Page 11 of Magic and Medicine

With a cough designed to hide the breaking of his voice, the messenger launched into a spontaneous speech.

‘I apologise for tonight. There are matters requiring my attention that can’t be postponed, even for the pleasure of your company. Please enjoy my little gifts. I didn’t forget about you, Sara, and I never will.’

‘You what? Boy, I don’t know you, and I’m way beyond your age group. What nonsense are you spouting?’

What the hell is going on with my life? My thoughts were racing when, shocked speechless, I tried to collect my jaw from the floor. Why was an unknown teenager offering me such a passionate speech? I saw the bright red blush crawling up his neck when I finally took the flowers, and he reached into his bag to pull out a warm paper bag that smelled like cinnamon rolls and coffee.

‘Eww. You’re way too old for me. That was the message, Master… I mean, Mr Borowy asked me to tell you.’ He put the bag next to me on the floor, turned and left while I stood there, not believing what had just happened.

The coffee and rolls smelled divine, and freesias were my favourite flowers. Even if the boy’s remark offended me slightly, I took the gifts and quietly closed the doors.

‘Too old, really? I’m barely over thirty, not some old prune.’ I said, conveniently forgetting I pointed out the age gap in the first place. I put everything on the kitchen table before going to the bathroom to turn off the water.

There wasn’t much to unpack: a coffee, two sweet buns and the flowers. As the messenger said, they were little gifts, a cheap trick to gain favour. My mind knew it, but something deep inside warmed, looking at those trinkets. I saw the honey trap and was waltzing into it with a cheerful smile. He is smoking hot and is clever enough to find your favourite everyday pleasures to keep you pliant, so try acting like an adult and don’t fall for his pretence of caring. My common sense fought hard with my feelings until I finally stopped grinning like an idiot.

The old practical Sara soon reminded me of the injured boy Leszek had forced me to save in such terrible conditions, so I ate, drank, took my now tepid bath and went to bed. Whether I could sleep was another matter, but I was determined to forget the Forest Lord. The further we stay away from each other, the better, I thought, quietly blessing whatever kept him busy. I closed my eyes. After all, there’s work tomorrow, and thatismypriority.

Chapter seven

If anything else went wrong today, someone would bleed, heavily. My frustration stemmed from the dockland trip to sniff out the Russians who attacked the werewolves. It was a monumental waste of time and resources as, despite using my best trackers, there appeared to be no evidence that anyone had even been ambushed there. Next, while trudging through warehouses, shipping berths and containers, I received a mental call from the Council of Gedania. I’d stood in some foul-smelling building as they demanded to know why ordinary humans seemed to have found the Gates of the Nether and were trying to breach the barrier despite the added security.

Gedania, the Nether’s version of the Tricity area, Gdansk, Gdynia, and Sopot, existed in a separate reality, one that lay so close to this one that it overlapped in places, making it possible to travel between realms at these, as we called them, Gates, but only if you had the magic to see them. It hadn’t always been like this, but when humanity drove the elder races close to extinction, each race’s great and powerful came together to perform a spell so immense it stripped them of much of their magic. The result, however, had been worth the cost, providing a home for those that iron, silver and rowan could kill.

Many cities like this existed worldwide, the strange magic of the Gates attracting both humans and the elder races. Despite this attraction, the Nether races, whose existence heavily depended on magic, could only visit the mortal world, not remain in it, just as anyone with human blood could cross to the Nether but be unable to stay. However, without magical blood running through your veins, seeing or passing through the Gates without assistance was impossible.

The one exception to this were the guardians, those who sacrificed their power to the great endeavour, forever tied to the mortal world as anchors and protectors of the descendants of magic. Guardians, like me.

The Council took great delight in mentioning the Dark Arcana, but I didn’t know anyone in the city who chose this path. Not that anyone would dare to dabble into a blood sacrifice, death magic and time and continuum shifting spells that could rip reality apart. Especially knowing the punishment for such hideous magic was death. I didn’t need a crazed mage running around murdering humans to fuel their spells.

Still, during our search of the docks, I sensed something strange. There was a hint, a lingering afterglow of magic, but the signature was unusual, and I couldn’t pinpoint the source. Just as I decided to call off the search, leaving a regular if slightly larger presence patrolling the gate area, one of the pack whined after coming into contact with the warehouse wall closest to the waterfront, and that’s where I found traces of silver and some unknown substance that burnt my fingers.

My magic, born of the forest and wild places, reacted to the unusual substance, burning brighter as it instinctively protected me from further injury. It was as dangerous to me as it had been to the werewolves, and I understood the unit leader’s reluctance to comply when I ordered him to track the deadly material. The wolf looked at me in disgust but didn’t argue against my decision, knowing how important this was, leading us onward with his superior senses to the old dock master’s building.

The structure was old and imposing, even in its state of disrepair, with faded white numbers over the portcullis indicating it was built before the First World War during Prussia’s rule. Its walls were decorated in the old Germanic style, its clean lines and thick walls constructed with warfare in mind. Inside, darkness wrapped around us like a soft blanket, and I saw several wolves’ eyes flashing green as they caught the moon’s faint glow.

The scent we’d been following grew strong enough for me to discern, and the gathered men growled in unison. I silenced them with a raised hand, but their muffled snarls had already awakened something in the basement. At the sound of shuffling feet and a faint cry, I gestured for someone to investigate. The stench of rotten fish hit my nostrils as soon as the enforcer opened the basement doors. The noise grew louder as he entered, and I heard a woman’s voice between the vile sounds of torture.

‘Please, no more. I told you everything I know. I can’t open the gate, not the one you want to enter.’

The lilting call of a siren suddenly filled the room, awakening a soul-deep longing and sadness in the hearts of the gathered men. If not for my hastily cast spell to stifle its effect, the despair and yearning would have led them to a watery grave.

I gestured for the team to hold their positions and went downstairs. The sight confronting me lit a fury within my soul that was difficult to control. Two Sirens were held in this disgusting pig sty, one already dead, the other….

I couldn’t look away from the sight, no matter that she was a denizen of the sea, one of Jurata’s children. Since the goddess escaped to Gedania, I cared for her people as best I could, and this act I would never forgive.

‘Your song does not affect me, daughter of the sea.’ I said, approaching the siren pinned to the wall, held up by two blood-encrusted bolts. ‘Tell me, who did this to you?’ Her eyes were full of pain and disbelief as she looked at me.

‘My Lord, you found us. We hoped you might, but why did you come so late? When I heard… I sent him to the sea with the last of my strength… My sister… they refused to give her water, laughing as she begged for her life. She sang the song of the sea, but our Lady didn’t save us. Why did she abandon us?’ The resignation and betrayal in her voice tore at my heart with vicious claws. I knew she wasn’t using her gift consciously, but even in this state, she still affected my emotions, opening old wounds. Jurata didn’t just betray her people when she left but shattered my heart with her decision.

Without realising it, my hands had grasped the bolts, ablaze with pain from its vile touch, as I applied all my strength to pull them from the wall. They were well secured, but I refused to stop, my magic flaring to life, green tendrils spreading over the concrete, weakening its hold before I ripped the bolts out of the wall. If the alloy composition hurt me this much, I couldn’t imagine the agony it caused to the abused siren.

‘Shh, little Delphine, tell me who did this to you,’ I said, gathering her helpless body in my arms, her quiet sobs the only sound in the darkness. She was so delicate, yet someone tortured her brutally, and my blood boiled for revenge. She shivered in my embrace, pressing her face into my chest as a muffled cry tore through her. She was not a creature of the land, and my magic could only help a little, but I let it coat the girl, muting the pain as much as possible.

‘We shouldn’t have listened, should have trusted you, but when the men turned up, offering us more money for amber, the elders didn’t hesitate to make a deal. At first, everything went well. It was when their leaders turned up that things started going wrong. They renegotiated the deal with promises of returning dominion of the seas to us, saying they needed our help to lure in people, especially those frequenting the Anchor and other brothels. The elders didn’t care; the disgusting filth deserved whatever happened to them, so they agreed, and my sisters were taken. When I objected, they took me and Laura and brought us here to…,’ the sentence ended with a sob, and I used the last of my power to help numb her pain.

She started talking again as I carried her outside. When we emerged from the basement, the pack sent me a questioning look, and one werewolf pointed to the dark entrance of the basement.

‘What do you want to do with it?’

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