico completed his narration, expecting applauses. That obviously didn't come at all.

«This is bad.» Garaham said. «There is no way in hell I could report this incident to the Council, at all. Blair would want our heads, and Della Rovere too. They had just issued that order against public magic, and you went way overboard with that.»

«Hey! We didn't think that a group of animals would show up like that! How would they have known about that place anyway? Or that we would go there?» Chico protested.

«They have been casing the place.» Banshee finally reacted, shaking her head and pouring a glass of whisky, filled to the brim. «They moved in the streets like they knew them like the palm o' their hands. And they jumped on us in a matter of minutes since we got under Perch Street. They knew there would be an explosion, and they were waiting for us.»

«What the hell are you doing?» Garaham grumbled.

«I'm dehydrated from the run.»

Garaham looked at the glass in her hand, teleported it to the sink, emptied it, opened the faucet with magic, filled it back with water and teleported it back in her hand.

«Banshee, water. Water, Banshee. Now, rehydrate.» he said between his teeth, and turned towards Chico. «How sure are you that you weren't followed?»

«We no followed. I always drive as if I must lose tail.» Vopros answered, dryly, sipping his vodka with a smirk towards Banshee.

«But Chief, how would a D'Yves be a wereperson? Aren't they a mage family?» Chico asked, still trying to come to terms with everything that had happened. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was Eva's perfect face, turning into a cruel grin.

«Maybe it's like having that particular relative... I had a British uncle. Uncle Pete. Oh, family reunions were the best, but he was still family though.» Banshee pitched in.

«Magic is not passed down by blood. There are just a few things that are, like the powers connected to the Majestic Forces, the Leshrac's True Flame or the True Fright, for example, even if the latter jumps several generations. The D'Yves are a completely different matter: True Time is the only power connected to the Majestic Forces that can be taught, so the family adopts already kindled mages that they deem worthy of learning it. Obviously, there's a "cadet" D'Yves Family of not-mages that bear the surname nonetheless. Since the werepeople's curse is passed down by blood, it's not that incredible that a D'Yves could be one. It would explain how Eva is called Longbottom: probably her mother's the D'Yves and her father's the wereman.» Garaham explained, and everyone knew it was almost just for Banshee's benefit. «So, probably they're related and Justin is simply exploiting that for his own game.»

«A game he's playing with Staccato, though.» Chico pointed out. «There is no way in hell the werepeople would be there and didn't notice the undead. They would have smelt them from miles. They knew they were down there, but they were waiting for them to be bait.»

«Or, they thought that whatever mage put them there would be back to fetch them and we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. As always.» Banshee shrugged.

Garaham's expression changed, slightly, taking a darker tone in his voice and a darker light in his eyes. «I don't know if Staccato is in cahoots with Justin enough for all of this to be more than a conspiracy theory. But what I know is that, if werepeople are involved and Staccato knows, I can assure you River doesn't.»

«But he's his Enforcer. You know everything about what we do, especially if we have some kind of mission or assignment.» Chico moved towards the table, taking up his drink. Banshee, to everyone's amazement, was sticking with water.

«I could say many things about my brother. None of them contains even one positive feature. But one thing I must acknowledge: he would never do anything to go against the Order's best interest. He is an excellent Enforcer. Or, rather, he would be, if he wasn't a complete and utter wanker.» he paused, slightly, going back to his normal tone of voice. «And, put it as you like, to help out a werepeople task force to take out mages is exactly that. He would never be involved in something like this, nor let anyone under his care do. So, if Staccato's in it, either he's working behind my brother's back – and that is very likely, seen that he has a complete lack of brain cells – or he's controlling him somehow, and here we are moving towards dangerous conspiracy theory waters.»

«You Enforcers are, practically, little jars of Dispel magic. How in hell could anyone control your brother with magic?» Banshee asked.

«Maybe he no use magic.» Vopros pointed out, with a matter-of-fact tone that let everybody let the words sink in before answering. «Many ways to control man.»

«So, you think that River would flip if we showed him that his underling is bonding with the enemy?» Banshee asked, in a suddenly interested tone, that did nothing to light up Garaham's expression.

«I think that Staccato's working alone, without telling River, but not telling Irissa, either. She's still in the Academy, you know? Graduating this year.»

«Still? Don't Mages usually have to finish that shit before being launched in Covens, if they don't shine in any other field?» Banshee asked, sourly.

«She's already not particularly shining in anything, so, like her other colleagues in the mid-low grades category, has already been assigned and does half-half work and study.» Garaham explained. «So, I highly doubt Staccato could let her be privy to anything complex.»

«She kicked our asses badly in the Oneiron though. If she's in the mid-low grades...» Chico frowned. Banshee sighed.

«I think this reflects bad on our performance, rather than good on hers, mate.»

Chico shut his mouth.

«Listen.» Garaham massaged his eyes with two fingers, sleepiness starting to catch up with him as adrenaline subsided. «We have less than two weeks before the concert. Before then, we have to figure out this mess. So, sprint through this werepeople thing, but be on your guards. If Justin or Staccato have the power and the means to set them on your tails, you must beware. All right?»

The three nodded. The rush was seeping out of them as well, and everything they wanted now was just some sleep. At least two of them. Banshee's eyes were shining with a dangerous light.

The dangerous light of a plan.