The train pulled into King’s Cross station, crawling forward belching smoke like a great iron dragon. The trio were all shaken awake as the beast lurched to it’s final stop and quickly gathered their baggage before hopping off the train. All were hyper vigilant in the crowded station, now expecting assassins and daggers behind every corner.
“Christs alive, these bastard’s have got me fekin paranoid.” Gavina grumbled to her companions.
“Ah’ve been hunted before but ah’ve always known what the hell it was and had a general idea of where it was hidin. But this invisible hand shite is gettin old fast.”
“Always a wise state of mind to be in mistress. When the threat one faces is man, not beast, it does well to exercise the highest caution. Though I do not believe we are currently in immediate danger. Our opponents so far have relied on us revealing ourselves, thus they can not have any clear idea of whom it is they are seeking.” Bal Das reassured his newest charge.
“Aye, makes sense ah’spose, but still, three attacks in a day is more than ah’m willin ta ignore when walkin through a crowd like this.”
“Honestly I am surprised ms. McKinnon, I would think someone of your background would be used to the feeling. I have had so many people looking to violently reproach me over one issue or another that I have simply ceased worrying about it. You can’t avoid all of your enemies, so might as well get on with your day and attempt to address the issues individually as they arise.” William spoke as a lecturer imposing sage wisdom on an incoming class of students.
“And that is exactly why you’ll not be makin it ta old age. If you’ve gotten me thinkin about bashin yer head as many times as ah’ve considered it, ah can’t imagine how many others out there are just waitin teh catch ye unawares and knock that empty head off yer shoulders.” Gavina sniped at him, disgusted at the idea that anyone on this kind of job would recommend not being overly cautious.
“Ha, I bet you I outlive your joyless angry self. I would wager currency, but the fact that I am here with you is proof enough that you couldn’t in good conscience gamble that.” He mocked, taking the opportunity to flaunt his irritating necessity in her face.
Frustration at his need to remind her of her impoverished state, and worse, her reliance on him for those matters, lead her to lash out and accept the ridiculous proposal.
“Aye, broke ah might be, but that dunae change the fact that ye are bound ta die long before me. What ah do is dangerous, but at least I use ma brain. The way you go floatin about, it’s dangerous just ta cross the street. Broke as ah am, if ah die before ye, you can give my feckin eulogy for all I care. Get as dramatic, or as lewd and crass as ye want. Won’t be more than three people there anyways, and two of em will be gravediggers, if ah’m lucky enough ta get that.”
Williams face lit up at that.
“Excellent, and in the unlikely event that I die before your reckless and temperamental self, you are free to give my eulogy and tell everyone exactly what an ignorant, worthless, annoying little ponce I am. Should shake up the services nicely. I, unlike you, am quite popular, and can assure you a wonderful crowd.”
“Any chance ta talk some truth to a crowd a rich cunts is fine by me. It’s a deal” Gavina extended a hand to seal the deal , which William seized and used to pull her in, kissing each of her cheeks.
“Sealed in the Italian fashion, unbreakable.” He proudly pronounced. The smile it brought to his face was quickly washed away by a pair of fists crashing into his own cheeks from both sides.
“Repaid the Scottish way you slippery shit.”
Gripping his aching face and checking his mouth for loosened teeth, William replied through a red and swollen face
“If that ish how you repay a kissh, then dare shay I weep for the unfortunate gentleman to crack your maiden vault. Scottish cushtom likely requires hish head on a pike.”
Gavina, turning away to hide a face as red as Williams at the mention of her virtue in front of Bal Das of all people
“Why the hell does it matter anymore with him? Fuck it, I’m not lettin the bastard rile me up anymore, I have too much ta do” She chastised herself silently.
“Cut the feckin games and let’s get to the library before yet another assassin, mercenary or other hired gun kills the only man in the country who can figure out these twice damned scribbles!”
Once Bal Das managed to flag down a coach, the trip to the British Museum Library was blessedly peaceful. Gavina was eager to finally get some answers to her litany of questions surrounding her father. William on the other hand was simply basking in one of the finest cities in the world for finding trouble, distraction and mischief, as Bal Das cautiously observed every window, alley and pedestrian as they passed by.
As not only a world class manservant, but a bodyguard of no small skill, large cities were a strain on his nerves and abilities. Far too many nooks and crannies for an attacker to simply materialize from, and too many crowds for them to melt back into. Not to mention the sheer number of potential assailants surrounding you at all times. No, it was not his cup of tea, but as a professional, it was not his place to guide his wards choices, but to simply help protect them from the consequences. So there he sat, scrutinizing the whole of the grand city while his companions sank into their own minds. With all the bursts of violence and excitement he had been experiencing the last few days, it was nice to be able to take in the sights for once like a normal human being.
“I must make time for prayers soon” He thought
“The violence so far has been unpleasant but manageable, yet I fear things shall only get worse as we go forwards, and my soul needs rejuvenating for the coming storm” Not to mention few things made the poor man feel quite as unholy as spending an excessive amount of time around his masters oldest son.
His father had shared many stories with him of his wild youth, but nothing compared to the depravity William made great efforts to dig deeper into on a daily basis. His only saving grace was his incredible generosity to those he called friends, and the stunning and absolute lack of malice in the young man. Few could spend as much time wallowing in sin as the young master, and still retain the sparkling innocence of youth he maintained. Bal hoped that meant there was hope for salvation in him yet, though it was not his duty or place to push for such.
“Perhaps Lady McKinnon will be the influence he needs, hardship often brings about change for good or ill” And lord knew there was little William could do to get worse.
The carriage reached their destination approximately an hour later in front of the Library, one of the finest such institutions in Europe, and likely, the world. Bal Das gently shook William awake, and William awoke Gavina with a swift kick to the shin.
“Garh! Kick me will ye ya poxy little cunt?” She exclaimed in pain and anger, before delivering a swift fist to his noble forehead with a satisfying *thud* sending him sprawling back in his seat in a mild daze, clutching his cranium.
“I was just waking you up miss sensitive sallyI I didn’t realize frail little moi could deliver such devastation to a sturdy oak such as yourself. In the future I shall make sure to treat you as the delicate flower that you are, apologies madame” He said through throbs of pain.
“Aye you just try et and see how swift ye earn another bash to that empty bucket on your shoulders. Now come on and get out, we’ve got te find this Smelyansky fella before anyone else gets in our way. Ah can’t be tossin people out uh wendows and burnin down buildings everywhere we go”
“Technically I burned down that building, thank you very much. I’ll not share credit for my quick thinking and fine work, you have plenty of glory already.”
“Twas not fekin glorious ya bastard, et nearly got us all killed” Gavina responded, not wanting to get the little imps head to full by admitting it had in fact worked out beautifully for covering up the incident in their room, and getting them away without any more attention then they already had.
The trio made their way up the steps and through the columned entrance to the grand old museum, catching no small amount of unwanted attention from the other patrons, unused to seeing such a diverse and disheveled group wandering about it’s hallowed halls of history. Unsurprisingly, their ragged appearance earned them the attention of one of the finely dressed and bespectacled staff members, and a very unamused guard.
“Might I help you?” The elderly looking gentleman asked, in a tone that made it clear he had not the slightest intention of helping them with anything more than finding the exit.
William moved to speak, but Bal stepped smoothly in front of him and took a deep bow.
“Humble apologies for our appearance, gentlemen. We experienced a great deal of hardship whilst attending to private matters outside the city, but our business here was far too urgent to make ourselves properly presentable.” His tone the very height of civility and contrition.
The spectacled man seemed taken off guard by this display of eloquence and suggestion of importance.
“Business you say? Who might I ask, are you exactly? And what business could you possibly have with the Museum?”
Bal offered yet another, though less dramatic bow this time around.
“Forgive me once again, the young master behind me is Lord William Blackthorn, eldest son of the honorable Viscount, Alfred Blackthorn. Perhaps you are familiar with the numerous contributions to the Indian wing of the Museum donated by the young lord's father?”
Recognition flashed across the man's pinched face and he took on a much more agreeable air.
“Yes! Viscount Blackthorn has been a most excellent patron to the Museum over the years. We have several exquisite treasures resting in our collection thanks to his charitable constitution. I do apologize for the suspicion, we are simply unused to such esteemed guests arriving in this...rustic, state. I do hope your affairs were managed without too much trouble. If I might inquire once again, what is the nature of your visit to this temple of knowledge and culture?” The obeisance pouring off of him like honey from a freshly opened hive.
“None of yer fek-”
“I am afraid our business is our own, my good man” William jumped in before Gavina could undo all of Bal’s fine work in a single crude stroke.
“It is a private matter on my fathers behalf. But fear not, you can still be of assistance. We are looking for a Jewish chap in your service by the name of Smelyanski. We have reason to believe he is employed in the Library department of this institution, and his aid in our endeavors would be absolutely invaluable. By that I mean valuable enough to earn a generous bit of further patronage to this...temple I believe you called it.” William smiled his devil's smile, confident that the use of two of the golden trio of diplomacy (Flattery, Bribery, and Threats) had worked their magic.
“Ah yes, mr. Smelyanski has been with us for the past 2 years or so. He can usually be found in the archives buried under an avalanche of dusty tomes and crumbling volumes. Possessed of the shrewd and diligent mind so common among his people. He will be in the south wing, third floor. I can take you to him if you like, it would be no trouble whatsoever.”
“The fek ya mean “his people” ya stuffy-”
“Thank you very much mr….”
“Herriman, Edward Herriman at your service lord Blackthorn”
“Ah yes then thank you mr. Harridan, but we shall see ourselves to the archives, I am sure my good man Bal Das can find it. Excellent tracker, possessed of the keen animal instincts of, how did you put it, his people. Do forgive the young lady by the way, I’m afraid she’s frightfully Scottish, and the physicians say there is no cure. Though lord knows we English have tried.”
This eased the tension that Gavina seemed bound and determined to needlessly introduce into the atmosphere and earned an unpleasant chuckle from Herriman.
“He he he, a fine jape indeed sir, though I’m afraid it’s Herriman, not-”
“Thank you so much again for your help, we will be on our way, and do keep watch over these fine treasures you have displayed. According to the previous owners, they have a terrible habit of being stolen whenever there are Englishman about. Ta ta!” William gave a dismissive wave of his hand as he twirled about on one foot and began to walk away, before Bal grabbed him gently by the shoulder and directed him the correct direction as Herriman looked on with a slight look of confusion and then irritated realization painted on his narrow face.
“Two thengs” Gavina stated as she followed after and matched stride with the two.
“One”*thump*
“Du-nae try and shut me up just ta spare some prat a bit a rudeness” She advised, striking William hard in the meat of this upper arm to his pained protest.
“And two” *thud*
“Mention me bein a Scott as a bad theng again an I’ll put me foot so far up yer arse you’ll taste the shite on my soles, understood?”
William clutched his throbbing arm and glared at her.
“I feel it would be far more productive if you provided me with a list of things I can say without earning your foot or fist you god damned ruffian. I don’t believe I have ever met anyone meant to be so tough against physical danger who’s emotions were so utterly fragile. You and my mother seem to have that in commo- strike me again and you only prove my point!” He exclaimed, interrupting himself as Gavina raised her fist for yet another blow, this time directed at his stomach.
“Christ woman, the most miniscule amount of restraint for someone who has done so much for you in such a short time would not be uncalled for. I may strive to be a good christian and forgive your many shortcomings, but for all you know this Smelyanski fellow is not the forgiving type, and may take poorly to your hideous manners and foul temper. Where would we be then eh? Up quite a strong river with nary a paddle in sight. So perhaps try and even yourself out for a few moments at least. I have a touch of opium in my tobacco tin if you think that’s what it will take.”
“Ah don’t need any fekin opium ya bloody deviant. Ah wouldn’t constantly be so damned angry with ya if ya didn’t fire off the first daft thing to pop in yer head every two seconds. Ah swear it’s like ye go out of yer way to piss me off, and then ye are shocked every time it has the same effect. How mad is that?”
“You knew I was going to be terrible before you took me on. I on the other hand hadn’t the slightest idea that your talent for violence was apparently just a knee jerk reaction to all of life's little irritations, and that the killing of monsters is completely incidental. For all I know you don’t hunt anything at all and just happen to strike your prey during your frequent temper tantrums out of sheer fucking statistical probability. Once again though, I ask you to soothe yourself before you get worked up and scare away our only lead into what I might remind you is your fathers disappearance.” William remarked with more genuine irritation than he typically let slip, being tired of arguing and in desperate need of a fix of some kind, be it drink, smoke or flesh.
They reached the third floor of the archive despite their distracting bickering thanks to the excellent navigational skills of Bal Das and found themselves looking at a maze of shelves and desks. Leather bound books, map cases and other assorted documents were neatly stacked and organized on every available surface, awaiting avid readers and eager researchers hungry eyes. There were several patrons perusing the shelves and cabinets, by appearances a combination of teachers and students, but none stood out as obviously being their quarry. Ready to have this tedious task done and over with, William employed the one strategy guaranteed to draw out any truly dedicated library employee.
“MR. SMELYANSKI!” He called out with as strong of a shout as he could manage, frightening and irritating almost everyone in the room, multiple pairs of eyes glaring at him as their fingers rushed to their lips in the international symbol of “shut the hell up”
A moment later a short man with thinning hair in a tweed jacket came limping hurriedly down the central aisle, a pile of documents in one hand and a wooden cane with a round brass topper in the other, looking none too pleased.
“What is the meaning of this ruckus?” He implored, a look of nervous irritation on his face like that of one unused to confronting others.
William reached out and grabbed his hand for a vigorous shake, causing the cane to clatter to the floor.
“Greetings mr. Smelyanski, I am Horace Greenbaum and the female who I can only assume is scowling behind me is my colleague Ellen Braftman. We are here about a rather urgent and private matter concerning a certain mr. McKinnon.” The last word whispered in a conspiratorial tone.
The look on the stuffy little man’s face dropped from one of anxious anger to one of surprise and suspicion.
“What do you know about mr. McKinnon?” He inquired in a hushed tone, ever respectful of his surroundings as he stopped to recover his fallen aid.
“Perhaps we can discuss this further away from gentile ears eh? Not exactly a topic for the goyim if you catch my drift.” William responded, his voice threateningly on the edge of rising again to push the gentleman to take them away from the numerous pair of glowering eyes.
“Yes I suppose you are correct. Follow me and do please keep your voices down, this is a place of learning”
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
He beckoned them down the long wooden aisle, limping onward between the laden shelves, standing like sentinels of knowledge. William lead the way for the group, with Gavina close behind and Bal Das bringing up the rear to provide security should anyone take advantage of the close quarters to spring another assassination attempt. The aisle ended at a simple wooden office door with a frosted glass window, the name “Smelyanski” painted in the center in gold. The little librarian produced a set of keys from his jacket pocket and opened the door, ushering everyone in as quickly as he could before securing it once again.
“Now” The gentleman asked, turning around and allowing his voice to rise to a normal speaking level
“Mr. Greenbaum, I do not know what involvement you might think I have with mr. McKinnon, but I can assure you it is a purely casual relationship. We shared nothing more than a common taste in literature” He stated in fluent but lightly accented English, a touch of eastern europe in his voice.
Gavina wanted to speak out at the obvious lie, but William interjected, enjoying taking the lead for once far too much to allow Gavina to have the reins back so quickly.
“Now you see that is interesting, because I find it odd that someone who simply had a shared passion for the written word would be so hush hush about it. Certainly such a man wouldn’t have looked like someone had walked over their grave at the simple mention of their acquaintance's name by unexpected visitors. No no, that behavior seems far to meshuga for an academic as distinguished as yourself. Now mr. Smelyanski, let us try this again, and see if either the truth, or some improved acting talent makes an appearance this time.” William suddenly grabbed a fountain pen from the oak desk in the center of the little office and held it to Smelyanski’s throat
“What do you know of Donald McKinnon, his mission, and his current whereabouts?! Tell me now or I swear I’ll pen your obituary into your bloody liver!” His voice took on a frantic maniacal violence as his eyes widened and threatened to leap out of his skull.
Bal and Gavina, taken off guard by the swiftness of the outburst came to their senses and grabbed both of Williams arms and yanked him down into a chair, his legs kicking wildly as they did so, the pen clattering to the floor.
“Th-threaten all you like, I was warned you would come for me, but I will tell you nothing you savages!” Smelyanski choked out in a shaky voice, not nearly as full of conviction as he would have liked.
“What in the bloody hell has gotten into you!” Gavina shouted, not even bothering to consider what this all must sound like to anyone within earshot outside.
William, with jarring speed, ceased his flailing and foaming at the mouth and struggled to straighten himself out as best he could with his companions' vice-like grips on his arms.
“I was merely testing if this stranger truly could be trusted with what we are about to present to him. Would you truly risk your fathers life based on the potentially fraudulent written recommendation of some unknown librarian?”
Gavina looked William deep in his eyes and pondered all the hateful or violent responses she could feed him back, but realized, infuriating though it was to admit, that he was right. She normally would never just assume anyone could truly be trusted with something this important based on a single note. The grief of her fathers disappearance had warped all of her instincts and training to the point it took an idiot like William to drive some sense into her skull.
“Yer right. It was daft to waltz in here without a plan to tell if he was our man. But dear god ya didn’t have teh scare the we bastard half teh death. Isn’t it more yer style ta, ah don’t know, bribe the bugger?”
“Well that seems a bit antisemetic. You are correct though, that is often the fastest and easiest way to get someone to turn, but an enemy who plans to betray you anyways would be well advised to take the bribe, take our information, and then turn on us anyway, thus doubling his pay. A threat on one's life however leaves few such chances. I think we can safely put mr. Smelyanski into the “Loyal” category.”
The shaken scholar looked somewhat pleased to hear this, but was still sweating profusely from the frightening ordeal.
“I thank you for your quick actions to get this animal away from me, but I am afraid I do not know what you are talking about, nor do I know any of you, therefore my loyalty still lies beyond your grasp. I will not simply betray what I know because you saved me from a murderer that you came brought here.” Smelyanski remarked.
“Aye fair enough. Despite what this little shite told you, mah name ent Ellen Braftman, ets Gavina McKinnon. Donald McKinnon is me da. He disappeared and left a stack of gibberish, and a note sayin teh trust you ta help figure it out” Gavina uttered in an uncharacteristically vulnerable tone.
“Is that so? Well I find your concept of trust to be a bit skewed, but I can say that Donald told me to wait for your arrival. You are exactly as he described….and a bit more.” The adrenaline pumping through him letting slip a touch of nervous boldness that even he found surprising.
“I am deeply saddened at the news of your fathers disappearance. He is a good man who I have been happy to aid these last eleven months. Though I must ask, why the false identities when you made your introduction? Surely you must know from this note that I was expecting you.”
“God knows why thess one does anythin” She said apologetically.
“Excuse me for attempting to add a layer of secrecy to this seemingly quite clandestine business. I thought it quite brilliant to choose names that best fit their target audience. I was under the impression your people were a rather tight lot, and that a shared heritage might grease the wheels a bit. Though I unfortunately wasn’t able to do the same for my butler, not many Hebrews quite as….tall, as him eh?”
“Good lord ye jest can’t turn it off can ya?”
“No, I’m always this brilliant, can’t be stopped unfortunately. Much like my charm.” He retorted with a wink and a smile.
“Perhaps we should get to the business we came here for ms. McKinnon?” Bal asked politely, steering things to a more productive path before a fruitless argument could break out between the two.
“Aye, aye, let’s get too et” She responded, relieved to have her attention taken off of William before she started feeling violent again.
“An excellent notion. I am quite eager to inspect these mysterious symbols and formula’s Donald wrote of. According to him, he was on the trail of some manner of occult organization that he believed responsible for the deaths of his wife and son, not to mention countless others. I have dedicated a great deal of study to such groups and told him that should he stumble on anything of particular interest or value, I would do my utmost to aid him. I too know the pain of losing one's family, and will do all I can to bring those responsible for such wickedness to justice.”
“Aye that all makes sense. Just gettin the damn papers, the lot of us were attacked three separate times by folks who figured someone would be arrivin lookin fer da.”
“That does sound like a harrowing experience. Many apologies for your hardships. I myself am a member of, or in touch, with several organizations interested in matters of the arcane and spiritual, but nothing of the cunning and maliciousness that seems to be on display here.” Replied Smelyanski.
“Most covens, secret societies, whatever label they may operate under, tend to stay as secretive and subtle as they can to avoid attention. Too many hangings and burnings over the centuries for their comfort. To be so bold as all this, very unusual.”
“Dabbler in the mystic arts are we Smelyanski old boy? Do we have a warlock on our hands? Where are your wands, your cauldron, your bottled spirits? Speaking of which, dear lord I need a drink.”
“I will thank you for keeping your ramblings to yourself mr. Greenbaum. They are called secret societies for a reason. Furthermore I find the term wizard highly insulting. I am not some fairytale character, I study the arcane and the occult from a purely academic standpoint. Such things are rarely, if ever within the realm of actual workability, and are instead the highly unscientific ravings and chicken scratch of mad men.”
“Et’s more real then ya’d like ta think mr. Smelyanski but that ain't the point right now. Ah just need ya to look at these papers and tell me who in all the bloody hells ah have ta find and kill to save my da.”
“We most certainly will continue this discussion later if what you say is true. Your father was very sparing of details with me on the nature of his work, but I see now there was good reason for this. You are of course correct, time is our most rare and valuable of assets. Please show me what he left you.”
Gavina dug through her pack and produced the odd stack of scribbles, formulas and drawings, only saving her fathers letter for herself, unable to part from such a precious memento for even a moment if it was not absolutely necessary.
Smelyanski walked around his little desk and sat down, giving his bad leg a much needed rest. From inside his jacket he produced a pair of spectacles and placed them at the very end of his prominent nose. His wide brown eyes began to scan the pages from every angle and direction, searching for any and all possible hidden codes, messages or patterns within the maze of formulae and glyphs. After what felt like an eternity of silence he sat the stack down and removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose with the other, now free, hand.
“What your father has collected here, is of immense interest to myself not only personally, but academically. Most of these seem to be nothing more than a shopping list. A very interesting shopping list. Intensely purified silver, aconitum, that’s wolfsbane to the common man, chemistry equipment, astronomical tools and charts, highly specialized lenses, the list goes on and on. And here” He said, pointing out a string of incomprehensible shapes.
“These are all common alchemical symbols for many of these ingredients, though I can not guess what on earth anyone would be using such nonsense for these days. If you wish to find the purchaser of such materials, you will have the greatest chance of success looking into the purchase of lenses in the city. If someone is looking for anything too particular, then they will have to make a custom order, and there are very few who could produce such an item.”
“Might you by chance know where we could inquire about such a special purchase?” William chimed in.
“I will give you the names of the best two establishments in London once we have concluded here mr….I don’t believe I received your true name.”
“Ah yes, terrible manners, my apologies, I was a bit busy earlier-”
“Threatening to carve my liver, I remember...vividly” Snapped the researcher with more than a small amount of resentment.
“Yes that, I have the honor to be William Blackthorn, at your service and how do you do.”
“Spasibo. Moishe Smelyanski, as you need me. The next piece of important information inscribed here ms. McKinnon, is a list of names. I am afraid none currently stand out to me, but I will do all that I can to uncover the identities of as many as I am able, as swift as I am able. The third and final clue of immediate interest is this” He held out a single slip of yellowed and worn paper, wrinkled from what might have been years of folding and unfolding.
“This list of dates and locations likely correspond with one another in some fashion. I am sure that with enough time I can unlock some vital clues for your mission. I apologize that I can not do more for you immediately, but these things do take time. I do not believe your father truly knew what he had stumbled on, only that he had tied together a great deal of information to a single source or purpose.”
“How long is et gonna take?! Et’s already been well past a week, fer all ah know the bastards that took him are pickin their teeth with his feckin bones by now!?” Spat Gavina, tired of the delays, tired of distractions, tired of the ever present feeling of helplessness she was left with since her fathers disappearance.
She was not a woman used to being weak or incapable of solving her own problems, and she hated the feeling more than any pain she had ever suffered.
“I will do my absolute best to crack this as soon as possible ms. McKinnon, come back here in two days and I promise I will have something for you, though I can not promise you what that might be. Here” He said as he grabbed a pencil and a scrap of paper from inside the desk, scribbling a pair of names onto it.
“Find the shops of these two men, they each do work for the museum on occasion, they have shops in southwark. If you find one, you will find the other, I am given to understand they set up their businesses across from each other. Apparently they are siblings, with more than a fair bit of rivalry, their surname is Kruger. They are the most likely candidates for the makers of those lenses, and may be able to point you in a general direction.”
“Two days? Do ye have any idea what can happen in two bloody days?! Da is out there in the hands of god knows who or what, and yer tellin me ta sit on me arse fer two feckin days and talk to some feudin glass cutters?” An outraged Gavina began to rant and rave, each passing syllable gaining more frustration, anger and fear.
“I apologize but these notes are out of order, without context and of far too great a variety for me to be able to conjure up any quick answers. I know what you are going through from personal experience, and I will do my utmost to help you as quickly as I can, but I can not perform miracles.” Smelyanski replied with a look and tone of deepest regret.
“That will be more than sufficient” Interjected Bal Das before Gavina could shoot off another round of panicked abuse.
He could tell the stress of the many delays and days of inannaction were getting to her, and he felt for the young woman. She was a lady of action and independence, and here she was relying on others to solve her problems for her. All the while she was sidelined and simply waiting for answers while the one person she had in the world suffered who could guess what indignities and tortures.
“We thank you for any aid you can provide, and I will be sure to have us ready to move whenever you have any information for us mr. Smelyanski.
Gavina let loose a shout of pure, unfiltered frustration and punched Bal Das directly in the sternum for silencing and apologizing her for (in her opinion) her justified anger at the millionth delay she has been faced with since this ordeal began. She was being asked to wait two entire days to get possibly nothing more than a vague idea of what her fathers attackers might be after, and no guarantees of it being helpful in actually finding him. She was trapped in her own personal hell, everything she loved in the world taken from her, and her helpless to do anything about it. She had been raised her entire life never to allow herself to be vulnerable or helpless, at the mercy of others, and yet the moment her father was gone, she was reduced to nothing more than a passenger on this ride, with no way off. Fat, boiling hot tears began to form in the corners of her eyes and she willed them with everything she had not to fall, to no avail. She stepped back, rubbing at her traitorous eyes and looked up from the ground at Bal’s chin, unable to look him directly in the eyes after what she had just done. Bal Das for his part was the picture of grace and forgiveness.
“I apologize for my presumptuousness, Lady McKinnon. I understand your anger at this delay, but it would not do to take our anger out on those who are only trying to offer what help they can. Let's spend this time following up on whatever leads we can to add to the vital intelligence I am certain mr. Smelyanski will uncover. The sooner we leave him to his work, the sooner you will have the answers you seek.”
Bal’s response was so professional and without resentment, that it amplified Gavina’s guilt to unbearable levels. She felt the fight bleed out of her, her shoulders slumping and her heart sinking down into her bowels.
“Aye, leave the man too it. Smelyanski, do what ye can, ah’ll be back in two days. Thank ye fer the lead on the brothers. Apologies fer the shoutin.” She muttered out mechanically and made for the door, keeping her head as high as she could manage with as low as she felt.
“I wish you luck ms. McKinnon, you have my word, I shall do all within my power to help your father. He was a good man.”
“Aye, he is” Was her only reply.
The trio left the small office and entered back into the maze of desks and shelves that made up this portion of the Library. There were still half a dozen people flitting about with stacks of leather books, sheafs of papers and bundles of writing materials, but they all had an air of unease about them, as though they heard only the least pleasant parts of the conversation within. Gavina took the opportunity to blow off a bit more of the anger that had built up in her chest at a much more deserving target than her companions.
“Mind her FECKIN business ya nosey cunts, or I’ll smash every one of ye unconscious with the heaviest book in here and stuff yer bloody nose with pen’s.”
The most guilty looking of the offenders quickly shuffled off into the shadowy corners of the archive, and the ones who found themselves trapped at their desks, jerked their heads down into their reading material so fast as to cause whiplash.
“Apologies dear readers, please excuse that inexcusable outburst. My dear companion has just received the most dreadful news from the archivist. It appears despite all claims by her mother to the contrary, that there is, dare I say it, a Welshman in the family line, and it has just sent the poor lass spiraling. As I’m sure you can all understand she is quite out of sorts over it all, hence the screaming and threats you may have heard through that offensively thin door. Enjoy your reading and remember to count your blessings, as it could always happen to you.” William’s hasty attempt at forging a cover story if nothing else did seem to dampen the fire of unease in the room and people settled back into something resembling normality.
“Ah yes, the universal key to maintaining a low profile, screaming threats. Brilliant work my dear, nobody will have any clue we are up to something now. Let’s get the hell out of here before you stealth your way into the evening paper. I swear you only shout at me for making trouble because it steals your opportunity to do so.” William uttered in an envenomed whisper.
He ordered Bal Das to lead the way out of the shadowy, book lined corridors and back out into good, honest sunshine once again. They stopped at the foot of the staircase leading up to the museum and set about their plans for the next two days. William, uncharacteristically, took a commanding lead over the troupe.
Bal, I feel it prudent that you should spend the next few days investigating as many chemists, alchemists, botanists and other such purveyors of exotic and uncommon materials as you can sniff out here in the city. Attempt to uncover any unusual purchasing patterns or particularly noteworthy pickups. Perhaps you can determine a common thread that will tie in to the information we have received from dear mr. Smelyanski. Gavina darling, it is best you make yourself feel useful and take your mind off of this dreadful uncertainty before you make like Vesuvius and blow your top on all of us any worse than you already have. Go to the lens craftsman and see who it is in need of any particularly difficult or odd orders, and there is a great chance you shall have the lead you are looking for.” He said all of this with a maturity and air of authority he did not typically express, though it suited him more than he should like. His father might have been proud seeing him bark orders so eloquently.
“Aye that’s all well and good. But what will you be doin while we are off chasin leads and lookin fer clues oh great and fearless napoleon?” The sarcasm dripped like venom from Gavina’s tongue. Not that she would be sorry for a reprieve from the hectic young man and his constant trouble making and snarky commentary.
“Glad you asked my dear. I shall be sliding into the shadowy underbelly of this grand city. I will walk among the vile and villainous. I will make myself one with the underworld and gently coax out all her secrets until the truth reveals itself in a glorious climaxing crescendo.”
“So yer gonna feck off to the slums ta drink and whore yerself silly while we do all the work, that’s et?” Gavina wasn’t even surprised or angry by this point, simply tired of the irritating pretense of usefulness William insisted on cloaking himself in.
“You wound me like a thousand saber slashes ms. McKinnon. There are none among us, save for myself, who can so effortlessly make themselves one with the criminal element of London. Without the iron anchor that is your radiant and cheerful presence hanging around my neck, I shall be better capable of gathering the local gossip and investigating any unusual goings on. All roads lead to Rome, but all whispers lead to London. Who knows, I may even uncover hidden allies we never knew we had. Something you display remarkably little talent for, save for my own oh so forgiving self, and even that is beginning to give way. If I am being exceptionally honest, I also do admit I am in dire need of a break from...well you. I am in this for the long haul of course, but there really is a limit to the abuse and overflow of emotion a lad can take, and I am fast reaching mine. I feel we would both benefit from a deal of space, and I am far too kind a gentleman to kick you out of the town house. So I shall crawl into a lovely little hole...or 3, for the next few days, and be...well not rested, but ready to go once again. You, I imagine, could also do with a bit of space from myself to sort out your various feelings and what not. If we stay together much longer then I am certain one shall kill the other, and my money is unfortunately on you. Any objections? Good. I bid you both adieu” With a flourish of his hand William bowed before turning and fast walking, before transitioning into a full blown speed skip to the nearest carriage.
Bal and Gavina watched the coach take off to god knows where and looked to each other with expressions not of surprise, for this behavior was far too in line with what they both knew of the young lord, but of shared exasperation, with hints of relief sprinkled in for good measure.
Bal Das broke the silence first.
“There is wisdom in what master William says.” He calmly advised, hoping to sooth Gavina’s hot blood before it could begin to bubble.
She breathed a heavy sigh
“Aye, ah know. Just get’s under me skin whenever he’s right about somethin. Doesn’t feel right.”
“His moments of clarity can be a bit jarring and erratic, but the young master is not without his smarts. He is reckless and thoughtless, but not wittless. I believe I shall do as he suggested, and begin my search for any connections or abnormal customers at the local chemists and other such vendors. Perhaps you will receive a more straightforward answer from the grinders mr. Smolyanski pointed out. I shall be home in time for dinner, but there is no rush for you to return my lady. Should you have need of me, simply leave a message with Agwe, and I shall come running. Though I have no doubts that you are more than capable of handling yourself, London can be a far more dangerous wilderness than any mountain or forest. Now I must be off, good day madame.” He finished with the stiff, deep, practiced bow of a lifetime servant and strode towards the line of horse carts to go his own way into the twisting streets and alleys of the city.
As he did this however, he abruptly paused and turned back to face Gavina.
“I almost forgot my lady.” His deep booming voice called out over the hum of the city.
He reached into his breast pocket and produced a small blue velvet purse, and gave it a firm underhand toss towards Gavina. She snatched the bag out of the air and stared down at it.
“That should be enough for any expenses you run into in your search. Agwe or myself shall supply you with more should any need arise. God be with you on your journey” And with that, resumed his path to the taxi’s with his smooth, dignified stride.
Gavina pulled at the golden purse strings and poked at the contents. There were at least fifteen pounds there, more than she had ever held in her hand at once that wasn’t cursed. Though she supposed this was in a way cursed with the association of William.
“Well ah won’t have teh walk ah ‘spose.” She thought out loud.
“Stick with this lot long enough, next theng ya know ah’m posh as William”
She still desperately wished that there was more she could do for her father right now, waiting be the next best thing to outright torture, but she realized she had no choice but to accept her circumstances and do the best with what she had.
“There’s nuthin for it ah reckon, best be off”