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cyr-frey · 1 year

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The Warlock Chapter 5 - The Captain

It was no earlier than 2 a.m. by the time I got home. Dealing with Grevane usually dragged on longer than I wanted it to, but that was a trade off for his usefulness. I had come away from this meeting with a deep sense of malaise, and I did not expect it to leave me any time soon. Restlessness I was used to. But I had a terrible feeling, like something dreadful was looming, waiting to crash down on my city.

My dreadful, awful, unwelcoming city. Though as much as the place seemed to hate me, it was still mine to protect.

I was looking forward to collapsing in my bed, although I had the suspicion that I would not be sleeping much. It was never difficult to tell when I was going to have a rough night. I had around a hundred years worth of rough nights under my belt, but that did not make getting through them much easier.

It seemed that Chicago had other plans for me. When I arrived at my house, the Captain was waiting for me. For my own sake, I hoped she had not been waiting long. I could at least be confident that I had not forgotten I was supposed to meet her, I rarely forgot about scheduled meetings. When she felt the need to turn up unannounced, it almost always meant there was something terrible going on.

“Good evening, Captain,” I greeted her as I walked up the front steps. She sat reclined on the lone chair I left on the porch, though I hardly ever sat in it. I usually was not home often or long enough to enjoy any sort of relaxation here.

“Evening, Morgan.” She did not bother with the title. “You’re home late.”

“It’s rare when I am home on time.” I unlocked and opened the door as the Captain rose from her seat. She did not look as tired as I had feared, but it was clear she had had a rough few days. “Please, come in,” I stood aside from the door so she could enter ahead of me. She murmured something under her breath as she strode inside, causing the candles in my living room to spring to life.

I followed, closing the door behind us. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked, and took a moment to hang my coat up before following her into the living room.

Anastasia did not answer right away. She looked briefly around the room, her gaze lingering on the still empty hearth for a moment or two. “I came to see how you were doing.” She settled into a chair, crossing one leg over the other. “You returned from Archangel at what time?”

“Early this morning, around 4 or 5 o’clock.”

“And how much sleep did you get before leaving Russia?”

I shrugged. “Enough.”

“Donald.” She gave me the same look I received when I was doing something foolish as an apprentice.

“...Maybe four hours. But four hours is better than no sleep at all.” There had been days when I had gotten less or no sleep the night before and I still performed my duties well enough.

The Captain sighed. “Better than none, but I would not classify it as ‘enough.’ And have you eaten?”

“Not yet, I had things to take care of at my office.”

She steepled her hands. “A starved Warden is a careless Warden. You know this.”

I bit my tongue and successfully did not point out to Captain Luccio that she frequently neglected food and sleep as well.

“How about I make something for us both, then?” I offered. This would not be the first time I had tried, sometimes successfully, to bribe Anastasia with food. Although it would probably be a little tougher this time; I had very little in my cupboards, given I had been in Russia for a week and in New England for a couple of days before that.

She raised an eyebrow, but did not argue. “If you wish.”

Anastasia stayed in her seat when I went into the kitchen. Taking stock of what I had on hand, I found it was absolutely abysmal. Sometime over the next day or two I would have to get groceries, provided there was not actually a vampire crawling around, a gang of idiot children trying to curse me, and Grevane chose to remain good-natured.

There was bread, at least. If nothing else, I could survive on toast. It would be far from the worst diet I had ever had. When I was in the trenches, it was moldy things from tins and rats, whenever I could catch them. When we were pitted against Kemmler, it was a steady diet of alcohol and occasionally cocaine. At least toast was not moldy, not something I had to kill myself, and not addictive.

Ultimately I settled on grilled cheese sandwiches. I was not particularly hungry, and they were simple and easy to keep down. As well as one of the few things I actually had the ingredients to make.

Anastasia appeared in the doorway and leaned against the frame as I gathered the ingredients.

“Coffee?” I asked.

“No,” she answered. “Not at this hour. I will take tea though, if you have any.”

“Of course.” I set both the kettle and a pan on the stove. “I hope a sandwich will suffice?”

I saw her nod out of the corner of my eye.

“Where have you come back from, just now?” Anastasia looked me over with an appraising eye. I was uninjured, and I could have been in a worse mood. As far as I was aware I was not neglecting any assignment she had given me. “And please do not tell me you are making a habit of getting home in the small hours of the morning.”

“No, you need not worry about that. I am usually home much earlier than this. I had a meeting with a contact of mine, they are going to look into a few things for me.” I paused, taking a moment to carefully choose my words. Lying to Anastasia was never my first choice, if it could be avoided, but I would land myself in a lot more trouble than Grevane was worth if I spoke plainly and told her exactly which contact I had met. “They are better at subtlety than I am, and it seems I might have a bit of a delicate situation on my hands.”

The Captain was quiet for a moment or two, though it felt much longer. She looked at me, and I did not meet her eye. We had soulgazed a long time ago, when I was still an apprentice, but it felt like it I met her gaze she would see right through me.

“As I said Donald, do not make a habit of it. You should really arrange earlier meetings, if you have to have them. And I do hope that your contact is reputable, someone who is not going to land you in a bad spot.” She almost certainly knew that there was a lot more to the situation than what I would tell her, but she did not press me any further.

Perhaps she could read my mind.

“I hope so too. But you really do not need to worry, I am very careful.” Nothing I said was a lie, not really. Regardless, I felt like I had made some sort of obvious misstep. I did not think she would guess the specific identity of my contact, but she was old and experienced enough to be able to divine that he was most certainly not reputable. He might have been one of the least reputable people I had ever met, in fact. She must have been feeling very merciful that night, she asked me no more questions about the meeting or with whom it had been.

“So, Donald,” she began, her tone changing from vaguely accusatory to vaguely concerned. “You have not yet told me how you are holding up.”

“I am holding up about as well as could be expected of me.”

“You seem a little better than that. If that were really the case I would probably be summoning a healer.” There was a distant suggestion of humor in her tone, a real rarity. While it was probably untrue, I felt like I could count the number of jokes I had ever heard Anastasia make on one hand.

“I suppose that is true. I am sober, and coherent, and able to stand.” I sighed. “Truly shocking.”

“Not really. You have grown.” She avoided using the word ‘healed’. “I am glad to see it. Ten or fifteen years ago, I believe you would have been in a much worse position. When I came here all I was really hoping for was that you would have the presence of mind to open the door.”

A dry chuckle escaped me. It was not unreasonable for her to assume I would be utterly plastered when she arrived, but I suppose she was right. I had grown in the past several decades. One of the perks of an unnaturally long life is you have plenty of time to overcome your bad habits.

“Truly, Donald. I do not expect the past few days have been easy on you. I am very happy to see that you are upright.” I was unsure how to respond; emotional honesty was not common among wardens, especially the old ones. Those of us that made it so far as myself or the Captain tend to keep everything neatly tucked away in the back of our minds until such a time as we can no longer manage it. I think most every warden has a period in their lives where they feel like they are laying at the bottom of a deep, dark, lonely hole that they cannot climb out of. Others had described the feeling to me as being trapped at the bottom of the ocean; crushing weight, breathless, completely helpless and utterly alone. I had gone through it myself shortly after we finally put Kemmler down, and it lasted a few years. Had I not been surrounded by a bunch of people just as, or perhaps even more stubborn as I am, I probably would not have made it out. We go through things for the Council that chip away at our souls, and eventually when there are too many pieces missing, it feels impossible to put it back together by yourself. It’s an occupational hazard.

I settled on a simple and polite “Thank you, Captain.”

She replied with a slight incline of her head, and changed the subject. I expect she was just as uncomfortable with vulnerability as I was, if not more.

“Well, what is your ‘delicate situation’? If there is something serious going on in your area, I would like to hear about it.” Back to a nice, safe, professional topic. We were both relieved.

“I am not entirely sure yet. Based on what little I know at the moment, it seems there might be a group of young wizards up to something foolish. I am hoping that, if that is really the case, they are all too young and uneducated to do anything serious.” The sandwiches having become a pleasant golden brown on either side, I set each one on a small plate and offered one to Anastasia. She accepted it with a murmured ‘Thank you,’ and retreated to the living room again.

Once we had both settled into our seats, Anastasia balanced her plate on her leg and set her tea aside. “Do be careful, Donald. Both of us know just how much harm foolish children can do if they decide to play God.”

“I know. That is why I am not chasing them down myself, I have some reason to believe they already have an idea of who I am. I do not know if they know anything about my wardens, though.” I began to nibble at my sandwich. I did not feel hungry at all, but I had to eat something.

Anastasia raised an eyebrow at me. She had also begun to nibble her sandwich. I suspected she was in a similar spot to me; tired, not hungry, but aware she had to eat else she would feel worse tomorrow. “What makes you think they know you already?”

“Abadi suspected something was going on, and he usually has a good sense about these things. And a young man, he said his name was Nhung, I believe, came by the base the other day. He brought that specific situation to my attention. He believes his younger brought is involved in something potentially dangerous. This is all the word of a strange young man though, so we can take it with a grain of salt for the moment.”

A strange expression appeared on Anastasia’s face. She did not say anything for a moment, but looked as if she was trying to recall something.

“Nhung, you said?” She laid the sandwich back on her plate. “That name sounds familiar.”

“I would not place him a day over twenty-five, he probably has not been a thorn in our side before. Could you be thinking of somebody else with the same name?”

“Do you think I have met a lot of people with that name, spending most of my time in Western Europe?”

“Alright, probably not very many. Somebody with a similar sounding name perhaps?”

She rolled her eyes. “Be wary of him. I do not like it when the names of strangers sound familiar. And I am sure I do not need to tell you that people appearing on your doorstep with magical problems are sometimes more than they appear at a glance.”

“I am being wary. Warden Maimon is still at the base, keeping an eye on the boy.” Sometimes I forgot where exactly I inherited a considerable amount of my paranoia from, but Anastasia was always quick to remind me.

“Good. I cannot place the name, but I shall contact you if it comes to me. Maybe, in the meantime, you should assign a second babysitter to him.”

“Do you have any specific concerns I should know about?” I set my plate on a side table, the sandwich about half finished.

“Nothing comes to mind immediately. I expect I would remember if he was a serious threat, but still. This whole situation makes me uneasy.”

Anastasia set her plate and unfinished sandwich aside as well before rising from her chair. She stretched, and the pop of her joints was audible from wher I sat. She knelt beside the hearth, placed a couple of logs into it, rolled up her sleeve, and then placed her hand on one of them. With a whispered word, the first sprang to life. Her hand stayed where it was for a few moments until the flames had produced a couple satisfactory crackles. When she withdrew from the fireplace, her skin was totally unburned.

As she rolled her sleeve back down, she settled beside me on the couch.

“I meant to ask you as well, how is Simon doing? We have not spoken in a couple of months. And the others at Archangel. Are they handling things.. well?” She reached over and picked up her tea again, taking a small sip of it. It must have been a little cold by then, but it did not seem to bother her.

“Simon is… He is managing.” I absentmindedly poked at one of the bruises he had left on my arm. “Difficult to say for sure how well, the old bear is much better at seeming alright than the rest of them are. None of them are doing terribly well but, I suppose it could be worse.”

“I suppose ‘managing’ is about as much as can be expected of any of you, right now. But I am glad to hear it. I was worried about the both of you, but I have not yet had the time to visit Simon.”

Guilt began to set in. Anastasia was being far more genuine than any of us normally were, and I was withholding a whole host of important information from her. Of course, there was not much of it that I could really tell her without there being serious consequences, or at the very least, without putting both of us in unnecessary danger. But perhaps it would not hurt to disclose a little more.

“I am sure he will appreciate it, when you do get the time. He is always glad to have visitors.”

“Visitors that he likes, that is,” Anastasia said. “He goes to great lengths to avoid visits from certain people.”

Both of us knew she was talking about Wizard Lafortier.

I gave a half-hearted laugh. There was too much on my mind for humor to have much of an effect.

“Donald?” Anastasia asked, ever perceptive when I did not want her to be. “What are you thinking?” I said nothing for a few moments, and she prodded me again. She only had so much patience for these types of things, and I am sure I was beginning to wear it thin. “It will do you good to talk about it, whatever it is.”

It took me another moment to find the words, but eventually I managed to string a sentence together. “I have learned a bit of troubling information about Justin - I am also taking it with a grain of salt, but, regardless.”

Anastasia sat up. “What is it?”

“My.. contact, believes that Justin was really… Involved in something he should not have been.”

“That is something you doubted before?”

I nodded. “I have known him for so long, Ana, how could I have known so little about him? It does not make sense - Surely, if he was really a warlock, there would have been signs, I would have noticed something .”

“You cannot blame yourself for DuMorne’s choices. He was a grown man, if he was a warlock then he knew what he was getting himself into.”

As much as I wanted to argue with her, I held my tongue. Information about black magic is safeguarded so seriously that barely any of us have any real idea of how it works. I did not really believe that Justin fully understood what he was getting himself into, if he was indeed into anything at all.

“He was apparently researching mind magic.” Which was something that had already come to light, thanks to Dresden. “And, I have no way to know if this is true or not yet, but apparently he may have… He may have been associated with a vampire.”

“A vampire?!”

“I do not know from which court, or who it was. Or even if that is true, but it is apparently a possibility. I do not know why they were associated either, if they even really were.”

Both of us were quiet for a little while. I am sure that revelation was just about as troubling to Anastasia as it was to me.

“Do you intend to investigate that matter further?” She asked, not looking directly at me. I think she already knew the answer.

“I have to,” I said. I could not let such a thing go unresolved, I had to know. “If it is false, then I owe it to Justin to prove as much. And, if it is true.. Then I owe it to that boy.” Anastasia, as far as I was aware, knew nothing about my friendship - friend felt like too strong of a word sometimes - with Margaret LeFay. Similarly, she knew nothing of my promise to make sure that Margaret's son did not meet a similar fate. I had decided several years ago that that was for the best, though.

“In that case,” she spoke slowly, taking time to choose her words. I could hardly be discouraged from pursuing real justice, there was no point trying to deter me. “You should go back to Russia, and ask Simon. If there is anyone in the Council who might know anything, it is him.” And I would rather you ask someone in the Council, than whatever idiot you were just out meeting, she left that part off, but I had known her long enough to guess at it.

I nodded. “Thank you. I will.” I paused to glance at my watch. The hour was late - or early, depending on how you looked at it. “If you wish, you are welcome to stay in the guest room for what remains of tonight.” I know I am not the only one who is terribly sleep-deprived. I left that part off as well, but I was confident she could figure it out.

“No, but thank you. I really should get back to Edinburgh as soon as I can, I have business I must attend to that I have been putting off for a little too long.” She glanced back at me. “If you need something, please do not hesitate to contact me. I would rather put off tasks than have to find a new Commander.”

I followed when she rose from the couch and went towards the door, and she looked back at me once she had slipped her boots back on. “And please do keep me updated on whatever is going on here. I am going to be in America for the next couple of weeks, so I will be around if anything goes seriously wrong.”

“Thank you, Captain. I will let you know if anything gets worse. And please do tell me if you remember where you know Nhung from, it may prove useful information.”

“Of course.” She opened the door. “Goodnight, Donald. Go to sleep.”

I chuckled. “Goodnight Captain. I will try.”

#donald morgan #the warlock round 2 #donald morgan/justin dumorne #anastasia luccio

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