through its facets. Able to handle the power through his mixed heritage of dragon and human, it had manifested as tattoos on his arm, and as the silver blade he held in his grip. Callum walked forward into the room, and towards the innocuous wooden panelled wardrobe at its centre. He stood in front of it, and readied himself.
Midnight is called the witching hour for a reason. Midnight is when the fabric of reality thins, and gets a bit frayed. It's at that point that things start to come through.
Most people don't believe in the things that haunt the night. The Guild, however, takes the time to believe in things that exist, even if no-one else believes in them.
Like Bogeymen, for example.
The doors of the wardrobe snapped open, revealing the darkness within. Elizabeth sighted over Callum's shoulder, and fired. Callum felt the bullet whistle past his ear, and heard it thump into something inside the wardrobe. A deep growl, rumbled in the depths of the darkness and, in a fluid, insidious motion, the Bogeyman poured itself out onto the floor. It stood up to its full, seven foot height, and glared down at the swordsman.
“...Nathaniel?”
“Yes, Callum?”
“Can you seal the wardrobe, please?”
“Of course.”
Nathaniel held his hand out, palm up, and concentrated. A wall of golden flame leapt from the base of the wardrobe to the top. The Bogeyman looked over its shoulder, and seemed to shrink slightly.
“It's cut off from the void, Callum. Your turn!”
Callum grinned up at the creature, and swung his sword in a swift horizontal cut. The bogeyman's head flew from its body to fall to the floor, its body following suit.
Callum turned back to the two at the door as they walked into the cell.
“Well, that wasn't too bad...”
The bogeyman's corpse exploded. A hail of slime launched across the cell, drenching the three mages. Callum flinched as the hot slime went up his back, then covered his eyes with one hand.
“Nathaniel?”
“Yes, Callum?”
“Did you know it would do that?”
“No. Otherwise I'd have been standing outside the bloody door.”
Callum opened his eyes and looked at his colleagues. The three of them were covered from head to foot. Elizabeth dropped her carbine to the floor, and sighed.
“There are days when I wonder why we signed up for this. This is one of them.”
“Nathaniel, Clarence wants to see the three of you in...”
Daniel Rivers, an eighteen year old apprentice mage, rounded the doorway, and took in the sight that beheld him. The three agents of the Order of Britain turned as one to glare at the sandy-haired young man, who quailed under their gaze.
“Clarence said he wants to see you straight away,” he said.
The trio continued to glare at him, their eyes staring out from beneath a veneer of grey-green sludge.
“I'll tell him you need an hour.”
“Do that, Daniel.”
The young man disappeared back round the corner. And Elizabeth sighed.
“I need a bath.”
“We all do,” Callum replied.
“At least you don't have hair to wash.”
Callum ran his hand across the slime that covered his bald scalp.
“Trust me, that isn't a consolation.”
***
An hour or so later, the three agents of the Order of Britain walked into the Star Chamber of the Guild. The round table at the centre of the room was occupied by Clarence Somerby, the hugely portulent head of the Guild council. The fat man looked up as they entered, nodded, and turned back to the man sitting at his side.
The trio of agents took seats at the side of the chamber, and listened.
“You're sure about this?” Clarence asked.
“There is no doubt. Magic is at work in Britain once more. We've had readings up and down the country that show the field of void energy has expanded.”
“Do you have any clues as to the cause, Daltrey?”
The spectacled, thin-haired man at the table said nothing, but his eyes flicked momentarily to Callum.
“Oh, just say it,” the Dragon-Blood said. “You think
Midnight is called the witching hour for a reason. Midnight is when the fabric of reality thins, and gets a bit frayed. It's at that point that things start to come through.
Most people don't believe in the things that haunt the night. The Guild, however, takes the time to believe in things that exist, even if no-one else believes in them.
Like Bogeymen, for example.
The doors of the wardrobe snapped open, revealing the darkness within. Elizabeth sighted over Callum's shoulder, and fired. Callum felt the bullet whistle past his ear, and heard it thump into something inside the wardrobe. A deep growl, rumbled in the depths of the darkness and, in a fluid, insidious motion, the Bogeyman poured itself out onto the floor. It stood up to its full, seven foot height, and glared down at the swordsman.
“...Nathaniel?”
“Yes, Callum?”
“Can you seal the wardrobe, please?”
“Of course.”
Nathaniel held his hand out, palm up, and concentrated. A wall of golden flame leapt from the base of the wardrobe to the top. The Bogeyman looked over its shoulder, and seemed to shrink slightly.
“It's cut off from the void, Callum. Your turn!”
Callum grinned up at the creature, and swung his sword in a swift horizontal cut. The bogeyman's head flew from its body to fall to the floor, its body following suit.
Callum turned back to the two at the door as they walked into the cell.
“Well, that wasn't too bad...”
The bogeyman's corpse exploded. A hail of slime launched across the cell, drenching the three mages. Callum flinched as the hot slime went up his back, then covered his eyes with one hand.
“Nathaniel?”
“Yes, Callum?”
“Did you know it would do that?”
“No. Otherwise I'd have been standing outside the bloody door.”
Callum opened his eyes and looked at his colleagues. The three of them were covered from head to foot. Elizabeth dropped her carbine to the floor, and sighed.
“There are days when I wonder why we signed up for this. This is one of them.”
“Nathaniel, Clarence wants to see the three of you in...”
Daniel Rivers, an eighteen year old apprentice mage, rounded the doorway, and took in the sight that beheld him. The three agents of the Order of Britain turned as one to glare at the sandy-haired young man, who quailed under their gaze.
“Clarence said he wants to see you straight away,” he said.
The trio continued to glare at him, their eyes staring out from beneath a veneer of grey-green sludge.
“I'll tell him you need an hour.”
“Do that, Daniel.”
The young man disappeared back round the corner. And Elizabeth sighed.
“I need a bath.”
“We all do,” Callum replied.
“At least you don't have hair to wash.”
Callum ran his hand across the slime that covered his bald scalp.
“Trust me, that isn't a consolation.”
***
An hour or so later, the three agents of the Order of Britain walked into the Star Chamber of the Guild. The round table at the centre of the room was occupied by Clarence Somerby, the hugely portulent head of the Guild council. The fat man looked up as they entered, nodded, and turned back to the man sitting at his side.
The trio of agents took seats at the side of the chamber, and listened.
“You're sure about this?” Clarence asked.
“There is no doubt. Magic is at work in Britain once more. We've had readings up and down the country that show the field of void energy has expanded.”
“Do you have any clues as to the cause, Daltrey?”
The spectacled, thin-haired man at the table said nothing, but his eyes flicked momentarily to Callum.
“Oh, just say it,” the Dragon-Blood said. “You think
Similar Books
