Milc/C.J. Milnes
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Chapter 79 - Not really a library
🕑 Added 2025-08-19 20:38:47 +0000 UTC“Mr. B, I hope you have an explanation for this!” snapped a feminine voice from behind me. As I spun, dropping into the combat stance known as Using-A-French-Toilet-With-Wrath, feet spread and knees bent at almost ninety degrees, I took in my new surroundings.
The walls were dank stone, grey and streaked with green. The steady trickle of water from somewhere above collected in shallow channels that lined the walls and dribbled away into pitch black holes in the bottom of one corner. The floor was lined with smooth flags, and a single doorway led out into equally gloomy tunnels. In which a woman stood holding a crude torch that sputtered as coils of grey smoke rose to the ceiling.
“Ag! Good to see you again! How long have you been down here this time?” Bulldo asked jovially as he shook out his hands. “Casting behind my back is always a nuisance.”
“Six weeks. Answer my bloody question, Bulldo. This facility is only for emergencies.” She crossed her arms, the dangly sleeves of her grey robes swinging back and forth. Her green eyes narrowed into an impressively fierce glare, the stern effect of which was spoiled when she suddenly pouted like a teenager having their phone taken away. “You know it’s naughty!” I straightened back up. This woman did not seem like a threat, but I was still uneasy due to having been teleported god-know-where without my consent.
“I’ve got a question. How do you cast spells without saying the words?” I interrupted.
“And who in Silentium’s name is this?” she squeaked, seeming to notice me for the first time.
“He’s a Deeber too. We need to use the official portal this time. My signature will have been marked,” Bulldo replied for me.
“What’s a Deeber and what bloody signature?” I growled. The oppressive feeling of not knowing how many tons of rock were hanging over my head was not improving my mood.
“Oh! He’s a Deeber who doesn’t know he’s a Deeber! You! Spill or I’ll leave you down here in the dark for a few weeks!” She pointed an accusing finger at Bulldo.
“He’s a new associate from out of town, so you can drop the act. That doesn’t matter. Look, Aggie, baby, how about next time they let you out on a night we blow up the town? Dinner at Jumble Point, drinks and dancing at the Starry Sky? What do you say?”
“I had a drink last time I was up top. I won’t be back for another month or two. But drinks sound good. Any chance you want to make a little donation right now to keep my thirst down?” She suddenly seemed predatory despite no change in her demeanour.
“You know it takes it out of me. Look, I’ll pop back in a few days, ok? You can give me a suck then.”
“Is this really the time to be arranging that kind of thing?” I asked.
“Not him. He doesn’t smell right. Not a human, so I wonder what it is?” Aggie flowed forward, holding the torch up to illuminate me. She moved like a liquid over glass, efficient and graceful.
“Speculator Visum!” I muttered as I channeled the mana into the eye sigil.
Agatha De Bris
Ancient Vampire
Level N/A
STR ??? AGI ??? MAG ??? ARM ???
“A bloody vampire!” I squawked as I backed away.
“Not so bloody at the moment. You aren’t a bigot, are you? Vitalists are such bores,” she said softly, peering at me and sniffing. “Hmm. One of his. And something else. Been a while since… that scent reminds me of… damn, it was what, four hundred years ago? Over in Stonedaggers. Are you a Salamander?”
“No, I’m not a bloody amphibian!”
“Oh, dragon then. Nice to meet you, scaly. Love the disguise, picking such a mundane-looking mortal shows you aren’t stupid! Been a while since one of your lot was stupid enough to wander into the city. What’s he doing here?” The last part was aimed at Bulldo as though I’d been dismissed from her thoughts.
“Oi! This was my original human form on Earth!” I snapped.
“My sympathies to your partners. Bulldo, why have you brought a dragon into the Library?”
“A spot of bother with the Q’s,” he said sheepishly. “No big deal, though! We can use the blood portal to get out, and they won’t have tracked me to the safe room!”
“Quaestors. You used it to escape the Quaestors. Now what interest would they have in this lizard?” she asked sternly.
“He portaled in without registering and completing form N93-7.”
“Unregistered teleportation… Silly boy. But it’s hardly a hanging offence. A few weeks in the Cells of Correction and a bunch of paperwork. No big deal. So once again: spill.”
“Carrying stuff for the boss. That’s all you need to know. We pay blood money for your services, and I needed to make use of one of them,” he said firmly.
“Fine, fine! You know it’s a little dull down here most of the time, and the others tend to hibernate between feeding and jobs. Come on then. Welcome to the Silent Library, dragon.”
She led us down quiet tunnels. Side rooms might contain a sarcophagus or a raised stone table. Some of the tables had bodies on them, laid out in perfect stillness with their arms crossed over their chests in the approved vampiric repose.
“I thought that was from the movies,” I muttered. Then explained vampiric stereotypes as they both looked at me in confusion.
“Oh, a few like to hang from the ceiling. Gander glues himself to the wall in a blood cocoon when he hibernates. We don’t let him out very often; he’s a little odd and prone to getting blood drunk and causing a ruckus. Nice chap, though, when he’s sober. Archimalt turned him, so he’s a fourth generation, and he’s seen it all. Got some great stories about the Brood Wars a couple of thousand years ago.”
“How is there a nest of vampires under the city?” I asked. “Surely the humans hunt you down?”
“Of course they do, my dear. But we have friends in low places. Not as low as the Library, but all the worst people make use of our services. Blood magic has its advantages, and a pint of the good stuff can go a long way.”
She led us into another chamber, which, unlike where we arrived and most of the passageways we’d been led through, was clean and dry. The walls were smooth, and the stone looked to be polished. It reflected the dancing flames of the torch. In the centre stood a pair of short columns, perhaps waist high. Agatha glided over to a boxy object on the wall and pulled the door open. A light shone out, and she pulled a rack out from which hung large vials of red liquid.
“Hmm. O negative today, I think. Superior flavour and a subtle aroma combined with a potent but subtle cast. Perfect! Honestly, I’m glad you showed up, Bulldo. I’ll take you up on your offer next time I’m on the surface.” She pulled a vial out and unstoppered it, taking a long sniff. “Ah, that’s the stuff. You two in the middle, if you don’t mind.”
Bulldo went to stand between the short pillars, and Agatha herded me to join him. I noticed the pillars were stained a dull rusty colour, the explanation of which soon became clear. Agatha poured a quarter of the vial onto each column and then chugged the rest in one gulp.
“Okay, where do you wanna go?” she slurred.
“The compound, please, Aggie. You’re a star.”
“Next time you bring a follower of that god into the Library, I’m going to turn you into a flesh puppet and make you kill you’re family and friends!”
She held out her hands, and blood seeped from under her fingernails, swirling out to form arcane glyphs in the air around us. It formed a globe of constantly moving lines that contracted rapidly. Just as I was about to wish I’d worn a wetsuit today, the ball of blood vanished, and the familiar portal room in the Dalgliesh estate replaced the dark chamber deep underground.
“Kenny, need to get Mrs. Sanderson onto the Q’s. New guy didn’t fill in the forms,” Bulldo said to the empty air.
“He’s got tougher. A lot tougher.” The words were whispered into my ear. “Wish I’d known he was a dragon before. They’re always fun to fight.”
“Does everyone know what I am now? What’s the point of the bloody disguise?” I said, carefully controlling my instinct to warrant a towel be summoned. God, I hated these bloody ninjas.
“Come on, Bob. Let’s go find the boss.”
Mr. Dalgliesh was in his study. He was sitting behind his giant desk, flipping documents and drinking whisky like it was water. His feet dangled a few inches off the ground in the adult-sized chair.
“So soon?” He looked up briefly before returning to his documents. “How much have you got?”
“Nice to see you too.”
“I’ll go pay Mrs. Sanderson a visit and help her with the paperwork. Shout if you need me. Boss.” Bulldo nodded his head to his overlord and backed away into the plush corridor outside.
“I’m afraid I’m rather busy at the moment. How much Arkendrite have you got?” He didn’t bother looking up at me as he spoke, and my blood began to heat up. The tiny, psychotic pipsqueak was not showing the dragon the respect such a beast deserved.
“Another million's worth,” I ground out through clenched teeth. He looked up at my tone and smiled. He leaned back and set his quill to one side.
“There he is! You know, you could be rather more use than you are at the moment.”
“I just want to get my gold.” He raised one hand up, palm facing me.
“Let me finish. You’re a member of the court. We’ve got a few nobles in our pocket, other than you.” His assumption that I was in his pocket was worryingly accurate. Maybe I should have just dealt with the spies from the Armaments Guild? “But one more is always useful. Viscount Von Kolbens, another friend of mine, has some legislation he’d like to pass. Nothing exciting, dock taxes at the port, transit fees, that kind of thing. But potentially highly profitable. As gentry, you only get half a vote, but there is a lot of interest around the dragon baronet.”
“I thought shapeshifters weren’t allowed anywhere near the court?”
“You won’t be allowed near the Emperor, and certain precautions will be taken, mainly in the form of Kenny’s counterparts among the nobles being present. But you have a right to attend Court and I’d be willing to reward you handsomely.”
This was the problem with rich gangsters. My mission to restore my karma and not get another downgrade was clashing with the little monster in my mind that had perked up at the word ‘handsomely’.
“How much?” I asked, unable to stop myself. I was going to have to help so many old ladies over the road.
“A hundred grand if the law passes. You’ll have to schmooze the undecideds. Ah, thanks, Kenny.” A small pouch of holding had appeared on the desk, which Dalgliesh weighed in his hands for a moment, then tossed to me. I snatched it out of the air and stuck a finger in the opening. One point one million gold.
“How about it, Bob? Want to go to a ball?”
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Andrew G
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