Chapter 8: Chapter Eight

As we descended the stone staircase, instead of getting darker and darker, to my surprise it became lighter. Soon I could see the earthen walls around me, and the outdoor string lights hastily nailed to the wall.

I let go of Sol’s hand, feeling foolish for ever having to hold it in the first place.

He glanced over his shoulder at me and cocked his head to one side. “Are you okay?”

The way he looked at me wasn’t any different from how he always looked at me, but I felt my body flush with heat.

Trying to act as normally as possible, I said, “Yeah, I’m good. So, is there a power generator down here or something?”

“Yeah, more than one actually. But come on, let me show you.”

Sol increased his pace, overtaking Sarah who bounded down the stone stairs on her little fox legs.

I wondered, was she a magical fox who could talk? Or a shifter, similar to Bernard?

“What are you?” I blurted out.

Sarah’s yellow-green eyes narrowed. “What are you?” she replied.

“Sorry, that was rude of me. I’m very new to this world. I meant to ask, are you some sort of shifter? Or another paranormal being I haven’t heard of yet?”

Sarah glanced at Sol, who shrugged helplessly, then turned back to me. “I’m a fox-shifter,” she replied simply.

I had a million more questions on the tip of my tongue, but Sarah’s attitude told me I’d get no more answers from her.

Sarah moved in closer, sniffing my legs and then said, “But seriously, what are you? At first, I didn’t notice the scent because of all the vampire stink, but there’s something not-human about you.”

Sol paused and turned to face us. “That’s what we’re here to find out. We’re looking for Morgan Jackson. Do you have any idea where he could be?”

The fur all along Sarah’s back bristled. “I keep well clear of that maniac. If anyone knows where he is though, it will be Cassa.”

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Sol replied. “Come on, pick up the pace. I don’t wanna be down here all night.”

Sarah and I increased our pace to match Sol’s, and we hurried down the staircase. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Sarah watching me still.

It was clear she was as curious about me as I was about her, and for a moment I was tempted to reveal what I knew about my ancestry in the hope that would prompt her to share more about fox shifters. But then I got that sense again that sharing this information wasn’t a good idea. The Ancile knew what I was, and I wanted to help them defeat Catherine if I could, but Sarah was an outsider. From what Sol had said earlier, not all paranormal beings were on the Ancile’s side, and Sarah didn’t exactly seem like the friendly type. Until I knew more and had had a chance to speak to Sol alone, I figured it was best I kept my mouth shut.

That wasn’t difficult, as I soon became swept up in our surroundings. As we descended the last few stairs, the Underground sprawled out in front of us, and my eyes grew wide as I tried to take everything in.

The light was dimmer than it was topside, and occasionally the string lights hanging from the earthen ceiling flickered, but it was still enough to illuminate rows upon rows of tents, caravans, and little stalls, like you might see in an outdoor market.

Grubby children ran about freely, and I caught the flash of iridescent wings as a humanoid figure, with shimmering skin and long lilac hair skipped past us.

The first few market stalls looked like completely normal ones, and sold fresh produce and other necessities, but as we weaved our way through the rows, the wears became stranger and stranger. It was like the specimen jars I’d seen in Lettie’s lab, only a hundred times more bizarre. There were body parts that were definitely not human, strange plants I’d never seen before, smoking cauldrons that gave of weird fumes, and more than a few creepy-looking leather-bound books, with titles written in strange languages I didn’t recognize.

We came to a T-junction in the row of stalls, and Sarah paused. “This is where I leave you,” she said. “But please, visit the Skulk soon, and bring news from your scientist. Things are getting desperate.”

“I’ll speak to my leader about it as soon as we’ve returned to H.Q,” Sol promised.

Sarah looked up at me and added, “I don’t know what you are, but you’d be wise to keep away from all vampires; especially ones like Lettice Williams.”

Before I could argue, Sarah bounded away, her bushy tail vanishing between canvas caravans as she slipped out of sight.

“What was all that about?” I asked Sol.

“Sarah’s Skulk has a history with Lettie. Her maker murdered many of Sarah’s ancestors.”

“Fuck. No wonder she hates her. But Lettie wasn’t involved, right?”

Sol shook his head. “Lettie wasn’t always the ally she is now.”

I don’t know why, but this shocked me. Yes, I knew Lettie was a vampire who sustained herself with blood, and in the back of my mind I was aware she’d probably killed people before she joined the Ancile, but I don’t know … I’d always seen her as one of the good guys. To learn she’d killed people Sarah descended from made my blood run cold. How would I feel if I learned Lettie had killed a Celestial I was descended from?

I felt bad for not being kinder to Sarah when I had the chance. Hoping to learn more about her and her kind, in case our paths ever crossed again, I asked Sol, “So, is Skulk the fox word for pack?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Each different species has their own term for a group of them, you know, like a Murder of Crows, and so on.”

I raised a brow. “There are crow shifters?”

Sol chuckled. “Remember what I told you? If it’s an animal you can think of, at least one person can transform into it. There are even shifters for species that have long since gone extinct, although those are incredibly rare. There hasn’t been a recorded case in centuries.”

Why was it whenever Sol answered one of my questions, it only caused a million more to spring to mind. I was glad the Ancile had such an extensive library. I wanted to learn everything there was.

“Oh yeah, like what?” I asked, as Sol led us down a right-hand turning, away from the direction Sarah had disappeared into.

“There’s a two-hundred-year-old, blind dragon shifter who lives at the London H.Q,” Sol said, like it was nothing out of the ordinary. “I don’t think he transforms anymore though.”

“A dragon?!” My voice came out as a high-pitched squeal, and a few occupants of the various tents and stalls glared at me.

Sol laughed again. “Yeah, a real dragon. Those are all extinct now too, though. I believe Murag, that’s the dragon shifter in London, is the only person left alive who knew them.”

“I feel like I’ve got so much to learn still,” I said, following Sol through the rows of tents and market stalls. “I know we need to focus on having my abilities unbound, and then there’s Catherine, but I’d still like to learn as much as I can.”

“I was the same when I first found out the paranormal world was real. Luckily there’s an extensive library at the H.Q, and you can always come to me, Jenn, and Lettie with your questions.”

With every day that passed, I was starting to feel more and more welcome in the Ancile, like I was part of it too. I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to devote my life to the order, but we had a long way to go before we came to that decision. We hadn’t even found Morgan yet.

Something Sol said stood out to me, and I asked, “You weren’t born in the Order then? Like Jenn was?”

Sol shook his head. “No. Bernard suspects I have supernatural ancestors, like you do, but until I was ten, I had no idea these things were real.”

Sol didn’t mention his parents, or how they’d reacted to finding out their son had superhuman abilities, and his voice held a tone of sadness that made me certain there was more to the story than Sol was currently willing to share.

I didn’t want to pry too much, but I also wanted him to know I was here for him if he needed me. He could trust me.

“That must have been difficult, discovering all this when they were only ten,” I said, keeping my tone gentle.

“It was a big shock, not least of all because it came on the back of my dad’s arrest.”

Sol didn’t elaborate, even though I was desperate to know more. It was clear from the way he spoke that his parents weren’t in the picture, but I never imagined it was because his father was in jail or something.

“I know that expression on your face, you’ve got a million questions,” Sol said with a chuckle.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a nosy cow or anything. I’m genuinely interested. Not just in the Order, but in you, Sol.”

Sol paused, giving me a soft smile. “I know, Roxie, and I want to tell you more. Just not right now, okay?”

I don’t know if it was his smile, or his insistence that he did want to tell me more, but something about the way Sol looked at me made my heart warm.

I smiled back. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Without another word, Sol marched on, turning another corner so that we were away from the vast array of market stalls, and approaching a darker area of the Underground.

Some sort of structure had been made from what looked like old furniture and shipping boxes, and as we neared, Sol slowed his pace.

“This is where the vampires of the Underground gather. As you might have guessed from Sarah’s behaviour, not everyone is a fan of them. But Cassa wants to keep the Underground open to all who’re willing to put their animosities aside.”

“That makes sense. It’s safer to live in groups, rather than out on your own. At least down here, everyone is away from humans who might hurt them, and there’s strength in numbers,” I said.

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Sol smiled. “Exactly, but it means everyone has to learn to co-exist, and for some species, that’s harder than others.”

Sol knocked on what looked like a repurposed wardrobe door, and a moment later, a woman in a long, red gown appeared. She had blond hair so pale it was almost white, and I could instantly tell by the sheen to her skin and her purple eyes that she was a vampire.

“Marguerite,” Sol said cordially.

Ah, so this was Lettie’s blood-sister.

Marguerite smiled, showing her fangs, and the sight of them put me on edge. I’d gotten used to being around Lettie, but something about her blood-sister was much more predatory.

“Sol, so good to see you.” Her gaze drifted from him to me and she studied me closely. A cold feeling washed over me, and I got the distinct impression I was being observed like a predator watching it’s prey. “And who’s this?”

Sol held up his hand before Marguerite could advance on me. “This is Roxie, and she’s under the Order’s protection. And even if she wasn’t, she’s friends with your sister. I know Lettie wouldn’t want you to harm her.”

The mention of Lettie seemed to calm Marguerite down, and she took a step backwards. This time when she smiled at me, she did her best to hide her fangs and appear friendly.

“Any friend of Lettie’s is a friend of mine,” she said, only a slight hint of bite to her tone. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Lettie sent some blood bags for you,” I said, holding up the medical case.

Marguerite’s eyes widened, and I caught a glimpse of her fangs once more, as she moved forwards, almost in a blur. She was so fast, she’d taken the medical box, and pulled out one of the blood bags before I’d even processed what was going on.

From a pocket in her dress, Marguerite produced a long, thin metal straw. She used it to pierce the blood bag like a kid might with a juice box and drank from it greedily.

She drained the blood bag completely, and threw it back into the box, and then reached for another.

“Oh, thank the gods. I’m starving. I try not to leave the Underground these days, and it’s been weeks since I’ve eaten anything that wasn’t rats.”

I supressed a shudder at the thought of Marguerite consuming the blood of vermin, and instead said, “As soon as Lettie knew we were coming, she asked us to bring you some food.”

“Thank you.” Marguerite took another sip from her second blood bag, the liquid inside staining her lips a deep, dark red. It would have actually made a really cute lipstick colour, you know, if it wasn’t blood!

“You’re welcome,” I said, trying to keep my tone even and not show any of the discomfort I felt.

I’d gotten so used to Lettie eating in secret, and her whole calm demeanour that I’d taken for granted that not all vampires were so nice.

It was no wonder Sarah and her people disliked them so much.

“We’re not just here as a takeout delivery service,” Sol interjected, causing Marguerite’s gaze to drift back to him. “We’re after information. Have you heard anything about an arcanist named Morgan Jackson?”

“No,” Marguerite said without even having to think about it. “I keep to myself down here. I have no idea who else might be hiding in the shadows.”

“I figured as much, but it can’t hurt to ask,” Sol replied with a shrug. “You can keep the medical case, and I’ll bring you some more blood the next time I visit.”

Marguerite smiled, once more showing her fangs, and said, “Yes, don’t be a stranger. And please, give my love to my dear sister.”

Her final statement was the only part of Marguerite’s words that sounded genuinely sincere, and I knew no matter what else the vampire had going on, she was loyal to her sister.

We left Marguerite with her blood bags, but rather than leaving the darker area of the Underground, Sol continued following the ramshackle buildings until we came to what looked like an old, abandoned vardo, like the traditional horse-drawn wagons used by British Romanichal Travellers as their home.

“I don’t think anyone else down here is going to know where Morgan is. Cassa is out best bet,” Sol said, as he led the way up the wooden stairs to the wagon’s door.

“And who exactly is Cassa?” I asked, she’d been mentioned a few times now, but no one had explained exactly what role this woman had in the Underground.

As if she’d heard us approaching, the door to the wagon opened, and we were faced with the oldest woman I’d ever seen. She looked more like a skeleton than a person, with a completely bald head, and her clothes hanging off her bony frame.

“I’ve been expecting you,” she said simply, then ushered us into her wagon.

The inside was in a better state than the outside, and was decorated like some grandma’s chintzy old tea shop or something. There was a large velvet armchair by the fire, next to which sat a basket of knitting. Over the fire itself hung a copper tea kettle.

A small distance away was a two-seater sofa that matched the armchair. Cassa gestured for me and Sol to sit on it, and so we did as we were told, our bodies pressed so closely together than our knees brushed.

Cassa busied herself with the copper tea kettle, taking it down from the metal rack over the fire using a thick pair of bright pink oven gloves. She bustled over to a small kitchenette and placed the kettle down on what I assumed was a heat-proof plate, and then reached into an overhead cupboard.

She pulled out three teacups of the most beautiful, delicate fine China. It was the sort of tea set you’d expect to find in a stately home, not some wizened old woman’s caravan.

Cassa reached for a jar of what might have been tea leaves, although the ingredients inside were much more brightly coloured than the tea I was used to. Out of a nearby drawer she took out a silver teaspoon, and three small tea infusers. She spooned a generous helping of the leaf mixture into each infuser, and then placed them in the cups, before adding steaming water from the kettle.

As the herbal mixture infused, the room was ingulfed in a pleasant aroma. It was like tea mixed with roses, and a hint of sweetness too, like those old sweetshops my grandma used to take me to when I was little.

“My own special brew,” Cassa said proudly, as she laid the cups and saucers onto a wooden tray, and then carried them over.

“Please, let me,” Sol said, standing from the sofa and rushing to help the old woman.

She batted him away, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t need any help, young man.” The tone of her voice suggested she was deeply offended by the notion that she couldn’t even manage a simple tea tray.

I was half-amused, half-concerned. Honestly, I did wonder how she was strong enough to carry the tray. I could see her bones quite clearly, and her translucent, papery skin stretched over them like it was about to tear at any moment. But at the same time, I knew looks could often be deceiving, and as Cassa hadn’t actually asked for Sol’s help, it was likely she didn’t need it.

She laid the tray down on the table, picked up a cup and saucer for herself, and then settled back into her seat by the fireplace.

Sol dropped down onto the sofa next to me, and Cassa watched us closely.

“It’s rude not to drink the refreshments your host provides,” she barked at us.

Sol and I moved into action, almost bumping elbows as we both reached for a cup and saucer. The liquid within the cup was warm, fragrant, and tinted slightly pink. I had no idea if it was just tea, or something more, but I felt compelled to drink it either way.

I bought the cup to my lips, took a sip, and instantly felt at ease, more than I had in months.

Sol sipped his tea too, and it seemed to relax him also. His dark, tanned skin flushed a healthy red, and his eyes dilated slightly, so his pupils grew huge.

“We’re looking for Morgan Jackson,” he said, without preamble.

“I know why you’re here,” Cassa replied. She sipped her own tea and watched us closely. “I’ve been following you both for some time.”

“Following us?” I asked, but there was no alarm in my voice. Somewhere deep inside me I knew I should be weirded out that this ancient old woman had just confessed to following Sol and I, but right now, with the warm teacup in my hands, everything felt right with the world.

In fact, I couldn’t quite remember why we were even here. Were we simply paying Cassa a visit to catch up with her? Who was this Morgan Jackson Sol had mentioned?

In her chair, Cassa chuckled quietly to herself. “Oh yes, I know all about you, Fortium,” she said, her gaze never leaving Sol’s. For a moment, there was almost complete silence apart from the crackling of the fire, as Cassa and Sol stared at each other intently, neither of them blinking.

I wondered what was she seeing in him that everyone else couldn’t.

She nodded, as if something had been confirmed in her mind, and then Cassa’s gaze slowly drifted to me. I felt paralyzed in place, and completely laid bare. Cassa’s eyes were a milky white colour that made me wonder if she could even see at all, but regardless of her sight, I knew distinctly that she was staring straight into my soul.

Everything I ever was, and everything I could ever be spread out before her.

A small smile crept over Cassa’s lips. “And the Angelus, we’ve waited a long time for you.”

As the words left Cassa’s mouth, suddenly my mind was assaulted by images, similar to what I’d seen when I touched Sol’s sword earlier. I saw that same woman from my vision before, the Celestial that I so closely resembled. Then I saw myself, as a child, happy and carefree. Next, memories of the night I’d seen Catherine kill Pierre Beauford flashed though my mind, and I shuddered all over, recoiling from the terrible recollection. Thankfully, it changed almost as quickly as it appeared, instead showing me surrounded by a bright, golden light. As the light faded, I saw myself standing at crossroads. In one direction lay a ruined city, burning to the ground. In the opposite direction was the Ancile H.Q, only it looked differently than what it did in reality. It seemed warmer, and more homely somehow.

I wanted to race to the H.Q, desperate to find Sol, Lettie and Jenn, but something held me back, keeping me rooted to the spot.

“Roxie,” a voice I vaguely recognized whispered on the wind. “Roxie,” Catherine called out to me.

 

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