 
PATIENCE

By Toby Causon

DEDICATION

To my family, girlfriend, and all other's who

have supported me through this endeavour.

Acknowledgements

Cover art by Shamsul Arifin

Contents

01. BLOOD, BLOOD EVERYWHERE

02. A SECRET SOCIETY

03. RIPPER STREET

04. FRIENDLY NEIGHBOURHOOD ZOMBIE NECROMANCER

05. THE FEARSOME FIVE

06. THE IMPERIUM

07. A SPARK OF MAGIC

08. THE RED HERRING

09. X MARKS THE SPOT

10. IVIS MONTAGUE

11. THE VAULT

12. CLAIRVOYANT TRICKERY

13. SEA OF SPIRITS

14. A VERY CUNNING RESCUE

15. PLOTTING FOR REVENGE

16. THE MOONLIGHT HOTEL

17. DULL FAMILY PARTIES

18. THERAPY FOR KENSUKE

19. THE JOURNAL

20. A GOOD NIGHT SLEEP

21. THE SCHISM COMPLEX

22. BOSS KILLING

23. SOUNDS OF SCREAMS

24. THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

25. TO SAVE THE WORLD

26. NO MERCY

27. BLOOD OF THE OLD ONES

28. QUIT WHILE YOU'RE A HEAD

29. NO REST FOR THE WICKED

1

BLOOD, BLOOD EVERYWHERE

Patience had never been bothered by blood. Her mum had always been squeamish, not even able to watch those mild surgery programmes, or even the violent action movies. It was just a natural fluid that came from the human body, after all. But as she looked in on her Uncle Bernard's upstairs hallway, blood everywhere, she realised that this wasn't natural. Not at all.

Her heart began to race as she looked out across the floor. Oh God. So much blood. She had just come round for one of her regular visits. There had been nothing to suggest that it would be any different to normal. No broken locks, nothing out of place, though as she reached the top of the stairs, she immediately saw signs of a disturbance.

She stepped on past the puddles of crimson liquid, moving into the study. Maybe she would be able to find some kind of clue as to what had happened.

Her eyes scanned the room, which had bookcases running along either side of the walls, and an ornate desk positioned in the centre. On the desk was a creased bit of paper, with a ring resting on top. It was silver with small, circular symbols scratched onto the surface. Patience noticed that the light reflected off it, giving the ring an appearance that it was glowing.

As she looked at the paper, she instantly recognised her uncle's sloppy handwriting scrawled across it.

She began to read the words, my dearest Patience, and felt tears pricking at her eyes.

I know I am your coolest uncle, well actually, I am your only uncle, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I am so incredibly cool.

If this was a message written in the thick of a break-in, he certainly had no sense of urgency.

But I regret to tell you that I have been keeping a secret from you. A secret that would no doubt have heightened my awesomeness to a level completely off the charts. There is a phenomenon that is only spoken about in fiction, something that exists in people's minds only as a fantasy. But I am here to tell you that magic is as real as anything else you've been brought up to believe.

She stared at the words for a long while, wondering what they meant. Hoping for some kind of hidden message in it all, surely it was code for something. It couldn't be true, he must be joking.

This magical life I've led has been kept a mystery from all of you, for your own protection. But it is no longer possible for me to follow down this course. They are coming, which puts you all in danger.

I've left you this ring. Put it on and it will protect you. Trust no one.

A tear dripped onto the page, sinking through the paper and smudging the ink. As it soaked in, she noticed something written on the other side, so she flipped the letter over and read the words that were intricately set on the page.

Bathe this letter in a bask of Moonlight.

What did that even mean? It seemed almost as cryptic as the letter, although in truth, it wasn't cryptic at all.... just impossible.

She sat there for a while thinking, until she heard a banging sound coming from downstairs. There were footsteps, and then a creak as someone stood on that noisy, old floorboard at the bottom of the stairs. They were making their way up. Patience gripped the letter tightly, screwing it up into a ball and stuffing it into her jeans pocket. Then she snatched up the ring.

The intruder had almost reached the top of the stairs, just out of view. She cursed herself for not shutting the door, it was hanging wide open leaving her in clear sight.

She didn't know for sure about anything her uncle had written, but one thing was certain, he had been taken by force, and it wasn't exactly a farfetched assumption to think that whoever had attacked him was now in the house.

Patience dived behind the desk just in time to see a man's boot walking along the corridor.

She remained still, not daring to make a single noise that could give away her position. But who was she kidding. This was the worst hiding place ever, even under a bed would have been more appropriate, and generic.

Her heart was drumming against her chest at an unnatural rate. His feet stopped at the very edge of the study entrance, the tip of his black boot not making it past the threshold. A sound like a rattling spring echoed through the building as the ground began to shake. The man didn't step into the room, it was as though there was some kind of invisible wall blocking his path. Whatever it was, she was grateful because it seemed to have saved her the pleasure of seeing her uncle's attacker up close.

Patience listened to his steady breathing, it seemed to quicken before he grunted and returned the way he came. She traced the sounds of his movement down the stairs, and the sliding shut of the front door. Why hadn't he come in? It bothered her as the thought lingered in her mind, but not as much as the prospect of the attacker still being downstairs. She was almost certain he was gone, but just to be sure she waited an extra half-hour, crouched behind the desk.

She stood up to leave, though, before doing so she balanced the ring in the centre of her palm. It felt cold, sending a sharp numbing sensation through the area around it, prickling at her skin. There was nothing for it but to obey her uncle, he seemed to have some kind of a bearing on the situation. She slipped it onto her finger, feeling a sense of weight as though it was far heavier than it actually looked.

Lightning erupted from outside like a giant explosion, followed by rain that beat firmly against the nearby glass, like hail.

Patience made her way downstairs without looking around. She went straight for the telephone, dialling nine-nine-nine and waiting for the tone. There was a hoarse beep sounding in her ear to indicate that it wasn't working. She slammed it down on the charging station and stepped away.

Everything was suddenly overwhelming her. Adrenaline had been enough to carry her this far, but as she looked down at the bloody footprints that she was leaving across the linen floor, she felt the reality of the situation come flooding back.

This is so messed up, she thought, Uncle Bernard was completely normal. He didn't get mixed up in this kind of thing. Maybe he'd been gambling in illegal casinos made by the mafia, or was a secret agent who had been kidnapped by Russian Terrorists that were planning to hold the country to ransom. There must be a logical explanation. Something other than... that thing which he said was real.

Patience stopped. Her heart stopped. Her breathing stopped. The ticking clock didn't stop, and neither did the subtle footsteps that were creeping up behind her.

She made a move to turn but large arms grabbed her from behind, holding her limbs firmly against her body. She tried to escape his grasp, tossing her foot backwards to try and make contact. He slipped a leg through the middle of hers and tripped her onto the ground. She landed hard, falling into an exceedingly ungraceful roll, though it did the job.

There was a knock at the door.

Patience dodged to the side into the kitchen, tearing open the drawers in search of knives, or anything sharp. There was nothing. Out of all the places Bernard meticulously organised, colour coded and alphabetised, his kitchen was not one of them.

She cursed, turning to the door where the man was just stepping through. This was her first good look at him. He had light brown hair like a birds nest draping from his scalp, and facial hair erecting from his chin, more like tiny pins really. His face was thin, only just on the right side of malnourished.

"Nowhere left to run," he growled, his cruel eyes scanning her up and down as he edged forwards.

There was another knock, a little more impatiently this time.

Patience let her hands wander across the counter behind her. Thin Man, (yes, that's what she would call him,) walked forwards. He began to reach out his hand towards her in a menacing manor.

Her fingers clasped hold of something, and she hurled the coffee container towards his face, smashing shards against his bare skin. He roared with pain, and Patience dodged past him into the living room as he picked out the pieces. Thin man stormed in after her, slipping slightly on the stripy rug, and moving closer.

More knocks, couldn't they tell she was busy – or in serious need of help.

She screamed as Thin Man kicked her to the floor and climbed on top of her, wrapping his hands around her throat. Her eyes widened with the shock of things. Everything had happened so fast, and now she was lying there as the world began to spin and her vision blurred. She was going to die.

A crash sounded to her side as she saw the door flying across the room and colliding with the back wall. In strolled a man, casually stepping into the living room and looking at the events in front of him.

Thin Man slackened his grip slightly allowing Patience a desperate gulp of air.

"Grim?" said Thin Man.

"You know me?" replied Grim, his dark hair lay neatly over his forehead, along with impressive sideburns. "I'm touched."

"We was warned about you," he said, a slight snarl to his voice, "he saids you were dangerous."

Grim leaned against the door frame, not even glancing down at Patience. "And who is this 'he' that you're speaking of? Is he as ugly as you?" Thin man clambered off Patience and rushed forwards, striking out with a right handed punch towards Grim's sternum. Grim knocked it aside with his forearm, and then drove his elbow into Thin Man's joint, causing a disgusting sound as his arm bent in an unnatural way.

Thin Man grimaced and jumped back. "You ain't gonna get away with this." His face contorted from a look of pain into that of absolute fury.

Grim rotated his hand, palm exposed upwards. Then with a flick of his fingers, a flame rose from his skin. It hovered there for a few seconds, curling into a small ball which he seemed to manipulate with his other hand. Then as Thin Man rushed forwards, he reared back and tossed the flame like a cricket bowler.

Thin Man fell to the ground, writhing in pain as his coat caught alight and began to spread to the rest of his body. He rolled around on the floor, though by the time the flames had died, he was only wearing a few slabs of blackened cloth.

Grim approached the man who was cowering on the floor, holding him by the collar and pulling his face close. "Tell me," he said, "what did you do with Bernard? And under who's orders?" Patience glowered slightly. It wasn't by chance that this man, Grim, passed by. He knew her uncle and had probably known something was going to happen to him.

Thin man coughed up blood. "I ain't gonna tell you nuthin." Grim clicked his fingers, once again producing that strange flame. Patience could feel the heat even from that distance. It wasn't fake, so how was he doing it?

"Alright, fine, just don' torch me again."

"Keep talking." He extinguished the flame by closing his hand into a fist.

"It was a man."

"Called?"

"He had a name."

"Which was?"

"His name was B...." The words seemed to catch in his throat, and it took Patience a moment to realise why. Thin Man had been wearing a gold chain around his neck. Before, it had dangled loosely, but now it acted as if it had a mind of its own. It pulled tightly against his neck, and no matter how much he tried, it wouldn't come off. Thin Man collapsed onto the ground, his head hanging loosely to the side and his cruel eyes softening as they stared at a patch on the roof. He had been strangled to death by his own jewellery.

"You killed him," cried Patience, resisting the urge to cup a hand to her mouth.

"Technically, it was this small contraption," said Grim, now able to easily slip the necklace from Thin (Dead) Man's neck. "It's a handy device that is designed to stop people from talking, fairly common unfortunately. The moment someone starts to give away details that the creator would rather keep a secret, it activates. And you can see the results for yourself."

She took the necklace in her own hands, rolling it over as she examined all sides. "How does it work?"

"I assume from that look of denial on your face when you saw the flame that you know about the existence of it, but refuse to fully accept it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Magic."

2

A SECRET SOCIETY

Patience felt herself becoming dizzy, so she leaned back against the sofa and let herself fall across its length. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, taking in a deep breath, and then opened once again. Grim was still standing over her with confused eyes as though he was wondering what exactly she was doing.

"I am real," he said, almost answering what she was thinking, "I know you'll be feeling slightly strange right now, a beating will do that to you."

"That's not it."

"Well what else could it be?"

Patience sighed. "You just told me that magic is real," she said, "which might I just add is crazy. I just don't appreciate this cruel joke that's being played on me."

He created a flame in his hand, and then lowered himself next to her. Patience had a look, searching for anything to disprove it. But there was no denying, it was magic.

It took a few moments to get over the realisation. Everything seemed to spin around her head, she was unable to comprehend any of it. It was impossible.

Pull yourself together, she thought, none of this is important. Well, of course it is, but right now she should be worrying about other things, like where her uncle had been taken off to. Maybe this, Grim, would be able to help her.

"Okay," she said, taking deep breaths and allowing her words to flow slowly while she gathered her thoughts, "let's just say that everything you say is true. You are obviously the good guy, or not hostile at least."

"That's a positive way to look at it."

"Which means that you can help me. My uncle's blood is all across the hall so he is obviously hurt, but there was no body. He could still be alive."

Grim nodded. "I agree that the possibility still remains."

"You talk strange. But in that case, we have to do something."

"Harsh, but yes the assumption could be made that we should probably deal with the situation." So it was decided, together they would find her uncle and save him from whatever fate awaited him, probably not a nice one.

She elected to take the lead. This guy might know more about the secret world her uncle had been hiding, or about detective work in general, but there wasn't a damn chance that she was going to hand this over to someone else and go on like nothing ever happened. Which is exactly what she told Grim.

"Okay."

"Wait.... what?"

"That's fine," he said, "I could use your help."

She narrowed her eyes. "Is this some kind of joke, because I've just discovered that magic is real. I'm ready to believe just about anything right now. And I've watched the movies, the savvy, old fella always 'reluctantly' takes on the apprentice. They learn to love each other despite their differences. But you're supposed to be reluctant."

"First, who're you calling old? Second, I hate to say it, but life is not like the movies. Sure, there is magic and awesome stuff that you would only normally find on the big screen, but things don't work in the same way. Here there is a real chance of being killed, these men won't hesitate to kill you."

"So you want to take me with you?"

"Want doesn't come into it. It's likely there are more people out there. It would be far too dangerous leaving you here on your own. You might hurt someone." She laughed, then, satisfied with his answer, she led him up the stairs to show him the hallway.

"I saw this, and then went into the study over there. On the table was a piece of paper explaining that magic was real and that he was in danger." Impulse caused her to leave out the fact that the ring was left as well, she had a strange feeling that Grim would take it away if he found out. She clenched her fist to better hide it. "Then a man, I guess that guy who attacked me, came up the stairs. I hid behind the desk and then he went away."

"Are you telling me he didn't even check behind the desk?" he asked, "it's like the most cliché hiding place in the history of hiding places – and oh, do they have a history."

"I know, that's what I thought. He just kinda walked up to the edge of the door and stopped." Grim stepped forwards, moving towards the study. When he reached the door frame, Patience heard a sound like clanging metal as he fell backwards onto the floor.

He climbed back to his feet, tracing the space between the door with his hands. "There is a protective barrier here," he said, "stopping anyone from getting through. This is probably what stopped him."

Patience stepped forward and slipped underneath his arm into the study.

"You were saying," she said, holding out her arms arrogantly.

"These protective barriers don't affect people of the same bloodline as the creator. So, Bernard must have made it."

"Obviously, it's his house."

"True, but for what purpose?" Patience stepped out of the barrier and stood by Grim. "Can I take a look at that note he left?"

"Sure." She handed it to him, his eyes scanning down the page in a matter of seconds. She pointed out the writing on the back.

"What does it mean?" he said, "it makes no sense. It seems like some kind of clue, but it is taking cryptic to a completely new level."

"Yeah, I know," she said, "Scooby-doo never got any hard clues like that."

"Well his adversaries are always men in costumes. We are facing a very real threat, there are people who can literally level cities if they want too. Patience, that's your name right?"

"How did you know?"

"Bernard always spoke about you, something about being his favourite niece." She smiled, agreeing with her uncle's judgement. "But also warning me that you have a serious mouth on you."

"Well at least my ears don't make me look like a baby elephant."

"My point precisely," he said, almost fondly, "Patience, I think you better take a ride with me."

"Where are we going?"

"We're gonna follow the trail."

Patience nodded. Her brain was telling her that in no way should she go with this man, but her child-like thirst for adventure got the better of her. She'd been presented with a world of magic, no way was she going to turn her back on that. It was like all her good dreams packed into one, like being in a blockbuster movie. It was amazing.

They went outside, and Patience noticed the black Mercedes, which hadn't been parked there when she arrived. It was four seated, but streamlined like a sports car. She climbed into the passenger side, screwing her backside into the comfy leather chairs. Grim climbed into the driver seat.

"Patience, say hello to Bessy." She turned around and looked at each seat in turn.

"Where?"

"You're sat in her."

She eyed the leather beneath her. "You mean the seat?"

"Of course not. That would be ridiculous. I meant the car."

"Bessy is the car?"

"You really are taking a while to grasp this concept," he said, "yes, I name my car. It stops me feeling lonely on long journeys."

"You really are sad."

"So people tell me."

He put 'Bessy' into gear, and set off down the road. They weaved in and out of traffic at an alarming pace. For a moment she thought they were invisible to the 'normal' people. But then a man in a van rolled down his window and shouted, "learn to drive you moron."

Grim stuck his head out and replied. "I know the girl looks a little on the dumb side, but moron is a bit harsh."He returned his head to the safety of the car just in time to make a sharp turn, narrowly brushing the hedge that lay on the corner.

"So," said Patience, lingering on the word as she tried to find a way to break the silence, "what do you do in this world of magic? What's your role? Who are you exactly?"

Grim kept his eyes on the road, but seemed amused by her questioning. "As you know, my name is Grim. You could say that I work for the government, and I have a job that entails a lot of different roles."

"Such as?"

"Well my main job is to essentially keep the existence of the magical community a secret from the mortals, you know, the normal people."

"You're kind of failing at that," she pointed out, "I know about it."

"Yes, well, that's one way of seeing it. The job involves many things, sometimes some detective work as we hunt down magical murderers before the mortal police catch up with them. We cover up everything by creating artificial crime scenes, and in the most dire of circumstances, I enlist the help of another sorcerer to wipe the memories of the mortals who have discovered us."

Her heart began to beat faster, maybe he was taking her to this sorcerer so that her memory could be wiped, before being returned to a normal life. "Are you going to wipe my memory?" she said at last.

"Nope, sorry. Not allowed to do that."

"Why not?"

"It's the laws of nature. Common practice restricts us from manipulating the memories of a mortal if it was a member of their bloodline that told them. While it's not recommended, sometimes sorcerers choose to tell their family what they are. In those cases, we can't interfere."

"Oh," she said happily, "is it possible for me to do magic?"

Grim sighed. "What is this, an interrogation? Fine, well it's possible. Everyone has magical energy inside them, just some have more of it than others. You come from a magical family so it is highly possible."

"Great, how?"

"It's not as simple as that. Only the Old Ones were able to use magic in its raw form, but they haven't been around since the Great War. Now we utilise wands to channel that energy into something we can use."

"Wands?"

"It's not in the traditional sense. It could be anything, I use a glove." He showed her his black fingerless gloves. "But sometimes there are staffs, spoons and also rings." She felt herself shrink into the seat as she grabbed a handful of her jacket to hide the ring that was still on her finger. Had her uncle given her a wand?

She had to change the subject. "What type of magic is there? What can you do?"

"Generally sorcerers fall into a category, you don't perform all types of magic as you're only wired for one. There are elementals, who control the elements, obviously. Clairvoyants who have psychic abilities, and can sometimes see into the future. Necromancers who gain power from death and use what is known as shadow magic. Energy throwers who can store energy from any source and release it as a powerful beam, and finally there is adaptives."

"What's that?"

"Well it is simply everything else. An 'other' category, if you will."

"Are you telling me that the person who made up the classification system got bored half way through and just said, 'screw it, adaptive is everything else', and goes home for an early retirement."

"Pretty much, but you have to understand that it's a daunting task, there are unlimited types of magic, some that we don't even know about. Plus, the man was really lazy so we expected nothing less."

She laughed.

Rain dripped down the side of the window. She didn't know what time it was because Bessy's clock was wrong, but it was getting late. She worried that her parents would miss her. Who was she kidding?

All she ever did is sit in her room watching classic action movies, they would never know if she was in or out. They would just assume in, and not bother her in fear of having their head bitten off by teenage hormones.

"What about that Great War?" she asked, "I wouldn't normally have described a war as great."

Grim's face became serious. "Oh, it wasn't. It must have been a good hundred years ago now. It was a secret war in which two sides of sorcerers fought bloody battles against each other. One side wanting to kill and enslave mortals, and the other wanted to coexist with them, maybe even protect them. The enslaving side was led by the last Old One, Diabolus."

"What's an Old One?"

"They were the first sorcerers, extremely powerful people that are now dead, but were sometimes mistaken for Gods. People worshipped them, or were killed."

"That's horrible."

"It was. That was a very devastating war."

Patience wanted to change the subject once again. There was something about the talk of wars which sent chills through her, just images of dead bodies lining the street, and blood everywhere. It seemed to accentuate the dark side of the magical world. Maybe it wasn't as much of a dream-land as she thought.

"Where are we going anyway?" she asked.

"To see a friend of mine," he replied, "he has the ability to spirit walk. So, he will be able to tell us if Bernard is still alive, or not." She fell silent, soon she would know the truth. She just hoped the results were good, and that Grim wouldn't send her home to live a normal life once they were done.

3

RIPPER STREET

Jack

At eleven-o-clock that evening, the tides had come in and a pleasant breeze was being pushed inland.

Darkness had invaded the sunlight, with twisting shadows covering the ground like sinister patterns, and the only light that was being cast were the thin threads from the low hanging moon, along with the dim yellow glow of nearby street lamps.

Jack sat and listened as footsteps knocked against the promenade. He had become practiced at identifying a person just by the sounds of their footsteps, but something compelled him to take a glance anyway. The source of the sound was coming from a young woman with long red hair like flowing fire.

She passed by the railing and stopped at the bench that he was sat at. Her dazzling, green eyes glazed over him as she lifted her coat and sat beside him.

She looked him up and down, though he reckoned most of his features were still covered by the thick trench coat that he wore: his small yellow eyes and his thin, chalk white body that seemed to reveal every bone in his body, almost like a skeleton.

"It's a nice view," she said, resting her leg lazily against her knee, "do you come here often?" Her voice was soft but assertive, he would make no assumptions as to what kind of woman she was.

"Sometimes," he said, his voice sounding like a cold rasp as though he had only just learned to talk and was still getting used to the vibrating sounds as it broke from his lips, "when the fancy takes me."

"Sorry," she said, "that was a pointless question. I know you come here often, every night in fact."

Jack rotated his head so that his eyes intruded hers. She didn't remove her stare. His hat was still hanging low over his face, but he was sure she could see his thin lips twist into a look of anger. "You been following me?"

"I don't need to," she replied, "you're ever so predictable."

He blinked. "Seems I better change my habits then."

"Seems you should."

The woman raised her mouth into a smile, a dangerously beautiful smile that would have filled any lesser man with dread. But not Jack, he wouldn't be fooled by anyone. Let alone this red-head.

"Would that new routine happen to involve shared showers, twenty-four hour guard patrols and iron bars between me and my.... victims."

She smiled. "Maybe, or maybe it would in fact be freeing you from the leash of those constraints and allowing you to roam around like the little monster you are." Jack didn't reply. He sat very still. The muscles that lined his arms began to tense as he gritted his teeth, his hands curling into fists.

"Tell me your name, missy."

"You can cut the charm straight away, Mr Ripper. I'm not that kind of girl." For the first time his lips twisted into a cruel smile, showing her the small interlocked teeth that filled his mouth.

"Please, call me Jack."

"I'm fine with Mr Ripper actually, saves this from getting personal."

He flexed his fingers. "So, what are you? Some kind o' copper?"

"You could say that," she said, "wouldn't mean you're right though. I've heard a lot about you, Jack Ripper. Two dozen severe cases of grievous bodily harm, and far too many murder sprees for me to count on one hand. Am I missing anything?"

"I did also steal a box of donuts when I was a young'un."

The woman's face remained stern as though she hadn't even registered what he said. "I have to say, Mr Ripper. After hearing all that, then meeting you, I am thoroughly disappointed."

"They say you should never meet your idols," he said with a slight chuckle, though a part of him was hurt by what she said, "you can always rely on them being a disappointment. But perhaps I can do some to qualm these feelings of yours. Why don't I give you a taste of Jack the Ripper."

"I'd rather it if you just came with me quietly and met my employer."

Jack stood up to his full height, letting the coat slip away from his body as he flicked the hat onto the ground with a quick nod of his head. Now, the woman could see his full form: his thin skeletal body which was held together by a thin layer of white skin, almost transparent. He waited for her look of fear, but it never came.

"You never did gimme your name, darlin."

She smiled. "Viper," she said, her voice not wavering with fear but instead reaching peaks of excitement, "and I must insist, Mr Ripper, that you come with me."

"I don't think that will be happening," he said, his grin becoming wider as his mouth reached literally from ear to ear, "I'll be seein' ya." Viper sprung up from her seat but she was too slow, he was already gone. Bounding down the road at a ridiculous speed, moving on all fours like a sprinting cheetah. He heard people scream but he just ignored them. They were his play things, his victims to have fun with.

Each and every person in this city would die at his hand. He was just saving them for later.

Jack turned down a dark alley and then tossed himself into the air, bounced off the walls and pulled himself up onto the side of the building with an inhuman strength. He didn't even break momentum as he ran across the rooftops, soaring over the gaps like they were mere blips rather than massive, gaping holes.

Eventually, he decided that he had probably lost her. No way could any normal person keep up with him, not even some magical sorcerer. He could sense magic. While he may not have a masterful control of it himself, he knows magic when he sees it, and she certainly had a lot of it. He wondered what she could do, though whatever it was, he wouldn't find out.

He looked down to find that the streets were still sparse. In an ideal world he would be able to hunt in broad daylight while the streets were packed, but it just wasn't safe. He would have to settle with picking strays off one by one under the cover of darkness.

He found his target, fixed his eyes on her and began to slip across the rooftops, following her as she walked across the street. His feet skidded to a halt at the edge of the building. The whole city was silent, it was haunting in a relaxing kind of way. Perfect time for a murder, especially now that he had been rattled by that lady and had some anger to expel.

Jack wiped his face clean of sweat before hearing a sound pulsate across the entirety of this urban maze.

"Stop it," cried a female voice, "have mercy." He scanned her voice and identified her as a twenty-five year old woman, smoked by the smell of her. She must be close.

He decided to leave the woman below him and change his course. This was his city, everyone was his victim and his alone. No one was allowed to steal his toys.

With a burst of adrenaline, he dived over the edge, using his thick boots to slide down its edge. He took an extra moment to listen for the voice, adjusted his course and began to follow. The voice was still crying out, he wasn't sure that he would get there on time. If she was dead, then he would need to take a life in retribution. It was only fair.

Jack stopped at a door. No signs of a break-in, but then again, experts never did leave a trail. He pulled his foot back, tensed his muscles and then kicked the door open with a loud bang.

"Anybody here?" he called, but no reply, "I'm sorry if this is the wrong house. I would happily pay to reimburse the door that I just shattered, but seriously, get a stronger door." He was lying of course. If there happened to be someone still alive in the house, he couldn't risk her seeing him and being let loose. They would be killed quickly, and partially painlessly.

He made his way into the house, reaching the kitchen. Either someone had spilled a hell of a lot of red paint, or someone was bleeding. Jack had killed enough people to know that the owner of that blood was most likely dead, or on the cusp. He rushed into the room to find the body of the woman lying in a pool of her own blood, her throat was sliced open and her eyes were staring dully upwards. "I'm sorry," he said,

"wish I coulda killed you myself." He climbed the stairs and entered the only door which was left wide open.

"You were too slow," said Viper, "bet no one has ever told you that before." Her back was facing Jack as she looked out the window, watching the waves overlapping each other repeatedly. "If you had been faster you might have got to enjoy that kill yourself. But you weren't, so you merely got to be an admirer of the art, rather than the artist yourself."

"Why did you kill her?" he said, "why steal her from me?"

She laughed. "Why are you so annoyed about a death of someone who you would have killed eventually anyway? I know your MO, Jack. I wanted to talk to you again, to change your mind." No one spoke, and she continued to stare out the window. "There's a storm coming."

Jack frowned. "A storm coming? You mean soon something's going to happen, your employers going to do something?."

Finally, Viper did turn. Her body was painted in thick blood, as were the two katanas that lay in each scabbard. "You misread me, Mr Ripper," she said, "I was being literal. There's a storm coming."

Sure enough, the heavens opened and rain began to pound against the outside of the glass. Jack blushed.

"Oh, I see."

"But in answer to your question, yes, there is a larger plan in motion. And I wish to see you helping it along also."

"No one tells me what to do."

Viper drew her swords in one fluid movement. "Then I'm afraid, I can't let you continue in this city. My employer expects results, and those who deny him normally end up in a ditch someplace."

Jack stepped forward confidently, positioning his forehead an inch away from the tip of her outstretched sword. His mouth twisted into a smile.

He jumped upwards, grabbed onto the overhanging light and flicked his foot up to make contact with her face. She slammed back into the wall, all the breath knocked out of her. But she quickly recovered, dodging his incoming attacks.

Viper grunted in frustration, countering one of his blows with a swipe of the sword. He dodged over it, using his own counter to which she easily swatted away. He could tell they were evenly matched. Only one of them was going to make it out alive.

Jack slid his hands beneath the bed and heaved upwards, flailing it through the air towards Viper. She dodged to the side like a blur, jumping into a kick and sending him swirling into the door. He climbed up and desperately reached for the handle, but a hand gripped onto his shoulder and dragged him back onto the floor.

"It's over," she said, clearly out of breath, her sword pointing at his heart. He dared not move.

"Might want to reconsider that," he said, "turns out, I am interested in helping you. What would the job entail?"

As she smiled, Jack could see her forked tongue lick her lips. "Very good, Mr Ripper, and we have a job suited to your toolkit. It would involve killing, a great deal of it. As I've heard it, you enjoy that particular past-time very much."

"You are certainly well informed."

"So, we have a deal?"

"I believe we do." They shook hands, and it was agreed.

4

FRIENDLY NEIGHBOURHOOD ZOMBIE

NECROMANCER

As Patience sat in the car alone, she wondered where her uncle was at that exact point in time. She very much doubted it involved any cushioned chairs, hot chocolate with marshmallows or Saturday night television shows – especially considering it was a Tuesday.

Grim opened the door, sat down and dropped something onto Patience's lap. She picked it up and examined the crisp packet.

"Thought I'd get you a little snack," said Grim, "you mortals get hungry quicker than we do."

Patience widened her eyes. "What is this?"

He waited until he had set off down the road before replying. "Well... it's a packet of crisps, salt and vinegar flavour."

"Grim, you can't just buy a teenage girl a packet of crisps," she said.

"Most people just say thank you."

"Do you know how many calories are in this thing? Girls my age are so obsessed with their weight that any amount of calories being thrown at them could lower their self-confidence into the ground."

"Are you worried?"

Patience scowled. "No, but only because I already know I'm beautiful."

"I see." The conversation seemed to end as the crisps hung in front of her. She dared not touch them in case Grim took it as an indicator that he was right. But he had truly been right about one thing, she was hungry. The crisps seemed to taunt her, crying out to be placed in her mouth, to quench the pains that were building up. Finally, she gave up and opened the packet.

"Hey," she groaned, "this is half empty."

Grim raised his hand. "Nah, you're looking at it all wrong. It is actually half full, if you think about it."

"I hate you."

"See, positive attitudes can lead you in spectacular new directions." Patience suppressed a smile, trying to keep with the moany teenage girl aesthetic.

They pulled up outside an ordinary looking house that stood in the approximate location of the middle of nowhere. It seemed like a cul-de-sac of rundown buildings that the government had just accidentally forgotten about. If she was directing a horror movie, she would probably choose a street identical to this one, it had most of the clichés down.

You'd think a person with magic would be able to learn a spell to fix windows, or at least use the magic of the phone- book to find someone else to do it for them.

Grim stopped her before they climbed to the front door. "Okay, just a few things before we meet him,"

he said, "so as I mentioned, my friend is a necromancer and will be able to use his ability of spirit walking to find out if your uncle is still alive. But a few warnings, he isn't the happiest of people, in fact if you spend too much time around him then you would probably develop some form of depression."

"Then why are you friends with him?"

"Well it's just funny how someone can be so serious. I just laugh at him, but he's used to it by now. I wouldn't do it though if you can help it, he might take it personally."

"Why?"

"Well he has his reasons for being a little gloomy. Oh, and don't stare."

Patience grabbed Grim before he could move. "What's his name?"

"Dave."

"His name is Dave?"

Grim lowered his eyes and looked as though she had just insulted his friend. "What's wrong with that?"

"Well, it's just that sorcerers seem to have cool names like Grim and Diabolus. I mean, what the hell, Dave?"

He chuckled to himself. "I'm just messing. His name is Mortus." He must have thought that Patience was satisfied with a more unusual name because he followed the stairs up to the front door.

The door was tall and wooden, with a metal knocker in the shape of a skull. When Grim touched it he shied away, probably from the cold, before gripping it tightly and letting gravity pull it into contact with the door. There was a loud echo so that even Patience could make out the vibrations throughout the house, and then there was the clear sounds of large boots against wood before a dark shape appeared behind the misted glass of the door window. The door slowly opened, and Patience opened her mouth in shock before quickly returning to a neutral face.

"Dave!"

Mortus narrowed his eyes. "You said you were not going to call me that again."

"So I did." They both paused to look at Patience, who was completely silent and looking as though she was in some kind of trance. Her eyes were fixed on Mortus and his unusual appearance.

His skin was as white as a sheet of paper. His face was extremely gaunt with all the bones in his face not being hidden by the thin skin. At first she thought he was a skeleton, but he was too thick. However, there were scars all over his body, and open wounds on the base of his head.

"Are you a vampire?" cried Patience, horrified.

Grim held up his hand defensively as though that was an insult to his friend. "No, God no. Vampires are much worse. If you were trying to attach Mortus to some kind of fantasy creature, then he would be mostly akin to a zombie."

Mortus lay his head onto his palm. "I'm not a zombie, just a man who died and somehow came back from the dead."

"That means you're a zombie," argued Patience, "that is the exact definition of what a zombie is."

"I'm not a zombie."

Grim stepped forward. "Anyway, the point isn't whether Mortus is a zombie or not – which he is. Right now we are more interested in his powers. Mortus is very unique actually in the way his powers work, because usually a necromancer would gain power off things that are dead. Possibly summoning spirits or hanging around corpses, but Mortus doesn't need to do that as he is dead himself, so he can use himself as a power outlet."

"Like solar power?"

"Kind of, and yet even this is dipping the boot into the realms of irrelevance." He turned to Mortus.

"Bernard has been kidnapped, we were wondering if you would be able to go into the spirit world and see if he is still alive."

Mortus thought for a moment. "Bernard's been kidnapped? Damn. Alright, I don't normally do this but I will make one exception, courtesy to a friend and all that." He turned back into his house. "Just to be clear, the friend I was referring to was Bernard..... not you." They followed him in.

It was even more uninviting on the inside than the out. Lights flickered like candles, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Most of the wallpapers were bland and tearing off, and pictures that depicted death and destruction encrusted most of its surface.

They turned off into a room which Patience assumed was the basement, and not surprisingly, it was dark down there. She climbed down the stairs and met with the other two who were already standing in the middle of the room. It was very empty, even when Mortus lit a candle and fitted it into the hanging chandelier above. She didn't understand what they were doing here.

"Okay," said Mortus, "I need the two of you to be very quiet once I have entered the state, any disturbances could wake me, and then you will never find out what you need." Grim nodded and Patience muttered a brief agreement. "Alright then, I will begin."

He knelt on the floor and bowed his head slightly, closing his eyes and placing the bottoms of his palms to the ground. For a moment he was still, but then his body suddenly became rigid as his muscles tensed and his face contorted with pain for a brief moment. It didn't look comfortable at all. Ignoring his previous comment, Patience shuffled backwards away from him, an overwhelming sense that she was being watched flooding over her.

She held back her gasp as the candle blew out and mist filled the room. Grim remained still, so she copied, praying that there was no real danger here. Voices seemed to be talking from within her head like small creatures living inside her. She wondered if they were ghosts, the spirits of the deceased floating around her. It must be extraordinary to be spirit walking like Mortus, he could actually see the spirits as they passed over to the other side. Scary. But fascinating.

The voices stopped chattering and the mist drifted into an empty space before fading completely into nothingness. Mortus opened his eyes, though Patience couldn't read them. Was Bernard alive? Or had Mortus seen him passing over?

Grim looked serious. "What did you see?"

He paused a moment before talking as though he was gathering his thoughts. It must be quite disorientating returning to the mortal world like that. A lot of different conditions to get used to.

"He is alive," he said finally, "or at least his spirit hasn't passed through."

"Thank God," said Patience, relief spreading over her. Maybe there was still a chance of saving him.

"But that's not all," he said, standing up and facing Grim, though his eyes kept glancing nervously at Patience, "I asked around to see if anyone knew anything about it, and there was a man who had recently crossed over."

"What did he say?" said Grim.

"There is a sorcerer called Mr Big who has sent out a contract for Patience. I expect that he is the same man who abducted Bernard, he seemed quite annoyed about his master murdering him with that necklace."

Patience tried to speak, but her mouth had gone exceptionally dry, so, Grim spoke up instead.

"This is troubling. Why is her family being targeted like this?"

"I'm not sure. Either way, you have to be careful. Apparently he alerted everyone, the top assassins to the craziest thugs, everyone will be after you." Her hands were shaking by her side. All of a sudden this beautiful and magical world that she had just been dragged into was suddenly deciding to rear its ugly head. It lured her in with a false sense of majesty, and now it was going to hook her like a fish and beat her to death. Maybe she was being a little graphic. Not that it mattered, she feared that she would soon be facing death, and there wasn't much anyone could do about it.

"Patience, are you okay?" said Grim, she had only just realised that they were both staring at her. She must have looked like a right freak.

"Yeah, m'fine," she mumbled, "seriously, stop worrying." She wasn't convincing anyone, let alone herself. Her mind just kept jumping towards the possibilities. Would they torture her, make it quick, or bring her to this 'Mr Big'? She wasn't sure which option she liked best, so the only thing she could hope for was an extra choice. Live.

Mortus looked at her deeply as though he was staring into her soul. "Are you sure?" he said, "you look a little pale."

"You're the one talking."

"Well, I was brutally killed, woke up in a coffin and dragged myself out by clawing my way through ten feet of dirt with my bare hands. So, I think I have an excuse?"

"I've just been told that every killer in the magical world is gonna be after me," she said, "is that not justified as well?"

"I suppose it is."

Grim wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Look, I'm not going to let them harm you, alright. Just stay calm and.... why are you looking at me funny?"

"Just you," she laughed, attempting to forget about the almost inevitable death, "trying to be all caring, it's funny, and incredibly patronising."

"Oh, sorry."

"Come on you big softy," she said, leading the way, "let's go get my uncle, kick this Mr Big off the face of the planet and be back in time for tea."

Grim frowned. "Considering we were supposed to eat tea at least an hour ago, I find it highly unlikely we will get all that done before then."

"It's a figure of speech."

They climbed into Bessy and drove off, leaving Mortus standing in the doorway watching them drive away. His expression was still lacking any emotion, or maybe she was just bad at reading people.

Somehow that seemed very likely, which made her wonder if she was even able to trust these people.

She'd be lying if she said she hadn't put her faith in the wrong people before. It was likely to happen again.

5

THE FEARSOME FIVE

Patience sat on her phone flicking angry birds towards a structure, watching it crumble before repeating the process. It proved to be immensely satisfying, in a barbaric sort of way.

She looked up. It was impossible to see far ahead. It was like a wall of darkness was hanging over them, even with their headlights on Patience could only make out the repetitive lines on the road in front of them. Grim still kept his foot almost to the ground, glancing in her general direction occasionally to see how many tries it had taken her to destroy the structure.

"You're getting worse," he said.

Patience scowled. "Well maybe if you slowed down a little I might actually be able to concentrate."

"So I'm going a little fast."

"A little? You're going forty over the speed limit in pitch blackness."

Grim chuckled to himself, looking at the speedometer almost as though he saw it as a challenge. "Who follows the speed limit anyway? In fact, I see them more as a guideline that normal people, who don't have my particular skills, should go at to remain safe. But it's fine for people like me."

"No," said Patience, "I'm pretty certain the speed limit IS A LAW." She snapped her phone shut and dropped it into the little compartment by her feet.

Grim glanced over, saw her sullen expression and slowed down slightly. "Fine... happy now? It's not like there are even any cars out here." He slid around a corner. "Hey, look, a car."

Lights appeared behind them, rising out of the darkness as their headlamps invaded their space. In fact, as it got closer she realised that it wasn't a car, but a minivan. Strange thing to be driving at this time of night.

Wheels skidded, and the minivan kept close behind. Each turn they took it seemed to be right on them.

"You know," said Grim, "I think they might be following us." As soon as he spoke, a sound like a cannon erupted from behind them. Patience covered her ears and ducked her head, only looking up to see the circular hole that had been torn through the windscreen. Another bullet rattled towards them, hitting the side of the car.

"My poor Bessy," moaned Grim, swerving across the road like he was weaving around obstacles.

Patience gripped the side of her seat tightly, almost tearing a piece out.

"Go faster then!" she screamed.

"You were the one who told me to slow down."

"We were driving on a pitch black road with no threat of danger.... now we're being shot at. I think the circumstances changed!"

Grim sighed. "You're so pedantic." His foot reached the floor within seconds, gear changed, and then sped off forwards. She didn't know much about cars, but she knew enough to realise a minivan wasn't the best for a car chase. There was a reason you never saw any of the great action heroes cruising around in a minivan, that would be ridiculous. Which made her surprise even greater when she saw a blinding flash of light to their side. The minivan crashed into the side of Bessy, rolling them over until they were the right way up.

"I think they popped a tyre."

"Never mind about that.... what're we going to do?"

Grim undid the seatbelt. "I have a plan. It might be crazy, some would say suicidal, but it's the best I've got."

"What is it?"

"Well we go out and talk to them." Reluctantly, Patience climbed out her side of the car and joined Grim at the back, ignoring his cries of horror at the sight of Bessy all broken at the side of the road.

Five men climbed out the minivan, all forming one straight line at the front. Their stares were enough to say they weren't there to sell cookies. Patience really wanted a cookie right now.

"This was a bad idea," said Grim. They began to walk forwards. "Probably a really really bad idea. I didn't know there were five of them."

"They were driving a minivan," scolded Patience, "if you only have two people, you don't drive a minivan." Grim scratched his head, possibly realising the mistake he had made while considering if they should still attempt to talk to them. They could get back in Bessy, but they had probably already seen them.

Oh, who was she kidding. Of course they've seen them.

A short man stepped up, wearing a sharp suit and a flat wig, he was by far the least scary out of all of them. His face was sinister though. It looked more like a frog than a human, all screwed up, and stuck into the shape of a single expression.

He straightened his tie. "Mr Grim, as the leader of this little entourage we call, 'the sinister six', I would request that you come with us, quietly."

Patience squinted in confusion. "But there's only five of you."

The man looked around as though he hadn't noticed. "Indeed. One of our members has deserted us. So, I suppose we will be needing a new name. Could you excuse us for a moment?"

"By all means." The man retreated back to his friends, they all huddled together before he slowly stepped forward again.

"As of now, we will be known as the fearsome five."

Patience stifled a giggle, but he didn't seem to notice. His face was still as stern as ever. That was what she found funny, the fact that he took all of this so seriously. The fearsome five? How could he not even crack a smile? She was possibly looking into the jaws of death, and even she was laughing about it. Oh dear. She was laughing.

"Has something I said amused you?" he asked, his tone ashen with malicious spite.

Grim held a finger close to her like he was telling off a child. "Come now, Patience. Let's not mock the mad, little man." The man turned almost as red as a tomato. His face melted with anger. He clenched his fists into tight buns at his side, straightening the arms as though he was resisting some sort of tantrum.

How cute.

"Little man? I am Kensuke Addington, leader of the Fearsome Five." Even Grim lost it at the second mention of that ridiculous name. His laughter filled the street, as tears filled his eyes. "I've had enough of your insolence, who are you to mock me? No, I've changed my mind about taking you alive. I'll kill you where you stand."

Grim sat down.

"What are you doing?"

"Well he can't kill me where I stand now," he said, almost pleased with himself, "see, I foiled his plans without violence. I love it when everything works in our favour.

Kensuke didn't find it funny, not one bit. Instead he pulled a revolver from his pocket and pointed it in their direction. They had both already dived behind the metal shell of their vehicle. Bullets rained out, soaring above their head until they heard the welcome click to signal he was out. Patience tipped her head over the bonnet and looked at him through the hole in the windscreen. Her hand fell to the floor next to her and scooped up a rock with jagged edges, then she threw it. Kensuke cried out with pain as he clutched his face, a new cut etched across his cheek with pouring blood escaping from it. His face morphed into an angry expression as he pointed in their general direction.

"What the hell are you lot waiting for?" he yelled, "get them, kill them. Make it painful." The four other men moved towards them.

"Do you think we should run yet?" said Patience, her breathing quickening as time ran out.

"Why? Are you finding them to be fearsome?"

Patience narrowed her eyes. "They're not all as small as Kensuke."

"True, but the bigger they are, the harder they-" A fist rammed into the side of his face, smashing his head against the front of his beloved bonnet. She thought she heard a crack as his nose broke.

She stood up, or rather she was pulled up by a tall, slender man wearing a tight shirt. He didn't seem so bad. Oh God. His mouth was full of needle-like teeth, too many to possibly fit in one mouth. They opened wide as though the darkness inside was going to consume her, the teeth about to cut into her like daggers on her neck. Her leg kicked upwards knocking him off of her. She regretted not wearing high heels, that would have left a mark. However, once she broke free and began to run, she realised that to wear heels would be to damn her. No way could she walk in those, let alone run or fight.

"Don't let her get away," barked Kensuke, but she had already escaped into the darkness. She couldn't see her hand in front of her face, let alone her pursuers from behind. There were footsteps, a hand reached out to grab her. She punched the darkness, it grunted in pain before retreating back.

The idea had only just occurred to her. She dropped her hands into her pocket and pulled out a lighter. It had been her dad's, until she stole it to help him quit smoking.

She lit it and held it up high. Now she could at least see a little bit, but she was also creating a beacon for them all to follow.

She climbed over a metal barrier, stumbled down a hill, and made it back to her feet. Somewhere around her, leaves crackled.

Large arms took her off her feet from behind, holding her tight as she kicked out and struggled. Another figure stepped out in front of her, drawing back his arm for a punch. It made contact, feeling like her lungs were cracked as her breathing became wheezy. Her foot flailed outwards and caught him round the face.

With that threat neutralized, she focused her efforts on getting free. Instinctively, she pressed the lighters flame against the back of his hand. He cried out, dropped her and she ran. She found herself in amongst trees. Trees were safe. She crouched behind one, trying to gain her breath back.

She sat hunched up for a few minutes until she thought it was safe. Then she stepped out slowly, breaking into a sprint back towards Bessy. There were footsteps behind her but she chose to ignore it, the fear spurring her on. She saw Bessy. But where was Grim.

There was a cry of pain and Grim fell backwards out the darkness. He tumbled around on the floor with the slim man, trading punches. Patience doubled back, kicked away a man before pulling Grim apart from the slim man. They backed up to the car, surrounded. They didn't stand a chance.

"Get in the car," said Grim.

Patience did as he said. "Bessy is gone, we're not going anywhere."

"Come on girl."

Kensuke pressed his face against what was left of the glass, his hands slipped in reaching for her throat.

Bessy came back alive. "YES!"

The wheels spun and they rattled back down the road. Patience took a deep breath, finally feeling the extent of her injuries as pain overtook her.

A little into the journey, Patience got bored and reached for her phone. More birds needed to die. Hold on, where was it?

"Grim, they have my phone."

"I'm sure you'll cope."

She glared at him. "You don't understand. Everything is on that phone, my address, my friends, family.

My whole life is on that tiny device and now they have it."

Grim twisted the wheel and braked outside her house. "Well they would have to crack the password first, right?"

"I don't have one."

"Who doesn't have a password."

"I don't."

"Didn't you ever get taught stranger danger?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "Whatever, we'll have to deal with whatever happens from this later."

"Be careful. Don't open the door to any small, angry men."

"Grim.... I learned stranger danger. Okay, I'm leaving now." Before he could make another joke, she stepped out and went home. She wondered what they would do with the information. She smiled at her parents as she went passed, hoping she hadn't put them in any danger.

6

THE IMPERIUM

Patience felt more nervous than she had felt in the last few years combined. Grim had told her that they were visiting a place called the Imperium, essentially the headquarters for the English Magical Government, run by a man called the Luminary.

She wondered how they would react to her being brought into this world: a part of her suspected they disliked mortals, and hated it even more when these mortals were exposed to the world of magic. All that aside, she knew that it was necessary to visit them. Grim had to return so that he could discuss further action with the Luminary, since he was his boss. Then they had to talk to someone about following a clue about Bernard, although Grim was being particularly secretive about that.

"This Luminary sounds like a fun guy," she said, "I bet him and I are gonna be great friends."

Grim chuckled. "I doubt it, he's over a gazillion years old, he won't understand your lingo."

"Firstly, that's not even a number. Secondly, lingo? What are you, like ninety? No one says that."

"More specifically, I am one-hundred and fifty-seven, not that you would know. Sorcerers age well, which means I have much longer to look this dashing." She shook her head and suppressed a smile, it might have been impossible if nerves weren't catching up with her.

They stopped outside a petrol station, cruising Bessy into a section which had a sign saying out of order. She pointed this out to Grim and he just laughed, lowering his window. His eyes darted from side to side, and she wondered what he was waiting for. Then, once he was sure the petrol station was completely empty, he pulled the pump down like a lever, causing the ground to vibrate like an earthquake.

They were lowered into the ground on a giant lift, metal bars coming up from the sides around them.

"This is amazing," she cried.

"This is the vehicle entrance," he explained, "there is also an on-foot entrance located inside the petrol station building, but I didn't think you would want to go into the bathroom."

"Let me guess," she said, "you get sucked into the toilet."

He laughed. "Nope, sorry. It's actually eaten by a hand dryer." She did wonder if she watched too many films sometimes – well all the time.

"Couldn't anyone just wander in?" she asked, "mortals don't always read signs."

"That happens from time to time. Which is why the Admin at the entrance is a clairvoyant, if someone wanders in by accident, she just wipes their minds and sends them on their way."

Patience lowered her window and put her hands on the edge, looking over. They were just coming out of the darkness and arriving in the Imperium itself. Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped onto the seat below her. It was extraordinary.

The room they arrived in, the atrium Grim called it, was huge. It reached hundreds of metres in each direction, with people filling it almost to its capacity. Stalls were set up, flogging magical goods. People rushed through crowds for appointments and children ran around playing games with one another. It seemed a lot friendlier that she had first imagined.

When they landed on the floor, they were greeted by a woman in a tight red dress, completely covered apart from a bare patch just below her neck. Her dark hair was tied neatly up in a bun and her lashes were caped in a stunning black.

"Hello Grim, and visitor," said the Admin with a warm smile.

Patience stepped off the lift first, hesitantly. "I'm Patience."

"Welcome, Patience, it's always nice to see new faces." Patience returned the smile. "The Luminary is expecting you."

Grim joined Patience at her side. "Oh right, okay. Can we go right in?" She tapped away on her keyboard as lights flashed up against the smooth skin of her face.

"Sure, it looks like he has just come out of a meeting. Just head straight in." Grim nodded his thanks and led Patience through the crowd. She was stopped a few times by salesman trying to sell her things, such as something called a glamour, and also an ailment which was supposed to increase magical durability. She shied away from them, trying to avoid any eye contact that might cause them to approach her. She always did have a hard time saying no to people.

"I don't see any security," she said.

"Of course you don't, which is the point. They are blatta."

"What are blatta?" As though he was answering her question, Grim walked to the side until they were close to the side wall. He muttered something which caused a disruption in the air, within moments a figure appeared in the space. They had no skin showing, only tight armour that gripped to their body, a helmet with a visor that completely blocked all humanity from them, and a massive great sword which was flung in a strap on their back.

"That's a blatta," he said, "they can make themselves unseen, invisible. The Imperium takes them from a young age and strips all emotion and independent thought from them, simply training them as the most deadly warriors on the planet."

"That's horrible," she said, trying to look for any recognition that the blatta could see or hear her. But it didn't move an inch, it may as well have been a statue.

It once again became invisible before her very eyes, and they went back the way they had been going.

Grim went through a set of glass doors on the other end. The room they found themselves in reminded Patience of a waiting room that you might get in a doctor's or dentist surgery – even fitted with a pile of old magazines.

As the Admin said, they went straight through to the next room. It was large, with four seats lined across the lowest level facing forwards. Ahead was a kind of stage, with steps leading up. There were two chairs. One half way up, and one at the very top behind a podium. The Luminary, a man with a flowing white beard and bald patch, looked down on them, but it wasn't him who spoke first.

"Evening Grim, and mortal girl," said the man who was sat in the lower seat. He sounded bored as though this was procedure, except the word mortal which he almost spat out with a degree of spite.

She looked at him. He was very large, not the type to work as a politician or even at a desk job. His eyes were sharp and dangerous, and his mouth twisted into a look of cruelty. "Nice to see you're finally here." Patience didn't like him already, and he didn't seem to like her much either.

"We were somewhat indisposed," said Grim, sitting on the central chair on the ground level, and inviting Patience to take the one beside him.

It was the Luminary who started speaking next.

"We heard tellings of your appointment of this girl," he said, not even bothering to give a glance towards Patience, it was as though she was unimportant in his eyes. "Justify yourself." Even as he spoke, he managed to keep all emotion from showing on his face. If he was angry, he certainly wasn't showing it, neither in his face nor tone.

Grim looked from the Luminary to the man beside him, none of them were cursory glances. "This is the niece of Bernard Gillespie. He was kidnapped by a man named Mr Big." The man on the second level sat forward and glared, Grim turned to him. "Something you wish to say, Magnum?"

"Only that I am struggling to see your justification for taking this girl with you."

"If you would let me finish," he sighed, Patience gave him as filthy a look as possible. "A man also attacked her, they were after something."

"What would you propose they were looking for?" asked the Luminary, his voice calm and monotone, not breaking from character for a second.

Grim thought for a moment, then a look of knowing flashed over his face before returning to normal. "I think he is looking for the Lamina."

"Impossible," snapped Magnum, "the weapon was lost after the Great War. It hasn't been seen since."

"Bernard told me that he knew where it was," said Grim, "he was convinced that he knew, and he wrote it in his journal, which now sits behind a protective barrier in his study."

"So, you believe that there is a man named Mr Big," said the Luminary, "who is looking for the most dangerous weapon in the world, thought to be lost, and he kidnapped Bernard to find it."

"Yes, and when he can't get anything out of Bernard, they'll be after Patience. As you know, the only way to break a protective barrier that is tied to blood is to kill any who have stepped through it. Currently to our knowledge, that includes Bernard, and young Patience here." She felt herself go cold, Grim had failed to mention that.

The Luminary stared for a long time, his eyes invading her personal space until he began to speak once again. "I cannot force myself to believe in this, which means that I refuse to offer you any added support."

Magnum smiled smugly. "However, it doesn't change the fact that someone has taken Bernard. So, I will allow you to investigate this matter and do whatever is necessary to bring him back."

Magnum interrupted. "What of the girl?" he said, "surely she should have her memory wiped, or something."

"That isn't possible," said Grim, "it wasn't I who told her. Bernard left a letter which gave away the existence of magic. As a family member, he had every right to tell her, taking away our right to eliminate her memories."

She thought she heard Magnum curse under his breath.

"Okay," said the Luminary at last, "she can go with you. But we won't take any responsibility for the consequences." Grim nodded his thanks, and led the way out the room. As soon as they were away, Patience gave a sigh of relief.

"That was intense," she said, her breathing sounding more like she had just taken part in a long run rather than a conversation. "Why didn't you tell me Mr Big was after some kind of weapon?"

"I only just worked it out," he said, "I just said the words that came to my head. Memory is a strange thing, it doesn't always work logically or chronologically. It just works whenever it feels like it."

"Probably because you're getting old."

They took a route back through the atrium and into a set of winding corridors. They all seemed the same.

She wondered how Grim was even able to find his way around this place.

"Where are we going next?" she asked, eager to find out what this clue was, "will it help us to find my uncle?"

"Maybe," he said, "we're visiting a colleague of mine called Mercy. We've worked together many times in the past, because she is a clairvoyant. She provides all my needs in terms of altering memories.

However, another ability that clairvoyants possess is the skills needed to take a sample of blood and locate someone, no matter where they are."

"She's going to help us find Uncle Bernard?" said Patience, smiling furiously. After that she picked up the pace and practically ran to the office of Mercy.

Grim stepped in first, and then she continued through beside him. Mercy looked up and gave them both welcoming smiles. She was truly beautiful. Her eyes were a soft maroon colour that seemed to glaze over everything with a gentle touch. She had light blonde hair – practically yellow – falling past her shoulders.

"Hi," she said, frantically waving, Patience screwed up her face in laughter the moment she opened her mouth. There was nothing strange about her, in fact everything seemed unsettlingly perfect, she was just in that mood.

"I'm sorry," said Grim, "she does this sometimes." But Mercy was laughing as well, they were both matching each other for the loudest laugh, or who would fall on the floor in hysterics first. Grim sighed.

"Women."

Mercy the wiped tears from her eyes, though her face still couldn't look completely seriously "Sorry, what was it you wanted?"

"We need your help." Her face managed to become serious, especially when Grim told her that Bernard was missing. "We were wondering if you could take this sample of his blood and locate him." He handed her the vial. Patience wondered where he had got it, must have been from the floor of his house when she wasn't looking.

She closed her eyes and held it in her hands.

"I'm sorry, I can't help you."

"Don't you need to try, with your map and everything."

She shook her head. "I can sense it, there is a block. Someone is stopping me from seeing where he is."

Patience frowned, for every magic that seemed to help them, it appeared that there was a counter. Yet never a counter for the counter.

Grim cursed. "Well I'm not sure what to do now."

"We could go back to my uncle's," said Patience, "a look inside the journal might tell us where this Lamina is hidden. It won't help us find Mr Big, but surely getting it before he does is better than nothing."

Grim nodded, but Mercy cut in. "I'll come with you," she said, "Bernard was my friend too, and I wouldn't forgive myself if I was to just sit here." She stood up, and Patience noticed the swords that were attached to her side, two of them. Maybe she could be helpful, it certainly looked like she was trained in combat – muscles and everything.

It was decided, so they left the Imperium for her uncle's house.

7

A SPARK OF MAGIC

It was incredibly satisfying being in the car with Mercy. Previously the journeys would have been filled with an occasional deadly silence, but now there wasn't a moment of breath between conversation. She was just too much fun.

Patience listened intently as Mercy recounted one of her past missions. "So, there was this man called Rasabarb, and he was literally capable of shrinking himself so small that he could climb inside people and attack their organs from the inside."

"What happened to him?" she asked.

"Well, after an epic fight which lasted about thirty seconds and ended with me getting the upper hand, he shrunk to about the size of a penny and jumped at me. Fortunately, I had just finished my lunch, and emptied a jar of jam. When he jumped at me, I caught him in it and fastened on the lid. Turns out, his growth isn't strong enough to even break through glass, so he was stuck there while we delivered him to the vault."

Patience bounced up and down on her seat, only being contained by the restraints of the seat belt.

"Wow, that sounds amazing, and incredibly unlikely."

"Mercy has been known to exaggerate," said Grim, turning the wheel of the car so that momentum forced her against the door.

"I do not," scathed Mercy, throwing him a quick look of disgust before letting out a girlish giggle, "well at least sixty percent of it was true..... okay, forty." Patience laughed as she felt the car come to a stop.

They climbed out the door and stepped over the curb onto her uncle's lawn. Grim remained in the car.

"Are you not coming?" she asked.

Grim shook his head. "I came up with a lead which I want to follow up. You two go and find out what you can about the Lamina, and where it's hidden. I'll be back in a few hours, just wait for my call." They nodded, and he escaped around the corner, leaving a grey trail of smoke in his wake.

"I think you made him grumpy," said Patience, "that his life is way less interesting than yours."

Mercy chuckled and then became serious. "Oh, Grim certainly has a few tales worth telling. Although, I think the majority of them he will want to keep to himself. The Great War is a time that I think he would rather forget."

Patience couldn't contain her shock. "Grim fought in The Great War? Which side was he on?"

"We all did, though he was a general," she said, "one of the best.... and don't worry. He was on the side of the pro-mortal sorcerers." Patience tried not to seem too relieved. Wars were a strange thing. Years later when it is over and everyone lives in harmony again, in theory everyone forgives and forgets, but can they truly get away from the horrific experiences they went through.

What did she know about war? The only war she had ever seen was on the news, and even that seemed so distant, like it wasn't real.

She unlocked the house with her spare key and went inside, straight away prioritising the creation of a cup of tea over finding the most dangerous weapon in the world. Many had told her before to get her priorities straight. She usually ignored them.

Patience handed a mug to Mercy and they both sat down on the sofa. She considered flicking on the television and finding out what was going on in the mortal world – she had become so detached from it –

but decided against it. She would rather just listen to more of Mercy's stories.

However, when she looked up, Mercy was staring at her with accusation in her eyes. Something was wrong, for a moment her pupils flashed a milky white and then she shook her head as though she had just woken up.

"Are you okay?" asked Patience.

Mercy smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. My magic just gives me some insight occasionally. I see things, truths."

"What did you see?" said Patience, "something about my uncle?"

"No," said Mercy, "it was about you, a secret you've been keeping. You know, that ring on your finger."

Patience looked down at it. In truth, she had almost forgotten it was there, it's not like it had been useful or allowed her to perform any feats which saved her life. It had just been a regular, old piece of jewellery. "I forgot about that," she said.

"So, you have a wand," said Mercy. She paused for a moment. Then her face softened as a wide smile spread from ear to ear. "That is so cool, where'd you get it?"

Patience relaxed a little. "My uncle left it with the note that was in his study. I guessed he wanted me to have it, so I put it on. But I didn't want to tell Grim. I realise he was hesitant to bring me into this world.

If he knew I was seeking the means to do magic, then he might take it away and bring me home. I can't forget this world, not now." Patience realised how stupid it was saying that to Mercy, a woman who could literally make anyone 'forget anything'.

"Of course you do, that's normal. But I really do suggest that you tell Grim," she said.

"Why?"

Mercy grinned. "So that it's not so much a shock when you start shooting out fireballs to defend yourself." Patience jumped up excitedly, she was going to learn magic. "Get up and stand in the centre there." Patience did as she said.

"Are you able to teach me?" she asked, "you're a clairvoyant, not an elemental. Surely you don't know how to throw fireballs."

Mercy nodded. "When we're younger it is normal to try lots of aspects of magic before settling upon a single discipline. I'm going to teach you an elemental ability, but that doesn't mean you are tied to that one discipline for the rest of your life. You have a little while to decide yet."

Patience readied herself, normally she dedicated a large percentage of her brain trying to come up with witty quips, but at this point she was fully focused on the task. She tried to remain calm and not get taken over by excitement, she was determined to make this work.

"Okay," said Mercy, "just relax and listen to what I tell you. Right now you have magical energy swirling around your body, even mortals have a bit of it, but you come from a magical family, so you should have more. So, the first step is to find this energy, feel it. Close your eyes." Patience did as she was told, hoping that this wasn't some joke to make her look silly. "Just concentrate, now that you are aware of it, the energy will make itself known to you."

She screwed up her face in concentration, thinking about those loose bits of energy floating around inside her. Then she felt different, like a tickling sensation that spread across her entire torso.

"I feel it," she said quickly, "it's there."

"Good, so now that you know it's there you have to co-ordinate it. Coax it into your hand."

"How do I do that?"

Mercy had stood up, Patience could hear her standing opposite as she breathed steadily. "The magic is a part of you, in effect, it is you. Which means that it reacts to stimulation of your brain."

"You mean I just have to think about it?"

"Kind of," she said, "if you will it to happen then it will. Just let it slide along you, up your arm and into your hand. Try that for me."

This part wasn't as easy as simply discovering the energy. It seemed like every time she managed to get it to move, it would snap back like an elastic band, away from where she wanted it.

"It takes practice," said Mercy, "most don't master it until months of training." Patience refused to let it beat her though. Her face was so screwed up by this point that she probably looked ridiculous. Then a wave of relief spread through her as the energy flowed smoothly as though the pressure had built up enough for it to just tear through her body wherever she wanted it to go.

"I've got it," she cried, "it's in my hands."

"Okay, you're nearly there. Now, do the same, but lead it into your fingers. This will take more delicate movements because the openings aren't as wide as those that lead up your arm."

Since she had done it once, it was far easier to ease the energy in delicately. They now seemed to obey her like a trained dog, it was working with her rather than against her. Finally, she felt her fingers tingle to signal that she had been successful.

"Click your fingers," instructed Mercy. Patience did so, producing a spark which evaporated into the air. "And again." The second time was more successful. After the click, Patience felt her fingers start to heat up until they felt like they were burning, but this was all overshadowed by the hovering flame that erupted in her palm.

"Oh my God," she squealed, "I did it."

Mercy grinned proudly. "Yes you did." She showed her how to get rid of it, pushing her palms together until the fire completely died out. It was sad to see it go, but she was still buzzing with adrenaline. She practiced a few times more, getting faster with each conjuring. Now she might actually be able to defend herself if they got into another fight, no, WHEN they get into another fight. It was only a matter of time with Grim.

"You picked that up quicker than I thought," said Mercy, a glamorous smile filling her mouth, "but we have been distracted."

"You're right," said Patience, kind of disappointed that her magic casting had come to an end, "I suppose we better go and get that journal."

Mercy followed Patience up to the entrance of the study, perching against the wall as she waited for her to return from the magical barrier with the journal.

As Patience went ahead, she felt nerves grip her as she realised this was the first time she'd been back since her uncle went missing. It sent chills through her. Especially when she looked around the study, finding it exactly how it would have been on any of her regular visits to his house. It all lay un-tampered, everything it its right place. Even the journal which was in the drawer of his desk, as it always was.

As she held it in her hand, Patience realised how small it was. It was unmistakably leather, with a cover of two crossed over pieces held together by a small gold sealer.

How could something so small contain information so valuable, she thought, this little book could either save or destroy the world, and her uncle had kept it in his study all this time.

There was a ringing noise from outside. Patience wandered out to Mercy who was on the phone. She passed it to Patience. "It's for you."

She took it, pressing it to her ear. "Hello."

"We really need to get you a new phone," said the familiar voice of Grim, "but anyway.... how is the search going?" She considered telling him about the magic, but decided it was probably something best discussed in person.

"It's alright," she replied bluntly, "though we haven't found anything yet."

There was a pause of silence before Grim spoke. "Well I followed up on that lead, and I think I've gotten somewhere. I'm going to pick you up in ten minutes."

"What about the Lamina?"

"Why doesn't Mercy stay to read through the book, then we'll pick her up afterwards?"

"Alright, see you in ten then." She hung up the phone and returned it to Mercy. She opened her mouth to explain but Mercy cut in.

"Don't worry, I heard."

"Okay, if there is any danger then throw the journal back through the protective barrier."

Mercy swatted the air. "Don't worry, I've got this. I'm a trained badass, remember?"

"Oh, of course," said Patience with a sly smile. She left Mercy sat outside the study reading the journal.

She could tell that she was less than happy at being left behind while they got to see all the action, but it was necessary. And if someone did come looking for the journal then she would need her skills to defend it.

Grim was already waiting outside by the time Patience made it out, so she climbed in and they set off without hesitation.

8

THE RED HERRING

For the entire journey, Patience played through the same conversation in her head. Each time she repeated it, she felt that it got worse. How was she going to tell him that she had magic, and that she lied?

Grim parked the car in as dangerous a way as she thought possible. Then as he turned to get out, she put her hand on his shoulder and stopped him. "Wait."

"What is it?" he said, "we're in a bit of a hurry."

Patience took a deep breath. "I have to tell you something."

"No no," he said, "you don't need to tell me that I am the greatest.... I already know that."

"Grim," she snapped, "this is serious."

"I was being serious." Unfortunately she knew that he actually was.

"Anyway, there is something that I haven't been telling you. Mercy found out about it and said that I shouldn't keep it from you any longer."

"Yes?"

She took another long, lingering breath and chose one of the methods of telling him at random. "My uncle left a ring with that letter, a magical ring. You know, a wand, and then Mercy taught me how to use it."

"I see."

"But I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to be mad and take it away. I couldn't just be dropped back into the mortal world again, not after seeing the good, the bad and the ugly of the magical world – the ugly being you by the way."

Grim looked sternly. "You really shouldn't insult the person you're trying to explain something to."

"Sorry," she said, "please forgive me."

"It's okay, I'm used to you insulting me by now."

"No I meant about the ring."

Grim chuckled. "Oh yeah that, whatever, it doesn't really matter."

"What?"

"I dunno why you were worried, I half expected it to happen eventually anyway. Who cares? Just don't use it in front of mortals, or on me. Sorted." A wide smile creased her face. She felt like leaping towards him and wrapping her hands around his waist, but then he would make a joke about her being clingy. So, she got out the car and looked at the building.

It was a mortal pub which was situated on a long, narrow street which looked suspiciously empty for a night time in Bristol. Where were all the students and random drunkards that had nothing better to do on their evenings?

"Why are we here?" asked Patience.

Grim considered his reply. "I realised a very fatal detail we happened to look over, well you didn't, but we didn't persevere on it enough. So, the sinister six."

"Actually," said Patience, "now they're called the fearsome five."

"Exactly, Kensuke said that one of their members quit the group. I was thinking, maybe he didn't want to do the job, he might not have been happy with it."

"So, you tracked down that missing member to this pub, The Red Herring."

"I know, it's not an encouraging name," he said, "but we have to try." They entered the pub. It wasn't that busy, filled with men with beer bellies drinking their life away, and one family sat in the corner who looked like they had lost their memory as to how they got there.

Grim approached a man she didn't know. He looked tough. His face was plastered with thick bandages that held back the harsh flow of blood, his eyes were thin and cold like ice. Not to mention his muscled arm was tattooed with a skull. Could he get any tougher looking if he tried?

"Hello there," said Grim, ignoring the muscles and the chilling death stare, "can I just-"

"I know you, little man," said Tough Man.

Little man, Grim, replied. "Have I annoyed you in a past life? Please, tell me that we were both kittens and our owner loved me more. I would be an adorable kitten."

The man rolled up his sleeves even more, as though that was a sign that he was about to prove his toughness. "Well, you're annoying me now in this life, so I'm going to wring your little kitten neck like a bathroom sponge."

"That is a lovely metaphor," said Grim, backing away, "it was a metaphor wasn't it? Anyway, do you really have to take it out on the kitten, just because I was cuter."

The man reared back his arm and sent a hammer-like fist soaring into Grim's jaw, knocking him onto the ground with a gigantic thud. "Smasher will smash," cried the man.

Oh good, thought Patience, the man's name is Smasher, is it even possible for him to proclaim his strength in any more ways?

The entire bar emptied of people, good, now she didn't have to worry about them seeing anything which might alert them to the existence of sorcerers.

She watched as Grim was scraped up off the floor, tossed against the bar and kneed in the chest. He glanced at her with a look of 'are you just going to stand there'. She sighed, letting the energy flow into her ring finger before a flame erupted from her hand. She tossed it at Smasher, but it hit his back and fizzled out.

He turned to glare at her. "The little sorcerer has magic, how cute."

"Well by definition," said Patience, "a sorcerer would have magic, otherwise they wouldn't be a sorcerer, they would be a mortal. It's like exclaiming that a cheese grater can grate cheese. Of course it bloody can, it's a cheese grater."

Smasher seemed to think for a moment, unable to comprehend what she was getting at. To be fair, she was struggling with it herself.

Once he had given up, he held out his hands and aimed for her throat. She vaulted over the bar, snatched a glass bottle from the side, and flung it into his face. Glass shards cut into him but he brushed them off with little more than a grunt. She hopped back over, grabbed a chair and held it up like it was the most deadly weapon in the world.

"Don't come any closer," she cried, narrowing her eyes to try and compete with his scary look.

His scarred face twisted into a mocking smile. "What are you going to do? Hit me with it."

Grim appeared behind him holding a babies highchair. He swung it, hitting the back of Smasher's neck and snapping it in two – the chair, not his neck. This only angered Smasher even more.

"Little man has come back to play," he said.

"I'm sure the women love you," said Grim, "you're such a people person." Grim was pushed against the bar, a flurry of fists flying in at surprisingly high speeds. Patience had a chance. She once again cornered the energy in her body and honed it into her fingers, they began to tingle. She rushed forward, jumping onto a table and diving off of it towards the ground. At the last minute she manipulated the wind beneath her to toss her back into the air like a cannon so that she landed onto Smasher's back.

Wow, wind manipulation as well, that time it was instinctive.

He writhed around for a moment trying to get her off, but his arms were too short to reach her – he must have a really hard time scratching his back.

Patience climbed forward and wrapped his neck into the crevice of the joint between elbow and upper arm, tensing until his air way was blocked. He began to panic, scurrying around trying to grab her, but she twisted out of his reach. He backed up against a wall and drove her into it, taking the breath from her body.

She maintained her grip until he collapsed onto the ground, probably unconscious, maybe dead. No.

Definitely unconscious.

When he came round again he didn't make any sudden movements, he just lay there groaning in pain.

"Why are you still here?" he moaned.

Patience cut in before Grim could. "Is Smasher your real name?"

"No, it's Gerald." She stifled a giggle. Not such a tough name as SMASHER.

Grim glared at her before returning his gaze to..... Gerald. "You were a member of the sinister six, were you not?"

"I was. Are you going to arrest me?"

Grim smiled. "Not yet. I want to make a deal with you. Tell me everything you know and I might consider letting you walk free."

"I dunno nuthin,"

"Oh, I think you do," said Grim, "well I hope you do. We met your boss, Kensuke."

"That little rat faced toad." Very contradictory, yet fairly true, Patience reckoned.

"Anyway, we believe he was working for a man named Mr Big, can you tell us anything about why you left or what the job was?"

Gerald sighed. "Kensuke told us that we had a job, to go after this little girl, to find something out from her or something."

"You don't like beating up little girls?" asked Patience, chuckling slightly.

"Not when they fight back," he groaned, "but that's not why I left. He said it was to try and find the Lamina... you know that really powerful weapon. Some kind of ending the world apocalypse plan, or something. I didn't want the world to end, so I quit. What fun is there if no one is left to kill, or if I'm not around to kill people?"

"That's a very positive outlook to have," said Grim, "how did Kensuke find out about Mr Big?"

Gerald shrugged. "Some drunk guy in a bar, Kensuke was looking for work and this guy had the answers."

"So, Kensuke won't know where Mr Big is," said Grim to himself, "but this man might." He looked back at Gerald. "Who was this man?"

"I dunno," he said, "some guy.... what was his name? Ivis..... Ivis Montague."

Grim stepped back with a stunned expression on his face. Patience looked him in the eye. "You know this guy?"

"Yeah, he's one of the Imperium's informants. Looks like we'll be paying him a visit. Thank you very much Gerald." Grim slapped the handcuffs onto his wrists and called for someone to pick him up. This was not a good day to be a criminal.

9

X MARKS THE SPOT

Mercy

Mercy sat beside the window with the journal spread out across her lap, scanning the words as swiftly as she could. It was never one of her strong points. Somehow she could always glaze over the same word, and every single time she would formulate a different interpretation as to what the writer was trying to get at. She was doing the same thing here, wondering if every small comment such as "anchovies are a surprisingly nice topping for ice cream" was actually a secret clue to find the Lamina.

Not only that but she was paranoid. She was sat in a house made out of wood, with no protection apart from the mortal, metal lock which lay on the door. Sat in her lap was the key to the most dangerous weapon in the universe, which every evil sorcerer for hundreds of miles was searching for. She could be spared for being just a little nervous. It wasn't the most quiet of houses either. There was the humming of engines as cars cruised past, birds chirping from the roof and even, at one point, cows being coaxed across the road outside. It was what they got for having a house situated approximately mid-way between the city and the countryside.

It was only when the sun had gone down and lights flashed outside that Mercy so much as suspected that something might be up. She put the journal down beside her, laying it down softly like it was a new born baby, then straddled herself onto the windowsill, gazing out onto the driveway. Damn it. There was a car parked there, and it wasn't the big, black shell of Bessy. It was a long, sleek and elegant, all of the things that Grim would never so much as go near, let alone drive.

She retracted from the window just late enough to see figures stepping out from it. No doubt they were expecting the property to be empty since there were no other cars parked outside, because of course, the people of this world are so lazy that the possibility of them walking rather than driving is too farfetched to even consider.

Instinctively, her hands fell to her side and stroked the blades that still hung at her belt, a wave of relief spreading over her just at the thought of still having them. It meant that she still had a chance. But her life wasn't the main priority, the journal had to take precedence. Although, by saving the journal, she was also saving her own life.

She picked it up, holding it in her arms as she walked over to the entrance of the study, ignoring the sounds of crashing from the bottom floor. Then with a newfound brutality, she tossed the journal back into the study. She could no longer retrieve it because the protective barrier would stop her, but neither could the intruders.

There was a loud noise that echoed through the house to signal that they had made it through the door.

Not long now and they would find her.

"Spread out," cried a female voice, even with the wooden structure, her voice carried with an innate authority. Even Mercy could hear it with her natural resistance to all forms of authority, it didn't seem to sit right with her.

Once again she let her hands slither down her almost bare legs, wrapping around the hilt of her daggers and sliding them out of her belt strap. They felt cold in her hands, yet still managed to warm her, making her feel just a little safer as footsteps scouted the house. Eventually, they started on the stairs.

She closed her eyes, focusing. For a moment she was able to explore their minds. While it was unclear how many there were, their intentions were very clear. They were here for the journal, obviously, she didn't need to be a clairvoyant to work that one out. However, there was more. The man she was looking into was scared. Fear stretched through him at the thought of meeting Grim, they were expecting to find him here. The man was terrified: he had been warned about the anger which he possessed, the uncontrollable rage which fuelled him in the war, driving them towards victory. He wasn't looking forward to crossing him.

This man was the first to reach the top of the stairs, and the first to die.

It was over in seconds. She jumped into the air and spun sideways, her blades spinning out to the side like a cartwheel of death. His chest was ripped open and his insides poured out. His eyes rolled upwards into the back of his head in a state of shock, and a cry of fear or pain hadn't even been given the chance to climb from his lips. Mercy wasn't even sure that anyone was aware of his death, but they would find him soon enough.

Before that, there was something she would have to do to ensure her survival. She held the blade tighter, took a deep breath before pushing it lightly into the inside of her arm. Just a few beads of blood followed the metal along before she scooped it up with the tip of her index finger. She got to her knees and drew a small x on the floorboard beneath her. No doubt Grim would know what to make of it.

There was no movement coming her way, but at the same time there was no use prolonging things, so she stepped out down the stairs.

One of the men saw her. He lost his head. Then the others turned and a flurry of fireballs were sent her way. She dodged. At least it meant that they were indeed sorcerers rather than common mortal burglars.

The walls caught fire but were quickly extinguished. It must have been the protective barrier extending its reach to the house, adapting to safeguard its existence.

Mercy hopped around the corner and attacked, weaving between the figures as she blindly swung her blades to the sides. They were easy to cut down, and it took little effort to get four dead bodies lying at her feet. But then a woman stepped out from the shadows, she must have been leaning against the wall watching the events unfold. She didn't seem the slightest bit deterred by the dissembled bodies in front of her, in fact her eyes didn't even waste time glazing over them.

"Impressive," she said, "I have to say, Miss Mercy, it is a great pleasure to meet you. In fact it is a meeting I have been long awaiting."

Mercy took a step back, trying not to make it seem like she was acting out of fear. "Why?"

"You're well renowned for your skills with a blade, are you not? It just so happens that I too possess these skills. I very much hoped to test myself against you." Mercy eyed the woman up and down, from her dazzling red hair to the tight green vest. She seemed to remember a mention of someone of that description, holding that particular set of skills. Viper. That was her name.

Mercy held the blades tighter. Even the thought of that name was enough to send chills through her.

Viper seemed to notice the goose-bumps that had appeared across her arms.

"Nerves aren't something you're akin to, are they?" said Viper, "I can tell.... the way you shudder and try to shake it off. The confusion that layers your face. These are not natural feelings for you, which means you don't know how to cope with them."

Mercy took another step back, though she wasn't even aware she was doing so. Viper was right. This was strange. She wasn't used to the feeling of fear, and she wasn't even sure where it was coming from.

This woman had done nothing to suggest that her abilities were superior, Mercy just knew they were.

"Not in the talkative mood, are you?" said Viper, moving off her perch and drawing two katanas from her side, "let's just be honest, you know why I am here and what I am willing to do to get it. So, you can give me the journal now, or face the consequences. Oh, and don't bother lying to me, I know you have it."

For the first time, a sliver of a smile spread over Mercy's face. "Then you are misinformed. I threw the journal back into the protective barrier, you can't reach it."

Anger flashed in Viper's eyes, and Mercy knew that she accepted the truth. It wouldn't change anything.

Viper took a deep breath and shook her head as though she was struggling to contain something from within her, maybe it was fear of her master. What would he do now that she'd failed?

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said, "then, my dear, I apologise in advance for what I am about to do to you. I'll warn you now, this is going to hurt." She pulled the blades close and licked them in turn with her forked tongue, sending green energy up the entire surface of the katanas, so that they were glowing like poison. "Oh, I am looking forward to this."

Mercy got ready. "Well I'd be lying if I said I was too, but I suppose I don't have the same psychopathic tendencies as you. Seriously, you can't be an easy person to live with." As soon as she finished her sentence, she leapt forwards, whirling her blades around as she spun through the air. Viper ducked and weaved around her strikes with relative ease, bouncing up to land a counter strike. Mercy was ready for it, as she'd seen similar moves dozens of times before. But it was executed with much more vigour than her experience had taught her, only just allowing her to escape unscathed.

Damn. She's fast.

All through the fight, Mercy kept her eyes fixed upon the glowing green swords. Each time they came whizzing towards her she did her utmost to get out of their reach. Just one cut with that could be enough to grant her a slow death. At one point, one of Viper's controlled slashes slid past the front of Mercy's trousers, causing the fabric to part but not creating any exterior wounds. She sighed with relief as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

The fight seemed to go on for an age, with neither of them sustaining any injuries. It was only after Mercy tossed a TV at Viper that she lost her footing, which was enough for Viper to take advantage of.

She sprung into the air, running seemingly vertically across the roof as she clambered down to kick Mercy around the face, sending her sprawling out across the floor.

Mercy tried to gather her breath but she was winded, and found her breathing becoming uncontrolled and sporadic. There wasn't even enough time to look up before Viper grabbed her, throwing her into the wall and warping closer with a knee to the spleen. After taking an elbow around the cheek, Mercy's body sagged and she spat blood through her cracked teeth. Nothing that wouldn't heal – if she wasn't killed, that is.

Viper wrapped her leg around the back of her ankle and – like an expert wrestler – tossed her to the ground with a force that seemed to rattle the entire foundations of the house. She kicked dust into her face and squatted to the same level as her.

"I'm disappointed," said Viper, "very much indeed. I should probably kill you right here, maybe nick you with one of my little blades and leave you to die a slow and painful death. But.... my boss expects some kind of result, and I think you might prove to be useful to us. Even if you don't know anything, you will make a good bargaining chip, and it will at least stall my boss until I get actual results."

Mercy tried to smile through her beaten face, though her bruised cheeks would hardly move. "Looks like we're going on a little trip then. I'm glad, would have hated to have your ugly face as the last thing I ever see." With that, she fell limply to the side, her eyes closed as she faded into darkness.

No doubt they would interrogate her, she was trained for that. But maybe she wouldn't be prepared for what they had in store for her. She had never carried such sensitive information.

Mercy knew where the Lamina was, and she would do anything to stop Mr Big, or that crazy woman getting their hands on that information. Even if she had to take it to her grave.

10

IVIS MONTAGUE

Bessy rattled along the road. Rain had begun to fall, making the ground glisten with a beautiful glow.

Patience would have been in awe of it, but was too distracted.

"Do you think Mercy will be okay?" she asked. Grim was concentrating on the road, though she had a sneaky suspicion that he had been thinking the very same thing.

"I expect so," he said, "she doesn't possess the level of skills that I do, but she is quite good, you know?"

"You're so annoying..... but yeah, I hope so." She sat in silence for a little while, something she very rarely got while spending time with Grim. Resting her head on her palm and gazing out the window as the dark clouds moved further away, freeing them from the downpour.

Her mind soon left Mercy and returned to her uncle. At this point she wasn't feeling confident about his survival, he had simply been gone too long. By now his uses would have depleted, so he would just be an extra mouth to feed.

The only thing they could do was progress with what they were already doing, attempting to find Mr Big.

"So this, Ivis Montague, bloke," she started.

"What about him?"

"Well brief me about him, tell me what he is like. How to act around him."

"You young people can never settle for a good old fashioned surprise. Fine. Ivis is an informant of ours.

Six years ago he was caught trespassing in an extremely embarrassing place, and since then has been bribed with freedom, if he provides us with information. He isn't the most reliable of people, but he has a good amount of knowledge about the streets."

Patience played with the rotating window lever. "Why is he so unreliable?"

"He has always been a little paranoid," said Grim, "actually that's putting it lightly. He is known for being slightly unhinged, and that makes him untrusting and sometimes even dangerous."

"You know it just sounds like you're describing yourself here."

Grim smiled. "It has been known for me to talk about myself."

"Really?" she laughed, "I hadn't noticed."

"You know they say that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," he said, "and not very becoming for a young girl, such as yourself."

She tossed him a glance. "At least it's more wit than you ever show – which is none."

"Woah, I have feelings too you know. This is going beyond teasing chatter, and becoming discrimination."

"Discrimination?"

"Yes, you are discriminating against people who are infinitely smarter and better looking than you."

"I give up," she said, "think I'll just sit up here on the moral high ground and look down at you like a little ant-y speck." Even Grim stifled a laugh, but didn't reply. How unusual. He was never able to keep quiet, especially when the conversation was gearing towards him. Maybe he really did have something on his mind, he had feelings too, after all.

They pulled up outside an ordinary house in a mortal cul-de-sac. It seemed quite secluded but there were distinctive sounds of the motorway in the distance. The streets were very quiet and most of the neighbours had their curtains pulled back so she couldn't see inside, this house was no different.

"Is this where he lives?" asked Patience, "looks kinda.... normal."

Grim grunted in agreement. "Exactly, not the first place you'd look for a sorcerer, is it? Ivis has this strange perception that the whole world is out to get him. Quite literally, he even goes out in disguises when in public. Fit with a fake identity and terrible accent. Trust me when I say, he is no fun to go clubbing with. Not that he needs a disguise."

"Since when did you go clubbing?"

He shrugged. "I was young once too, a very long time ago."

"You make museums seem young." He sighed, shaking his head and not dignifying her dig with a reply.

He was getting used to it, and she was enjoying insulting him for once. She had to find a way to entertain herself on the long drives, after all.

They knocked on the door, and it was opened straight away. Patience had the feeling that he had watched them coming all the way up the drive. The door was still sealed by a metal chain on the inside, but Ivis poked his eyes through the small gap.

"Whatcha want?" he growled. His face was thin, and his dark hair seemed to blend in with the dark room behind him. He was like a human chameleon, then she realised that was his power. His hair literally resembled the colour of the back wall, he could camouflage to the point of being almost invisible.

"We wanted to speak to you," said Grim, "we heard you might have seen something that could be useful to us, or know of someone."

"Don't know nothing," he said, "now get lost. How did you even find me here?"

Grim turned to Patience. "Ivis doesn't live here. He moves from one mortal house to another while they are away, he thinks that it keeps him off the radar." He looked back at Ivis. "You don't think we keep track of you? We always know where you are Ivis."

"How?"

"This is a world of magic where literally anything is possible, don't you think we can find some lowlife, such as yourself."

A flicker of annoyance spread across his face, but then it settled and he unlocked the chain, letting them step in.

"You weren't followed, were you?" he said, his voice hurried as his tone sprinted across the words in one single-breathed swoop.

Grim shrugged. "Probably not."

"Well maybe you should be certain," said Ivis.

"Maybe you should let us through," said Grim, "otherwise I'll kick down this damn door." Ivis thought for a moment, then bowed his head and stood aside. It has come from nowhere. Patience had never seen Grim react like this, maybe he wasn't as peaceful as she had thought before. But once they were in the house, his face softened and he looked less angry.

They made their way through the house and into the living room. Patience circled the edges of the room.

On the shelf was a picture of a family, it looked like a professional photo shoot where the parents stood in the middle with one girl holding her mother's hand, and their son riding on the shoulder of his father. It brought a smile to her face, which she quickly hid. It had only just occurred to her how much she was missing her parents over the last few days.

In her mind, Patience had devised the plan of good-cop bad-cop. Grim was to be good-cop and she was to be bad-cop, simply because it would be more fun. But after seeing how he entered, maybe their roles should be reversed.

"Anyone want a tea or coffee?" said Ivis, standing in the kitchen which was built off from the living room.

Grim scowled. "It's not yours to offer. Do you use all the things in the mortal houses you inhabit?"

"I brought my own things," he said defensively, "plus, they didn't have any in the cupboards anyway."

That seemed more like it. She couldn't help but feel Grim was being a little harsh. Something must have happened between them in the past. They definitely seemed to despise each other.

"Sit down, Ivis, let's just get this over with. I don't want to spend any more time here than we have to."

Ivis finished making his tea before sitting down on the sofa opposite.

"To be honest, I'd be happy for you to leave. As soon as you can, I reckon would be good."

Grim narrowed his eyes. "Not until you tell us what we want to know."

"Look," he said, "I don't know what I could possibly offer you. You know the Luminary tells me when he has a job, but I haven't been contacted for three months."

"That might have something to do with your habit of stowing away in mortal houses," said Patience.

Ivis sniggered. "Where did you pick this one up from?"

"I'm not his pet," said Patience sternly, "in fact, Grim is the one that follows me around. Just so you know, I am Patience Gillespie, and I have to be honest, you are awful at first impressions."

"You have a surname," said Ivis, stroking the traces of a stubble at the lowest part of his chin, "so you're mortal." Patience frowned, before bringing her fingers together and clicking. The tiniest of sparks erupted outwards, but no flame. Ivis chuckled mockingly.

"Anyway," said Grim, trying to redirect the conversation, "we were speaking to a lovely man called Smasher, and he seemed to think that you'd be able to help us."

"What kind of a name is Smasher?"

"Well his real name is Gerald."

"That's original, but I'm not sure what would give him that idea. I keep to myself."

"That's not completely true, though," said Grim, "is it?"

Ivis cradled his hot mug like a new born baby. "So, what does it matter if I go out and eavesdrop. One day it could save me, I just use my powers so that I am essentially invisible, and then I can listen in to find out if anyone is trying to kill me. It's completely harmless"

"Do you know anyone called Kensuke?"

"No."

"Or Mr Big?"

There was a short pause in which Ivis raised his pupils into the corner of his eye and then quickly returned them to Grim. Even Patience was able to tell that he knew something, she was certain of it. Grim saw it too.

"Who is he?"

"I don't know."

"Ivis?" Grim growled, his voice becoming a threatening rumble through his throat, "I'm not in the mood for your games."

"No, I'm not lying," he said quickly, "I don't know who he is, but I've heard the name. You were right, I was busy listening in on a young couple's conversation, talking about buying groceries from some corner shop – it really wasn't interesting in the slightest except when they started discussing drama with another girl. And then this woman came in, a red head, Viper, I think she was called. Well.... anyway, she came in and was asking around about this man she was trying to find, said she was working for a man named Mr Big."

Patience raised an eyebrow. "She just walked in and shouted about this?"

"Well no," he said, "she went around talking to person to person, looking for someone. She didn't say why she wanted him or anything. All I know is that she mentioned Mr Big, the guy you're looking for."

Grim scratched his head, this information was quite unhelpful. "Who was she looking for?"

"Some woman that she thought her boyfriend was cheating with, she said something about beating her bloody."

"What?"

"Oh wait, you didn't mean the couple?"

"Why would I have meant the couple?" said Grim, confused, "I don't care what they said. Seriously, you have the worst attention span I have ever seen. No, who was Viper looking for?"

"Oh ok, it was some guy that they said was in the vault. I can't remember, Mur-Muri..... Murm."

"Murum?"

"YES, that was it," cried Ivis, "how did you know?"

Grim sighed. "Because I put him there myself. This is bad, really bad." He stood up and walked out the house.

Patience paused for a second. "Thank you, Mr Ivis, and just to be clear about the whole mortal thing....

you have a surname too, so don't be prejudice!" His mouth opened a little and then closed. She expected he was just happy to see the back of them.

She climbed into the car and did up her seatbelt. Grim was staring forwards dully.

"So why is this so bad? And what is this vault?" she asked, "jeez Grim, I don't know any of this stuff, can you just explain?"

He didn't remove his front facing gaze. "The vault is a sorcerer prison, the most secure one on the planet. It is where we put all the really bad people that need to be kept away from society. It is located far into the depths of the Earth, somewhere near its core. Without magic it would burn, but with magic it becomes the most secure and remote prison possible."

"And what is so bad about this Murum dude?"

"Weren't you listening," he said, "the vault is where we put the worst criminals imaginable. Aside from that, he is a phasewalker. Meaning he can walk through most matter, including walls and..."

"....protective barriers." Now it all seemed to make sense. Mr Big was going to break this Murum out of the vault so that he could walk through the protective barrier and retrieve the journal. Soon it wouldn't be protected and they would have a free path to the Lamina.

"I have to call the Luminary," said Grim, snapping out his phone as he put the car into gear. Patience was worried. So worried she didn't even point out that he was breaking the law by using his mobile while he was driving. If they didn't act fast, they would all be screwed.

11

THE VAULT

Jack

Jack sat beside the tall hexagonal pillars that stood outside the National Bus Museum. As was his tradition, he arrived twenty minutes ahead of when they were supposed to be meeting. This gave him a chance to sit on the steps and look out at the sight.

It was certainly a beautiful night. Stars were dotted in the sky like a freckled child, a few clouds still floated above, but they simply added to the glow of the moonlight as it filtered down on top of him.

He heard a sound of footsteps approaching from behind, he turned, surprised to see a man in a blue jacket and baseball cap stepping down from the museum entrance.

"Excuse me," he said, holding a hard looking torch in his hand and flashing the light towards Jack's eyes. He covered his face to avoid being blinded. "This museum is closed. If you want to see some history then I suggest you visit the cemetery."

Jack forced himself to look up, his small eyes looking out under the brim of his hat. "I'm just sitting here."

"Loitering, that's what this is. Don't think that just because you're wearing a fancy hat that I won't take you for a common thug. Get off my steps or I'll phone the police." Jack sighed. He had really hoped this would go smoothly. At least until they were in the vault itself.

His coat fell off him, and the mortal opened his eyes in horror. He dropped his torch, smashing glass on the floor which was subsequently crushed by his fleeing boot. But Jack didn't let him escape. With monstrous agility, he dashed forwards, clambering onto the man's back and tearing through the back of his neck with his teeth. The taste of iron filled his mouth, and the cold liquid dripped down from his lips. The mortal collapsed to the floor, lying in a pool of his own blood.

"I see you've already started without us," said Viper, stepping out of the shadows and approaching with two men at her side. "This is Treston, and Pollus."

"Two men," said Jack stunned, "that's all that he sends us."

"It's all we need."

Jack wiped the blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand. "What makes you so certain that this is possible?"

"The vault is indeed the most secure prison on the planet," said Viper, "but it is designed not to be broken out of. It does little to prevent people getting in."

"You do realise we'll have to break out. Unless you plan on staying down there for the rest of your life."

"That won't be a problem," she said. "I suppose it's about time I told you the purpose of this visit.

We're breaking out a man called Murum."

"The psychopathic phasewalker." Jack had heard stories about him, none of them good. Some villains were bad, sometimes even crazy. But Murum was a monster. "I heard one story where he phased his hand into someone's chest, and crushed their heart from the inside."

"That sounds like him," she said, shaking her head with a mixture of foreboding and appreciation for his work, "but in any case, that's not the kind of service we require from him. He is going to break through the protective barrier for us, and he is also our ticket out of here."

Viper led the way up the steps, dragging the body with her and throwing him down once they were inside the museum. It was a strange place to hide the most secure prison unknown to man, a bus museum.

Jack was actually quite fond of buses. He had been a keen advocate of public transport up until the event six months ago, involving the death of a bus driver that may or may not have been his fault. In any case, he now avoided all forms of public transportation. He'd have to make an exception in this case though.

"Where is the entrance?" he asked, though Viper seemed to feel that she didn't have to answer. Working for an employer wasn't everything that he'd hoped for. He disliked having to do what people told him too, following orders wasn't his strong suit. Then again, the killing was glorious. Far better than picking off random stragglers on the streets. It fulfilled his urges like nothing else, each kill seemed meaningful, even if he didn't fully support their cause.

She stopped beside a classic, yellow American school bus, it seemed normal. Surely this wasn't it.

Viper pointed at it, and Treston stepped forwards. He was quite short compared to her, but looks can be deceiving. His hands clasped beneath the bus, and in one quick haul he was able to throw it across the room. Jack could now see the hatch which lay underneath.

"Not the most hidden of places I've ever seen," he said, but shrugged. Viper pulled it open and he knelt down beside it. It was just a drop into darkness, nothing to help them down slowly. It might not even have a bottom, the fall might last forever. "Where's the ladder?"

"Calm down," she said, "I expect there is some kind of magic at the bottom to protect our fall. This prison is designed to let people in, but not out."

"Or to kill people."

"If you're not going to be helpful, then just stay quiet."

"Okay, let me sugar coat the truth for you then. Everything's going to be fine, don't worry. This isn't remotely dangerous, not even in the slightest. I think we'd be more at risk taking a stroll in the park."

"Shut up and get in the hole." He glared angrily, but her gaze didn't cease, so he stepped up to the hole.

One last look at Viper's smug look – not a mystery why she hadn't volunteered to go first – and then he stepped off the edge and slipped into darkness, consumed by it.

It felt like he was falling for a lifetime, not able to see the bottom or even any sides or walls. Just darkness festering all around him. Night time was his playground, his forte. His skills had developed an ability to see objects in the darkness, but in this, he could see absolutely nothing.

Wind raked past his face, and he had a distinct feeling that his lips were being pressed back against his cheek like a dog hanging its head out the car window. Then after another few minutes, he caught sight of a light, bright red and fiery.

His heart leapt and he tried to paddle in the air as though he could somehow suspend himself. It didn't slow his descent, however. It was coming in fast. He was too late, nothing he could do now. Oh dear.

He opened his eyes to find himself suspended a few inches away from the ground. He says ground – but really it was a metal grate hanging above boiling lava. He dropped the last few inches onto his feet, Viper and the two men joining him moments after.

"See! I told you," she said complacently, even though there was no way she could have known, "this is why I'm in charge, and you are just my lackey." At the word lackey, Jack scowled at her. He was his own man, if he wanted he could finish with all three of them and get away from this accursed place. Well actually, he couldn't. They need Murum to even be able to get out.

"Come on," he said, deciding that taking the lead was the best he could do in terms of leadership. As he walked, he could feel the heat lining the metal. Hot steam slipped between the gaps of the metal grate, which wobbled dangerously as he walked. "Exactly how far down are we?"

Viper threw her hair back, the same colour as the boiling lava below. "Somewhere very close to the centre of the planet, I think. It was designed to be built close to the core, they essentially ran tests to see how close they could get without turning to ash."

"And then built it too close anyway," he moaned, "it's so damn hot." He could feel sweat rolling down his face, making him shiny.

"Oh, do stop whining, please."

As they moved further in, Jack found himself becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and not just because of the heat. There was a strange feeling as though they were being watched, and it wasn't nice.

They came to a wide iron door, thankful to find that it opened automatically for them as they approached. But then he realised that it hadn't in fact opened for them, but rather it opened for the people walking through from the other side.

There were three of them, men in shining armour like medieval soldiers. Their faces were completely covered by their helmets, and their silver armour had been blazoned with fire. It was unnaturally shiny, and had fiery patterns at its edges. They drew large swords. Jack could feel Viper's excitement rise at a new challenger. He was not feeling quite so positive.

Viper was the first forward, charging at her opponent with dual katanas in her hand. Jack rolled his eyes and pounced forwards.

A knight swung at him but he was able to dodge it easily, though it shook the grate, making him nervous.

He jumped towards the knight, dodging it's swings and flipping onto his back.

He looked up just in time to see Pollus being gutted by one of the swords. Treston let out a cry of horror and sped up his attacks. Laying a pattern of fisted combos onto the breastplate, actually causing a dent.

Jack kept his focus on the knight he was currently riding. His hand clasped around his neck, slipping his fingers upwards so that they were lodged under his helmet, and then he tore upwards. The helmet came off and the knight threw him a few metres forwards.

Now Jack could get a good look at his attacker. Damn. That was no human, in fact, the knight didn't have a face. There was skin, and a head, but no face. Somehow it was still able to see though.

"Let's face it," said Jack, "oh wait, bad choice of words." The knight came closer, raising the sword.

"We both know you're facing death. Okay, that one was intentional." He slipped to the side out of range of the sword, and swung round to kick him. The knight stumbled back against the grate, teetering on the edge.

This was his chance.

He jumped forwards, aiming a high kick into the top of the knight's chest, that would be enough. His foot flew through the air, almost there. He hovered next to his target, fingers wrapping round his ankle as the knight swung him round and loosened him over the edge.

Jack cried out in fear as he plunged down towards the lava. He reached out, feeling steam rushing past his face. His hands coiled around something, and he felt himself swing just above the lava. He opened his eyes to find himself hanging from a chain attached to the bottom of the metal grate.

Taking in as much breath as possible, hard because his throat was so dry from wailing, he climbed up.

Jack could feel the skin of his hand melting away under the heat of the conductive chain. It attacked his skin, prying his fingers loose and willing him to let go. But he refused to give up so easily.

He climbed back onto the grate, feeling relief flood through him, especially at the sight of the dead knights at his feet.

"That is gross," said Viper, eyeing up his mangled palms, "anyway, let's go."

"They weren't so tough," said Jack, "not for the most secure prison in the world."

Viper took the lead this time, running along the corridor. "Well they've been down here a long time without having to do anything. You'd get weak too being out of practice for that long." Jack was just glad to be out of those grates. It was cooler in these corridors, probably from the vents along the side which sucked up the hot steam.

Along the walls were cells, most of them were empty – some filled with corpses. He was starting to get a little nervous that this was all for nothing. Not only that, but if Murum was dead, then there would be no way for them to get out. He didn't voice these concerns to Viper, however. He would have to work extra hard to stop her thinking of him as weak.

His fears were tarnished when they reached the final cell. Murum must have seen them coming because he was already stood up and packed to go. Admittedly, packed meant that he had stuffed a piece of stale bread, which he'd been saving, into his pocket. But packed none-the-less.

"Why didn't he just walk through the bars?" asked Jack, poking them. There was nothing strange about them.

Murum was the one who spoke up. "Because this cell saps your magical ability," he said, his voice was cold and guttural, "while in here, I can't walk through anything." With his question answered, Viper stepped forward and messed around on the keypad to their side.

There was no way she would be able to do it.

The bars sunk into the ground allowing them to escape.

A loud sound like an explosion echoed down the corridor, and a light was filling it. Jack suspected that lava was flowing down it ready to flood them. They had a bit of time yet.

"We need you to get us out," said Viper, "then we have a small job for you. A favour for our help." He nodded, watching the lava that filled the corridor towards them. "Anytime now would be good."

But first Murum had one last thing to do. He approached Treston, who didn't falter. Not even looking away. Murum drew back his hand and pressed it straight into Treston's head. Now he did react, crying out with pain as Murum's arm tense. Blood poured out of Treston's mouth, and he dropped to the floor, completely and truly dead.

"What the hell was that for?" cried Jack.

Murum took his hand out, all bloody. "My magic has been sapped, so I can perform less amazing feats. I can only take the two of you, he was just a burden."

Viper nodded as though she was okay with that. Jack said nothing, how could he possibly be okay with it? Jack was not a team player, he really wasn't. He hated working with people, for people, or even around people. But he knew the one basic rule of it all. DON'T KILL THE PEOPLE ON YOUR SIDE.

They linked hands with Murum, Jack having to hold the bloody one. Then they ran towards the wall and felt themselves float straight through it. Jack found himself rising, with an unnatural sense of gravity in his stomach. He wanted to be sick, but kept it in. Then they touched down on the surface, and Jack puked everywhere.

"The lovely smell of freedom," said Murum, enjoying the cold breeze brushing against his cheeks.

"That's not freedom," said Jack looking up, "sorry, that was me."

12

CLAIRVOYANT TRICKERY

Mercy

When Mercy awoke, the world still appeared to be spinning. Swirls of darkness clouded her vision until they were eventually replaced by blurred shapes of various colours. There was a distinctive smell of rot filling her nostrils, and she was beginning to feel her senses return.

She stumbled forwards, holding out her hands in front of her. She felt something metal, and long. Oh no.

Metal bars. Enclosed spaces were something that Mercy was never good with. Some might say that it was her phobia, though she would argue that she was fearless. Although, she was aware that her last encounter with Viper went some ways to disproving that fact.

Slowly her vision returned and her fears were confirmed, she was in a small cell. Clearly she wasn't being held by any kind of official body otherwise they would have had to make the space a little bigger, there was no care for human rights here. In fact, she was surprised to even see a small toilet – or hole in the ground, as it should be described – sat in the corner, though she imagined that it would be a pretty dire circumstance for her to actually be willing to use it. Already a tray of mushy food had been pushed underneath the bars. It didn't look particularly appetising but there was little choice other than to eat it anyway.

She tried to drag herself towards it, but her entire body cried out with internal pain, willing her to just collapse on the floor and fall unconscious once again. It didn't come to that, she had been trained to resist all instincts that her body attempted to drill into her no matter how strongly it wanted to obey. It's how she'd survived for this long, control over her body and emotions. If she was starting to fail at this then she feared she might not be long for this world. To be honest, that was a fear, even with her skills. It certainly wasn't looking great.

Taking a deep breath, she gritted her teeth and rolled over onto her knees, then onto her feet and using the wall she managed to stand. Rather than getting used to it, she ended the pain by snatching up the tray and falling backwards so that she was sat on the hard bed parallel with the back wall. It wasn't comfortable, but she certainly felt better for having something to prop up and lean against, she felt supported rather than imbalanced as she had before. The next challenge was one she really didn't want to do, worse than fighting any of the monsters and killers she had been able to slay. Eating that food.

She wasn't even sure it was fit for human consumption, but she was certain they weren't trying to poison her because she could be useful. So, she used the disposable, wooden spoon to scoop up a small pile of the mush, then she licked a tiny bit off the corner. She grimaced. Normally things were not as vile as they looked, though it wasn't a stretch to say that this definitely was. At least it was bad enough for her to hurl the tray into the wall rather than quenching the hunger pains that had built up in her stomach.

She cursed herself for becoming distracted. This wasn't what her training taught her. When captured by the enemy, you don't sit there enjoying their hospitality, no, you search for a way to escape and then get the hell out of there. Not that they had directly taught her how to get out of metal bars. Her magic wasn't exactly good for breaking through things, in fact, it was pointless unless there was someone that she could invade with her mind. But there were no guards, everywhere was completely deserted.

She checked for weaknesses all along the bars, any small gaps that she could expand enough to climb through, even hidden passages. Damn. She thought Patience watched too many films. No matter what she tried, she just couldn't get results. Just when she had given up, a face appeared between the bars. It was an ugly face with milky white skin that was covered in horrible, red scabs. His smile widened to show small needle-like teeth.

"Hello, Missy," he said. His voice was cruel and tormenting, somehow he stood out from the rest of them, like he didn't quite belong there. Maybe that could be because it was easy to tell that he was a psychopathic killer, and normally people like that don't react well to authority. They don't like being told who they can and can't kill. "Seems I've been reduced to escorting you someplace."

Mercy stepped back. "Go ahead, suppose I haven't got much choice anyway."

"No, no choice at all," he laughed, "you're like a caged rat, but just a little more ugly."

"You're the one to talk."

"I admit, looks never were my strong point, but I make up for it in other ways."

Mercy smiled. "Give me my swords and I'll show you how I make up for it."

"We'll be having none of that, Missy," he said, "name's Jack Ripper, and as I hear it, you're in no fit state to fight back. So, I wouldn't think about it, otherwise I might not be as nurturing as Madame Viper."

He sounded slightly sarcastic as he addressed her.

Mercy showed hints of a smirk. "So, she's your boss."

"I'm not a slave to anyone, especially not that woman."

"Yet here you are doing the small jobs. I bet she doesn't even tell you what their plan is?"

"Yes, I'm important see. They tell me things."

Mercy had hit a nerve. "Are you sure? It sounds like you're their pet. I hate to say it, but that's all I can see."

"I ain't no pet," he cried, "not a pet!"

"Well, why don't you prove it? Just let me out of here, I will make it worth your while. Prove that you are your own man."

Jack twisted into an angry smile. "Don't think I can't see what you're trying to do, I'm not stupid."

"Oh, I bet."

"And I can see powers, I know you're a clairvoyant. You try to worm your way inside people's brain and make them do things for you."

"Like Viper is doing to you."

"But it won't work, I won't fall for it." Jack opened the cell door and pulled her out, pushing her in front to force her to walk. "You have an appointment.... and I'd hate for you to be late."

Mercy sighed hopelessly. "Wouldn't that be awful."

They made their way through the corridors of what appeared to be some kind of facility. At one point Mercy thought she heard the sounds of heavy machinery in a room to her side, but her knowledge about factories were limited, so she couldn't pinpoint where she was. Her exposure to the facility was rather restricted. By the time they turned off into a small room that looked like an office, she hadn't properly got to see any parts of it.

Viper was already sat in the seat on the other side of the desk. Jack led her in and sat her down opposite, offering no restraints. Viper must have felt confident that her injuries would hold her back, or maybe it was confidence in her own abilities. Either way, Mercy was struggling to even walk, let alone strike out and engage in a successful fight.

Viper locked her fingers and stretched her legs out onto the front of the desk.

"You took your time," she said, "not that it matters."

Mercy frowned. "I thought I'd be meeting this 'Mr Big'."

"My boss is a very private man. He prefers to orchestrate events in more of a backseat position, watching from afar, so to speak. So in effect, it is my boss who sits before you, but acting through me."

"You're his.... representative."

"Exactly," she said, sitting up straighter, "he is powerful, but if the Luminary were to find out his identity, it could be catastrophic for his plans, at this point. However, in just a few short days he will no longer matter. My boss will be unstoppable."

"Why are you too scared to say his name?"

"What? I'm not scared?"

"Then say it."

"I am not scared."

"Then say his name. Go on, say it."

Viper waved her hand. "This is irrelevant gossip. We are both grown-ups here, so I feel that maturity should be the manner in which we lead this conversation."

"So no fart jokes," she said, "is that what you're trying to say?"

Viper scowled. "Well that would certainly bring down the intelligence of the conversation, but that's not strictly what I meant. Only that we can approach this in a way that is clear and succinct." She leaned forward, trying to disguise her face with a pleasant expression. "You have information which I need, and you're going to give it to me. And here's where the honesty comes in. If you don't tell me, you're not helping anyone. We have broken a phasewalker out of the vault, in a few days he will be strong enough to walk through the protective barrier and retrieve the journal. You are only stalling the inevitable."

Mercy narrowed her eyes. "Looks like you'll just have to wait then, because I'm not telling you anything." Viper remained calm as though she hadn't said anything. Then she stood up, walked around to the other side of the desk and lowered herself to the same level as Mercy.

Oh God. She really wanted to hit her, though she suspected that Viper would have no trepidation to hit back.

"Don't test me," she growled, "I could cause you unimaginable pain."

Mercy smiled. "We can make a night of it. And do you know what the most amusing thing is? I know everything you need to know, but you'll never be able to get it."

She closed her eyes and a cold sensation washed over her. Her mind suddenly became blank, she couldn't remember anything about the journal, or the location of the Lamina. Nothing. "You could get the most skilled clairvoyant in here to explore my mind, but all they would meet is dead ends. I've put up a wall in my mind, blocking the information even from me. No amount of torture or reciting boring poems can get me to talk, because I literally don't know the information anymore."

Viper pulled back her fist and rammed her knuckles into Mercy's face, making the world spin. For a moment her mind seemed to go blank as though all knowledge of her existence was falling away as she desperately tried to reach out and maintain a hold of it.

Mercy. That's my name. Yes, that was it.

Viper stepped in and laid a kick into the centre of Mercy's chest, causing the chair to rock backwards until it collided with the floor.

Everything went dark. Her identity slipped away again, but this time she couldn't keep a grip of it. It seemed to evaporate into the distance and didn't return.

She found herself wondering who she was. Where was she? Why was she here?

Her breathing sped up as she fell into a state of panic, fear spreading over her. A red headed woman was stood over her. She looked angry, and was directing that towards her. Had she done something wrong? If she had, she couldn't remember.

The red headed woman raised her boot, it seemed so big from all the way up there. Then it plummeted through the air. She didn't even see it land, but she felt it. She felt it as she was plunged into the darkness.

13

SEA OF SPIRITS

Patience's mouth opened wide as she gawped at the bloody x which had been drawn onto the wooden floorboard. She wondered why it was there, but that wasn't at the front of her mind. What she was really thinking about was Mercy's safety. Blood was never a good sign, that was pretty obvious.

Grim must have known what she was thinking. "I don't think this blood was lost in an attack."

"You mean Mercy cut herself?" said Patience.

"I think so. Remember when I took a sample of Bernard's blood, and said that Mercy might be able to locate him. She might have done a similar thing here, leaving a trail for us to follow."

"But that didn't work before."

"No, because it was being blocked. I feel confident we can make this work though."

She remembered something. "You said that the admin of the Imperium was a clairvoyant so she could wipe the mind of any mortals that wandered in accidentally. She could help us."

"Well, it needs a pretty powerful sorcerer," he said, "it's not as simple as plucking a memory and disposing of it."

"We have to try it though." He nodded.

Wasting no time, they climbed into Bessy and set off down the road. At first she thought they were going to the Imperium, but then they took a left turn rather than a right at the crossroad.

She tried to read Grim's blank eyes. "Are we not going to the Imperium?"

"No," he said, "I got a text from Mortus. We have to go see him."

"We're in a bit of a hurry."

"He said it's urgent. Besides, maybe he'll help us rescue her." At the word 'rescue', Patience sat back and smiled. In too many movies they would just sit back and focus on the main task, abandoning people to their fate. Not here. They were going to rescue her. No man, well woman, gets left behind.

They parked outside Mortus' house, not waiting to slip in through the front door. When they couldn't find him, they climbed down into the basement.

He was sat cross legged in the centre of the room, though his eyes were wide open and greeted them as they entered.

"About time," he said, there was something about his voice that had pace to it, quite different to the drawl of his tone the last time they met.

"What is it?" said Grim, helping him to his feet.

There was an uncomfortable pause. "It's Bernard," he said, turning to talk to Patience, "he's dead... I'm sorry but his spirit has recently passed through."

Suddenly, time seemed to freeze as everything else became irrelevant, nothing else mattered. Not the Lamina, not Mercy. Nothing. Her uncle was dead.

Tears began to well up in her eyes as her stomach cried out, though she wiped them away once she realised that they were both looking at her.

"I'm sorry," said Grim, this time his voice had no patronisation, only sincerity, "he was a good man, and lived a good life."

Mortus bowed his head slightly. She could tell he wasn't finished. "He wanted to speak to you," he said, "as a spirit."

"Is that possible?" her voice came out harsh and rasping, but she just felt fortunate that there were any sounds at all.

"Yes, it is possible for you to spirit walk with me and speak to your uncle. It is your decision though, some don't take to it very well. I won't be able to go in with you since all my power is taken up from sustaining you in that state, you'll be alone."

"I want to do it," she said stubbornly. No way was anyone going to steal the chance to talk with her uncle for the last time, if not to answer her questions, then just to say goodbye.

"Alright," he said, "sit down in the middle, there." It was only as he stepped aside that she realised there was a chalk symbol like a pentagram etched onto the floor, though it had seven points rather than the usual five. She sat in the middle of it and crossed her legs like she had seen him do. "Just relax, don't get scared because you are perfectly safe."

"I thought you said some don't 'take to it'," she said.

His eyes looked upwards. "Well, some are driven completely insane by the process, but I'm sure you will be fine."

"I have to say you're not filling me with confidence."

Grim laughed. "Didn't I say he would depress you?"

"Yeah," she said, "but you never told me he would literally drive me into insanity."

"It happens to the best of us."

She took a deep breath and linked her index finger and thumb into a loop, wondering if she should hum.

She dropped the fingers when the two of them looked at her strangely.

"Ready to begin?" he asked. She nodded. "As I say, just relax. Nothing will go wrong, probably."

He closed his eyes and screwed up his face, splaying his hands out in front with his fingers outstretched in all directions. After a moment, shadows began to reach from his fingers, moving towards Patience. She took one last scared look at Grim before a shadowy cocoon formed around her, blocking her off from the world.

In some ways, for a moment at least, she felt an ethereal sense of solitude, just sat there on her own. It no longer felt like she was crouched down in some dingy basement. She was completely and utterly alone with her thoughts. For a while she dreaded leaving this peace and heading into the world of the spirits, but she looked forward to seeing her uncle one last time.

She became drowsy. It might have been her imagination but it also felt like the cocoon was getting smaller, her breathing became tougher and her movements felt sluggish and restricted. There wasn't even time to register that she passed out because she immediately jumped up again, awake.

Her eyes scanned the environment. It was very dark, with a crusted floor like scolded rocks, and a purple sky with meteors floating off in the distance. She looked up to see a blood red moon, like a deadly eye that watched her from above.

Patience climbed to her feet, and stood over a few patches of withered grass, before walking for a few minutes. It seemed like she was in the middle of nowhere, until she reached a wooden sign saying ' River of Woe', pointing north. Seemed to be a depressing enough name to be the place where the dead people go.

She followed the sign and kept walking, finally seeing something in the distance. On closer inspection, it appeared to be a harbour of some kind. A huge queue of people reached at least a mile away from it, but Patience just pushed through all the people.

"Sorry," she said, "coming through. I'm looking for someone." All of the people were extremely pale, some of them with gruesome injuries still showing on them. They all stared at her, most likely because she was skipping the queue. It was a very 'un-British' thing to do, but rules and customs were there to be broken.

It took a while, but she managed to wade her way through to the front of the line. In front of her stood a large man, waiting at the side. He was topless, showing his huge muscles, larger than any man she'd ever seen in the mortal world. His eyes were red with a demonic glow, and his fingers curled into a fist that resembled massive boulders.

"Hello," she said, looking him up and down. He had a name badge pinned into his skin – literally it was threaded through his actual body – naming him as Charon, just like a supermarket assistant might have.

"Charon is it? Where have I heard that name before?"

"You're not dead, whelp," he growled, "why does Charon have the displeasure of looking upon your measly body?"

Patience scowled. "Excuse me?" she said, but he ignored her, "I'm looking for someone. Bernard Gillespie, my uncle."

"Never heard of him."

Her eyes wandered passed him, stretched out in front of her was a giant river leading into mist. It wasn't so much a river, but rather a gigantic sea, with thousands of little rowing boats floating across it.

Then her eye caught sight of someone.

Her uncle was in one of the boats. She would have to be quick otherwise he would be lost to the mist.

Without thinking, she shoved past Charon and dived into the water. In an instant she was consumed by the blackness of it, filling her lungs and her mouth and every other part of her body. She couldn't breathe, and found herself sinking so low that she could hardly see the light of the blood moon above her.

A hand grabbed her and she was pulled to the surface, she took a deep inhalation of air as she collapsed on the boat. She wasn't given much time to recover because arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Patience, I knew you'd come," said her uncle. He felt cold and clammy like something dead, though at least he was solid.

"Yeah, just had to get past that big scary dude, but Mortus brought me here."

Bernard nodded. "I've already seen him, Mortus and I had a good old natter."

"After meeting him, I highly doubt that."

"He's alright once you get to know him," he said, "you shouldn't judge a book by its incredibly scary, zombie outer layer." He looked down at her ring finger. "I see you got what I left you, what's been happening?"

Patience told him everything, each tiny detail about the last few days. He was a very good listener,

'ooh'ing and 'ahhh'ing at just the right points, biting his nails on the bits that were particularly scary, as though they were making up tales by the camp-fire.

"And then we got here. I know we need to find the Lamina, but we can't just leave Mercy."

"It is a very awkward situation, I'll admit," he said, "but at least Grim is looking after you. He was always a good friend, a strange friend, but a good one. He'll look after you."

She gave a sly smile. "I think it's me looking after him to be honest."

"Of course it is."

It seemed about the right moment to ask all the questions that she'd been dying to ask – maybe dying was the wrong word considering she was currently floating in the River of Woe.

"Are you a sorcerer? What happened? Where is the Lamina?"

He held up his hand to silence her. "Woah, steady on, girl," he said, "one at a time. First, question number one is pointless because Grim can answer all those, we don't have much time so we have to focus on the necessary. Question two is irrelevant and unimportant right now. As for number three, I don't know."

"But it's in your journal."

"I'm afraid I had a clairvoyant wipe my mind of all that information. Yes, it is still in the journal, but I couldn't risk my head being invaded."

"I see," she said, "okay, so what was that message all about? Bathe this letter in a bask of Moonlight.

What does that even mean?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Isn't it obvious, Moonlight. It isn't the concrete noun, meaning the light from the moon in the sky. Didn't you notice the capital letter, it is a proper noun, meaning the name of a place."

"Moonlight is a place?"

"Indeed, the Moonlight Hotel. I once spent a few days there, they do a really nice roast, but don't touch the lamb."

"So, if I go there, what will it show me?"

"I can't remember, must have been important though." She felt a cold sensation as the boat started to go into the mist. She was struggling to see her uncle just a few inches in front of her. "I'm sorry, Patience, the time is up. You must go otherwise you'll be brought with me to the afterlife, or darkness, or whatever the hell is waiting for us."

"Can't you come with me?"

"I'm afraid not," he said, "spirits can't exist in that world. I would just fade into nothing, cease to exist.

I'm sorry." She buried her head into his shoulder to hide the tears that were falling from her eyes.

"But I'm gonna miss you."

"I know, little one, but life will move on. And now..."

A hand broke through the water and grabbed onto her. Patience fell backwards, getting one last look at her uncle before being fully submerged in the water.

She saw a glimpse of red eyes staring at her, the name badge Charon, and then strong hands gripping the sides of her head. It began to collapse in on itself as pain shot through her.

She awoke to find that the cocoon was gone. Her breathing was too fast as adrenaline shot through her, she tried to remain calm and get her body under control.

If it wasn't real, then why had she felt pain?

"It's ok," said Grim, helping her up, "you're not insane, are you?"

She managed a small smile. "No more than I was before."

"That's rather troubling," he said, "just kidding, it's a relief of course."

"Did you see him?" asked Mortus.

"Yes," she said, "and then I got my head crushed by that big dude, Charon."

Mortus nodded. "He's not a particularly nice deity. He orchestrates the River of Woe. It is said that he is employed by Hades, but legends are about as believable as fairy tales."

"I'll believe just about anything by now."

Grim helped her up the stairs and onto one of the sofas in the living room. It felt good to have some support, she didn't realise at the time how strange it felt to be in that world. It was settling to have air and gravity working in the normal way that she was used to.

"Did you find anything useful?" said Mortus.

Grim frowned. "She went in there to say goodbye."

"It doesn't matter," she said dismissively, "as a matter of fact, I did. I found out the truth to the riddle, you know the letter. He meant Moonlight, as in the place, the hotel."

"The Moonlight Hotel?" said Grim, "I know it. But first, we have to save Mercy. We don't know what she read or what information she could give them. If we're too slow they might even get to the Lamina before us."

"And she might die."

Grim nodded, and then turned to Mortus. "You coming?"

"Well," said Mortus, "I haven't been in the field for years."

"So, that's a yes?"

"Of course."

It felt good to have a team, it made her feel part of something. She still felt like she was tagging along rather than an equal, but having more people made her feel a little better. Safety in numbers and all that.

Besides, he was dead, maybe that made him immortal.

"Now are we going to the Imperium?"

Grim smiled. "Now we are going to the Imperium."

14

A VERY CUNNING RESCUE

The Admin looked quite surprised when Grim said that it was her whom they had come to see, not the Luminary. Something in her smile told Patience that it was a rare occurrence.

"What can I do for you?" she said politely, twirling her dark hair around her finger.

Grim leaned on the desk with his palms resting on the wood. "Mercy, you know the clairvoyant that normally helps me, has been kidnapped. We have a sample of her blood, we were wondering if you could locate her for us."

"Of course."

"You can do it?"

"I've done it before," she said, "it's simple enough once you know how. Could you fetch me a map?"

Grim must have seen this happen before because he had brought the map with him from the passenger-side compartment of Bessy. He handed it to her. "Thank you." She also took the vial of blood from him.

It was a very strange process, and Patience watched in awe. The Admin laid the map out flat on the desk, and closed her eyes as she dipped what looked like a quill in the blood, using it as ink. The tip of the quill hovered above the map, scanning the image below, and then eventually it came down hard on a specific point on the map.

"Here," she said, "that's where she is."

Mortus scratched his head. "I know that place, it's a banana factory."

"Don't bananas grow on trees?" asked Patience, confused.

"Well, yes, but there are factories to synthesise them. You know, make them yellower and more banana-ry."

"Now you're just making this stuff up."

Grim sighed, scooping up the map. "Anyway, we know where she is, so I guess we'll be off."

The Admin stopped him in his tracks. "Wait, you know where she is, but you'll be recognised immediately. But I have a way you can get inside."

"Go on."

"You probably know many different types of clairvoyants. Some specialise at manipulating people's minds, whereas others like me have other skills. For example, I can create glamours."

"What's that?" said Patience.

It was Grim who answered. "It's a spell which affects your appearance. Well it doesn't actually change what you look like, it just tricks everyone who sees you into seeing something else. Like a disguise that isn't there, only in the mind."

"And that will get us in?"
"The body I can change," said the Admin, "but you'll have to find your own clothes."

"That won't be a problem," said Grim. Without further ado, the Admin stepped out from the desk and went around to meet them. One by one, she placed her hand over their face, with her index finger pressing into the centre of their forehead. Patience was last, and felt the effects straight away.

Her face went cold, and then the sensation fell across her entire body until she felt something like a bubbling rise up inside her. It was over in a heartbeat.

"I don't feel any different." The Admin handed her a mirror and her eyes widened.

According to her reflection, she was a woman in her mid-twenties with beautiful flowing, golden hair.

Her smile was dazzling, and her eyes were like sapphires. She could get used to this. "Can I make this permanent?"

The Admin laughed. "I'm afraid not, the affects will wear out in a few hours. Should be more than enough time to get in and out of the factory."

Patience looked to the side. Mortus was a tall dark haired man, his jaw line was exquisite and defined.

Then she saw Grim, and burst out laughing.

"Okay, very funny," said Grim, looking in the mirror, "why was I the one to get this body?" His body was large, there was still muscle, but with years of constant 'burger eating' on top. His ginger hair was greasy and long, while his face was chubby with a gigantic curved nose.

"Brilliant," cried Patience, roaring with laughter to the point that she almost collapsed on the floor.

Even Mortus let out a brief smile out of the corner of his mouth.

"Anyway," said Grim, "if you're done being immature, we should go and save Mercy."

"Oh I'm not, but yeah, let's go."

They got into Bessy, Grim adjusted the seat to accommodate his new body, and then they set off.

Parking a little way away from the factory, they climbed out and walked the rest. It wasn't guarded, probably because armed guards would give away the disguise of it being just an ordinary banana factory.

If they were to find a uniform, then they should be able to just walk right in. So, they stood outside and waited.

As if it was destiny, or just pure luck, three men walked around a corner, all of them wearing a factory uniform. They didn't say anything as they got close, though they did let their eyes get caught up in Patience's beauty. She giggled.

Grim and Mortus glanced at each other, nodded, and then pounced. It was over before Patience even had a chance to realise what was going on.

Grim knocked the first man off his feet with agility she thought impossible from someone with a body like that. Mortus wrapped his arm around the neck of the other, while splaying his free hand out and slapping the last factory worker around the face with a whip of shadows. The man in his arms went limp and was dropped to the floor.

"That was easy enough," said Grim, wiping his hands together, "and I hope you're not gonna keep getting too busy being ogled at to help us."

"What can I say? I'm beautiful."

"That's one way of putting it." They dragged the bodies out of sight and stripped them down to their underwear. Patience slipped into the clothes and found they weren't the best fit. It was men's clothing after all, not really suitable for her sleek, glorious body. She had to keep reminding herself that this wasn't actually her that looked like that, but rather that everyone (including herself) was being fooled.

"Now we don't look like ourselves, and we look like we work here," said Mortus, "so we should be able to get in alright."

"Things always tend to go wrong when I'm around Grim," said Patience, "so I wouldn't hold your breath."

Mortus smirked. "Don't worry, I've been on the field with Grim enough times to know that wherever he is, trouble is sure to follow."

"I am still here," said Grim. Laughing, she went around the front of the building and walked straight through the front door. This was a dream, just being able to waltz up to the front door of the enemy's lair, and just stroll in like she owned the place – probably a good idea because that would hide the fact that they weren't actually supposed to be there. Confidence was key, and she certainly had a lot of it.

As they walked it diminished slightly, Patience couldn't help but feel nerves biting at her. Not at the worry of getting caught, but she was worried that they in fact were an ordinary banana factory, and those men they just beat up were actually just regular guys trying to earn a living. She was almost looking for people with sinister looks or blood stained shoes to prove that they were right in breaking into the factory.

Damn, why was everyone looking so friendly?

"Where do we go?" she whispered, trying not to make it look obvious that they weren't supposed to be there.

"Just keep walking, we'll find her." Sure enough, after a few minutes of walking they came out into a corridor that looked completely different to the factory areas they had just traipsed through.

"This is more like it," said Patience, "a classic movie hideout if ever I saw one."

"Since when have you ever seen a bad guy base that looks like this one?"

"Shut up. I'm just trying to be optimistic." They kept going on. She knew they were getting close, even if Grim was sceptical. Which made it even more difficult to restrain her cheers when they walked around the corner to face a man with a giant club in his hands.

"This area is off limits," he growled, "go away."

Grim didn't move. "See, an off limits zone does make you wonder a certain question." He stepped forwards. "What exactly is it that is off limits?"

"One more step and I'm gonna have to hit you with this gigantic stick," he said, almost nervously, "don't think I won't do it. I've had lots of training."

"I doubt it." The man attacked first, rushing forwards with the club raised above his head, screaming something that either resembled a battle cry or a wail of terror, Patience couldn't decide.

Grim reacted instantly, extending his fingers out and causing wind to whip the club from his hands. Now that he was unarmed, the man jabbed towards his face. Grim closed his fist around the man's, squeezed until there was a disgusting crack, then he raised his elbow into his chin, knocking him out straight away.

"These people should really get some proper guards," he said, almost disappointed, "they're making this almost too easy."

"I wonder why that could be."

Naturally, they entered the room that was 'off limits'. It was fairly empty, for the size. There was medical equipment layering the sides of the walls, and a suspended bed in the middle. Lying on the bed, was a woman, strapped down tightly so that all the veins in her body popped to the surface.

"Mercy," Patience exclaimed, rushing forwards to the bedside. She undid all the restraints, allowing Mercy to breathe straight away. "Hello, can you hear me?"

She sat up in the bed, and looked around, her eyes wide open as she analysed her surroundings for what seemed like the first time. There were loud footsteps at the door like a stampede was heading their way.

"Ah," said Grim, "that makes sense."

"What does?"

"Why it was so easy to get in... they were expecting us." The first fireball jolted passed Patience's head, burning the edges of her shoulder blade. She snapped her head to the side and watched the four men entering, all of them with fireballs hovering in their palms. It took a moment, but Patience recognised them as the fearsome five – apart from Kensuke, who was suspiciously absent.

More fireballs flew in their direction, and Patience dragged Mercy behind the bed, which she tipped onto its side for cover. Mercy was still staring dully around the room, as though the colours of the flames fascinated her rather than scared her. Somehow she had forgotten who she was, and didn't seem to have a clue what was going on.

The tall man with pointed teeth appeared on the other side of the bed, but unlike last time she was prepared. Her heel clasped onto the side of the bed as she kicked it out, tripping him up. But he climbed up off the floor and scurried towards her.

She led Mercy away, and ushered her back away from the fight as a fist came her way. Patience blocked it, and countered with a sharp uppercut to the face. He faltered backwards, but didn't seem deterred. If anything he just looked angrier, and more dangerous.

He picked her up, holding her away so that even her kicking legs were unable to reach him. She struggled for a bit until his hands found her throat, and began to tense. Everything seemed to go dark, and all her efforts to create fire in her hand only succeeded in making sparks.

There was a thud as Mercy rammed her shoulder into the man, knocking him off balance and allowing Patience to fall to the floor. She looked at her, her eyes now panicking like a small child. She still didn't know who she was.

The man was more enraged now than ever. But he didn't advance. Instead, he kept his distance and let flames erupt from his hands, it then spread to the rest of his body until he was completely encased in flames.

"What the hell?" she cried. Even the man seemed shocked, and a little scared. Streaks of hot fire broke off from his body and attacked parts of the room like solar flares from the sun. It got more and more out of control until fire had filled the deeper part of the room.

"Run!" said Grim, already leaving the room. Mortus flung Mercy over his shoulder and followed Grim, Patience close at his heels.

As they ran, she could feel the heat attacking her skin. The flames trailing after them as they made their escape. There were screams behind them, and in front of them. Charred corpses lying in the paths which were blocked by the raging infernos.

Finally, they broke out the fire escape and into fresh air, rushing forwards just in time before a mighty explosion rattled the entire building, causing it to collapse in on itself. She could hear fire engines in the distance.

"What was that?" she said, breathing heavily.

Grim was checking on Mercy. "I'm not sure. That looked like something I've seen before, magically boosted powers."

"How can you magically boost magic?"

"Well, think of it like inserting more magical particles into your body than it can handle. But as you can see, it often has catastrophic outcomes because the sorcerer can't control it."

Mortus stepped in. "If you two are done chatting, Mercy needs medical attention." They nodded and put her in the car, before driving off towards the Imperium.

15

PLOTTING FOR REVENGE

Kensuke

It was sometime in the middle of the night, at least that's what Kensuke thought as he looked out the window. Stars filled the sky in a scene of utter beauty. He might have enjoyed it if he wasn't so angry.

He turned to face the metal bars that blocked his path. It wasn't nice being on this side of them, he was used to being on the other side, looking in on the helpless prisoner that he would soon be torturing. Now he was just outright lying to himself. He had never successfully captured anyone, or tortured anyone. He hadn't even killed anyone, not really. His first victim slipped over and cracked their skull open, but that was only because they had failed to observe the 'wet floor' sign that had been so obviously placed in his path. He hadn't had anything to do with it, not really.

A part of him always wondered if he would ever end up locked away. Although, whenever he had thought about it, he didn't mind. At least he would have been locked up with the knowledge that he had made a difference in the world, that they were keeping him behind bars to protect society from his deadly wrath. And yet here he was, in a mortal prison, locked up for inappropriate public disruptions, whatever that meant.

Needless to say, confinement wasn't all that it had cracked up to be. In fact, he was swiftly becoming aware of a new fear of small spaces that he was developing. At some points it felt like the walls were closing in on him, which of course they weren't. They were mortals. Far too dumb to come up with innovative methods for torture. Unlike him, they were bound to the laws of physics.

There had already been a few times when he considered using magic to escape from the bars, but he knew that if he did, within moments that Grim fella would come swooping in and throw him into a magical cell for the rest of his life. He had heard stories of the man, terrible tales of his anger. He would much rather face a mortal prison than the likes of him, he who isn't constrained by anything apart from the leash the Luminary has on him, and even that has the potential to snap. It wouldn't be the first time.

His thought processes were broken by a guard patrolling past him. Kensuke rushed forwards, wrapped his fingers around the metal bars and pushed his face through the gap. "Excuse me," he said, trying to get the guard's attention, "yes, hi. You there, can I talk with you?"

"Stand back," ordered the guard, his hat was hanging low over his face, though Kensuke could imagine the glaring eyes beneath them, "shut your trap, or I'll shut it for you."

Kensuke puffed out his chest and pulled his shoulders back, trying to reach up to as far a height as he possibly could. "You can't talk to me like that. I am Kensuke Addington, you cannot address me in that manner."

"You're a pathetic little man," said the guard, "and I'm not paid enough to sit here chatting to the likes of you." He wandered off, leaving Kensuke standing there with a bright red face which flushed as soon as the guard was out of sight. He bowed his head and sat down on the hard bed in the corner of his cell.

He should have known what a cliché he was before he tried to get into the 'villain scene'. Young boy who is given no respect grows up wanting people to appreciate him for who he is, finds a thrill in killing, or trying to kill and watching the guy fall over to his death, and then sets out for a quest to become the most terrifying man in the history of the universe. Yeah, pretty cliché.

Maybe he should make a new origin story for himself. It was only a matter of time until he had his own movie adaptation, so it might be a good idea to alter the story now before the reviews pour in.

As time went on, his thought processes seemed to become more and more scattered. He couldn't think a clear thought without gearing off in some other direction, often his quest for revenge. Grim and that girl might not have got him here, and may not in any way be to blame for him being 'inappropriate' in public.... but it was a hell of a lot easier to blame them than to admit his own incompetence. As the idea festered in his mind, it seemed to blaze like a fire. Although, like all fires, it eventually fizzled out until he was left with depressing, ashen thoughts.

There was a knock on the cell door. He shook his head and escaped back to reality, realising that it was morning already. Once again, the guard stood on the other side of the bars, huge bags under his eyes and a bored expression on his face as though he wanted Kensuke to hurry up.

"Come on," he said, "it's time to get you out."

Kensuke frowned. "You're not going to torture me, or lock me away for my lifetime, or take me out into the middle of nowhere and dump me in a desert where I can slowly dehydrate into a withered corpse?"

"Unfortunately not, as much as I would like to. You're getting out." A smile spread across Kensuke's face. He knew that bars couldn't hold him for long. While this wasn't how he had imagined his escape, being willingly released, it was good enough.

He strolled down the corridor, waving at all the sullen looking criminals, real criminals that had killed real people, before heading into the office and picking up his stuff. It felt good to have a coat again, it was awfully cold in there, and his tie – his glorious tie.

"See you soon," he said to the woman behind the desk, though quickly correcting himself at the raised eyebrows of the burly policeman, "well I hope not. I am done with crime, yep, never again." His last few words were filled with sarcasm. The guards didn't seem to notice though, probably because they didn't possess his level of wit, and couldn't comprehend what he was really trying to say.

He stepped out into the fresh air, feeling it beating against his face. It relaxed him, but at the same time it felt too peaceful. He was a villain, he couldn't like things such as fresh air or pretty stars, he was supposed to like blood and death and darkness.

As he walked, his hand slithered into the pocket of his coat. His eyes grew wider as he grabbed onto the solid object, which he had completely forgotten was there.

The mobile phone.

He opened it up, surprised to find there wasn't a password lock. Who doesn't have a password?

It defaulted onto some strange game where you throw birds at these circular pig creatures, strange. Then he closed off it and scrolled through the phonebook and information. His eyes lit up. Everything was on there, including a calendar, detailing where the girl, Patience Gillespie, would be and when. Oh, this was too good. Convenience was the meanest deity of them all, when it worked in his favour, that is.

He carried on down the path with a glowering grin harbouring on his face. He had been given the key to his revenge, or whatever the hell he was justifying her murder for. It didn't matter. It was time that he became a real villain. It was time he won himself the label of dangerous, deadly and dastardly.

Kensuke left the outside of the police station, setting off on a quest for revenge. And he was going to enjoy every single moment of it.

16

THE MOONLIGHT HOTEL

They all waited in silence as the doctor made her analysis. She leaned over Mercy, pushing various instruments such as a stethoscope against her chest before sighing and shaking her head. Grim kept patting Patience on her shoulder, reassuring her that Doc Remedy had fixed far worse than a simple loss of memory.

"It's not that simple," said the doc, "Miss Mercy put up a memory block in her mind to stop even her from accessing the information. The complication is that as she was beaten, she lost control of it. The block grew wider until it filled her entire memory system."

"You're going to be able to fix it though, right?" said Patience, her mouth becoming dry as she stepped forward, and her eyes remaining fixed on the sedated body of Mercy.

Doc Remedy brushed her maroon hair over her ear where a pen lay. "Possibly, but it will be difficult. It is no longer about the mind, even the best clairvoyant would be unable to break through."

"So," said Grim, "what do we do?"

"She will need immediate surgery, I have to go inside her and manually cut off the brain waves from flowing into her brain. That will stop the magic circling her mind and break the barrier naturally."

Patience shuddered. "You're going to cut into her brain, won't that kill her?"

"It's a dangerous procedure."

Grim squeezed her shoulder. "Patience, Doc Remedy is the best, and magical surgeries aren't like mortal ones. We can do far more than any mortal could, and what other choice do we have?" She bowed her head, knowing he was right. "There's no point us staying here, so I suggest we follow Bernard's clues."

"To the Moonlight hotel?"

"It seems so."

They began to walk out. "Call us as soon as she wakes up, or if she doesn't. Just keep us informed."

Doc Remedy nodded her head. "Of course."

As they climbed into Bessy, she realised that Mortus was no longer with them. He must have slunk off into the darkness while they were worrying about Mercy. It didn't seem all that important.

The drive was silent for the first ten minutes. All she could hear were the wheels scraping against the road as they skidded around corners.

Grim broke the silence. "Cheer up."

"Cheer up? Our friend is lying in a coma, possibly dying or never knowing who she is again. How can we possibly be happy out of all this?"

"Well we managed to get in and out of there alive. The doc knows what's wrong and is trying to fix it, and now we have what could be our most solid clue since the start of all this."

She lowered her eyes. "Sorry, you're right." She sat in silence for a moment before letting the corner of her mouth slip into a smile. "Has anyone ever told you how big your head is, seriously, it's massive?"

"That's more like it."

"So, what's this Moonlight Hotel thingy that we're going to?"

Grim's eyes dazzled as though he was replaying a memory in his head. She wondered if he had been there the time Bernard had visited it. "It's called a hotel, but in reality it is anything but. Think of it more as an asylum, or a safe haven for those who don't have a place in society."

"Like you."

"This is going too far. Anyway, it is place for monsters, who are perfectly friendly in themselves. Some of them are the nicest people you could ever meet, but no matter how kind they are, society just doesn't accept them."

"That's sad," she said.

"Society sucks."

They pulled up outside the hotel. It was fairly late and they would have to get in and out quickly if they were to get back in time for a proper night sleep. Patience looked up. It resembled a skyscraper that reached high into the clouds, though she could see a faulty flashing sign high up near the top.

"How do no mortals walk in here?" she said, "it's not exactly subtle."

"Well there's nothing to suggest it's not a normal hotel, they just tell them they're fully booked. The plan is flawless."

"Not exactly." They walked in, finding themselves in an empty foyer. It was eerily silent, though most of the 'monsters' were probably hidden away deeper into the hotel.

They approached the reception desk where a short, fat man, with a sharply combed moustache, had his pointed nose stuck into a newspaper. "We're booked up," he said, without even looking up.

Grim dented the wood with his fist, though she could tell it was an accident. "Sorry," he muttered.

The man looked up, surprise spreading across his face. "Oh, it's you." He seemed unhappy to see him.

Was there anyone he hadn't annoyed? "Go ahead, just get out my sight. Go through before you break anything else, again" Maybe people hating him did have its benefits on the odd occasion, but this didn't make up for all the times that it made life harder.

They walked to the side and went through a set of double doors, and her eyes opened wide as she resisted the urge to clap her hand over her mouth. Now she understood everything.

A man strode past her. She says man, but really it didn't resemble a human male in any way apart from the humanoid figure. He was caped from head to toe in thick brown hair, his hands were huge like ginormous mittens and his dozen eyes blinked in sync.

"Good evening," he said, politely waving his hand towards them as he walked past as though there was nothing strange or unusual going on. Ahead of them was a man covered in scars, one of his eyes was missing. Another had green skin and a massive bulge on his stomach, and so on. There were loads of them, all with appearances that looked like something from another world.

"I see what you mean," she muttered, her mouth still hanging wide open.

"You should close it before your jaw hits the ground," he said, "don't look so surprised, or you'll offend them." They walked past a small café which attached itself to the 'real' hotel foyer, estranged customers sitting inside it. "We should go upstairs. Your uncle and I stayed here a few years ago, we were just passing through as we'd done a favour for the owner a while back, and we threatened to arrest him.

But anyway, I have a feeling that's where we'll find the clue." Patience nodded and let him lead the way.

They climbed a set of stairs, laden in a thick red carpet, and then went onto another spiral staircase which took them even higher. She looked up into the sky room, it felt like a tower even though it was just a separate part of the hotel. Certainly not a section which she was able to see from the outside. She shrugged, magic.

"Okay," said Grim, "let's just look around. There's bound to be some kind of clue around here somewhere."

Patience started scanning every inch of the floor as if each floorboard was somehow leading her closer to whatever she was looking for. "What's a clue?" she said.

"Well, it's some kind of entity which leads us further on in our investigation to find the Lamina, or Mr Big, or both."

"That's not what I meant, anyway. Why didn't we just go straight to the journal?"

Grim narrowed his eyes. "Seriously, I wonder what you were doing while watching all those films. It is never the most obvious answer. Except when you don't expect it."

"Like now."

"Yeah, oh right I'm not helping my case. What I am trying to say is that your uncle, God rest his soul, wanted us to come here for some reason. Whatever that might be, who are we to question the clues of a dying man?"

"Dead man," corrected Patience.

"Yes, thanks for that." They carried on searching, though Patience was betting on Grim finding something rather than her stumbling across something. It seemed like they were looking forever, and she became aware that she was looking through the same drawers for at least the fourth time.

"This isn't working," she said at last, "there's nothing here."

Grim scratched his chin, where his beard would be if he hadn't shaved his growing stubble that morning. "Maybe we missed something on the letter... do you have it on you?"

Patience took it from her coat pocket. It was torn and crumpled, but once she flattened it she was able to make out the words once more. Bathe this letter in a bask of Moonlight. It seemed so simple, yet so elusive at the same time.

She looked outside the open window, a small round glow being positioned on the floor. It was almost midnight, if not midnight already. No doubt she had been robbed of a proper night's sleep. She could already feel the skin under her eyes starting to sag.

"What does it mean?" she said, frustrated by it all, she never was good at difficult puzzles.

"I'm not sure."

She groaned, screwing up the paper in a fit of rage and tossing it across the room. As it fell, it streaked through the illuminated glow from the window, positioned in the centre. Her eyes opened wide. She had solved the riddle. Completely accidentally.

The paper began to glow, the light seemed to get absorbed into it as it formed a solid object. As it dimmed down she realised what it was, a key. She scooped it up off the floor and held it close to her eye, it was fairly small with small jewels embedded into the golden metal.

"It's beautiful," she said.

Grim sighed. "Yes, but that's not the important thing here. We have a key, which means?"

"We solved the riddle."

"You're really not grasping the gravity of this situation," he said, shaking his head, "what does a key open?"

"A lock."

"For God sake," he cried, "a DOOR, if there is a key there must be a door." Patience widened her eyes in realisation, he was right of course. It'd be a pretty useless key otherwise, and there was only one thing that key could possibly open, the door to wherever the Lamina was being kept.

"So, now we need to know where the Lamina is," she said, "so as the expert junior apprentice of high super detective Grim...."

".... Not really my title..."

"....I say we should go back to my uncle's house and finish what Mercy started. We need to find out where it is, surely it's finally time."

Grim nervously got her attention. "Well actually, see, I saw your schedule when you were flicking through your phone a while back. Didn't I see some kind of family gathering... or a work party, or something."

"Yeah, my dad is taking us to his work do, nothing big. Just gonna be a load of boring old men sat around sipping their wine, trying to make themselves look better than everyone else. I'll just make up some excuse so we can go after the Lamina."

"See, staying in your room and avoiding too much contact with parents, not being talkative and emotionless.... These are common teenage tropes. When you start making up excuses and spending even less time with them than you already do, they will start to notice how distant their daughter has become."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"You have to go."

"But..."

"No excuses, it's easy. You go to this work party, sip on your non-alcoholic fruit drink for a bit of the night, put on a fake smile. Pretend like it's nice to meet these people, and then go home. The day after we'll go to Bernard's and read the journal. We have the key, so there's no rush, Murum won't be ready for at least another little while."

"Grim, you don't understand. I can handle torture, excruciating pain. Hell, I could be killed by this Mr Big. But please just don't force me to spend an evening with my family. That is going too far."

"I knew you'd take it well." She groaned, narrowed her eyes, but stopped arguing. She knew she wasn't going to win.

She took a deep breath and repeated the same statement to herself over and over. It's only one night, you can do this. And then she went back to moaning and complaining, Grim seemed satisfied that he had effectively ruined her life. Okay, maybe she had tipped over the dramatic scale, but only just.

17

DULL FAMILY PARTIES

She woke up with the terrible thoughts that the big day had loomed, well it was only yesterday it was decided upon, so it hardly meant anything. On the bright side, Grim had given her a cheap mobile phone to replace her old one, just until she found Kensuke, kicked his ass and took it back. She looked forward to that day.

The day progressed in a very strange way, strange in terms of what her life had been lately. It felt like ages since she had spent the whole morning cycling through old movies, not having a decent meal but rather just snacking on small things they had in the fridge. Her parents would occasionally come in to ask if she was planning on doing anything productive, to which she replied, "unlikely". In a way, she enjoyed it. The normality of it all, but as time ticked by she felt a longing for thrills, for magic, for Grim.

Yesterday she had gone into a hotel full of freakish monsters, before that she was putting on a magical disguise and walking into a banana factory full of bad guys, and now she was sat consecutively watching the James Bond films. The only action she saw was through a screen, and even she could now tell that it was fake.

Eventually, it was time. Her mum came into her room and presented her with a long purple dress.

Dresses really weren't her thing, or makeup. It restricted her movement too much. So, it was only too easy to imagine her reaction as her mum unpacked a pair of high heeled shoes.

Her face lit up with a fake joy. "Oh, mum, you shouldn't have." She really shouldn't. "They're lovely."

"Anything for my little girl," she said, her smile tearing across her face like she was aware of the fact that the girl she called her little girl had spent the last week fighting bad guys and travelling to spirit realms. "Why don't you try them on?" Patience had to strain not to look angry, instead she gave a small nod and slipped them on. They fit perfectly, as well as high-heels ever fit at least. "Alright, get ready. We leave in ten minutes."

Seems her mum did remember how different she was. Normal girls her age would never be able to get fully ready in that time, but Patience wasn't a normal girl.

She was ready in five, and sat in the car before everyone else. To those who didn't know her, they might have been mistaken into thinking that she was keen. Her parents joined her shortly afterwards.

"You look lovely," said her dad, "I can see where you get your good looks from." Her mum smiled and tapped his leg with her hand before he finished. "You've got my genes in you for sure."

He didn't leave enough time to see her mum's reactions, before speeding off down the road. She described it as speeding for the sake of his dignity. In reality, it felt like they were crawling at a snail pace, compared to Grim he was so slow. Her dad drove, Grim raced.

They arrived outside the booked hall a little late, everything was in full swing. Not that it was much of a party. She had seen parties, there was dancing and crowds and loud music. This was not a party.

Everyone wore smart clothes, like suits and long dresses in a variety of bright colours, as they sipped their drink and pretended to laugh at each other's jokes. The only music was this boring classical piece that sounded like the type of whale song you might play to relax yourself. Which, while Patience admitted was what she needed (to calm down), she in no way appreciated this 'old person gathering' they called a party.

"This looks nice," said her mum, looking unsurely into the sea of people whom she didn't know. Her dad was more keen, hopping out the car and leading his wife and Patience forwards into the thick of things.

Her dad grabbed their hands and pulled them into a small gap, where a man was stood alone with his hands wrapped around a small glass of a clear drink. He was wearing a sharp suit and had soft eyes, with a smile full of white dazzling teeth. She couldn't help but feel he was finely crafted, and incredibly handsome.

"This is Terry," introduced her dad, "and this is my wife Glenda, and my daughter Patience."

Terry's eyes were fixed on her, his deep, penetrating eyes that looked like jewels within his sockets.

She suppressed an embarrassing giggle and smiled out the corner of her mouth. Realising how stupid she looked, her cheeks turned a shade of red and she glanced away, avoiding those beautiful eyes.

"Nice to meet you," he said, a slight Irish accent in his voice, a soft voice. "Kurt has told me so much about you." Which meant they'd never been mentioned. "You seem like such a lovely family, it warms my heart. I never was so lucky, but maybe one day." What an odd thing to say, but her mind brushed over it because it was said in that amazing voice with those handsome thin lips. "Anyway, enjoy the party, I've got to go and help with some of the boring logistics of the event, see ya."

Patience waved without saying anything, and when out of earshot her mum spoke. "He seemed nice."

Her dad nodded. "He's a top bloke," he laughed, "such a lad."

"Do you even realise the words that are coming out of your mouth?" Patience laughed, and then wondered off on her own. She never was the type to stick with her parents, she actually tried to avoid them as much as possible most of the time. Not because she didn't love them. They were family, just not a very cool family.

Her first destination, naturally, was the food table. She picked up a few cheese and pineapple sticks and shoved the food down her throat. She then picked up an orange drink which was held in a wine glass, and then begun to sip gently on the edges to make herself look posh. Probably just made her look stupid in reality though.

As she stared out into the crowd, her eyes began to blur as she could only see large amounts of movement. There were so many people that she could no longer focus on them as individuals, but rather just one giant wall of colours. It made her feel a little dizzy, which wasn't good considering her (mum's) choice of clothes.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, at least that was something different. She hated dresses without pockets, which was almost all of them, but this one did. She flipped it open and stared at the message, it was from Grim.

Get out of there

Her eyes focused on the words and an aurora of confusion set in. She replied, asking why. For the next few minutes she stood there anxiously tapping her foot and glancing around the room. Damn it. Why was he taking so long? It buzzed again.

He's coming, get out of there NOW

Was Grim playing the pronoun game? Couldn't he just tell her who was coming, he made everything so difficult. Her mind thought of Mr Big, maybe it was him who was coming. She felt a hot flush flood over her at the thought. She had to get out the crowd, and according to Grim she had to get away.

Her mind wasn't working properly, she needed space to make a decision. Her eyes found a door on the other side of the room, so she pushed through the crowd and fell into a side room which was empty apart from the stacked tables which had been moved there to accommodate a larger space in the main hall.

Okay, now she had the space to think. If Mr Big was coming then she had no chance and would have to escape. No doubt he was after her. But what if he got here and she was gone, he might take it out on her parents and the rest of the people there. She couldn't let that happen.

The door opened to her side, she thought it was her dad, but then she looked up and realised it was Terry. His eyes met with hers as he got closer.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "I saw you come in and was worried, you look very hot."

"Thank you," she said, damn, embarrassing herself again. He meant she looked sweaty, why was she swooning at a man three times her own age. "I'm fine, really."

"Okay," he said, seemingly not noticing her previous mistake, "it's Patience, right?"

She managed a nervous smile, though she carried on pacing. "That's me, always has been and always will be."

"As is the nature of names." He leaned against one of the tables, his fingers locking in the middle as he swivelled his thumbs. "You know, you look tired."

She fingered the bags that were still under her eyes, it appeared that even makeup wasn't enough to conceal it. What she really needed was a glamour. "I know, I've not been sleeping that well lately."

Terry smiled broadly. "No doubt it's those adventures you've been having."

"Excuse me?" Her heart began to beat faster.

"Life as a teenager always is eventful," he said, "I had quite a quiet one, though I know others who've had anything but."

Patience sighed with relief. "Yeah, it's certainly eventful. Anyway, I better be going." She stood up and made a move for the door, and then stopped. Not on her own accord, but because his hand had closed around her wrist and restrained her.

"Terry?" she said nervously, "please let go."

"What are you gonna do, Patience?" he muttered, "run off to Grim." Those beautiful eyes of his turned a blackened colour, and then his mouth opened showing huge teeth that could hardly fit in his mouth.

She broke free of his grasp and took a step back. He advanced slowly.

"Why don't I step into the room over there?" he said, struggling to talk due to the size of his fangs, "I could slaughter everyone in the room, including those lovely parents of yours." Anger flared up inside her, while a fire flared on her palm. She tossed it at him, though he beat it aside and rushed forwards. She aimed a kick upwards, knocking him in the chin and realising that his body had the same feeling as a slab of metal.

She stumbled backwards, avoiding his terrifying punches that more than invaded her personal space.

There was only one option, she had to lead him away.

Her mind was made up. She looked towards the window, ran towards it and sprung forwards, using the element of the wind from her splayed fingers to smash the glass, giving her a safe path. Terry was close behind as she landed outside. One last glance at the hall which contained her parents, she would have to think up some excuse for leaving early later.

She put her head down and began to sprint in a direction, whacking out her phone and dialling the number for Grim. Seriously, what kind of modern phone doesn't have a contact book. When she had typed in the number, mistakes corrected, she pressed the green phone button and slid it against her ear. There were multiple subsequent beeping tones to tell her that there was no signal. Great. That's what she got for running into a forest.

Trees hung above her like a holey parasol, casting shadowy patterns on the ground. Brown leaves crunched under her as she ran, making it impossible to hide. He would know exactly where she was from the loud sounds she was making.

After a while, she glanced over her shoulder, skidded to a halt and then looked around. He was gone.

There was a terrifying roar as he flung himself down from the top branch of one of the trees, heading straight for her. She dodged the landing, and the jab that followed. His hands clutched the sides of her shoulder, bringing her closer for a murderous bite with those giant fangs, but she slipped from his grasp and snapped her foot into his side. She leapt backwards away from him, and moved further on, using the wind to speed her up as it pushed her along like a small child might push a toy car across the rug.

But the high heels were really wearing on her, she was surprised she had managed as much as that with them, as it was. She could just see herself falling over in some cliché movie moment, at least she didn't have glasses to fall off as well. That really would be generic.

Just as the thought of falling over and twisting her ankle popped into her head, she felt herself toppling to the floor. But as she looked forwards, it wasn't the ground she was moving towards, but rather a huge river.

It soaked her. Invading every inch of that dress until she was shivering with what could soon be hyperthermia. Terry dived in after her, scuffling through the water like a dog trying to furiously paddle for a few moments, and then he stopped and stared. His mouth opened wide as he cried out in pain. His hands flailing desperately. A part of her wanted to help him, but then she remembered the threat he'd made against her parents. In a strange turn of events, his body slowly dissolved into a liquid and got mixed up with the river. Ew. She was swimming in human remains, or remains of whatever the hell he was.

The river became rougher, picking her up and dragging her from side to side. She avoided the rocks on the edge, and wondered where she would end up. There was no way she was getting out.....

A hand reached down and grabbed hold of her, pulling her out the water.

She coughed water as though she was puking and then looked up to thank Grim. But it wasn't Grim.

Her eyes widened in shock as she looked up at a small man in a ridiculous looking suit.

"Good evening," said Kensuke, before driving his foot into her face, knocking her out cold.

18

THERAPY FOR KENSUKE

Lights flashed in her eyes as she awoke, causing a pulsating pain to emanate from the back of her head.

Patience tried to lift her arms but they were knotted to the sides of the chair by a thin cord of steel. In panic, she tried to shift her weight from side to side to topple the chair, though it didn't move even a little.

She scanned the room. Seemed to be a pretty standard affair. Torture devices hung on the dusty, brick walls like a set of ornaments, all of them caped in a thick layer of dark, crimson blood. There was an empty chair ahead of her free of any chains or tools, it looked a lot more comfy as well.

Where the hell am I, she thought.

A door opened to her right. She couldn't see it, only hear the scraping of wood against the rough floor.

The man stepped into view, lowering himself onto the free chair and slipping a lit cigarette between his teeth.

"Want one?" asked Kensuke, displaying a newly opened box.

Patience smiled, lowering her gaze to the floor for a moment. "I'm seventeen, and I don't have any hands free. Although, you could let them go so I can-"

"Punch me in the face?"

"I was going to go for strangle, but that'll work too." He dropped the cigarette to the floor, crushing it with his square boot and dragging the chair closer to her. His face was directly in front of Patience. She could smell his rancid breath striking her nostrils with their foul aroma.

"What do you think of my dungeon?"

"Bit dramatic, isn't it?" she said.

"Doesn't it just make you scared, to know that so many people have lost their lives here. Normally, it only takes a few minutes alone for them to start begging for their lives to end."

"After a few minutes of talking to you, I can see why."

He scowled before wrapping his hand around the bottom of her chin so that her sight was fixed directly upon him. She tried to control her breathing, tried to show no signs of fear. Oh God. Her heart was beating so fast. She hoped he couldn't hear it.

"Look at that," he said, directing her head towards a red stain on the wall, "that is all that remains of the last person in this room. He sat in that very chair when he died, painfully."

Patience resisted the urge to screw up her face as she tried desperately to come up with a clever quip to undermine him. "I bet it's not even real.... I bet you used tomato ketchup, like they do in the bad movies."

His shoulders sagged as his confidence left him and he released his hold on her. "How did you know that? Is it really that obvious?" Patience tried to look like she had known the truth all that time.

"Any amateur can tell the difference," she lied, "at least I can see you put the effort in, I suppose."

Kensuke didn't respond. He slunk backwards in the chair and looked into the empty corner of the room.

His eyes were blank with a torrent of memories, like he was being filled with flashbacks of a life he had wasted.

"I'm not very good at this, am I?" he said, almost sobbing, "I should have stayed at the bakery."

"You were a baker?"

"I made the best 'Momma's Multi-layered Chocolate Fudge Cake this side of the country. It was to die for."

Patience frowned. "What happened?"

"An inspector came in and told me that the conditions were unsafe, something about keeping pet rats in the kitchen. I don't know what he was talking about. But he threatened to close me down, so I followed him home, snuck into his bedroom when he was asleep and.... he fell over and banged his head. It was so exhilarating, and embarrassing."

"And so you turned into a wannabe assassin?"

Kensuke shrugged off the comment as though he didn't even care anymore. "I suppose so. I just wanted to be good at something again, something I enjoyed. I thought killing would be it.... but it seems I'm not even cut out for that."

"Not everyone is. Hey, don't cry.... don't do those crocodile tears." It was like talking to a three year old. "Everything's going to be alright, you'll see. Just let me go and we won't hear of this again, you can go back to your bakery and just put this down to trying something new."

"Okay, thanks. It's been a long time since I actually had someone to talk to, most people don't listen.

Even when I have them strapped to a chair while I threaten to torture them, they carry on mocking me."

There was still a beam of light from the door, but it seemed to get blocked for a moment before going back to normal.

"I'm sorry, can we just put this all down to a misunderstanding."

Patience nodded. "Of course." He undid her restraints, allowing her to move again. "Thanks, I really appreciate-"

There was a flash of silver, a spray of real blood, and Kensuke's head rolled out across the ground. His mouth had remained wide open as though he was still trying to form the words with his lips, despite being dead.

Patience jumped up, kicking the chair back and instinctively sweeping to the side to avoid any incoming attacks. She looked at the executioner. A tall, slim woman, with well-built arms and a hard, stern face.

Her red hair hung from her neck like coiling snakes, and her eyes stabbed into her like a sharp point.

"Are you a good guy.... or gal, even?" asked Patience hopefully.

Viper smiled. "No, my dear," as she spoke, Patience could see her forked tongue, "while I have just lifted you from the clutches of this disgusting heathen, in no way shall I even pretend to be working as a force for good. No, my employer has a need for you."

"At least you're being honest." Patience made a run for it, setting her sights on the door as she tried to be fast. She was almost there.

Viper's hand shot outward like a bullet, flipping her over so she landed on the ground awkwardly. She thought she might have broken something, it would heal.

"I can't let you do that," she said, "you're very important to us. Please, don't make me harm another hair on that pretty little head of yours." She went to pat her on the head, but Patience gripped her fingers and bent them sideways. Viper must have resisted the pain because she reacted by pressing her boot into Patience's chest. "You're making this very difficult on yourself."

A figure entered the room, standing by the door. When he didn't get their attention he stepped forward, tapped her on the shoulder and waited anxiously. She turned, her lips twisting into a look that injected terror.

"Sorry to bother you," said the man, "it's just that I have an awful bladder, and have come rather unprepared. Do you know where the nearest bathroom might be?"

"GRIM!"

Grim scowled. "Patience, just blow my cover why don't you."

"A random guy with bladder problems is hardly a cover."

"Seriously, the people of this world lack creativity. I try to be just slightly innovative, and what do I get?"

Viper stepped off Patience, drawing her twin swords and scraping them together threateningly. Her face twisted into a smile, licking the blades so that they erupted in a green glow.

"Now this hardly seems fair."

She jumped towards him, spun in the air and flailed the blades downwards as she flipped back onto her feet. He ducked, formed a ball of fire in his hand and tossed it towards her. She swatted it away like it was nothing, rolling around for a back kick. Grim grabbed her boot, swinging her around and throwing her towards the wall. She fell gracefully, looking up, but they were already gone.

Patience tried to keep up as they rushed along the corridor, slipping around corners almost randomly. A part of her suspected they were lost.

"How did you find me?" she said.

"Patience, in my role there is a vast amount of investigative work that I must accomplish. I am required to use skills which - may I say - I am simply the master at."

"You followed them here, didn't you?"

Grim shrugged. "They're driving a minivan. It's not exactly the hardest vehicle to follow."

Footsteps echoed along the corridor behind them. Viper was getting closer. They sped up, passing a group of men who – like everything else here – seemed to be more like stage decoration than actual people who worked there.

She glanced backwards. Viper was close, climbing from the walls to the ceiling as she sprinted at terrible speeds towards them. Her movement was brutally efficient, even keeping up the pace as she cut through the men like ribbons.

They got outside.

"Where's the car?" she said desperately.

Grim narrowed his eyes. "She has a name."

"Oh come on, this is ridiculous."

"She has feelings too."

"NO SHE DOESN'T, she is a metal shell with an engine!"

Grim folded his arms as though there wasn't a threat constantly making its way ever closer.

"Fine, where is Bessy?"

"This way." He ran on, and Patience followed. The door broke open from the building behind them, and Viper spotted them straight away.

"Why didn't you park right next to the place?"

"What? And risk getting a parking ticket. Shame on you, I wouldn't park illegally."

"Whatever."

Her body was beginning to tire. She wouldn't be able to go on for much longer. The wind was striking against her face due to the speeds they were reaching. It felt like a force resisting her.

Bessy came into sight, beautifully parked against the side of the road as though the driver had spent hours meticulously nudging it into the perfect position until he was satisfied. Probably not far from the truth in all honesty.

They climbed in. Grim started the engine. Ready to go.

Viper leaned against the front of the car, her top was stained with splashes of blood and guts, though it was unlikely to be hers.

"Stop," she said. They did. There was a moment of silence as they waited to see if she had something valuable to say. She didn't. Her sword pressed through the windscreen, missing Patience by a mere inch.

Grim stepped onto the pedal, ramming the front of the car into her, then reversed, spun around and flicked her off before speeding back down onto the main road.

19

THE JOURNAL

Finally, it was time. They were sat outside her Uncle Bernard's house as they prepared to discover where the Lamina was. Now they had the key they needed, all that was left was to find out the actual location.

She was the first out the car. No longer was she constraining herself to Grim's lead. This was her family's house and she knew it best. So she headed in. A part of her was still haunted by everything that had gone on inside. First, her uncle was forcefully kidnapped. It was painful to imagine what he had gone through inside these very walls. Then Mercy was stolen away, probably beaten half to death. Such tragedy had taken place behind these walls, yet it still sometimes felt like more of a home that her own house did, especially recently.

"I'll make the tea," said Grim, scuttling away into the kitchen, allowing Patience time to get the journal from the protective barrier. "There's no tea bags?" he cried, somehow surprised.

"Of course not," she said, "no one lives here anymore."

"Coffee?"

"Sure." There was frantic movement in the kitchen as he worked, seriously, it didn't take that much effort to make a cup of coffee. It sounded like World War Three in there.

She took the stairs up and went into the room at the end. To her, it felt like nothing passing through the protective barrier. Were it not for her knowledge, she wouldn't have even noticed the enchantment was in place.

She looked around the study. Once again, it was in the exact same condition as it had been before. No one had entered. Which meant that Murum hadn't gained enough strength yet to step through the barrier and retrieve the journal. This was further evidenced by the journal itself, which lay sprawled out across the floor. Clearly Mercy threw it in at the first sign of danger, as Patience had instructed her to do.

She picked it up. Her mind becoming frantic as she realised the power that was lying in her hands. She was sure that the Lamina's location wasn't the only secret that resided in those pages, but it was the only one that mattered at this moment.

There was a sound behind her, causing her to turn. She saw a face pressing against the door, squashed like it was being pushed into clear glass. She didn't recognise him.

At first her surprise was filled with a sense of relief that the barrier was protecting her. But then his hand broke through, a crease appearing on the doorway as his body squeezed past the invisible wall. His face strained, and he fell out onto the other side panting.

Patience tried to compose herself. "Murum, I assume."

He nodded. "And you must be the esteemed Patience Gillespie, and that in your hand, if I am not mistaken, is your uncle's journal."

"It's nice to see that years in the vault hasn't completely turned your brain into a scrambled egg," she said, "at least not any more than it already was." He went bright red as he struggled to contain his anger, like a bomb that was getting ever closer to exploding. She knew that she just had to stall him until she could think of a plan to make it past the door and to Grim, if Murum hadn't already taken him out. The thought sent a shudder through her.

"Your wit is legendary," said Murum, "in the land of degenerates." He smirked.

"Look," said Patience mockingly, "I can tell you're new to this, you know, the making insulting jokes before you get your butt kicked. So, I'll just pretend to find it amusing and you can go on feeling good about yourself." Faking a chuckle, she tried to circle around him, but he stayed rooted in place.

"I was warned."

"About what?"

"Your tendency to annoy people just by talking."

"It's been said."

Without warning he shot forward, lowering his head and using his entire body weight to create momentum as he charged in her direction. She was reminded of what Grim said about the vault holding the worst of the worst in terms of criminals, this guy would surely be able to beat a teenage girl.

His attacks weren't the flailing swings that she was used too. He was calm and calculated, clearly with at least some martial arts training.

He caught her punch mid swing, brought his elbow down onto her joint and then twisted it so that she fell to the floor. The journal slipped from her grasp and rolled across the carpet. She crawled for a few inches and reached for it, but his fist came down on her fingers. He held it there for a few seconds until she was almost certain that they had broken, then he flicked his boot up into her face. She felt the colour drain from her, as blood trickled down her face.

Grim appeared at the edge of the barrier. He dropped the tea and began to bash his fist against it, causing a sound like the ringing of vibrating glass. Murum stood up straight with the journal resting in his palm, and straightened his jacket.

For a moment she thought he was going to open it and browse the pages, but he simply pocketed it beneath his clothes and dived through the wall behind him, leading outside.

Patience felt all her strength drain as she committed herself to getting back onto her feet. She stumbled forwards, unable to move the fingers in her right hand, or feel her other arm due to numbness. It didn't stop her performing magic. The fingers of her left hand splayed out and the window collapsed in on itself, then she dived out, slowing her descent with a gust of wind – also giving her momentum as she rushed forwards at the moment of her landing.

She saw a figure escaping into the distance, and gave chase.

Her legs were being re-energised. If it wasn't for her adrenaline and desperation she might not have been able to move at all, but instead would have collapsed on the floor in a sunken heap.

As she ran, blood whipped across the side of her face and escaped into the air. She pressed the side of her wrist to the gash to try and control the bleeding, not doing much to stop it flowing out in frantic streams.

Her breath caught in her throat as she struggled to keep going. Sweat was covering her brow and stinging against the cut on her face. She grimaced but fought against it. The cold wind that blew hard against it acted as a slight healer, dulling the pain slightly as the cold caused her to lose sensation in her forehead.

The figure had stopped in the middle of the road ahead.

The street lamps flashed as though they were about to go out. She could hardly see even a few metres ahead.

Murum turned to her.

"Where's your friend now?" he said. She looked around. Damn. Where was Grim? Never around when you needed him.

"I don't need him," she cried, not convincing anyone, "so, let's make a deal. Gimme back that journal and I might consider letting you leave here alive."

Murum chuckled. "I'd like to see you try." Once again he stormed towards her, but this time she was ready. Her fist threw out in front of her. He didn't stop. She closed her eyes and flinched as he ran literally straight threw her. Before she could realise that he'd phasewalked, he grabbed her from behind and smashed her into the ground. Pain shot through her, hopefully not another broken bone.

He went to kick her but she had already scrambled to her feet. She swung her leg backwards, catching him across the face, but he grabbed her and tossed her a metre to the side. Patience managed to land, albeit off balance. He laughed.

"Do you really think there's any chance of beating me?" he said, "you know I was locked in the vault right? But do you know why? I'm betting you don't. It started off with a simple bank robbery, but not everything went perfectly. My partner had betrayed me and the police were already alerted to me being there. There was a whole squad, must have been thirty in total. Not to mention a chopper hovering above us broadcasting the events live to the country. On camera, I let all the bullets phase through me as I killed each and every one of those police officers."

"Then why don't I know about this?" she asked, "I'm sure I would have heard about it on the news."

"Not so," he said, "Grim arrived just a little too late, and as he arrested me they organised clairvoyants to hack into the network and remove it from everyone's mind who had witnessed it. I believe they called it 'the largest memory surge in history', and all because of me."

"Technically it was Grim."

"Yeah, but I caused it." He made fists at his side, looking exceedingly angry. "The point I am trying to make is that I cannot be stopped by a mere child, such as yourself. I am legendary, I am terrifying, and I am immortal." There was a flash of light to the side, and the sound of a roaring engine. A massive metal shell broke into her vision, went straight past her before crashing into Murum. He flew back and crashed into a wall.

Patience spoke before she could help herself. "Phase through that," she snapped, happy to have finally pulled off a one liner, even if it was a little too late. She patted Bessy on the front as though it was an animal that had done something deserving of a reward.

Grim climbed out the car and walked over to Murum, who was groaning in pain and struggling to stand.

He pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slapped it on his wrist, dragging him over to Bessy and leaning him over the bonnet.

"Won't he just be able to phase through the handcuffs?" she asked.

Grim shook his head. "Nah, don't need to worry about that. These babies sap the magic away from whoever is wearing them. While he's got these on, he won't be going anywhere." He took the journal from Murum's pocket and threw him into the backseat, not even bothering with the seatbelt before they drove off.

Patience read the journal as they travelled to the Imperium, where Murum would be safely locked up.

She'd forgotten how sick reading in a car made her feel, which wasn't helped by her Uncle Bernard's surprisingly feminine, swirly writing, much different to the one used on the note. It took her a little while to actually be able to read it.

Finally, she came to her answer. "The Schism Complex," she said, reading aloud, "that's where it says the Lamina is being kept."

Grim raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"That's what it says. Do you know it?"

"I don't need to explore the deep recesses of my magical databank for long before happening across this particular complex."

"Can't you just say you know what it is, like a normal person? Anyway, what is it?"

"It's essentially a labyrinth. After the Great War there were many casualties, and not a lot of room to store them. I mean, how do you discretely bury hundreds of people to keep a secret war from becoming known to the mortal world. You build an underground maze to store them. They must have buried the Lamina down there with one of the generals, or as safekeeping to stop the future sorcerers getting hold of it."

"Either way, we know where it is, so why don't we just go for it?"

Grim held up his hand to calm her. "It could be dangerous. So, first we get Murum into a nice cosy cell, then we commune with the lovely Luminary to discuss any possible reinforcements or aid he could offer us on our gallant quest."

"Then what?"

"We get a good night's sleep."

"Are you being serious?" she said, "why do we never get to act spontaneously? I'm pumped, let's just go."

"You may be 'pumped', but you also have a broken hand, bruised ribs and a nose that is spilling blood out all over the insides of my car. You may be a sorcerer, but it will still take the night for all that to heal."

She sighed, leaning back in the chair as she laid her head against the side, almost falling asleep. There hadn't been much of an opportunity for sleep lately. That's for sure.

20

A GOOD NIGHT SLEEP

It was a strange sensation, trying to force herself to sleep despite the tiredness that she'd been building up.

Patience found that she had a hard time unwinding and forcing herself to relax. Her house was old and made lots of noise, and that was not taking into account the hooting owls sat just outside her window. She was on edge all night, until she finally managed to sink down into the world of dreams. Or as it should be described, nightmare.

She didn't know exactly what to expect in the Schism Complex. Grim had told her little, but her mind filled in the blanks with weird imaginings. At one point she was climbing over an ocean of dead bodies, feeling their stench attack her nostrils as the decay latched to her hands, which she was using to steady herself. She felt the need to wretch, but forced it to remain inside.

Her eyes scanned the area ahead, green mist blocking her path through the wide open tunnels. She couldn't remember why she was going this way, or why she was alone, only that it was important.

An eagle flew up above, only then realising how high the roof was. From this distance she couldn't work out how big the eagle was, but it certainly wasn't normal simply from the shadow it was casting on the ground.

As she walked on, Patience could feel the broken pieces of bones cracking under her feet. It didn't seem to bother her, since the visualisation of severed limbs and pools of blood had been enough to de-sensitise herself from it all. Although, the gore wasn't old and dried up, some of it was still very much wet and newly formed. Which made her wonder where it had all come from.

In answer to her question, there was a terrifying squawk from above. Patience froze in fear, feeling sweat drip down her front as her eyes rose upwards. The eagle was diving through the air towards her, its wings cutting through the wind, giving it a majestic appearance.

She ducked and felt the massive creature – the size of a horse – soar over her hair into the tunnels in front of her. Then a moment later it was back, dropping to the ground so that its talons bit into the stone. It stepped forwards, spreading its beak and snapping towards her.

Patience woke up screaming, falling silent straight away, worried she would wake her parents. But as she looked up at her mum sat on the edge of her bed, she realised it was too late for that.

"I heard you talking in your sleep," she said softly, "not sure I remember you having nightmares for a long time. You used to come in and sleep in our bed when you were seven, all alone and scared. Since then you grew out of it."

"I'm sorry I woke you." Her mouth was dry and the words were sharp against her throat.

Her mum brushed her maroon hair back over her ears and looked on with wide eyes. "That's alright, it's just nice having my little girl back again."

"What do you mean? I'll always be your little girl."

"I know you will." She seemed sad. Oh God. Had she realised that she'd been out all that time. "You're growing up, I understand. I went through the same thing when I was your age. It's just.... I don't see you much anymore, and when I do you're distant. What's been going on?"

"I don't know. It's just a phase I guess."

Her mum still looked suspicious. "Have you met someone, a boy?"

"No, God no." Not a boy... and not like that. Ew.

"Well then, what is it?" she said, "you've been acting very strangely lately. I miss you, even when you're sat right next to me. That's not normal, you just always seem distant, like your mind is set on other things."

"Mum," Patience said sternly, "this is just some kind of growing up phase, but not just for me, for you as well. You're getting older and feeling that you're getting on in years."

"....Charming...."

"And you feel like I'm getting older and that the whole world is going to end." Which it could. "But please just stop worrying, I am still your little girl." As though to prove it, she wrapped her arms around her and tightened. Her mum gave her a big smile, the sadness more–or-less gone, before getting up and going back to bed.

Patience didn't get back to sleep, but sat there feeling a little better until the sun came up and invaded her bedroom blinds. She got up before everyone else and made herself a few pieces of jam on toast. Her dad came down in his pyjamas half way through eating them.

"You're up early," he said, wiping the sleep from his eyes, "I heard about your adventure last night."

"It was more like this morning," said Patience, "and if a nightmare counts as an adventure, then yes. It was thrilling."

"Well it's more eventful than what you normally do." She had to disagree there. He sat down beside her and stole a slice of her toast, she didn't protest but was just happy to have his company.

As the day went on, the time loomed for her to leave for the Schism Complex. From what Grim had told her, it was incredibly dangerous, and she half expected not to make it out alive. It was a very pessimistic way of looking at it. Yet she couldn't get rid of the feeling that time was running out. Normally, she would be sat with her family wishing to be back in the magical world, wanting to return to the excitement and adventure. But not then. She savoured every moment, a tight knot forming in the pit of her stomach as though each word they spoke could be the last. Very different from last night when she had been rearing to go.

"Are you feeling alright?" her mum said, stepping into the kitchen, "you look terribly pale."

"I'm fine," she said, "might have just caught a bug or something. It'll pass." Something was eating at her insides, and it wasn't a bug. It was nerves, mainly after what her mum said last night. She had been sad because Patience was getting more and more distant. It killed her to think she was hurting her own mum like that, and it was selfish risking her life in this way. What would happen if they both died down there?

Their bodies would never be found. From her mum's perspective, her daughter would just disappear, she would just be left not knowing what happened to her. She might blame herself, thinking that Patience had run away, or been driven away. Her parents would be damaged for life.

Then there was the alternative option, which involved not going to the Schism Complex. Yes, she would be given some extra time with her family. But how long would it delay, eventually Mr Big would get his hands on the Lamina and kill them all anyway. That is if he didn't hunt down Patience and her family looking for the key. No, her best bet was to take the risk. Her parents would never understand, hell, she would probably never understand it herself. It was just something that had to be done. She was doing it for them after all.

Her parents looked at her suspiciously as she hugged them good bye. She just prayed they couldn't see the tears that were beginning to fester in the roots of her eyes. Her only worry was her mum, mother's intuition was a powerful thing. She just knew things, even before Patience knew them herself. Somehow she had the feeling that her mum could sense something was wrong without even looking at her.

"I'll see you later," she said, her voice coming out as a whisper, which she managed to play off as intentional. Her parents gave her a nervous chuckle, and she turned her back on them.

She waited for Grim to arrive, he was late as always. She was silent as she got in the car, not gifting him with the knowledge that she was on the verge of tears.

21

THE SCHISM COMPLEX

The graveyard was completely empty, stretching out before them like a wide open plain - with graves dotted between the rough patches of dead grass. Shadows had weaved their way amongst the stones, festering in every corner apart from where it was broken up by the full moon that floated high in the sky.

Patience felt the grass crunch beneath her boot as she stepped across it. Her movements were slow and delicate as though she feared she might step on a grave, which seemed inevitable as it wasn't a neat alignment like she had seen in the movies. This was a scattered graveyard, as though loads of dead relatives had been let loose to fight in a free-for-all for space.

"Are any of the graves here for sorcerers?" asked Patience, trying to squint at the names that were covered in blackness.

Grim pushed ahead of her. "Well, the one we're looking for is, but the rest are hidden away in the Schism Complex itself."

"Who was he?"

"Oh, a charming fellow. He was a kindly man who donated to charities, used his magic to help old ladies cross the road, and even healed a homeless man who was suffering from the plague."

"Really?"

Grim chuckled. "Of course not. No, he was a kleptomaniac and a common serial killer who murdered his victims in the most horrible of ways. Later, he went on to lead a war to kill all mortals and any sorcerers who stood in his way."

"So, he's not a very nice person?"

"Not really." As they spoke, Patience hadn't realised that Grim had come to an abrupt halt. She hopped a glance over his shoulder to find a tall grave stone which was almost as tall as her. It had two spikes in the corner and a curved top, reminding her of a shield that knights might have used in medieval times.

Grim started to run his hands along its surface. "I know it's around here somewhere."

Patience read the name. Diabolus. She recognised his name.

"Was he an old one?"

"Yeah, one of - if not - the last." Grim kept running his hands along the edge until he reached the point, he hovered over it, fingers meeting in the middle, and then he pushed. The grave toppled with ease as it crumbled into little pieces, leaving a hole in the ground. At first Patience thought Grim had just accidentally broken someone's grave, she didn't care how evil they were, that's just disrespectful.

Although, as she looked over into the hole, she realised that there was steps leading downwards. "Here we go, the entrance to the Schism Complex."

"Great.... what is it with sorcerers and your underground hideaways?"

"Harder for mortals to stumble on, I guess, and we just like being dramatic and scary."

"I thought so."

Grim stepped in first, and Patience followed closely behind. It was clear that none of this was naturally made. The stairs were carved out of the rock so neatly and intricately that it must have been man-made, and the passage stayed at the exact same height for the entire way through.

Ahead of her, Grim lit a fire in his hand to light the way, now the stairs had levelled out into a flat corridor. But Patience didn't like what she saw. Skulls. Everywhere. Oh God, what the hell. She tucked her hands in as they were at both side.

There was a dip - almost like a shelf - etched into the rocks to their side, and on them were rows upon rows of old human skulls.

Patience held back a scream, though Grim still seemed to notice because he looked over his shoulder, shook his head and turned back around. "They're just skulls," he said, putting extra emphasis on his sigh.

"Yeah," she said, "human skulls. Like, what the hell, who are they?"

Grim held the flame closer to them as though that would help to explain things to her. "As I said, the Schism Complex holds a good majority of the casualties from The Great War. But the war was so big, on a bigger scale than you can possibly imagine. They can't possibly hold every single body down here."

"So, instead they decided to only store their head?"

"Exactly, many people believe that the soul, a person's essence, is housed inside the head. So they didn't mind detaching it. I know that my head is the best part of my body. Just from my incredible good looks. I would make a good head."

"That can be arranged."

They carried on walking for what seemed like hours. Patience was starting to think that the description of it's in the Schism Complex was a little too vague. Couldn't they have been given co-ordinates or something. They passed a few turns but Grim didn't change their course.

"Remember," he said, "this is a labyrinth, in all senses of the word. Not just the noun, but also the adjective."

Patience groaned. "Enough of the English lesson, you and Bernard always go on about this stuff. I struggle enough in school."

"I mean adjective as in a describing word. Oh my God. Okay. If you call something a labyrinth then it means that it is massive, with lots of twisting paths that are easy to get lost in. That's why I am putting down a mental bread crumb trail."

"So, you're imagining bread crumbs?"

"Essentially."

"Well that's not gonna work."

"Children these days, so cynical. Just trust me for once. Who is the greatest sorcerer in terms of power, good looks and charm, all put together in a neat little package for yours truly, ooooooh like a present."

Patience sighed. "You are."

"I should get a bow and sit under your tree at Christmas."

"I do worry about you sometimes."

"It does sound a little creepy, doesn't it?"

There was an orange light ahead coming their way. At first Patience thought it was just the flame from Grim's hand, but it was larger than that.

All of a sudden, a bright flash filled the pathway, blinding her for a second. She looked up, now able to see what it was. It appeared to be like a mini sun. A big swirling ball of fire that somehow suspended itself above the ground, spitting flames out to the side like deadly solar flares.

"What is it?" she asked, keeping her voice at a whisper just in case fire had somehow been able to adapt to listen to speech, how ridiculous.

"A fire elemental. It is essentially pure raw magic without a vessel."

"Are they dangerous?"

"Oh, I would say so. If you get close it'll reduce you to a pile of ashes."

Patience shivered with that thought. "Well, let's not get close to it then, and just go back the way we came."

Grim spun his thumbs around each other in a circular motion, biting his lip nervously. "The thing is, we kinda have to get through it. You know the old story. We can't go over it, and we can't go through it, so we're going to have to go under it."

"I'm sure in the story they ended up going through it."

"Okay, now who's talking stupid. Have you seen that thing? If we run straight through it, we would be dead instantly."

"We're not on a bloody bear hunt!" Before she could say anything else, Grim turned and sprinted directly towards the elemental.

Patience bit her knuckle nervously as it spat fire in his direction. He shifted his shoulder to the side so that it hit the wall, before sliding across the ground underneath it. He made it to the other side and was jumping on the spot, excitedly waving.

"Now my turn," she said to herself, "wait, why am I talking to myself? And then questioning it by talking some more." The heat must have been getting to her head. Oh wow. The heat. She only realised it as her face was drowned in sweat. Even from this far distance, that elemental was scolding hot. She wasn't looking forward to this.

She took in one last, long breath. Then her legs began to move, almost by themselves. The elemental got closer. She was terrified that she would trip and fall, pressing her face straight into the body of the creature. But she didn't.

There was a sound like a screeching kettle as a ball of fire erupted from the surface of the elemental. It seemed on point but she somehow avoided it, though she suspected that it had burned a hole into her jacket.

At the last moment, she dropped to the ground, kicking her leg out to give her the momentum to move forwards. For a brief moment she was underneath the creature, looking up into its fire as she felt her face begin to have the sensation of melting. But then she made it out the other side, jumped to her feet and joined Grim.

"That wasn't so bad," he said.

"I hate you." There was another screech and she ducked as the fireball shot over her head.

"Run!"

The elemental chased after them as they ran along the path. Patience was too scared to look around in case it slowed her down, but she knew she wouldn't see any fireballs coming if they were fired her way.

Her breathing became increasingly faster as she struggled to take in air from the thinness that surrounded her.

Grim stopped ahead of her, she stopped beside him. They were looking over a giant cliff that fell into darkness, it seemed to go on forever. "Jump," he said. They both dived into the darkness, the elemental becoming a small beacon of light that seemed to escape from their view. She looked down, her heart leaping inside her as her organs seemed to curl. The ground was getting closer. So close.

A hand gripped hers, pulling her in closer before a gust of wind swept them up and slowed their descent. She curled her hands up comfortably in Grim's cold grip as she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her elbow on his shoulders. Finally, they touched down on the ground and she was able to let go of him.

"Phew, you almost got us killed," she said.

Grim scratched his head. "I thought I just saved you."

"Well, I suppose you did, but you almost killed me before that."

"Not really. I had full confidence you would survive."

Patience tilted her head. "Really?"

"Nah, I thought you were a goner for sure."

"Thanks." She turned her attention to the landing zone. It was a small cavern with only one distinct feature about it. A large iron door that reached two dozen metres into the sky, at her level there was a small keyhole.

"Do you have the key?" said Grim, stepping forward and examining the door.

Patience gave him a guilty look. "No, I left it at home."

"Are you kidding me? Tell me you're not being serious."

She laughed like a wicked witch. "It's not nice is it? Come on you big idiot. Oh my God. You're so gullible."

"Ha ha," he said sarcastically, "just open the door." She felt like he had endured enough teasing, for now, so she stepped forward and removed the small key from her pocket. It fitted easily into the hole, becoming lodged in place before she turned it. The door slowly began to move, a deafening screech sounding as it rubbed against the ground, leaving them a space to enter.

Patience caught sight of something in that small room. At the edge by the back wall, was a stone in which a single hilt protruded from. It was a shiny black, with flashing purple lines running through it like veins of energy. It was beautiful, and horrifying at the same time.

There was a voice behind them. "Thank you, my dear." Patience's stomach churned as she looked over to see Viper stepping in through the large iron door. She was accompanied by a thin man with chalk white skin that hardly covered up the bones within. His small, yellow eyes seemed to follow her as she moved to the side. She assumed he was Jack Ripper, the one who broke into the vault and released the phasewalker.

"Hello, Viper," said Grim, he didn't seem all that surprised to see her, "and how are you today?"

Viper suppressed a smile. "Very good, in fact. Turns out you have done most of the work for us, and now, here it is. The Lamina." There would be no use pretending to be an estranged man with bladder problems this time, and Grim knew it. They would have to face them. It's not like they could just let them get their hands on that weapon, they would be unstoppable.

Grim went to move but Viper held up her sword to stop him. "Not so fast," she growled, "stay exactly where you are. We'll need you yet." Patience wondered why they would need them, it all seemed rather strange, a mystery in itself.

Jack crawled over to the hilt and wrapped his fingers around it. As he pulled, Patience could see the muscles on his arm tighten as they became more prominent, but the blade didn't move. His face looked downtrodden and disappointed as he slunk into the shadows.

"You imbecile," said Viper, "you can't lift it from that rock." She turned to Patience and Grim. "The Lamina is an ancient weapon that was created by the Old Ones to bring mortals to their knees. In The Great War it was stolen, and used against them, killing Diabolus himself."

Grim tapped his foot impatiently. "Enough of the history lesson," he said, "what's your point?"

Viper smiled cruelly. "My point is that it was created by the Old Ones, placed in this rock so that it can never be a threat to anyone again. The only person who can lift it from the stone, is someone who has the blood of the Old Ones running through them. Their ancestor."

"Well, good job we have none of those," said Patience, turning to leave, "sorry that your evil plan didn't work out so well, but you can always try again another time." Viper's eyes fixed on Patience. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Grim turned to her. "I think she was talking about you."

"Me? But I'm no one special."

"Oh, you don't have to tell me that, I know."

Viper cut in, stepping closer and grabbing the side of her arm. You are an ancestor of the Old Ones, you have their blood running through your veins. And you will pull that blade from the stone, by any means necessary."

It couldn't be true. No way. She wasn't special, she was a nobody. Ever since she was born she knew she had been destined for a boring life that essentially amounted to nothing. How could she be a descendant of the first sorcerers, who eventually went mad with power and started trying to kill all the mortals. What the hell. Now she had an idea how Luke Skywalker felt when he found out that the evil man that he was facing against was actually his father - probably nothing compared to the shock of finding out the girl he kissed a film ago was his sister. No. Patience knew that this was even more of a shock than that.

That must have been how her uncle knew where it was hidden, could it have something to do with him being an ancestor? Or maybe he was the one who hid it in the first place, that seemed to make sense.

Patience smiled for the first time. "Okay, let's just say that you're right and I am the only one who could possibly remove that weapon from that stone. What makes you think that I would ever do that for you?"

"You don't have a choice."

"I do. You can torture me as much as you want, but I will never get it for you."

Viper's smile grew wider. Patience didn't like it, but listened to what she had to say all the same. "I want you to talk to someone."

She pulled out an old flip phone, and dialled a number before handing it to Patience.

"Hello," said a voice, it was a man she didn't recognise, though his voice was cold and cruel.

"Hi, this is Patience," she said nervously, unsure as to the point of this. Her hand was starting to shake but she tried not to show it, she could feel Viper's eyes fixed on the back of her head. She didn't want to give away any signs as to how she was feeling.

"Ah yes, I was told you might be calling. I am sat here with your parents, as it happens. Would you like to speak to them?"

When Patience didn't reply, he must have handed it over because a familiar voice was transmitted through the speakers of the phone. "Patience, is that you?"

"Mum?" she said, trying not to sob out loud as she attempted to keep her voice under control, "are you hurt? Are you okay?"

"What? Of course I am, why would I be hurt?. We were just having a lovely chat, and cup of tea with your teacher from school, Mr Dread. He's very pleased with your progress, in fact he even used the word perfect at one point." Really? Mr Dread, and her parents didn't even question the slightly strange name. It was fairly obviously a sign of danger.

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath, "I have to go now, bye." She hung up.

Patience knew the deal, she didn't need Viper to spell it out for her to know what was going on. This was blackmail. Her parents were sat at home, none the wiser. But if Patience didn't get them the Lamina, then Dread was sat back at her house ready to kill both of her parents. How could she possibly refuse?

"Fine," she mumbled.

"What was that?"

"I said.... I'll fetch your damn weapon." She lowered her head and skulked over to the stone. She refused to look in Grim's direction, too ashamed of what his facial expressions might say. They might be mad, or worse, disappointed. But as Viper had said previously, she didn't have a choice. There was no way she could allow her parents to have that fate. She would let the world end a thousand times before she let her parents get put into any danger. Family first, world second.

Her hand hovered above the hilt, she hesitated, but the feeling of Jack breathing on the back of her neck forced her to carry on. It seemed like everyone in the room had begun to hold their breath as her fingers wrapped around the hilt. As soon as she touched it, she felt a cold sensation run across her entire body, before it came loose and tore away from the stone.

Finally, she could get a proper look at the blade. It was short, no bigger than a dagger. Not straight either, all of its edges were jagged, and pointy. It was certainly not a thing of beauty, in fact it was exceedingly ugly.

She felt arms grab her from behind, she tried to struggle but the Lamina was torn from her grasp. Jack stepped back, though Grim had rushed forward to help. His hands curled into fists which flew forwards.

Jack jumped, bounced off the rocky walls and slapped his heel across Grim's cheek. He landed, dropped down low and swept his legs across to cause Grim to trip up and land on his face. Jack handed the weapon to Viper.

"We will keep our word and leave your parents out of it," said Viper, "and we will even extend the courtesy of allowing your pitiful little lives to continue, for now. We'll be seeing you." They turned and left, leaving Patience and Grim alone in that Labyrinth, in the bottom of the Schism Complex.

Viper was now in possession of the Lamina, the most powerful weapon on the planet. And within no time Mr Big, her boss, would have it. Who knows what kind of terror they could commit with that kind of power?

"I'm sorry," cried Patience, rolling Grim over onto his back, his eyes were open and he was still alert,

"I'm sorry I got it for them."

"It's alright," he replied, "you had too, they were threatening your family. But hey, an Old One, how about that?"

"I know, it's weird." She sat down against the wall, and helped him to get beside her. "How did they know we were down here? We didn't tell anyone."

"Apart from the Luminary, it must be an insider. A mole...."

Patience frowned. "You don't think it could be the Luminary, do you? He already has such power."

Grim shook his head. "Nah, I don't think so. He doesn't really have the capacity for evil. Although, I think I know who does."

Patience's eyes widened in realisation.

22

BOSS KILLING

Magnum

Magnum sat in the oval chair, his eyes looking up at the Luminary, who's long, stupid beard hung low from his chin as he paced up and down, complaining as usual.

"Why haven't they called yet?" he said, "I swear to God, the only thing I ever get from Grim and that girl is a headache. Soon I'm going to start balding, that would be a sight."

Magnum replied bluntly. "Indeed." He wanted to intervene, but it was rude to break someone off mid stream.

"Once they get back I am going to fire the both of them, though that won't be the best idea if they have the most powerful weapon ever created in their possession. No. We take it off them first, and then I fire them. But they know too much, maybe I need to just make them disappear." He was still pacing, jeez, for an old man he certainly had some stamina. "And then there is this Mr Big, what a stupid name anyway, but he still poses a problem. Even if he doesn't have the Lamina, he will want it back, and they could be a threat. I mean, they broke in and out of The Vault for God's sake, they have power even without that damned weapon."

Okay, this had gone on long enough. It was starting to get ridiculous. The guy was getting old, the job was too stressful for him. Now that he thought about it, he was doing the guy a service by ending his life.

"In my day, we would have dealt with all this differently," he said, "we would have taken a direct approach, rather than this softly-softly skipping around the real issue nonsense we have to do now. It's ridiculous. Why is it so hard to just find his location? And...."

The Luminary frowned. "By God, Magnum, what have you got there?" The Lamina lay stretched out across Magnum's knee, his fingers were wrapped around it and he could feel the energy spreading through him. It felt so good.

Magnum stood up, far taller than the Luminary. He was just a roach to be squashed. "Oh, Mr Vale, I've been bossed around by you enough for a lifetime."

"Put it down. I command you to put that away, otherwise I will have to put you under arrest. Do you hear me?" Magnum didn't move, neither did his grip on the dagger loosen. Although, his mouth did twist into a sly smile.

"I don't take orders from you anymore," he said.

"What are you talking about? Everyone takes orders from me, I am the Luminary."

"Not for much longer." He took a step closer and the Luminary called for help. Of course. It came within seconds. Two blatta, the strongest soldiers on the planet. Trained since birth to have all emotions and feeling stripped out of them, brutally efficient in all types of combat, the most deadly killers. He had to admit, even he admired their marvel, but that wouldn't stop him crushing them like the lab rats they are.

He raised the Lamina towards them, feeling the energy pulsing within. His mind pictured the following events, and they just seemed to happen. A beam of purple shadow erupted from the blade with a blinding flash of light. Magnum wasn't sure if they even had time to give surprised looks, their visors covered it well enough, but it mattered not.

The first blatta was hit directly in the chest. He was thrown backwards, hitting the wall behind him before falling apart into a cloud of smoke. A red glow followed the veins along the blade as though it was filling up with blood. Now Magnum felt even more powerful. The Luminary gave a shrill shriek of horror at the sight, hiding behind the desk in terror.

The second blatta had made it up the steps towards him. It raised its gigantic great sword above its head, one downward strike with that would cut Magnum clean in two. But it was never given the chance.

The Lamina exuded another flash of light, and the blatta crumpled into a heap on the floor, his body dissolving into the air.

Magnum kicked away the smoke before gripping the Luminary by the scruff of his neck and tossing him against his desk. He looked straight into his eyes. He was going to enjoy this. Oh yes. It was the moment he had been waiting for.

"You're Mr Big?" the Luminary managed to say, though he looked like he was about to throw up. He was rather green.

Magnum smiled. "Yes, finally you managed to get something right," he said, "I am Mr Big. How does it feel to know that I was always this close to you? I was here all this time, and you never even suspected."

"I've got to admit, it doesn't feel great."

"Of course not. Hey, I don't blame you, you were distracted. Grim on the other hand - at times I thought he suspected, but I got away with it. And now I am in possession of the Lamina."

The Luminary coughed up blood, better than puke at least. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"You were my friend, at least I thought you were. Why become Mr Big and kill all these people?"

Magnum's face went serious. What treachery was this? Small talk.

"The Old Ones will return," he said, "I don't care what anybody says, they will be back. And when they do, they will kill us all. The Lamina will protect me, and until then I can steal power for myself. Maybe build an army, create a wall between them and me, I like the thought of that."

"You're insane."

"Does it matter? Sanity or insanity, it's all irrelevant. The only thing that matters are two factors, living and not living. I am on the side of the living, but I'm afraid you won't be for much longer."

He thought the Luminary was going to panic. He had just told him he was going to die, and even used his madman scary voice, he'd been reserving that one for a special occasion. But it seemed wasted, for the Luminary's face remained extremely calm. His eyes were dotted with hints of amusement.

"You think that weapon will save you," he said, "if the Old Ones are returning, then I am afraid you will wither and die like the rest of us."

Magnum tried to keep his cool. "Your words cut deep, but not as deep as this." He slid the blade into the Luminary's heart, blood began to seep out and along the black-veined surface before his body was reduced to a cloud of smoke that hovered above his desk.

It certainly felt good, but that was expected. He had been waiting for this moment for three years, ever since he took the job just to get himself closer to the Luminary, and closer to the Lamina. Mostly the second one. It had all paid off, it seemed.

Magnum listened out. It was so silent, apart from his bodyguards who were now reduced to nothing, no one had been alerted. In his mind, that's wasn't how it was supposed to play out. There had been screaming and panicking as he marched through the Imperium with the weapon in his hand. Some might try to stop him but they would be turned into nothing as well, and then once they realised they couldn't fight back, he would take charge. This was nothing like that, it was a silent assassination. Not what he had intended at all. That would have to be rectified immediately.

He paced out the room and navigated the maze of corridors. After three years, he still sometimes got lost. He took a few wrong turns before finding himself at the atrium. As he had hoped, it was extremely crowded. Time to put his plan into action.

Magnum stepped forward. As a personal assistant to the Luminary, he was quite unobtrusive. No one seemed to take any notice of him.

The first person to recognise him was a sorcerer he had only seen on one occasion. He was one of their agents or something, who had lost a finger and was claiming compensation, or some nonsense like that.

"Hi, Bill," he said, "Oh wait, that's not your name. Sorry, I call everyone Bill." Magnum frowned angrily. His first victim, or fourth, had been chosen.

Everything seemed to happen so fast, yet at the time that he enacted it time seemed to slow down. He began with a deadly strike towards the idiot who got his name wrong. A single swipe with the blade and his throat was gushing crimson liquid, his mouth opened wide as his body began to fall into a pile of dust in the air. The first person to see was a woman who opened her mouth wide and let out a terrific high pitched squeal. Magnum froze, everyone in the whole room froze. And they all stared, unsure what to do.

Just a moment passed and there was a deafening shudder as a stampede of people ran for the exit, trying to get away.

The screaming woman was the next to die, followed by a man with an orange bag slung over his shoulder, and then a woman who transformed into a monkey before trying to scamper off.

As he had expected, there were far more blatta in here than the other rooms. They all converged on him, their visors down as they lugged around those massive great swords in only one hand. If he hadn't been carrying a weapon far more deadly, he might actually have been a little anxious.

Now he felt powerful, it was like he absorbed the energy of each person after killing them. Each death made him stronger.

He was now completely surrounded, a circular formation was created around him as they waited, but what for?

He cracked the dagger like a whip, shooting out purple shadows in multiple directions. Three blatta were dead within the first few moments, and then a subsequent two. In the corner of his eye he saw a sword cutting through the air towards him. He placed the Lamina in between to intercept it, turning the blade into dust and stabbing the blatta that was now unarmed. He fired it one last time and the last blatta died.

It was done. There was now no one left to stand in his way.

He slowly paced up to the exits, firing out a couple of shots into the crowd. They screamed, and he laughed. But he didn't want them all to die. Why would he? He got what he wanted: power, leadership and invincibility. What were these things if not coupled with loyal people in which to boss around? And what makes them loyal?

Absolute and overriding FEAR.

"Listen to me," he said, his voice seemed to be projected across the crowd, everyone was silent as they listened, "I am the new Luminary. The Old Ones are coming, and when they do I will be here to protect you. You'll all be safe so long as you follow me and agree to all my commands." Still, all of the heathens remained silent, apart from one.

A woman stepped forward. Magnum recognised her from somewhere. She wore a tight, red leather dress that clung firmly to her body, apart from the bare, square patch from neck to chest. Her hair was tied back in a neat bun and her face was defiant.

"I won't bow down to you," said the Admin, "you're just a monster, a horrible excuse for a human being.

Don't think I can't read you. I am a clairvoyant. Don't think for one second that your thoughts are still hidden from me. They can't hide any longer."

When he remained silent, she carried on talking. "You have no intention of saving us, your goals are all selfish, yet you try to convince everyone, including yourself."

Magnum stared for a brief second. Once he might have cared what she thought, not anymore. He raised the Lamina, it flashed a light of purple before he saw the Admin explode into a cloud of thick dusty gas.

Then the screams erupted from everywhere, every direction. Oh. It was glorious.

23

SOUNDS OF SCREAMS

Mercy

Mercy awoke to the sounds of screams. It rattled around inside her head for a little while before she realised that it was actually a real noise from somewhere close by.

Her eyes shot open. Rubbing her head, she looked around the room. She was laid out on a thin bed, in the medical wing of the Imperium, if she wasn't mistaken. But there was no one else around. Where was everyone?

She called out for some help but no one came. Strange. Normally, Doc Remedy would be there within seconds.

She turned to the side and climbed out of bed, feeling a heavy weight cursing her stomach as pain tore through her. Her face grimaced as she stepped down onto the ground. She pricked her ears up and tried to listen for more sounds. It took only a moment longer for another echo to reach out. Instinctively, her hand dropped to her side towards the hilt of her swords, but they were met only with empty air. Damn. A part of her felt more vulnerable now that she wasn't armed.

Along the corridor, the lights flashed uncontrollably as though the power grid was close to going out.

She cursed the engineers, out of all the things that are magically controlled, why not the lights?

She shuffled further down, dragging her foot along with the rest of her body. With each step she felt her strength return, along with her memory of what happened. In her mind, she could see distinct images of being beaten half to death by that woman, Viper. She swore aloud at the thought of that red head. Then she cast her mind back to the reason of the interrogation, it had been for the journal.

She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. The Schism Complex, that's where the Lamina was hidden. She remembered that now, somehow Doc Remedy must have taken away the expanded block on her mind, and also simultaneously the block she had made for herself. But there were still parts she couldn't remember, though she suspected that was as much to do with the beating than her clairvoyant abilities. No doubt they would return in time.

Mercy's eyes narrowed as she sensed something ahead, it was like a small veil of static being pressed over her brain. She knew there was something ahead. Her eyes saw nothing, but she was certain.

"Anyone there?" she called, nervously stepping to the side of the corridor. There was a brief moment where she thought that it was just in her imagination, her mind had been scrambled by everything that was going on after all. But then she saw camouflaged movement, a brush of disruption in the air. Then the blatta came into full view.

It looked at her with its visor down. She wondered what was behind that helmet, were they human, or something else? She pondered if he was looking stern, if he was smiling in contempt, or looking angry.

Sympathy wasn't likely.

"Hey," she said, a part of her still wanted to believe it was on her side. But the screams, why was it not helping those people? "What's going on out there." Of course, it didn't talk. Blatta never spoke, even she knew that by now. Although, hope was a fickle thing.

The blatta drew the great sword from its back, holding it upright with a single handed grip. It tilted its head, seemingly analysing her. Most likely identifying her weakness, which was everything right now because her body was pulsing with pain and she could hardly move, let alone defend herself. It rushed forwards, pulling its elbow back as though it was using the sword like a jousting stick. Mercy swallowed the pain and readied herself.

Normally her dodge would have been filled by a stupendous feat of agility, but all that she could manage right now was a manoeuvre that 'got the job done'. Nothing more, nothing less. She stopped beneath the sword and tried to redirect it, though the blatta fought back, battling against her strength. It was too strong and she was too weak. She let go and spun out the way, feeling her energy drain far quicker than she was accustomed to.

Once again, she found herself wishing for her swords. Even when injured she might have had a chance to defend herself if they were in her hands. Yet here she was, unarmed in the face of this deadly soldier.

It was the sounds of more screams, louder this time, which spurred her on. She darted forwards, leaping off from her good foot and spinning around to lever it back into the blatta's chest. It stumbled backwards, and she followed up with a flurry of punches. She felt her knuckles become twisted and battered, but she kept going. Hopping over its low swing like a skipping rope, she grabbed onto its shoulder and hurled herself onto its back. From there she was able to unleash elbows and punches to the back of its head, but nothing made it through the helmet, and it wouldn't come off.

Damn it.

The blatta reached up and grabbed a handful of her t-shirt from her waist, dragging her down and flinging her hard into the ground. She felt the breath leave her as the blatta advanced for the killing blow.

He raised the sword up high, and Mercy resigned herself to it, having no strength left to fight, or will, for that matter.

She heard a sound like the shredding of paper as a blade tore through the chest of the blatta. It stopped in its tracks as blood squirted out and onto Mercy's breeches. She gave a sigh of relief as the body of the blatta collapsed to the side like a ragdoll, giving Mercy a look at her saviour, Doc Remedy.

"You saved me again, Doc," she laughed, though her voice was harsh and guttural. Remedy leaned over and struggled with the blade for a moment, slipping it out of the corpse. Mercy smiled as she was handed them. "My swords."

Remedy smiled, though didn't stop looking up and down the corridor nervously. "I was just coming to wake you, with these."

"What's going on? I just woke up and there was screaming. Then this blatta attacked me."

"Magnum is Mr Big, and he killed the Luminary with the Lamina."

"They have the Lamina?" she said, "is Grim and Patience okay?"

Remedy looked to the ground a second, blood also covering her, though it was unlikely to be her own.

"I haven't heard from them, but I'm sure they'll be fine. But Magnum has appointed himself as Luminary, so the blatta follow him now. He started killing people in the atrium."

"How did he get it?"

"Grim and Patience had it taken from them at the Schism Complex. Magnum must have listened in on their conversation and tipped off his thugs when Grim was locking Murum up in one of the cells."

"Alright, go back to the medical wing and hide. I'm gonna go look ahead and see what's going on. I need to know, and if I see my opportunity, then I'll strike."

"You won't get close to him, not while he has the Lamina."

"I have to try."

She rushed off further down the corridor, now with swords at her side and a new found energy. She was sure it was adrenaline, so when she finally stops at the end of the day, she would be seriously feeling it. If she made it to the end of the day that is.

She had been here for so long, and yet she still didn't know her way around these maze of corridors. It was ridiculous. She had a sneaky suspicion that they changed every time she walked down them, it never looked the same, like it was shifting with a mind of its own.

Eventually, she found a landmark which she recognised and followed it along to the atrium. Her heart beat faster, not knowing what to expect. Except the fact that there could be blatta stood right behind her, or even beside her and she wouldn't know. Super soldiers never were fun when used against the good guys, bet they never thought of that when making them.

Her shaking hands gripped the door, and then she slowly edged it open to allow her eyes to wander its contents. They jostled from side to side, scanning the room. Everything looked normal, there were still loads of people in there, getting on with their day to day activities. But there was something new. The blatta were no longer invisible, but lined the edges of the walls with their swords drawn as though they were not guarding the people, but intimidating them. Also it was subtle, though she could see the fake expressions on their faces. The people were terrified, looking out the corner of their eye constantly to check they weren't about to be killed. And then she spotted Magnum standing on the vehicle exit lift, which was positioned half way up. He leaned against the metal bars and looked out upon everyone, his eyes scanning for someone to kill.

A man broke away from the crowd. Mercy didn't recognise him. He had dark hair and tanned skin, but none of that mattered, since he only made it two metres before erupting into a cloud of smoke. His entire body was gone. The Lamina had killed him within seconds.

Mercy recoiled from the door, her heart pounding. She would need to find another way out. There was no way she could reach Magnum, but she couldn't just leave Doc Remedy alone.

She sighed and made up her mind. There was nothing she could do here, it's not like she was running away. She would leave, and come back with Grim and the 'gang'. They would know what to do.

She suddenly remembered something that Doc Remedy had said. Grim arrested Murum and put him in jail. That could be her way out.

Setting off at a jogging pace, she made her way over to the cells, hoping that Magnum hadn't already released Murum. In her fortune, he was still sat there staring idly into the corner of the room. He looked up when she entered.

"What do you want?" he growled, narrowing his eyes.

Mercy smiled. "Shouldn't be so rude to the person who's about to release you."

"Why would you release me?"

"I want to make a deal," she said, "you get me out of here, and I will let you out the cell."

"What happens once we get to the surface?"

"Well I'll let you go free," she said, "can't promise I won't come after you in the future. But you'll get a head start at least."

He looked at her for a long time as though studying her to determine if she was being truthful or not.

"Magnum will release me."

"I doubt it." Her tone was mocking, "he's been in control a long time. If he was planning on letting you walk, he'd have done it by now."

He sighed. "Fine, get me outta here."

She forced him to shake her hand through the bars, before picking the lock of the cell. It was relatively easy, but that's because she was familiar with their systems. She drew her sword, and used it to batter his handcuffs until they fell off him loosely. He traced his wrists with the tip of his finger, enjoying freedom once again, just as Mercy grabbed his jacket.

"I've let you out, now take us out of here."

He rolled his eyes. "You're so bossy, hey are you single?"

"You are not flirting with me right now."

"How about when we get back to the surface? I know this nice Chinese place that has the best food on the entire planet."

"Can I just make this clear," she said, "you do not flirt with me, otherwise I will break every bone and organ in your body, apart from the one needed to feel pain."

"Jeez, gimme a break," he said defensively, "you're the first girl I seen since being locked up here, and before that I spent years in the vault. You can imagine I'd be desperate for any girl."

"What are you trying to say? Am I not attractive enough for you?"

"So now you're offended I'm not flirting." She ignored his comment and indicated that he should get moving.

They moved up to the edge of the wall, his magic was quickly draining back to him now that the handcuffs were off him. "Whatever you do," he warned, "don't let go." She nodded.

Together, after he insisted on holding hands, they ran towards the wall. She closed her eyes, expecting an impact. Instead there was a multitude of colours, and a floating feeling in the pit of her stomach that somehow didn't feel natural. Mercy felt herself rise, and then they touched down on the surface.

"Alright, I did my part," he said, "so I can go?"

Mercy nodded. "A deals a deal." He turned to leave, sending one cursory glance back. He flashed her a quick smile, turned and....

He was knocked off his feet by a huge fist, falling to the ground completely out cold. Grim stood over him with a slight smirk, heading towards Mercy.

"Hey," she said, feigning anger, "I made a deal with him."

"I didn't."

Patience was trailing behind him, as usual, though this time she held herself higher. She always thought well of herself, but somehow now she seemed more dutiful, like she had realised what was at stake here.

A lot had changed in the short time that she had spent in a coma. She was happy to be back though, even under the circumstances.

"We have to go back," she pleaded, "Magnum is going crazy. We have to stop him."

Grim held up his hand to calm her. "You need rest," he said, "we'll help them, I promise. But we have to be ready."

"Fine," she said, unable to argue back, she was too exhausted and lacking of a plan, "where to next then, boss?"

Grim glowered at the praise of superior authority. "Mortus is expecting us." She could see that Patience had a bit of nerves flickering across her face, probably from a desire to see her family one last time.

Mercy knew she wasn't the type to give up and leave. Patience just wanted to say goodbye to them – just in case.

24

THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

Patience didn't like Mortus' house. It was dank and dark, depressing and hollow. Her eyes kept shifting over to the open basement door, the room in which she discovered her uncle was dead and where she was haunted by those spirits. There was a cold draft wafting up through the door, causing her to shiver and feel as cold as a corpse.

She made a coffee to warm herself up, realising at that moment why she had spent all these years without it – coffee was disgusting. In the end, she tipped it away and sat on the cold stone steps leading to the basement, away from everyone else. It was cold, but there was a part of her that embraced the self-torment. It was her blood, the blood of the Old Ones, which had enabled her to pull the Lamina out of the stone, and so it was her fault that Magnum now has it and was killing people. It was her fault that they were dying – or dead already.

Her fingers ran down her bruised legs. Pain dug into her but she only tightened her pressure, it was the least she deserved. Before long, tears were striking at her eyes, emotion coiling around her like a cobra squeezing its prey to death. Every time she heard footsteps, she buried her head against her arms, allowing her jacket to soak up the tears and muffle her quiet sobs. Eventually, she climbed down into the steps and looked up at the roof, expecting mist to crowd round her again. But nothing.

"Bernard?" she cried, "please, I need you." She was aware of how stupid her attempts were. She was certain that she fitted into the category of elemental. But even if she could find a way to use the necromancer's ability of spirit walking, her uncle had moved on. He was gone. Even Mortus wouldn't be able to get him back.

She dropped onto her knees and cried some more. This time the cold got worse, attacking her skin and bringing up red patches all across the surface.

"What're you doing down here?" said Mercy, softly. Patience panicked, quickly deciding that she wouldn't tell her anything about what was going on in her head. There was no way she could burden that on someone else, and it would sound silly being said aloud.

"It's all my fault," she said. Oh God. She couldn't help it. "I took the Lamina out of the stone, no one else could have done it."

Mercy sat on the steps and looked at her with an understanding expression. But she didn't understand.

No one did. How could they? "They would have found another way."

"No they wouldn't." Her voice came out harsh and unappreciative, she didn't mean to be rude. "They needed my blood, without it, the Lamina was impregnable. It was all my fault. I did it to save my family, it was all for my own selfish gain."

"Patience, if there's one thing I've learned from being in this world, it's that there is always a way. Yes, magic has boundaries, but they are not rigid. Boundaries move and shift, and they are different for each person. They would have found a way, because in a world where anything is possible, everything is possible." Patience lowered her head, still facing away from her. "Anyway, you did it to save your family.

That's a natural human reaction. We would all have done the same. It is not selfish in the slightest."

"Grim is angry at me."

"No, I've seen him angry.... once. And trust me, you would know." Patience managed a small smile out the corner of her mouth. She stood up and trudged over to the steps, setting herself down beside Mercy.

"How did you do it?" asked Patience, "I mean, how did you leave those people? Don't get me wrong, it was definitely the right thing to do. Just not the easiest thing."

Mercy's eyes widened as though she was remembering something. "It was hard, more than anyone could ever understand. A part of me really wanted to stay and try to do something to stop Magnum. But my training offered me one skill that is useful, but hard to use, devastating for when you look back, but necessary."

"What's that?"

"Emotional detachment. I just had to separate myself from the current situation I was in, think of it like an outsider making a judgement. Then I came to the decision that there was nothing I could do. I would just get myself killed, and wouldn't save any lives. The most worthwhile thing to do would be to escape and get help. Sometimes the brave option isn't the best one, sometimes you have to be a coward."

"I don't think you're a coward," said Patience, "I think that what you did was the bravest thing possible."

Mercy's face rose. "Come on, the others will be wondering where we've got to, and if you haven't noticed, it's freaking cold down here."

"I noticed." Her skin was now a sickly blue, almost completely lost from its original colour.

They went back upstairs and met with Grim and Mortus, acting as though nothing had happened. They all had something to eat, and then sat around on chairs with a table in the centre.

Mercy started off by telling them everything that had happened. From when she was captured and put up a mental block, to waking up and being saved by Doc Remedy. Patience offered appropriate back channelling for the more shocking moments. Shouting insults at the people who hurt her, and offering excuses as to why Mercy could have lost the fight.

"She caught you off guard," said Patience, "and you were probably so distracted at her ridiculous hair that you couldn't fight to your full capacity." Then she reached the part about Magnum shooting people with the Lamina, and describing how it was used.

Patience felt herself quivering with fear at the thought of it. She had expected some kind of long dramatic death as the people struggled for their life. But it wasn't like that at all, not like the movies. In the movies it was long and drawn out. Now she realised that death wasn't like that. All it would take is a single point of that weapon and she would be dead before she even had the chance to realise what had happened.

"Do you think he killed everyone?" asked Grim.

It was Mortus who spoke up. "I don't think so. I checked the spirits this morning and couldn't see any fluctuation. A death like that would likely throw them up like a big colourful beacon, they would stand out like a sore thumb."

"I think he was trying to make a point with the murders," said Mercy, "he needed them to obey him because even the most powerful weapon in the world can't take on a whole army of sorcerers. He needed people to be submissive, fear for their lives so much that they obey his every word."

Patience thought about what she was saying about an army of sorcerers. The problem was that his plan was working, effectively he was now the Luminary. And she doubted anyone would dare stand up against him, except the four of them of course. But four was hardly an army, even if they are pretty awesome –

especially her.

She didn't voice these concerns. No sense bludgeoning morale into the ground for no good reason other than because it's the truth.

"So, I think it is generally agreed that we can't beat him while he has the Lamina," said Patience, "so how do we get him away from it? He probably sleeps with it, eats with it, and we know he kills with it."

Grim nudged forward, looking grave but not without hope. "We need a distraction of some kind. We can't plan one because we don't know exactly where he will be when we arrive, or who he will aim for first. We'll just have to co-ordinate in the moment." She didn't like the idea of a distraction, it wasn't exactly something that was easy to avoid, it was more like laying your own head out on the chopping block.

Fear struck her. Magnum was doing all this to protect himself from the Old Ones, he hated them. Which meant that the fact that Old One blood flowed through her body would probably make her a keen target.

She was scared that she wasn't going to get out of this alive. In fact, she half expected not too.

"What happens if I die?" she said, not meaning to say it aloud.

"You'll be fine," said Mercy.

Grim patted her on the shoulder. "And if not, something will be organised. Your family will be spun the nicest story possible, they will be monitored to make sure that they are coping. We won't abandon them."

"How can you be sure?"

"I will take care of it personally."

"Well I was under the assumption that if I died, you would be dead too."

Grim laughed. "I'm not dying, have you seen my dashing good looks. It would be a crime to kill someone so handsome."

"I'm pretty sure it's a crime to kill anyone, no matter how they look."

"Oh, yeah."

They decided that they would get a good night sleep before 'trying their luck' at stopping Magnum.

Patience was determined to do something. Despite what Mercy said, she still felt guilty. None of this stuff would be happening if it wasn't for her. But then everything that had happened so far seemed out of her control. Her uncle being kidnapped and murdered, the Lamina, it all seemed like they were being controlled by variables that were out of her sight. She was losing grasp of her reality, and it was starting to get out of her control. There was just a matter of time until something bad happened, and she feared it would be tomorrow, the moment when it was most crucial.

25

TO SAVE THE WORLD

Time seemed to work at an unusual pace, slowing and speeding throughout the entire journey. Patience sat in the back with Mercy, while Mortus sat in the passenger seat and Grim driving. He mainly kept his eyes focused on the road, Mortus was silent, as always, and Mercy was joking around with Patience.

"And she literally had a foot the size of a boulder," she said, "it just grew and grew until she couldn't even stand. She had to have someone cut it off and replace it with an awesome metal limb."

"They can do that?"

"Cyborgs aren't the future, not with magic." They both looked at each other for a moment before bursting out into horrendous fits of laughter. Her face had gone a bright red and she was biting her lip to try and control herself.

Mortus looked around. "Can you two quit it," he said, angrier than she had ever heard him before, "we are driving to what could be all our deaths, and you two are just joking around, telling stupid stories."

"You really are depressing sometimes," said Mercy, "yes, we are going into a dangerous situation, but excuse me for not resigning myself to my fate. I'm sorry if I'm not brooding enough for you."

Grim turned sharply, throwing them against the edge of the car. A part of her suspected that he did it on purpose, but he made no comment towards it. "Look, just stop arguing because it's not helping anyone.

True, we could possibly die, but also true, there is no point sitting here and being all depressed about it. I know you're probably sat there thinking 'that's rich, coming from the guy who is quite obviously the most likely to survive since he is filled with immense skills and dashing good looks'. But really, let's just save the world and be done with it."

Patience laughed. "Yeah, no biggy." Despite what her laughing might suggest, she was feeling fear creeping up on her like a shadowy panther, ready to strike. She thought about her parents, and the fact that she might never see them again. But she couldn't give up. She had to do it for her uncle, and to prevent any future harm coming to her family. It was just one of those things, and she could hardly leave this useless lot to fend for themselves.

They parked the car up in the 'out of order' petrol station, as they had before. But before Grim could reach for the pump, Mercy stopped him. "When I escaped, they were watching the entrance like hawks.

There's no way we're getting in that way. Especially if Magnum is still sat up there with the Lamina."

"We could go through the foot entrance," suggested Patience, sitting forwards from the middle seat so that she was placed between Mortus and Grim.

Grim turned to her over his shoulder. "They come out in relatively the same place, it won't help us."

They all thought for a moment, but it was Grim who seemed to stumble upon a trickle of thought first.

"Well, there is one thing we could do.... but it could be considered fairly dangerous, maybe even reckless."

"Dangerous, reckless, I like it."

Mortus, the symbol of reasonable thought spoke up. "What is this plan you're suggesting?"

"Simple, so as you all know I am an elemental. Fire and wind are a fairly common ability that you've seen me use quite frequently. Water, while less practiced, is also quite self explanatory. But there are four elements."

"Earth," said Patience, "are we going to go in through the ground?"

Grim looked.... well grim. "I haven't tried it before. I'm basing this purely on theory and grand ideas, though normally my ideas turn out to be good ones."

"And what happens if this idea doesn't turn out to be a good one?" said Mercy, "what if it goes wrong?"

"Now who's depressing?" Mortus shot Grim a look of anger. "In theory, if we were to get half way through the ground and the powers started failing..... then the tunnel would probably cave in on itself, and we would all be buried alive under hundreds of metres of dirt. If the sheer weight of it doesn't crush us into pieces, we will hover there until our organs shut down from lack of oxygen."

Patience didn't like the sound of it. There were some things you just don't do. Yes, she (once eighteen) is perfectly in her right to enter the lottery, but that doesn't mean she will, and that is for the very simple fact that while it might go in her favour, it probably wouldn't. Grim's plan was like the lottery, except instead of losing money they would be subjected to a horrible and painful death. Damn. It sounded so exciting when she put it like that.

"I'm in," she cried, and they all turned to look at her. All with the eyes of surprise as she had made the final decision. Oh God. If they died it was on her.

Mortus sighed and resigned himself towards Grim. "If this goes wrong, it won't be lack of oxygen that you need to be worried about. It's my hand wrapping around your throat."

"Which technically would still be loss of oxygen that kills me, nice try though," said Grim, "and besides, you're already dead. You'd probably just end up lying down there for centuries until someone digs you up." Patience had the amusing image of a middle-aged man walking above with a metal detector, getting excited when he realised he discovered something, and then his look of terror as he realised that he had uncovered a living, dead zombie.

"Let's do this," said Mercy, being the first to climb out the car. They followed around the back of the petrol station, where it was more secluded, and waited for the final car to pass by. When they were certain the area was deserted they formed a circle and all locked their hands.

"Is this necessary," said Mortus, "we look ridiculous."

Mercy started singing. "Ring a ring a roses...."

"Shut up."

Grim finished the circle by filling the space. "Okay, so no one let go while we are going down or you might be lost, or killed, or one of the other numerous painful ways your life could end. Just keep hold of one another, and let me do all the work – as you normally do."

With that last final word, they all muttered a 'good luck' to one another before planting their feet firmly on the ground. A moment later and it began to shake like an earthquake was beginning. Cracks began to form beneath them, slowly spreading like thin tendrils branching out. The cracks expanded, forming a gaping hole beneath them. Patience had one last moment to observe the beautiful sunlight before her stomach lurched, and she fell into darkness.

She looked down to see the ground opening up beneath them even as they fell, whereas the earth above her head sealed itself back up as though it had never even opened. She tried to remain calm. If the magic stopped now then they would be lost in the middle of the ground, with no way out.

Grains of dirt flooded up her nose and scoured her face. She closed her eyes to stop it filling them, wanting desperately to use her hands to protect her skin, but knowing that she couldn't risk letting go.

There was one final crack as they collapsed out onto some kind of solid surface. At first she thought his magic had stopped working and they were lost underground, it was certainly dark enough. But then as she glanced upwards, she realised they were in the corridors of the Imperium.

"Okay," he said, "I expect Magnum is in the Luminary's chamber, so I suppose we'll head straight there."

"Do we even have a plan?" asked Patience.

"What do you mean?"

"He kinda has the most powerful weapon in the universe."

"And you have me."

"Not filling me with confidence. I can't believe I am saying this, but I think we need a plan."

Mortus sighed, and then said one of the things she thought him most unlikely to say. "As you just pointed out, he has the most powerful weapon known to man. How do you propose we come up with a plan to fight it? We can't, that's the point. Our only bet is to get in there and improvise, there's no other way."

That wasn't really what she was hoping for. All of these adventures she had been having with Grim, not one time did she stop and think it would be better if they planned. Every time they walked into it blindly and came out for the better, but this time she wasn't so sure. So much was riding on this, and the odds were stacked against them. Surely there was something they could do to guarantee their victory. She just didn't like leaving it to chance, and a very slim chance at that.

"I have to do something first," said Mercy, to everyone's surprise, "I left Doc Remedy in the medical wing and told her I would be back. I have to check on her."

Grim nodded. "If I'm not mistaken, that's not far away, and more or less on the way. So, we can make a slight detour there first." It was agreed. Not really a plan, but at least they had something to focus on before the big moment. Also, Doc Remedy had been hiding out here for a good day now, maybe she'd heard something or caught a rumour of what was going on. They might find that it could help them.

They entered the medical wing to find it was completely deserted. No deceased lay on the beds, but Patience supposed you could hardly treat smoke.

But Doc Remedy was nowhere to be seen either.

"Doc?" called Mercy, "it's me. Said I'd come back for you, and I brought friends. We're here to help."

There was movement behind one of the beds, and Patience caught sight of the neat hair of Doc Remedy peering out over one of the sheets. For a moment she hesitated, before slowly rising up into full view. Her face was completely void of colour, and her hands were shaking uncontrollably.

"There you are," said Mercy, "I'm sorry for leaving you, but we needed backup."

"It's alright," she said, holding her arms to steady them as her whole body shook, "I knew you would be back, you never could keep away from danger."

"That's true. We just wanted to check you're alright, and see if you heard anything while you've been hiding out here."

Remedy pulled herself up onto one of the beds and stared over at them. She seemed to relax a little as her posture straightened up and the inklings of a smile threatened to creep onto her face, though it was more from relief than happiness. "I managed to analyse the weapon a little. I did some research. The name comes from the mythological being of the Lamia, a beautiful queen who turned into a child-eating demon."

"I know the story," said Grim.

Remedy shuffled uncomfortably. "Well, I believe that these are not thin links. When the weapon is activated a red glow is given into the blade. I think this is sucking the person's 'blood', or life force before it turns them to smoke. If this fits with my knowledge of Lamia, each time it kills, it gets stronger."

Patience widened her eyes. "You mean it is evolving."

"Precisely, and I think Magnum is aware of this. He is using the people like cattle, slowly increasing the strength of the Lamina with every person that he drains."

"But why would he do this? It's already powerful enough."

"For human's maybe, but Magnum believes that the Old Ones will eventually return to enslave mortals and sorcerers alike. He could be trying to increase the strength so that when the Old Ones return, he has the power to defeat them."

"That seems plausible," said Grim, "but no matter what his reasons are, it doesn't change the fact that the weapon is not getting any weaker. So, I think we should act quickly before the threat seriously gets out of hand."

"Oh, because it isn't out of hand already," said Mortus.

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, my friend," said Grim, "by the way, I really love your hair today." Grim was equally as bad at sarcasm.

Oh he could be annoying sometimes, and it wasn't even directed at her this time.

"Do you two even realise how much time you're wasting by trying to outwit each other?" said Mercy,

"just accept I am the wittiest, and then we can go and stop this guy from destroying the world as we know it." They all agreed, with the second bit, obviously the first wasn't exactly true. Patience firmly held that position for herself.

They left Doc Remedy in the medical wing once again, as they made their way down the corridor.

Patience was completely ignorant as to which direction they should go, but Grim seemed to know well enough. Just as he started saying "we're nearly there", he stopped in his tracks and looked ahead.

The air was displaced, and a man with an overhanging visor and great sword stood ahead. Patience was unsettled by how much it looked like he had been expecting them. Surely Magnum couldn't have known they were coming.

"There's only one of them," said Mercy, drawing her swords, "let's just get this over with quickly."

Grim ran in first, propelling himself forwards with a gust of wind before laying a fist downwards onto the side of his cheek. The blatta stumbled backwards, recovering in a second. It swung its sword with a terrifying force, more than enough to cut someone cleanly in half. Mercy joined him, swinging her swords to intercept the sharp side of his incoming attack.

The blatta kicked backwards, sending Grim into the wall. Then flicked the swords out of Mercy's hand and punched her backwards.

Strings of shadow tore passed Patience, wrapping around the limbs of the blatta and dragging him onto the floor. She watched as Mortus struggled, throwing more black 'stuff' in its direction. It took all his effort, but he managed to pin it down. Patience swept up one of Mercy's swords and threw it into her outstretched hands. Mercy caught it, and in one fluid motion, buried the tip into the back of its neck. She twisted and pulled it out, revealing dark blood as the blatta died. The shadows returned to Mortus, escaping up the sleeve of his long, black cloak.

"Good teamwork," said Grim.

"Teamwork?" said Patience, "you spent most of the time helplessly leaning against a wall."

He flicked his hair back. "Just because I knew you would cramp my style."

"Have you ever actually listened to the words that come out of your mouth?"

They continued down the corridor, so far not sustaining any injuries. Patience was left buzzing from the previous fight, it was nice to win something early on. It set the tone for the rest of the fights to come, or at least she hoped it would. As long as they all stuck together, all four of them, everything would be fine.

She recognised the door ahead, and rushed through it, finding herself in the emptiness of the atrium. All the stalls and side decoration lay broken and scattered. It was a sad sight to see what was once a flourishing area, being reduced to.... this. It was made even worse by the fact that she realised they were not in fact alone.

"We meet again," said Viper, adding an extra hiss into her words. They formed a line, ready to attack.

But Mercy stepped ahead of all of them. She looked determined, and didn't remove her gaze from Viper.

"I've got this," she said. Patience opened her mouth to complain, but Mercy silenced her. "You have to stop Magnum, we don't have long. Just go, I'll deal with this.... thing."

Patience felt her insides twist uncomfortably, remembering the last encounter Mercy had with Viper. It hadn't ended well, and she feared that this would be no different. She wanted to complain, but knew Mercy was right.

"Let's go," said Mortus, nodding towards Mercy as they rushed past. Viper didn't make a move towards them. Primarily she was working for Magnum, and should have tried to stop them. But her desire for deadly combat got the better of her. Despite winning before, Mercy was her ultimate combatant, and she was hardly about to let this opportunity pass her by.

Patience allowed herself one last look at Mercy before putting her head down and moving on. They passed through the waiting room and Grim rested his hands on the handle of the Luminary's chamber. Why had he stopped?

"Just in case any of you die," he said, "you are both pretty awesome friends. Flawed at times, lots of times, but good nonetheless."

"And you may be an arrogant arse," said Patience, "but that's why we like you." He settled on a look that was halfway between a touched smile and a confused look of disgust. Then he just settled on a stern look. It was time.

He placed his head forwards, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open. There was no time to react.

Purple shadows raked out towards them, hitting Mortus square in the chest as he cried out in pain.

It had begun.

26

NO MERCY

Mercy

"I've got this," said Mercy. Patience opened her mouth to complain, but she held up a single finger to silence her. "You have to stop Magnum, we don't have long. Just go, I'll deal with this.... thing." Mercy looked for any signs of surprise on Viper's face, but it was neutral.

She could see a concerned look spread over Patience's face, it was obvious she doubted her skills could match Viper. To be fair, she was unsure herself. All her life, not to sound confident, she had won fights. No matter what the odds, she always ended up on top. And then she found Viper and was beaten almost to death. It was certainly a shock to the system, if nothing else.

Ahead of her, the gang were heading towards the Luminary's chambers. Patience glanced backwards, none of the others did. Although, Grim and Mortus would never understand Patience the way she did.

They had both been born into magical families, there was no tragedy involved in their entrance. Patience hid it well, but Mercy could tell that she was taking her uncle's death worse than she let on. Soon she would explode with emotion, or let it consume her. It's funny. History repeating itself. Mercy remembered when she had been in an almost identical situation, and she knew from experience it was best not to let it consume you. She still carried around the hatred and anger which accompanied the tragedies of her life.

Probably for the rest of her days.

Viper hadn't moved an inch, not even thinking to stop the gang from passing. Her eyes were fixed on Mercy. She wondered if she was reading her thoughts, maybe just from her facial expressions. She hoped not, that was a clear invasion of privacy. Oh seriously. Who was she to talk?

"I'm glad it came back to this," said Viper, "you and me. The two sword smiths given the opportunity to battle it out." Her forked tongue flickered outwardly as it rolled across her lip before retracting back into her mouth.

"Can't say I was hoping for it," said Mercy, "but I am not one of those people who can forgive easily. I never forget, and I most certainly do hold a grudge."

Viper smiled cruelly. "That's a shame, I was hoping we could be good friends."

Mercy drew her swords. There was no talking her way out of this, and that's how she liked it. Viper had made it personal from the very moment she got the upper hand. But that's not what was important. This wasn't a case of redeeming her honour, or proving a point. It was life and death, not just for her but everyone on the planet. If the gang could take down Magnum, it would take all three of them. Toss Viper into the fray as well and they didn't stand a chance.

"Glad to see you got them back," Viper said, "they're fine blades, must be very valuable to you."

"Oh they are, worth risking life and limb for."

"In that case, how about a consolation prize. If I kill you, I'm gonna take you're swords for myself."

"Well your reward is that if you don't kill me, then I'm gonna shove these swords up your...."

"Yes, well, let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Her hands fell to the side and she pulled out her own katanas. They were thinner that Mercy's, more like needles than Mercy's thicker blades. But it was sturdy enough and wouldn't break upon any impact. They were also faster and more lightweight. Mercy could remember well, the way that Viper had swung the swords with such an intense speed that it was like a blur, her human eyes could hardly follow them.

"Why don't we make this more interesting," said Viper. Her tongue reached out from her mouth to an alarming length, then she held the blade up and ran the tip across the surface. Almost immediately, it began to glow a sickly green as though it was full of infection. Poison.

They began to circle each other, though none made a move. Mercy could tell Viper was enjoying it, like a predator stalking its helpless prey just to instil a sense of fear.

"Who are you?" asked Mercy, "I can tell in your face that you know all about me. When we first met you said you knew who I was. But you... just seemed to pop out of nowhere. Every part of you seems fake, constructed, even your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Well it's not actually red. Are you going for ginger rights or something? It's not natural"

Viper scowled. "You know you're only making me want to kill you more." Mercy stared back. But she wasn't looking at the outer layer, she was concentrating. Invading Viper's mind, weaving between the maze of nerves that lead to her memories. Then she was there.

Images flashed in her head, recent ones. But other than that everything was empty.

"You suffered from amnesia," said Mercy, her voice was flat and hollow, "you don't have any memories."

"Get out of my head."

"Why do you know so much about me? More than you even know about yourself. Don't you think that strange?"

Viper rushed forwards roaring with anger. Mercy had delayed reactions as she came back to reality, shrugging away from the swing with relative ease. The anger wasn't helping Viper at all.

Mercy parried all her blows, specks of green gas propelling upwards with each impact. She blocked, jumped towards the wall and onto a stall. Viper cut the material under her feet, she hopped across and dove back to the floor with a graceful roll. She held her sword diagonal across her body, having to think twice as fast as she defended against Viper's multiple blades at once.

More images flashed into her head, a blonde woman with a pretty blue dress and her hair cut short to her ears.

"Why do you have this memory? I can see, the occasional moment floods back to you. They were my family, why are they in your head?" Viper didn't answer. It was almost as though she didn't know the answer herself.

They fought on, Viper got pushed further back towards the wall. Mercy spun her swords widdershins but Viper was able to intercept them. But it was followed up by her pouncing into the air, swinging downwards. A cut appeared across Viper's leg and on her shoulder, beginning to gush blood out onto the floor. As a puddle formed beneath her, she grimaced in pain. The green glow of her swords dyed down until eventually they appeared as the plain metal blades that they truly were.

"Maybe I was wrong about you," said Viper, "your skills serve you well. But I think history betrays you, I've proven I'm better."

"At least I have a history." She scurried to the side out of range. It seemed that the predictable techniques were the ones that Viper didn't expect.

Viper was analysing her move set and working out ways to counter her, which was why she was so confident that the past would repeat itself. So, Mercy just had to be crazy and unpredictable.

She blocked a swing, dropped underneath the second sword and kicked upwards. Viper brushed her swords across Mercy's arm, she dropped one of her swords and wasn't presented with a chance to retrieve it.

Her hands tightened around the single sword. It felt out of place only having one, like something was missing – which it was. Mercy panted heavily, ignoring the cold sensation as blood dripped down her arm.

"So, we're even," she said, "this is where it really gets exciting."

Viper glared. "You've managed to channel your emotions into a positive impact in your fighting."

"While you just stumble around in fits of rage. You're a broken woman, your memory has gone and you don't even know what you stand for. You were liberated by Magnum because he can be persuasive. Yet, it never occurred to you that it's not who you are."

"Are you expecting some kind of happy ending where I give up this little crusade, and together we skip off into the sunset and deal with Magnum together?"

Mercy faked a laugh. "I would have offered that, but you cut me. Remember, I hold grudges." The fighting sped up, each blow coming one after another. It was only a matter of time before one of them failed to defend, before a killing blow was dealt.

Mercy saw the blade coming even before it was swung. It picked up to a terrifying speed, straight towards her neck. For a moment she thought she had been too slow, but it brushed above her head skimming through the rogue hairs that pointed upwards.

She spun backwards away. Her head went cold as she felt beads of sweat slither past her eye. Then the realisation hit her. It wasn't sweat.... It was BLOOD.

Her heart beat faster. It was now or never.

Mercy turned on her heels and ran, straight up a wall for a few metres before bending her legs and pushing herself away from it like a cannon. She was upside down, pointing the sword out in front of her.

She readjusted her position so that she was upright. And then there was the impact. Her sword severed through Viper's stomach as she landed painfully on the ground.

The world seemed to spin as she lay there, then she heard a weak cough. Mercy crawled onto her front and lay over Viper, her face wasn't as she had expected. The calmness had escaped her. She looked sad.

"I win," said Mercy, feeling guilt enthral her as the crimson blood seeped through Viper's jacket. There was something pitiful about watching her die like this. "Let me help you," She placed each of her hands on either side of Viper's face, brushing the red hair away. For a moment nothing happened, then Viper went rigid and images projected into both of their minds, her memory was returning.

A tear dripped down Viper's cheek, her eyes widening in shock. "My sister," she said, her voice only coming out as a coarse whisper.

Mercy dropped her head and stumbled backwards, lost in her thoughts and in the situation. She eyed up the blade which still rested in Viper's stomach, her sister's blood covered her hand like a glove.

Viper was her sister. But how was that possible, she couldn't remember ever meeting her since a few days ago. Could it be that her memory was wiped as well? It was only then that Mercy realised the striking similarities, such as the swords, it can't be a coincidence.

"I'm sorry," she managed to mutter, although she was only sorry that she hadn't helped her sooner. She promised herself that she would find out the truth of it all, no matter what. Viper's head rocked to the side as blood hung like thin threads from her open mouth.

Mercy left the body lying there drowning in puddles of blood. She wanted to give her sister the burial she deserved, even if her only experience with her was trying to kill each other. First, she had to help her friends, which meant assessing the damage to her own body.

She stumbled into the bathroom that lay just to the side, standing in front of the mirror and looking into her own eyes. She examined the cut on her head, pulling her hair back to look underneath. Her hair had been dyed red from the blood, reminding her of Viper once again, but the bleeding seemed to have stopped and it didn't look that deep. She then checked her arm, which also seemed more like a paper cut than anything. There was no sign of infection or poison that might have been left over even after the sword returned back, so it seemed like she was safe.

It was as she stared at herself that she thought about the amnesia her sister had experienced compared to her own. Maybe she had been the one to make her forget, and then done the same to herself.

Her memory had still been returning. Mercy explored her lost memories, attaching it all back to her mind. She remembered reading through the journal at Bernard's house, finding the location of the Lamina, and then.... There was something else. She got excited at the time, knowing it was information that desperately needed to be told. A way to stop the Lamina, maybe.

She remembered.

Her eyes trailed upwards above her shoulder. They had been caught by something, a small flicker of movement. At first she considered the possibility that it was in her imagination. Oh God.

She felt a great deal of pain shoot through her, then a cold sensation that enveloped her. She looked down at the thick blade that was sticking through her chest, and then to the mirror where she saw that blatta standing behind her.

The sword was painted red with her own blood, and then it escaped back the way it had come.

She collapsed on the ground. Mercy could feel her life drain away, soon she would escape into darkness. It was a fate she accepted, but not one she particularly enjoyed the notion of. She had to tell Patience the secret. The key to stopping the Lamina, before it was too late.

27

BLOOD OF THE OLD ONES

Mortus fell to the ground with a cry of pain, or was it shock, probably both. His body went rigid as it fell, and he landed sprawled out across the floor. Patience tried to rush forwards but Grim contained her. She called out but Mortus didn't reply. Her eyes scanned him for any signs of life but his chest wasn't moving up and down, he wasn't breathing. He was dead – but of course he was, he was a zombie.

Mortus sat up, putting his hand on his head as he tried to cure his disorientation. Then he looked angry.

"What the hell did you do that for?"

Magnum laughed to himself, stepping down from the podium so that he was almost level with them, just a few steps up. "Brilliant," he said, "target practice. I get to kill you, and then again. Over and over like a toy doll." He raised the flashing blade towards Mortus, and another streak of purple shadows erupted from it. It hit him in the shoulder, sending him spiralling off into the back wall. Collapsing in a heap once again.

"Stop that," cried Patience, wanting to step forward but felt the trajectory of the Lamina fall on her. Her heart beat faster, expecting purple shadows to shoot towards her as well. But it was lowered to the floor, and she sighed in relief.

Magnum took a step onto the ground level. "What were you expecting to do here? You walk in here with no plan, nothing, and expect to beat me while the most deadly weapon ever created is in my possession."

"Sounds kind of silly when you put it like that," said Grim, "but yes, a moment of desperation led us to do desperate things. We are only human.... admittedly, we are all mortal."

"We're not mortal," snapped Magnum.

Grim looked up in surprise. "Are you sure you aren't wanting to side with the Old Ones rather than fight against them? Both of you share the same view of mortals."

"My priority is my own life, if that means killing the Old Ones, then that's what I'm willing to do. True, they have the right idea in their attitudes to mortals.... but they haven't been known to show compassion, even to their supporters."

"What makes you think they're even returning?"

"I can feel it. The Old Ones are like Gods. You may think they're defeated, but they will return. I can guarantee that."

Patience kept her eyes on the Lamina. There had to be some way to get it out of his hand, because otherwise they wouldn't stand a chance. But he was holding it so tightly, and not within range.

She saw movement out of the corner of her eye, black shadows reaching past her and crawling towards Magnum. Purple shadows shot out once again, and both colours met in the middle. There was a moment when Patience wasn't sure which way it was going, but then Mortus was picked up off his feet and flung against the ground.

Anger flared up in Grim unlike anything she'd seen before. His face turned bright red, hatred pulsing through every tiny detail of his complexion. He gritted his teeth, clenched his fist and then threw himself towards Magnum. It took a matter of moments before the short dagger was aimed straight at Grim's heart.

The purple veins began to glow, as a light grew at the sharp tip.

"Stop!" said Patience, and everyone did, then turned to look at her. "Please, just stop." Grim breathed heavily. He'd obviously anticipated his death, and accepted it.

Mangum strolled forwards, his arms dangling loosely at his side with a minimalistic grip on the hilt of the deadly weapon.

"Well now, Miss Gillespie." Patience remained silent, fear cutting through her like a sharp knife. "You showed courage, and I respect that. However, unfortunately you have the blood of the Old Ones running through your veins, so I can't allow you to live." He stepped closer, raising the Lamina to point directly towards her chest.

For a brief moment she felt the power of that blade, like it was calling out to her. She could feel that they were meant to be together, it was meant to be resting in her palm, the energy flaring up inside her and tearing out of the end of it. It was hers to use, as her ancestors had used it, as it had been used against them.

"Well what are you waiting for?" she said, her voice becoming angry at how similar this confrontation was to an actual movie. The villain would talk and talk and talk, eventually allowing the protagonist to formulate a less than coherent plan that somehow ends up working in their favour. But this wasn't a movie.

There was no quick fix to get them out of this situation, so why the hell should he treat it as such. "Just get on with it."

Light flashed at the tip of the dagger. She began to close her eyes, just able to see Grim rushing forward and knocking Magnum off balance. Purple shadows skidded off at an angle, missing her by a tiny amount.

The Lamina rolled across the floor, it was no longer in his hands.

Grim jumped towards him once more, sending him to the floor and aiming a rapid succession of punches into his face. Blood spilled out across the floor, dripping down his chin and between his teeth as he smiled.

He kicked upwards knocking Grim off, rolled backwards onto his feet and directed a kick into his chest.

As Grim followed up on his attack, something happened to Magnum's skin. It seemed to reflect, he was glowing like a light shining against him and the ring on his finger flashed red. It took her a moment to realise that he had transformed his skin into metal. At least now she knew what his magic allowed him to do. Grim's knuckle cracked against Magnum's exterior, and then got pummelled across the face.

Patience looked at the Lamina. Still just sat there. She settled her mind and focused on the manipulation of the wind. She closed her eyes and splayed out her fingers.

Magnum grabbed Grim by the collar and held him up against a wall, laying three consecutive punches into his chest with inhuman speed before slamming his knee forwards and dropping him to the floor.

She felt her fingers go cold as a breeze spread between the crevices. In her mind, she clearly saw the image of the wind slipping beneath the dagger, twirling around it like a tornado as it picked it up and delivered it closer.

Grim groaned in pain, his head must have been pounding.

Her body became weak and the wind failed to work. She would have to get it by hand, which would be difficult without being seen. Patience crawled across the floor, her knees wobbling beneath her with the tension of the stress that had built up. Magnum saw what she was trying to do. Leaving Grim lying on the floor, he stood over the Lamina before Patience could even get close.

It was pointed at her.

"I can see why you keep her around," said Magnum, looking straight at Grim, "even if she is an annoying little girl, she has spirit and a hell of a lot of courage. Which is why I am going to stamp her out like a candle."

Time seemed to slow down as everyone stopped. She looked up at the Lamina that was pointed directly at her. Magnum held a look of contempt as a flash shot from the end of the blade, filling her sightline. The only thing she heard before being hit was a cry from Mercy somewhere behind her – maybe alive, or maybe it was just in her imagination, torturing her in her last moments on the Earth.

It was more painful than she expected. The purple shadows tore into her chest, making it feel like her insides were being ripped open and spewing out across the floor. Her stomach churned as she was lifted from her feet, though the impact never seemed to come, even when she found herself glancing up at the roof from where she lay.

There was movement around her. She wondered if this was what death felt like, but then she felt her neck as it craned upwards. It was painful, but not impossible to move. Her eyes became clearer.

She saw the Lamina glowing bright red in Magnum's hand, it was obvious he hadn't been expecting it because his face was twisted into a look of confusion, and then horror. There was a blinding flash that filled the entire room before the Lamina dropped to the floor and Magnum was tossed across the room like a ragdoll. Somehow the Lamina must have backfired. He wasn't a cloud of smoke, but he certainly wasn't looking too good either.

But she was alive. Somehow, she was able to move. Was this some sustained life? Just allowing her a few moments of consciousness before she slipped away. But that's not what it felt like. She ached. She actually felt pain striking into her body, surely that wouldn't be happening if she was dead.

Her eyes looked to the side as she saw Mercy walking in, she was alive. Oh God. She had a great, big, massive hole in her chest, and a trail of blood followed her.

Magnum was back on his feet, he walked straight past the Lamina which once again lay un-wielded, and approached her, still lying on the floor.

His boot pressed against her neck and blocked all air getting through. His metal face had patches of skin showing through, and fountains of blood pouring from his open wounds.

"You've become more trouble than you're worth," he said, bitterly, "it'll take a lot more than that to get rid of me." Grim punched a patch of skin, sending Magnum reeling backwards. Patience took in a long breath and managed to sit up. Magnum kicked out and sent Grim flailing backwards, but he was able to stay on his feet. For a moment they both stared at each other angrily.

"The great Grim," mocked Magnum, "you're legendary, and now you're going to die protecting a mortal girl."

"She's no more mortal than you are," he said, "and who said I'm gonna die?"

"Well I did."

"I don't care what you say."

"You asked."

"This is pointless." Grim thrust a stream of fire into Magnum's chest, it seemed to encircle him but was stamped out almost immediately. Magnum rushed through the ashen smoke and elbowed towards Grim's neck. It was dodged, but the low kick wasn't, and Grim tumbled to the floor.

Magnum stood over him, laying multiple punches into his side to keep him down.

"Not so clever now are you."

Grim spat blood. "Jesus, you're even uglier from down here."

"Don't worry," said Magnum, "you can give your blunt wit a rest, it'll all be over soon."

Patience hadn't even been aware of the fact that she was moving, it had been an instinct. Although as she got closer to the Lamina, she knew for certain that it was the blade itself which was drawing her nearer. Calling for her to hold it.

Magnum pulled back his huge metal fist.

She wrapped her fingers around it, feeling the hilt join with her hand like they were made perfectly for one another. She felt its presence, like it was a living creature, and it was inside her. Something felt strange as though she was feeling truly comfortable for the first time in her life, but another part of her felt horribly secluded.

She pointed the blade.

Magnum raised his head, his eyes widening and mouth opening to scream, but no words made it out.

She felt the raw magic gallop through her as purple shadows shot forwards. Her hand recoiled and it dropped from her grip. It flashed red as the shadows impacted with Magnum's chest, and he slowly dissolved into gaseous smoke.

Patience fell on the floor, feeling nauseous, wanting to fall unconscious more than anything but felt too much adrenaline to do so. It was holding her prisoner. Grim rushed forward and scraped her up from the floor, asking if she was ok.

She managed to utter just three words. "Okay.... check Mercy." He nodded, laying her down gently and moving off somewhere to her right. She managed to roll over to get a better view.

From the looks of things, her friend was drowning in her own blood. Mortus was awake again and standing beside them.

"Take her to Doc Remedy," said Grim, urgency apparent in his voice. Mortus scooped her up and jogged out the way they had come. Then Grim came over and kneeled beside her. "I think she's going to be okay. What about you?"

Patience felt words tumble through her dry throat. "You're face is all broken," she said, "it's almost as ugly as it normally is."

He laughed. "You're the one to talk, then again, you did survive a shot from the Lamina. Some credit must be given."

"Mortus survived too."

"Yeah, but he's already dead. You... you're human."

Patience tried to sit up, but failed. "Human.... but with blood of the Old Ones running through these veins of mine. Do you think that's why I survived?"

"I think it has something to do with it," he said, "but not completely, remember this weapon was the Old Ones downfall in the end. So it must be functional, even on them."

"What are you saying?"

"If you remember what Doc Remedy said, the Lamina gets stronger with every use, and Magnum wanted to increase its power so that it could be used against the Old Ones. I think what we witnessed was the results of the Lamina not being strong enough. It was too weak for you."

"You mean I was too strong for it."

"Yeah, don't get cocky."

"Like that would ever happen."

After a while, he picked her up and carried her in his arms. It was far faster than trying to support her hobbling along, and she quite enjoyed the 'ride'.

They passed through the Atrium, catching sight of a puddle of blood. There was a body shaped gap in the puddle, someone had been laid there, but they were no longer there. She wondered if that was where Viper lay, but it didn't answer the question as to where the body had disappeared off to.

Patience relaxed her mind, for she was the hero of the day. Yes, Grim had taken most of the beating and saved her skin multiple times, Mercy had taken a giant sword to the chest and Mortus had been murdered three times over. But at the end of it all, she had finished the job, and OH did she feel smug about it.

28

QUIT WHILE YOU'RE A HEAD

Kensuke

Kensuke didn't like life as a head. It was very dark, and lonely, and he would never be able to experience small things, like feeling the sand between his toes ever again as he jogged across a beach. Not that he liked beaches, or jogging for that matter. He was more of a sitting down kind-of-guy. Actually, now that he thought about it, he was sort of suited to life as a head.

Occasionally the small things that came with having a body crept up on him and made him long to be back on his neck, being able to actually move and do things. But it wasn't so bad, not really. It may not be the most luxurious life but it was simple and honest. Not to mention, he would be able to park in disabled parking spaces, finally. Not that he could actually drive a car without hands, or sight, or even a body for that matter.

He wasn't exactly certain why he was even able to think these things. Sure, his brain was still intact in his head, in all its glory. But he had no body, no heart, and no consciousness. This was all very impossible. Was this what heaven felt like, or someone's idea of hell, just pure darkness.

There was something he still had though, ears. In fact, the only thing keeping him relaxed for the past few hours, or was it weeks, was the rhythmical pattering of rain against the hollow roof above him, or below him – his orientation was so messed up right now. Any lesser man would have been driven insane from grief and the humiliation of it all, but not Kensuke, he was too strong to allow himself to wallow in sadness all because of the small and meaningless fact that he was a head. He felt certain that one day he would learn to roll, and then maybe eventually his other senses would return. He might be able to see, once again view the beauty and colour of the world. He might be able to taste. Maybe he would go back to the bakery, whoever was running it now, and taste one of Momma's Multiple-layered Chocolate Fudge Cakes for the final time. It was going to be glorious. He just had a few obstacles to overcome first, like the darkness, and immobility, and general death.

There was a sound of wood scraping against the hard floor, and then footsteps approaching. He expected a cry of horror. A few days ago a woman had come in, possibly to do the cleaning. She screamed, ran away and hadn't returned since. He really should have hired proper, loyal staff. It was strange, Kensuke had always dreamed about making people scream as they fall down at his feet. The screams of horror should satisfy him, but it actually made him feel sad and empty inside – figuratively speaking, since he is quite literally empty inside.

Kensuke didn't hear any footsteps running away, or horrified screams though. Instead they approached very close to him. He could hear their breathing right beside his ear. Then, his eyes opened and his vision was immediately repaired, albeit in black and white. But who cares about the colours of the world anyway, he could see.

The first sight he saw was his saviour. A man dressed in a black cloak with a black lipped smile and short black hair. You know, maybe it wasn't all black, maybe that was just because the only two colours he could actually see were black and white. He wanted to see pink again more than anything, or the red of blood.

"Kensuke Addington?" said the man. At least his ears were working fine. He wondered if his mouth was still working.

"Yes, that's me," he said, trying to hold back his excitement. He had been lifted from hell, and he had this man to thank for it.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," said the man, showing his dazzling white teeth – or were they? Kensuke really had to learn to deal with this. "You work for me now."

"Oh, yes of course, master," he said. He had never bowed the knee, he was the supreme leader, not some pawn. Yet he found himself agreeing to the terms. How can you not love someone who has brought you back from the dead?

"Very good." There's was a blinding flash of white light and Kensuke found his vision gone again.

Then, a brief moment later, the world flashed before him once again in the black and white filter he had been growing used to over the last few minutes. Although, now his saviour was standing a good few metres away, so what was holding him up?

He looked down, his face twisting into a smile that spread from ear to ear. His beautiful body, it had been returned to him. He wanted to spring up in the air and cheer, but was extremely exhausted. You'd think after all that lying down as a head he would be rearing to go out for some exercise, but really he just wanted to lie down again and have a long snooze.

"I have returned your body," said the man, "I gave you legs so that you may bow." Kensuke lowered himself onto his knee and bowed his head. "Good, now I have a job for you."

"Anything," said Kensuke, "I owe you my life."

The man smiled. "It is not your life I want, but someone else's."

So much for returning to the baking business. It seemed there was hope for his career as a super villain after all, and he had just been given a jumpstarted promotion. Oh goody. He could hardly contain his excitement.

29

NO REST FOR THE WICKED

Patience was there when Mercy finally managed to open her eyes. Doc Remedy immediately ran in, fussing over her to check her pulse, temperature and any other measurable things she could think of. Even from behind the glass, she saw Mercy shrugging off the help, giving that 'I'm way too tough to accept help' kind of look. She recognised it only from the simple fact that she had used it herself often enough.

Once she was satisfied that Doc Remedy had worked her magic, Patience stepped into the room and leaned over the bed. It was nice to see Mercy smiling again, but there was clearly pain behind it. Not physical pain, that wasn't bothering her. No, there was some pain behind that facade, rooted deeper than any aches could reach.

"How're you feeling?" asked Mercy.

"I should be the one asking that question."

"You were taking too long, and I was getting bored of the awkward silence."

Patience grinned. "Glad to see nothing changes. I was worried for a while back there, thought you'd lost a fair fight." Mercy looked down at her white sheets, giving Patience the feeling that she had said something wrong. "It's all over now, Magnum is dead and we have the Lamina."

"What're you gonna do with it?"

"We're not sure. It has to go somewhere that no one will ever find it, but..."

"You're worried that Magnum was right about the Old Ones coming back." Patience fell silent for a few minutes, pulling up a chair that scraped along the floor with a jarring sound, then sitting.

"He could be right," said Patience, "I know he's crazy and everything. But this whole thing has made me hyper aware of my blood, and I just have this feeling nibbling up inside me."

Mercy nodded. "I understand." She looked sad again, "I know what it's like to have a feeling eating you up inside. You want to tell people but are scared how they'll react. But no matter how much you try, you can't shake that feeling, because no matter what others say, it will always be so important to you."

"How did you know?"

"Let's just say.... I had a lot of time to think while I was in the coma." Patience nodded, making the link between that and her sadness, but not wanting to point it out.

They sat there for a long while, just chatting about everything. Then the thought occurred to her. She had become so grounded in this world of magic, it finally felt like she belonged. But it was over. They had found her uncle's killer, and stopped him. Everything would go back to normal. But she didn't want that, she didn't want Grim to take her away and force her to live a normal life.

She considered pleading with Mercy to wipe her memory. It would be easier living a fuller mortal life without knowing the existence of magic, but she couldn't bring herself to do it, and she probably wouldn't be able to since her uncle revealed it to her.

After a while, Grim joined them, checking on Mercy. "I'm sorry to sound rude, but I was here for Patience." She bowed her head, here it was. The moment where he tells her that she is to be dropped off at home, back with her parents and her other boring family and nonexistent friends. Back to reality.

"There's a report of sorcerers attacking mortals in the street," said Grim, "are you ready for the next adventure?" She perked up, a smile spreading across her face. She didn't have to go home, he wanted her to stay. She felt like throwing herself at him and wrapping her arms around his thin waist, but forced words through her mouth instead.

"You mean we don't even get a rest for our hard-work?"

"Well that would kind of negate the point of it being 'hard' work, there are no breaks to be had."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way." He flashed her a smile as they left the medical wing, and climbed into Bessy once again – left parked in the petrol station. In silence, they pulled out and along the road. However, the silence wasn't a horrible sombre one. It was an overwhelming sense of happiness spreading through her, and apart from that, relief as well.

"I was talking to Mercy, and I don't want to get rid of the Lamina," she said, "I know it's like the most dangerous weapon in the world and all, and could easily be used against us – again. But I fear for what Magnum said, about the Old Ones returning. I think we might need it." Grim thought for a moment, though she was unsure whether he was focusing on getting through the green light before it flashed red, or his mind was stirring with thoughts of the Lamina.

Eventually he spoke. "Alright, we will hide it behind the protective barrier at your uncle's house, temporarily. Murum won't know it's there, and neither will anyone else apart from us. It should be safe for a short amount of time, and the barrier will protect it from most people. And then we must agree never to use it again, unless in the most dire of circumstances."

"Agreed."

"Not even if you're worried and want to take it with you for insurance. That can't happen. We cannot risk it getting into the hands of some bad guy, so, we leave it there until the Old Ones attack. Or for the rest of time." She nodded. Worried about her restraint. If Grim or her family was placed in danger, she was unsure that she would be able to resist the urge to use it in order to guarantee their lives are spared.

She would have to muster the strength to say no.

They may have saved the world this time, but Patience was certain that there was a whole waiting list of people who were watching and waiting for their opportunity to threaten the world. But she would make sure that they're there to kick their butt, or at least watch someone stronger do it for them.

It was not a good time to be a criminal.

Document Outline

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PATIENCE DEDICATION Acknowledgements 01. BLOOD, BLOOD EVERYWHERE 02. A SECRET SOCIETY 03. RIPPER STREET 04. FRIENDLY NEIGHBOURHOOD ZOMBIE NECROMANCER 05.THE FEARSOME FIVE 06. THE IMPERIUM 07. A SPARK OF MAGIC 08. THE RED HERRING 09. X MARKS THE SPOT 10. IVIS MONTAGUE 11. THE VAULT 12. CLAIRVOYANT TRICKERY 13. SEA OF SPIRITS 14. A VERY CUNNING RESCUE 15. PLOTTING FOR REVENGE 16. THE MOONLIGHT HOTEL 17. DULL FAMILY PARTIES 18. THERAPY FOR KENSUKE 19. THE JOURNAL 20. A GOOD NIGHT SLEEP 21. THE SCHISM COMPLEX 23. BOSS KILLING 24. SOUNDS OF SCREAMS 25. THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM 26. TO SAVE THE WORLD 27. NO MERCY 28. BLOOD OF THE OLD ONES 29. QUIT WHILE YOU'RE A HEAD 30. NO REST FOR THE WICKED

