by N. P. Martin
Benedict glanced down at me, a look of surprise on his face. "How did you know about that?"
"I’m running my own investigation into Iolas. What are the properties for?"
"We aren’t sure, but we think they may be for future blood farms."
"Blood farms? Those have been outlawed for a long time now. You’re saying the vampires here want to use humans as blood bags again?"
"Most likely, yes. We think Iolas and Constantine have come to some sort of power-sharing agreement, and between the two of them, they’ll run this entire country."
"But they already run the place," I said.
"Yes, but clearly not in the way they want to. If Iolas and Constantine have their way, they’ll make every human on this island their servant in some way. People will be herded up and treated like cattle. Obviously, we can’t allow that to happen."
I shook my head. "The Council allowed this to happen. If they had’ve come down harder on Iolas and Constantine in the past, instead of being afraid of them, things might not have gotten this far. Me ma would still be alive."
Benedict said nothing for a while as we continued walking around the park, until eventually he stopped and looked at me. "Look, I happen to agree with everything you just said. I also believe things have been allowed to escalate too far. The same thing happened in Luton with the Djinn. They were allowed to amass too much power and control, to the point where they basically took over the whole bloody town, treating the Untouched like their servants. The job we had sorting that out, and then trying to cover it all up from the media…" He trailed off as he shook his head. "I don’t want the same thing happening here. The Untouched do not need horrors inflicted on them by beings they didn’t even know existed in the first place. I’d hate to see this fine country come to ruin, wouldn’t you?"
"What do you think?"
"Well then, I would like to ask your help in assisting us with this problem."
"Why should I when you won’t even reveal the identity of me ma’s murderer?"
"If I tell you what you want to know you will fly in half-cocked and ruin this whole operation, and I can’t have that."
"So you’re saying it was Iolas who did it." It was a statement, not a question.
"I’m not saying that."
"You don’t have to."
He sighed. "Look, I’ll tell you this much: Iolas ordered your mother killed, but he didn’t do it himself."
I stood for a long time, in shock despite myself. I’d known all along it was Iolas, but to hear it confirmed suddenly made it seem more real, and more gutting. "Who’d he get to do it? His niece, Amelia?"
"I’m saying nothing more for the moment."
"I’m going to find out anyway."
"Hopefully, this operation will be over by then. After that, you can do what you want."
"Whatever I want? Does that include killing the person who killed me ma?"
He smiled somewhat grimly. "That’s up to you. If you help us now, we’re willing to look away later."
"Why would you need my help anyway? I’m sure you have all the resources you need."
"We do, except we don’t have access to Iolas or his home. You do."
"Not anymore."
Benedict frowned. "It was my understanding that you were working for Iolas."
"I was, but then he killed somebody in front of me this morning, someone he tried to say was me ma’s murderer, when in fact it was just some junky who happened to find a bracelet that belonged to me ma. Needless to say, I told Iolas to go fuck himself after that."
"I see." Benedict thought for a moment. "Not to worry, you can just go back and say that you reacted badly out of shock or something, and that you believe this Arthur person was the real killer."
I shook my head. "No, fuck that. I’m not going back to that house…"
"We need an inside man, and Iolas is far too careful and paranoid for us to get anyone in there."
"Why can’t you just storm the palace, so to speak, and arrest him or kill him or do whatever it is you’re planning on doing to him?"
"We do plan on storming the palace, as you put it, but we can’t yet."
"Why not?"
"Iolas is in possession of a very ancient book of death magic," he said. "We think he plans to use it to gain control of the Untouched en masse amongst other things. There’s a risk that if we make a move on him, he will take the book and go to ground, at which point he will probably use the magic in it and it will be late to do anything then. So we need to take the book out of the equation first, before we move on Iolas."
I was beginning to understand. "Which is were I come in. You want me to steal the book."
"Precisely."
I shook my head as I thought about it. "I can’t see me ever getting access to something so valuable to Iolas. What access I did have was limited at best."
"What about this Amelia you mentioned, Iolas’ niece? Would she have access?"
"Possibly, but…"
"But what?"
"I told her to fuck off as well."
Benedict smiled. "I’m sure she’ll forgive you. Just use your Irish charm."
I shook my head at him. "Wise up."
We had reached O’Connell Bridge now, which spanned part of the lake. Benedict stopped to lean on the stone arch as he gazed at the water below, which had barely a ripple on it. "We need your help here, Corvin. As I just explained, there is a lot at stake. I understand it is personal for you, but I’m asking you to look at the bigger picture as well, just until we can get Iolas into custody."
"You’re going to arrest him?"
"Of course. We’re not in the business of assassinations."
I doubted that, but anyway. "And what about Constantine? He got away with killing my father, you know?"
"Did he? I don’t know anything about that."
Once again, I doubted that. "Are you going to arrest him too?"
"I only have orders to arrest Iolas. What happens later…" He shrugged. "Who knows?"
I leaned against the bridge, facing away from him with my arms folded. "You don’t really expect Iolas just to come quietly, do you? He’ll fight you tooth and nail."
Benedict plucked a small pebble from atop the bridge and tossed it into the water. At the same time, near the left bank, a tiny water sprite dived into the reeds as if rattled by the sudden noise. "That’s up to him. We’ll be prepared for any eventuality."
"So you’ll kill him if you have to?"
"If he leaves us no choice, then…" He looked at me, and in his eyes I saw something, a look that somehow suggested he was on my side after all, and that his real plan was to take Iolas out completely. Right then, I knew Benedict represented my best chance to get revenge on Iolas, especially now that I knew for certain the elf was responsible for my mother’s death. With Benedict’s help, and all the resources he undoubtedly had at his disposal, I could finally get my mother the justice she deserved.
"All right," I said. "I’m in."
Benedict stood up straight and smiled. "That’s what I like to hear."
"To be clear, though, I don’t work for you or the Council. I’m doing this purely to get justice for me ma, that’s it."
"Of course," he said nodding. "It wouldn’t be like a Brit to tell an Irishman what to do, now would it?"
Laughing slightly, I shook my head at him. Despite who he worked for, I was beginning to like Benedict Bonneville. "So what now?" I asked him as we began to walk back toward to the Arch again.
"Now you go back to Iolas and try to locate that book."
"And then steal it."
"Yes."
I shook my head. "I must be nuts doing this. If Iolas suspects me at all, he’ll kill me."
Benedict gave me a friendly pat on the back as we approached the car. "I have faith in you, Corvin, as your mother did as well. Besides, if you fail, there’s always plan B."
"What’s plan B?"
Benedict smiled as he sat in the car and looked out at
me through the open window, at the same time handing me his card. "You don’t want to know. Just don’t fuck up."
And with that, he drove off, leaving me standing there holding his business card and wondering what the hell I’d just gotten myself into.
22
I went back to the bookshop after meeting Benedict, opening up for business for the next few hours. I’d been neglecting the place since I got back, which I knew my mother wouldn’t have been happy about if she was around, so I promised myself that once I had dealt with Iolas (and assuming I made it out alive) that I would dedicate some time to the bookshop, ordering in knew stock and finally getting around to employing someone to work in it. As attached as I was to the place, I had no desire to spend my days in it. Neither was it fair to expect Dalia to look after the place all the time, so I would have to find reliable help. Even the customers that came in after I opened up complained about the irregular opening hours. To appease them, I gave them generous discounts on their purchases, which seemed to keep them happy. It’s all about the customer service, as my mother used to say.
Just before closing time, Monty phoned me. "Awroight, bro," he said, sounding like he was back to his energetic and cheerful self after the previous night’s partying. "Oi 'ope oi didn’t interrupt yer masturbatin' or anythin'."
"Yeah, well I hope you didn’t use your dick to dial the phone," I said smiling as I sat behind the desk.
"It’s strangely satisfyin' whaen you finally git through. You shud try it sometime."
"I will, next time someone leaves me handcuffed to a bed."
Monty laughed. "Sure it’s al' a bit av craic at de end av de day, isn’t it? Somethin' ter tell de grandchildren about, am oi roight?"
"You’re going to tell your grandchildren about your sexual misadventures?"
"Sure why not? Me exploits 'ill make for perfect bedtime stories, ah've naw doubt."
I laughed. "You’re a sick man. Why are you phoning anyway?"
"Ter tell yer oi did sum diggin' into dat plane crash yer towl me aboyt," he said. "Or rather, de lack av a plane crash."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Oi mean there’s naw record av any plane ever crashin' t'airty years ago"
"What? Are you sure?"
"Positive, bro. Naw plane dat ever lef Oirlan' crashed anywhere in dat year, or de year after for dat matter. De only crash before dat wus foive years previously."
"Interesting," I said nodding.
"What’s dis aboyt anyway? Iolas?"
"Yeah, or rather his niece. This was helpful, Monty, thanks."
"Naw problem, bro."
"Listen, there’s a plan in motion to get Iolas finally. I may need your help at some stage."
"Yer nu me, bro, alwus willin' ter lend a hand. Jist gie me a call whaen yer nade me."
"Awesome, thanks Monty."
"Ah, an' by de way, yer shud check your YouTube channel."
"Why?"
"Oi may 'av used wan av your songs as a backin' track ter wan av me videos, an' guess waat? People are diggin' it. Oi sent dem al' ter your channel so yer shud 'av lots av new fans."
A wide smile crossed my face. "You didn’t have to do that, but thanks. I mean it."
Monty went silent for a second. "Anythin' for you, bro."
After I closed up the shop, I went to meet Dalia, taking the car into the busy city center and wishing I hadn’t when I had to negotiate all the bloody rush hour traffic. Dalia was in Suffolk Street, standing under the awning of a cafe, dressed in black as always, despite the suffocatingly warm weather. She was staring straight ahead as I approached, her dark eyes appearing not to notice the constant flow of people going up and down the street, some of whom gave her strange looks, as if she freaked people out a little. Not that she cared about that, mind you. Dalia had long since gone past the point of caring what people thought of her, especially Untouched.
"Hey," I said as I went and stood beside her. "She come out yet?"
Dalia continued staring at the doctor’s surgery across the road, out of which people were still coming and going. "Not yet," she said shaking her head slightly. "She won’t be long, though. It’s almost closing time."
I nodded as I leaned against the shutter of the now closed cafe. "You been here long?"
"Not long. How are things?"
"The plot has thickened. I’ve a lot to tell you."
She barely glanced around at me. "I’ve something to tell you too."
"Oh yeah? What?"
"When I’m done here."
Dalia continued staring across at the doctor’s surgery as more people filed out of it, some of whom were doctors who worked there, which meant the surgery would be closing shortly. As I stared across as well, I soon spotted a woman coming out the front door alone. She was in her late twenties, dressed in a navy trouser suit, her long dark hair tied up in a bun atop her head. As she turned around and I clocked her face, I almost shuttered, as I always did when I saw her, for she looked exactly like Dalia. Or at least, she looked like Dalia before the Fae took her. The woman across the road was a Stock, no more than a piece of old wood really, endowed with Fae magic to look and act like the person she was supposed to replace, which of course was Dalia. The Other Dalia had carried on the life Dalia had before she was taken, finishing med school and becoming a doctor. Dalia’s family—her parents and siblings—all thought the Other Dalia was the real thing. They had no idea they were basically conversing with a magically endowed stick. It took Dalia a long time to accept this other version of herself which now walked in her old shoes, so to speak. In the process, she ended up developing a creepy fascination with the Other Dalia, and she could often be found stalking her, watching from afar like some wildlife buff tracking an animal. I didn’t really understand Dalia’s fascination with the Other, but I thought perhaps that she liked to see what possibly could’ve become of her, had she not been taken by the Fae. I also think she was slightly envious of her Other, and the normal life she led.
The Other Dalia seemed to have maintained the same dark countenance that Dalia possessed, only according to Dalia, it was probably more severe, since Stocks almost always turned out to be somewhat joyless beings, as the they were really no more than a shadow of the person they were meant to replace, endowed with just enough magic to allow them to function properly and blend in unnoticed. Their sense of humanity didn’t go much deeper than that. Dalia’s Other lived alone in a nearby apartment. According to Dalia, her Other rarely went out except to work and visit the supermarket, where she apparently stocked up on alcohol mostly.
"Do you never get tired of seeing this…person?" I asked her as I stood beside her. "She’s not you, D. She’s just a fucking magic trick, an illusion."
"I know," Dalia said while she watched her Other move down the street, until she finally disappeared around a corner, probably heading for the carpark where she kept her small car while in work. "I keep expecting her to notice me. She never does."
"Frankly, I’m surprised you haven’t tried to introduce yourself yet."
Dalia shook her head at me as she spoke in an exaggeratedly cheerful voice. "Oh hey, I’m Dalia, the person you’re now pretending to be. How are you? Fancy a drink?"
"All right, I was just saying, I don’t know what you get out of this, torturing yourself like this."
"Who said anything about torturing? I’m fine with how things are. I’ve moved on."
"So why do you still insist on stalking your Other?"
She shrugged and shook her head. "Maybe I expect to see her break down some day, like a robot that just stops working."
"So what if she did? She’s fucking creepy anyway."
"Are you saying I’m creepy as well?"
"Of course, you’re the creepiest bitch, I know, D."
She punched me on the shoulder as a I smiled at her. "Fuck you, Chance."
I put my arm around her as I started directing her down the street. "You know I’d be lost without you," I said. "Plus, you
’re sexier than every other girl in this city."
"Even your elf girlfriend?"
"Yes, and she isn’t my girlfriend, not by a long shot."
"Trouble in paradise?"
I snorted. "You could say that. C’mon, I’ll get us a drink and tell you all about it."
We sat in one of the city center pubs while I sipped on a pint of Guinness and Dalia supped on some sort of tomato juice/vodka combo. I had just finished telling her about everything that had happened, from Iolas murdering Arthur Cartwright to my conversation with Benedict Bonneville and his plan to take down Iolas.
"So he wants you to steal this book of death magic?" she said.
"Yeah, somehow."
Dalia shook her head. "Sounds like a tall order."
"I know, but I may have an idea on that."
"Which is?"
"I’ll tell you when I’ve thought it out more. In the meantime, you said you had something to tell me."
"That’s right. Davey finished running his tests on the magic sample he collected from your mother’s body."
"Already? I thought it was going to take a few days."
"The magic was very strong apparently, which made tracing it easier." Dalia’s eyes drifted for a second as she stared at some guy at the other end of the pub.
"So," I said, clicking my fingers in front of her face. "Did he get a name or what?"
Dalia looked at me again, annoyed by my finger clicking. "Yes." Her attention drifted to the man across the pub again.
I shook my head in frustration. "Jesus, D, who the hell are you looking at?"
"No one, just a fellow Demifay."
Looking over, I saw a youngish guy with light blond hair staring rather lustfully over at us, or rather at Dalia. "Jesus, are you planning on hooking up with that guy up or something?"
Dalia smiled as she looked at me. "You’re not the only one who’s allowed to have sex you know."
I shook my head. "I didn’t say I was, but you were in the middle of telling me something there. Give me the name and I’ll leave you to it then."
