CHAPTER FOURTEEN #2
Hero blinked, hiding those terrible fires for a brief second, and another groan erupted from her.
“Fuck me,” she said. She struggled into a sitting position and Oleander scrambled to help her rise.
Arms clasped, Hero swaying on trembling legs, they stood together and stared at the gateway to Bright Renewal Academy.
Astonishment filled the air between them – for entirely different reasons, Oleander soon discovered.
“This – this shouldn’t be here,” he said, flabbergasted.
“I slammed right into a fucking shield!” she exclaimed at the exact same moment.
They looked at each other. “A shield?” Oleander repeated dumbly. “Against demons?”
She withdrew her hands from his grip and straightened her disheveled clothing, her eyes on the gateway. “I’m not entirely sure what it’s meant to shield against, but it kept me out pretty fucking effectively.” She looked around. “Where’s my horse?”
He jolted at the abrupt change in subject. “Probably back in the stables by now. Oh, shit, sorry! Your jacket!”
“My glasses,” she said, her lips pressed into a line. “And my cane. Never mind. I’ll improvise.”
She ripped at her voluminous trousers, tearing free a strip of the sparkly green cloth. He felt a sense of relief when she tied it around her head, shielding her eyes once more.
“It’s overwhelming sometimes,” she said, “seeing through things. And I can’t look at that… place without some sort of shield. It’s horrible.” She waved her hand in the direction of the mansion. It didn’t appear so horrible to him. Just a big, sprawling house…
…that had sprung up from nowhere.
“Let’s see if this shield works on me,” he suggested grimly. Hero nodded and he stepped forward gingerly, past the place where he’d peeled her off the road, then a little farther. He waved his hands in front of him but felt nothing. Another few steps – nothing. He took a breath. Maybe–
Ahead of him, the ornate gates of heavy wood and iron scrollwork split and began to swing inward. Oleander went for his blunderbuss, heart pounding, thinking of the potions he might need, cataloguing what was left of his inventory in a flash.
But it wasn’t a demon opening the gates.
Nothing supernatural at all, in fact. Merely men, dressed in uniforms of a similar cut to his own – similar, but not identical.
The color was a dark gray, not navy, the jackets longer and boxier, trimmed in silver with a patch he didn’t recognize on the breast – a rising sun in golden thread.
His hand eased off his blunderbuss and he snapped straight. Behind him, Hero let out a low hiss.
He craned his head to look at her. She was frozen, unable to come any further. He, on the other hand, was unfettered. The shield only worked on her, apparently. Maybe it was set to guard against demons, in that case, or anyone with demon blood.
“Hallo,” one of the men called. There were two of them that Oleander could see.
One stayed back behind the gate, only peering out at them suspiciously.
The one who spoke, short and ordinary-looking, stood in the gap, not quite as suspicious of them but not exactly friendly either.
“Do you have business at the Academy?” he asked. “Or an appointment?”
“An appointment?” Oleander’s gaze scanned the distant mansion. “We are peacekeepers of the Realm,” he said, then added for good measure, “We demand entrance!”
“Oh, no, I’m afraid not.” The man shook his head, sounding genuinely regretful. “Not without an appointment. Surely you must understand the necessity. We can’t let just anyone in here – safety concerns and all that.”
“Safety for what? For whom?”
“Why, our students, of course! They must be kept safe from outside influences. Such troubled souls need guidance and stability, not random gawkers.”
“Random–? I am Demonhunter First Rank Oleander Keen,” he declared, “and my partner is Inspector Death Speaker Hero Viridian. We are conducting an investigation, and our findings have led us here. You cannot deny us entry.”
The man was unimpressed. He gave them a bland smile. “Return with a warrant, good sir. Only then will I grant you entry.” His dark eyes shifted to Hero and narrowed in disgust. “And only you, DH Keen. Her kind isn’t allowed inside.”
Keen bristled, offended at his attitude toward the inspector. “She is an officer of the law, sir. Who do you think you are?”
“I am Mr Torrance, the gatekeeper of Bright Renewal Academy, and the students here are in my charge. I take my duty very seriously, sir.” He began to back away, his hand rising to grasp the gate. “Return with a warrant, or don’t return at all. Good day.”
It took both men to push the gates shut, and the resounding boom echoed across the hill.
Frustrated, Oleander marched back to where his partner waited.
She was still staring at the so-called “academy,” as far as he could tell, her brow furrowed above the cloth over her eyes.
“I guess we get a warrant,” he muttered, glancing back toward the closed gates.
“Although on what grounds, I have no clue.”
“I saw the chain,” Hero said. “At least, I saw the residue it left behind in our reality. Those marks on Catarine’s neck, the strange substance on her skin, both came from a spectral chain. Surely you’ve seen the like before in all your demonhunting?”
“I know demonic chains are often used in summoning,” he temporized. She sounded exasperated and he didn’t want to contradict her, but he hadn’t seen any residue left at the crime scene. “But until Dr Virchow completes his testing, we won’t know–”
“I know,” she insisted. Her blindfolded eyes turned toward the grand mansion, her body stiff with tension. “What is this dark and terrible place?”
“It doesn’t look all that terrible, Inspector.” He frowned. “I don’t think I’m seeing what you are seeing.”
Her face shifted toward him. There was a glimmer of fire bleeding through the green silk. “Very few people do, Keen. But look closely. Open your other senses, not just your eyes. Remember your training.”
He did as she suggested, though his first instinct was to become defensive. He’d struggled so long to prove himself; he didn’t need her reminding him to do his job correctly. Take it with a grain of salt, Keen. She’s not being insulting, just being… her.
So, Demonhunter Oleander Keen looked. Looked hard.
At the mansion sitting dark and silent atop a manicured hill.
He opened his ears, his nose, breathed in the cold air.
Felt the earth beneath his feet, vast and indifferent.
His partner had found a chain, followed it here.
He imagined it stretching toward the sprawling house.
It flickered at the edge of his vision, and slowly the world around him began to change.
The sky turned gray – heavy, crushing. The house on the hill seemed to darken, to grow ancient in a heartbeat, falling apart, splitting at the seams. Darkness spilled from it like smoke, creeping across the land, coming for him, reaching–
Keen gasped and stumbled backward. Only Hero’s firm grip on his arm kept him from tumbling to the ground. He felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach, nauseated and sweating. His mouth was dry, his tongue thick. “What the fuck ?”
“Now you see,” Hero said with deep satisfaction. “Let’s get our warrant.”