Corrigan Magic (Corrigan: Blood Destiny Book 2) (6 page)

Two days later, I found myself sitting in a small bar over-looking the Thames.  I had possessed no desire to appear at the Arch-Mage’s door with my cap in hand yet again.  If the damn vampires could arrange to meet on neutral ground then so could the damn mages, hence my now less than salubrious surroundings.  Considering how swiftly we’d dealt with the lubber fiends, I felt it was the least the Arch-Mage could manage in return.  I had to admit to myself that, if I were being honest, all this political shuffling was becoming incredibly tiresome.  It was far more fun to be lower down the hierarchy and see some real action.  Talking things out was dull, even if it was necessary. 

I smiled at the scantily clad nymph who deposited two drinks in front of us.  She simpered, two high points of colour appearing in her cheeks.  As soon as she’d departed back in the direction of the bar, however, my smile was quickly replaced.  “It’s been several days,” I reminded the Arch-Mage.  “I did as you asked and cleared out your outpost.  Or rather huge great bloody castle.  It was considerably larger than you led me to expect.  Quid pro quo.  Tell me what progress you’ve made with the blood.  Have you found the source of the infection yet?”

He leaned back in his chair and raised his eyebrows.  “Using spells is a far finer art than dealing with a minor Otherworld infestation.”

I had to bite my tongue.  To bring up the fact that I’d engaged in delicate negotiations with the lubber fiends in order to achieve the desired outcome would have simply made it seem as if I were protesting too much.  “That’s as may be,” I told him coolly, “but I need to know what you’ve discovered.”

He clicked his tongue.  “Dear boy, you’re far too impatient.  I was under the impression that you had the disease under control.”

“No-one else has sickened,” I agreed.  “And our talented medical team is bringing down the fevers of those who remain ill.  But that doesn’t mean it’s still not a serious matter.”

“Of course, of course.  One wouldn’t it want it to breach into London, now, would one?”

I stared at him, wondering whether he was being serious by suggesting I should only worry about it when the Brethren was in danger or if he was merely goading me.  “Tell me,”  I insisted.

He sipped at his drink, making a show of savouring the taste.  “Wales.”

I gritted my teeth.  “Where in Wales?”

“As I said, it’s not an easy feat to pull off.  Isolating the individual cells and tracing their origin isn’t like looking for a lost wallet.”

“Spare me the histrionics.  Where?”

“Cadair Idris.  It’s a…”

“Mountain.”  I frowned.  “I know.  Home of Idris the Giant.”

“You know your history.”

Despite the progress we’d made in our relationship, he still seemed to think I was nothing more than an uneducated animal.  I let it slide, however.  “Thank you,” I said stiffly.

“I could have told you all this over the phone, you know.”

“It’s not the only matter I wanted to discuss.”

A spark lit his eyes.  “Oh yes?”

“I met with a representative from the vampires yesterday,” I told him.

The Arch-Mage’s lip curled.  “Disgusting creatures.  Why would you waste your time?”

“They’re not without power.  Knowing what they’re up to, as well as strengthening ties with them, can only help the Brethren.”

“I see.  And how do you plan to do this?”

“We are going to meet four times a year.  It’ll be a fairly relaxed gathering but I’m excited to see what comes of it.  I wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t think we’re plotting against you or anything like that.”

He put down his drink.  The Arch-Mage had a better poker face than Aubrey but I could still sense I had his unrivalled attention.  When he finally did speak, his voice was dangerously low.  It was all I could do to keep from grinning.  “You would meet with those things behind our backs?  Discuss Otherworld matters and not invite us to the table?”

I chuckled.  “We’re hardly going to change the world over a few drinks.  It’s merely an opportunity to perhaps improve both our situations.”

“I will not stand for this.”

“It’s a done deal.  You cannot presume to tell us who we can or cannot meet.”

“If you do this…”

I made a show of backing down, holding up my palms and looking as innocent as I could manage.  “I’m not trying to offend or upset you.  Is there some way I can make you feel less threatened about what we’re doing?”

For a moment, he gazed at me with barely controlled rage.  Then his features smoothed over, returning his demeanour to one of an avuncular, friendly chap.  Neat trick.  “Invite us along.”

I blinked in innocence.  “Really?  But you dislike the vampires.  What was it you called them?  Disgusting creatures?”

“I don’t particularly like you either, Lord Corrigan, but we manage.”

“Well, I said, hedging slightly, “I can talk to them and see what they say…”

“Do more than that,” he snapped.  “I insist that representatives from the Ministry at present when you have these … gatherings.”

“You’re not giving me much choice.”

“I’m not trying to.”

I gestured to indicate I would do my best.  Inwardly, of course, I was exulting.  That had been much easier than I’d expected. 

The Arch-Mage dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief.  Realising he was about to stand up and make his excuses to leave, I knitted my hands together and placed them behind my head, sending him an arched look.  My stomach, unfortunately, was tightening.  “There’s one other thing.”

There was a flash of irritation.  “Really?  What now?”

“You mentioned at the ball that you were aware of my rogue situation.  You also told me to let you know if I required any help in … locating her.”

His eyes glinted.  “So I did.  Are you asking for my help now?”

I glanced away.  “I suppose I am.”

“The thing is, Lord Corrigan,” he said, sucking in breath through his teeth, “you already declined my offer.  Upon further reflection, I feel it would be unwise for us to involve ourselves in shifter politics.  Besides, it’s just one little girl.  I’m sure you’ll locate her sooner or later.”

I wondered what Mack would say if she knew she was being described as just a ‘little girl’.  I tried not to let my relief at his refusal show on my face.  I knew he was just flexing his metaphorical muscles after my news about meeting the vampires, but the sad truth was that it suited me.  There was just too much potential for things to go wrong if the mages got involved.  She could kill one of them.  She was certainly strong enough.  And if they took revenge … I repressed a shudder.  I could explain to the high ranking Brethren members that I had asked for help as I’d promised.  They’d disseminate the information that the Ministry had refused to everyone else further down the line.  It would satisfy the dissenters for now.  Then, as soon as this disease business was put to rest, I’d find her myself.  I’d deal with her publicly to suit Brethren expectations, then privately to suit myself later.

* * *

“There are three routes up the mountain,” Gwyn, a lanky looking werefox told me.  “The fastest one is the Fox’s Path.”

I couldn’t help quirking up an eyebrow at that.  He laughed nervously.  As a member of one of the rural Welsh Packs, he was patently unused to having to deal with the Brethren Lord Alpha.  “Nothing to do with me, I promise,” he said.

“A distant ancestor?”

“My father likes to think so.  It’s a nice idea that it’s named after a group of wily werefoxes.  I think it’s more to do with the humans in the area than us though.  It is pretty steep.  You have to be quite nimble to reach to the top.”  He cleared his throat.  “I mean, my Lord, obviously you are nimble.  But the humans…”

“I understand what you meant,” I said, putting him out of his misery.  “And you say that as far as you’re aware the last time one of us climbed to the summit was eight weeks ago?”

He nodded.  “An older shifter from Somerset.  He was very friendly.”  He chewed on his lip.  “I heard he died.”

My mouth tightened.  “He did.”

“It would be my honour to accompany you, my Lord.”

“No, thank you.”  My tone was firm.  If the disease did originate here, I wasn’t going to let anyone else endanger their health.  It was only because the others seemed to be recovering that Staines hadn’t put up too much of a fight about me coming here.  He’d still grumbled about it but I’d pointed out that I was young and healthy.  Looking after the Pack was my job and if that meant a bit of a fever and few days feeling off-colour, then it was a small price to pay.  At least whatever medicine Doctor Higgins had been experimenting with was working.

I said my farewells to the nervy werefox and began tramping upwards.  The path was well kept and initially fairly easy to traverse.  Despite my enhanced physical skills, I knew it would only get tougher, however, so I’d elected to bring nothing with me other than some empty sample bags.  I had no idea what I’d find.  It was a disease after all, not something I could simply fight.  I might not even find anything to put in the bags.  Knowing how the disease started by investigating its source would help us in the future though.  I had to do what I could.

Thanks to the cold at this time of year, there were few other souls around.  On the lower reaches of the mountain, I spotted one or two small groups.  Fortunately, it was clear they weren’t planning to make their way to the summit.  The poor weather worked in my favour because I knew I’d require time to check every aspect of the path.  It would be important not to miss anything crucial.  Darkness would fall soon enough.  My werepanther eyesight was often more reliable at night than during the day.  Of course, it was even better when I actually shifted - and I couldn’t do that if there was a danger of humans being around.

The mountain slopes were definitely pretty.  There was an absence of any flowers but the different shades of green, along with the crisp fresh air, definitely lightened my spirits.  I started to whistle to myself, almost enjoying the walk.  When the sun began to dip, and the sky became streaked with orange and red and purple before finally dimming into dark, I paused to turn and take it all in.  It reminded me of Cornwall in a way.  The area was rural enough that the stars were bright beacons gleaming their own path across the heavens.  I’d spent most of my life in the city but the more often I came out to the countryside, the more I was learning to appreciate it.  The moment I caught the whiff of rotting flesh, however, my mood changed. 

I estimated I wasn’t far away from the mountain-top.  The smell was faint and leading away from the path itself.  I twisted my head round quickly, double checking there were definitely no humans around, then followed my nose.  From time to time, the smell would dissipate away.  Then a slight breeze would bring it back, causing the hackles on my skin to rise up.  When I rounded a rocky bluff, however, it became considerably stronger.  I knew from the depth and scale of the rot that whatever I was being led towards wasn’t recent.  The first corpse also confirmed it.

A dead body never brought happy, shiny feelings.  This one was no different.  I’d seen my fair share – and been responsible for my fair share too – but I could still feel oily nausea rising up in my stomach.  It didn’t even particularly help that the corpse was that of a less than friendly Otherworld race.  Let’s face it, the creature in front of me was once known as a ‘hound of hell’.

Idris the giant, the mountain’s namesake, had once shared this land with Gwyn ap Nudd, a warrior of legendary abilities.  Both were long since gone, becoming little more than hazy stories whose truths were lost in the mists of time.  It was difficult to wipe out all traces of them, however.  Gwyn ap Nudd himself may have been long since laid to rest but the descendants of his dog pack, Cwn Annwn, remained.  They were smarter than the average dog and knew enough to stay well out of the path of humans.  In fact, it had been a long time since I’d heard of even any Otherworlder having contact with them.  There had been no doubt that they still existed though.  The evidence was in front of my eyes.

I knelt down, running my hands through the dog’s shaggy coat.  Even dead, it was a monstrous size.  It was difficult to tell, to be honest, how long it had been here.  The weather was cold enough that its body could have been preserved like this for some time.  Its eyeballs were gone, long since pecked by some scavenging bird probably thrilled at such an easy snack.  What was more concerning was the fact that the rest of the body remained untouched.  There was no sign of trauma and it didn’t look particularly old, as far as I could tell.  I gently parted the fur along the beast’s lower haunches and checked its skin.  A telltale red remained there.  I closed my eyes briefly.  I was betting that any samples I took would also indicate liver damage and kidney failure. 

Taking care not to disturb the remains too much, I made the necessary scrapings, pocketing the results.  I wanted to lay the corpse to rest properly but the ground was too hard to dig and any fire would draw too much attention.  I left it for now, venturing further up.

The next body I came to was another Cwn Annwn.  Again, it appeared to have succumbed to the same disease that had afflicted the Somerset Pack.  This body, however, looked somewhat more decomposed than the first.  I was about to examine it when another one caught my eye.  Then another and another.  The whole mountainside was littered with corpses.

With a heavy heart, I continued upwards, keeping going until it appeared that there were no more to be seen.  The very last one was lying at the mouth of a small cave.  Not only was there little left beyond a cluster of bones, I also noticed something else far worse.  Right in front of it were three other little skeletons.  Little because they had been nothing more than puppies.  From what I knew of the Cwn Annwn, they followed the natural cycle of the year, giving birth in late spring.  From the size of the bodies and the state of them, this little family had died first.  With each successive illness, the dogs had moved further and further down the mountain, instinct telling them to get as far away as possible.  Whatever they’d done and wherever they’d gone, it hadn’t been enough.

If any were still alive, they’d be staying well clear of me.  My scent would immediately suggest I was a dangerous predator.  It was imperative I discover whether any of the dogs had survived.  With no phone signal, I had little choice but to use Staines as a go-between.  He wouldn’t be happy.

It’s me.

He answered almost immediately
.  Who else would it be?

I didn’t bother responding to his dry sarcasm. 
I need you to contact the Arch-Mage.  Get him to scan Cadair Idris for signs of life.  Anything bigger than a sheep.

What aren’t you telling me, my Lord?

Just do it.

The wizard refused our last request,
he pointed out
.

That was different. 
Or so I hoped anyway. 
Tell him that he’s going to want to help us out with this.  If he loses us as allies, then he’s stuck between the psychopathic vampires and the nutty faeries.  He needs us as much as we need him.

I could almost feel Staines’ own panic ripple through to my own body. 
My Lord, why would he lose us as allies?  You’ve put too much effort into diplomacy to break things off with them now.

How could I explain to him that my discovery of the corpses could indicate that such a loss might not be by choice? 
I’m going to stay up here until he completes the scan,
I sent back simply. 
Perhaps that’ll encourage him to hurry.

*

I checked in with Staines every ten minutes because, of course, he couldn’t contact me with the Voice, I could only contact him.  It was a shifter failing I often bemoaned.  It had be to bloody annoying for him to have me appearing in his head every ten minutes.  Still, it was a surprisingly short amount of time before I received my answer.  I had to remind myself that the Arch-Mage wasn’t stupid.  He probably grasped more about the situation than Staines actually did.  Because if Staines was thinking what I was, he’d have charged over here and would already be attempting to drag me back down.

The Arch-Mage informed me that this is the last favour he is willing to do us.  He was muttering something about his people being upset again that he was pandering to the furries.  He was whining about some trouble up in Inverness as well.  Seemed to intimate that it was all our fault.  I can’t think why.  There’s no pack in Inverness and I’ve double checked with everyone nearby.  None of ours have been near there for months. Stupid magician. Thinks he’s a bloody god, lording it over the rest of us.  The next time he needs our help he’ll change his tune quickly enough. 

I pinched the bridge of my nose.  I really didn’t need to deal with petty squabbles between us and the Ministry.  Not right now.

Just tell me, Staines.

He sighed dramatically. 
One, my Lord.  There’s only one life form larger than a sheep up on that damn hill. 
He paused. 
Hold on.  Aren’t those hell hounds supposed to live there?

I inhaled deeply, not answering him.  My suspicions were correct.  The disease that had attacked the Somerset Pack had been here first.  And it had wiped out an entire species.  The Cwnn Annwn were extinct.  I broke off the connection with Staines and sought out Doctor Higgins instead.  Time of night be damned.

Doctor, how are things going in Somerset?

He took a moment to respond but, when he did, he didn’t sound as if I’d just woken him up.  He didn’t sound happy either though. 
Funny you should ask, my Lord.
 
The others who were also sick, who I thought were getting better, have taken a turn for the worse.

My stomach sank. 
In what way?

Um, well, there are some signs of jaundice.

You mean liver failure.

Not necessarily.  It could be symptomatic of any manner of complication.

I want you to send notification the second there is any change in their condition.  No matter what it is.

Yes, my Lord.  They’re calling for me.  I’d better…

Go,
I growled.

I stood frozen, letting the wind whip round me as I surveyed the open graveyard.  The Cwnn Awnn hadn’t had doctors or laboratories on their side.  And no-one new had been infected since just before I’d first learned of the disease.  The contagion might be dying out naturally.  I lifted my eyes to the heavens and prayed I was right. 

It took some time to deal with all the bodies.  The only thing to be thankful for was that the small cave which had once provided a safe home for the dogs, would now provide a safe place for their final rest.  One by one, I brought them up, laying them gently down next to each other.  When every single one was there, I used the loose stones lying around to shore up the entrance and ensure it would be safe from either scavengers or future prying eyes.  Then I stood back, bowed my head and said a small prayer.  The Cwnn Annwn, had they known of my actions, probably wouldn’t have thanked me.  Shifters had never been their friends.  But it still felt like the right thing to do.  Either way, it was very late by the time I started heading back down the slope.  I was trying to keep my spirits up but I couldn’t prevent the swirl of worried despondency every time I thought of the disease and the potential disaster it could create.  It was for that reason that when I heard a faint buzz appear in my head and a familiar voice breathe my name, that I was so surprised I tripped over a clump of grass and went flying.

Corrigan.

What the fuck…?  I knew it was Mack.  By now I’d know her voice anywhere.  I couldn’t believe that she was telepathically communicating with me though.  It was meant to be impossible.  So impossible in fact that I took a moment to glance and make sure she wasn’t actually standing in front of me again.  I knew how she felt about me.  She may have odd flickers of desire and lust but she really didn’t like me very much. If she were able to use the Voice – and I still couldn’t see how she could – she’d only get in touch with me if it were a real emergency.  The only sane thought I had before I responded was that I couldn’t let her hear how shocked I was.

Kitten. 
I felt, rather than heard, her yelp - and more dread snaked through me. 
What’s the problem? 
My heart was hammering in my chest for more reasons than one.

Problem?
Her Voice was remarkably composed.  Didn’t she realise how momentous this was?  The Voice hadn’t deserted me; I was still Lord Alpha.  And yet…
I have no idea what you’re talking about, my Lord,
she continued.
  Now fuck off and leave me alone. 

I almost smiled at her language.  At least some things never changed.  I could swear as well that she hadn’t even realised who it was who’d initiated the contact.  Gingerly, I tested out my theory. 
Except that this time you called me. 

Stop playing mind games with me, My Lord,
she snapped, pulling away and leaving nothing more than a dull ache in my head.

I massaged my temples.  Perhaps I was becoming so bloody obsessed with her that I was starting to imagine things that didn’t exist.  I had no reason to believe she wasn’t still up in the far reaches of Scotland.  Even if she could use the Voice in a way that no other shifter other than Lord Alphas had ever been able to before, then how could she broach such great distances?

Kitten?

There was nothing there.  Not even a glimmer.

Mack?  Mackenzie?

It didn’t matter how hard I tried - the only answer I received was the cold wind whistling down the mountain slope.