II

Alastor followed Aram with the rest in tow. The man kept looking back at them. He’s more afraid than me and I am scared shitless.

“You know that feeling when something feels too easy; like there’s a catch at the end. Well, this is it.” Jon said.

“Oh, please. If it feels easy, it is by design. If Everilda and Ezra do their job at keeping his son occupied, we will have a few hours.”

“What about him? Where is he?”

“I do not know Jon, he could be halfway around the world for all I care. All I know is that he isn’t here and we are, that’s all that matters now.”

They walked uphill on the path that led to the manor as it came into view now. It was too dark to see much of anything besides the odds and ends of the structure. The things he could see seemed ordinary. What did I expect? Gargoyles. The windows were shaded, The chimney let out smoke, Hmm… Interesting. He moved closer to Aram.

“Is anyone inside?” Alastor asked

“No one is allowed inside without the presence of Mister Singh and his family.” Aram replied

“So, where do you live, then?” Jon asked.

“There are servant quarters about half a mile that way,” Aram raised his arm to his right. “Along the wall.”

“Are you sure no one is inside?” Alastor asked.

“To my knowledge no Mister Grayson, I do not see how there could be.”

The chimney irked Alastor, it could just be his mind being his mind but still, any deviation could be the end of their lives. He eyed it when they reached the manor, standing beside Jon he muttered: “Shall we?”

“What harm could it do?” Jon mused.

Alastor gestured Aram to open the door, it was just as dark inside as it was outside, they made no movement to open the windows instead Alastor turned to Abdul Rahim and the big man lit a lamp and they began to move through the manor with haste, walking methodically to the cellar where according to the map their prize was located. I hope to god that this map isn’t mistaken.

The latch to the cellar was located behind the kitchen which in turn was at the other end of the manor. I do not know if he is stupid or clever hiding it here. “Here, it is here.” Amar said pointing at the latch. “I do not have the key.” The poor man was visibly shaking, Alastor wondered if bringing him in was a mistake. He has brought us this far and he won’t talk. At least for the sake of his family.

“Do not worry my friend, we will take it from here. Stand back,” Alastor said assuredly.

“We should have brought Isaiah, he’s good at lockpicking,” Jon said.

“He is passable at lockpicking. Besides I don’t trust him enough as it is.”

“Your quarrel is with his sister, he is one of us.”

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“Tell him that.” Alastor bent down to open the door, bringing up the skeleton key from his pocket, he studied the lock for a moment. It’s just as he described, Alastor thought. The lock was almost the size of his hands. He held the grey-green lock in his palm and inserted the key but before turning it he glanced back at Jon. “Who needs a lockpicker when you have a key.”

“You had the key to this particular lock?” Jon raised his eyebrows.

“No, dumbfuck. It’s a skeleton key.”

“Where’d you get that?”

But before Alastor could answer his fiddling with the lock had done its job, with an audible click the lock jerked open, Alastor pulled it off its hinges and without saying a word opened the door and went inside.

Climbing down the ladder he noticed an odd sort of light coming from somewhere ahead of him. It flickered and moved without stopping/continually as if a bird fluttering its wings in a cage. He brought a finger over his lips when Jon and Abdul Rahim were beside him. He raised his eyebrow at Jon to which he replied by tilting his head sideways, bringing his palm to his cheeks and then closing his eyes.

Alastor nodded and walked slowly towards the light, one step in front of the other but somewhere along the way the floor creaked, he looked behind to see Jon wince but before he could think of something to do a voice called out: “What’s that? Who’s there?”

Alastor simply closed his eyes. Gods above, the chimney, the fucking chimney. The urge to remain hidden simply fled his mind. There was no place to hide, nowhere to run. So much for a clean getaway.

He walked towards the room, he felt a hand grab his arm but he waved it off, there was no point. He thought quickly about what to say, he was the king of bullshit after all.

If there ever was a man built for guarding something this was it I am the king idiot of all idiots. “Ah, my good man. So fortunate for us to have found you here, Mister Singh sent us to fetch you, he has an urgent task for you.”

The bag of brawn and no brains simply stared at the three of them. “Never seen you here before.”

“As to that, well, we are new. We were sent by Sabastian to keep his son in line.”

Brawn’s nose flared. “Bullshit” and he charged at them. So, he has brains after all. Alastor took a step back, he wanted to take several steps back but before he could Abdul Rahim stepped in front of him.

“Stay back,” Jon called out to Alastor. “Anything else would you have me do Mister Fischer?” Alastor replied.

“Yes, keep that mouth shut.” Jon cocked his arms, his elbows cracked and he walked towards the charging man.

Brawns tried to punch Abdul Rahim but his fist was caught by Abdul’s left hand, just under the wrist. Their faces were inches apart, Brawns headbutted Abdul Rahim and he stumbled back, rubbing his forehead vigorously.

Alastor was keeping his attention on Abdul Rahim. He had not noticed Jon interlocking his arms with Brawns. Both men grunted, Brawns kicked Jon but Abdul Rahim was already on him, grabbing by the neck and pulling him back. It was simple arithmetics, in the end, two against one, the odds were never in his favour when the two, in particular, were Jon and Abdul Rahim.

Brawns was now held tightly by both Jon and Abdul Rahim each of them holding him by his arms, He tried to wrench free by kicking his feet, shaking his shoulders but to no avail.

“What is your name?” Alastor asked.

Brawns spat back in response. “You will never get away with it, he will hunt you down and then you will pray that you are-” Alastor punched him in his throat, Brawns coughed and struggled for breath.

“Yes, yes I will pray that I’m dead, you know I have heard one so many times it almost feels like a greeting. I asked you for your name.”

“Owen.” Alastor struck him again, right across his jaw. “Your full name.”

“Hargreaves. Owen Hargreaves.”

“Hmm, I liked Brawns better.”

Alastor turned his attention towards his companions. He met Jon’s eyes then he turned his head. “I see no other way. Stealth was paramount for this to work. I am truly sorry Owen Hargreaves. May the Gods judge you fairly. I hope you have lived a full life.”

He could not ask his friends to condemn their souls by ending another life, no doubt, they had done it before and no doubt, they would do it again, himself included. He unsheathed his knife from his belt and brought it over Owen’s head to stab him.

Abdul Rahim caught his wrist. “I will not let you do this. I made a vow to protect you, even from yourself.” He said it in his slow crawling accent.

Alastor chuckled, “I see, you won’t do it yourself either hmm?

His solemn stare was the only response he received. “Fine, then. I wonder who leads and who follows when it’s just us eh?” He rubbed his temple slowly, turning back he took in the room for the first time; he raised his head to look at the lamp, which to his surprise was filled with fireflies, dozens of them were flickering, smashing against the glass, buzzing incessantly.

There was a bed in the corner, next to it a table full of books, some of them opened. Glass candles lay flat on the ground, one broken in half, no doubt from the fall, one whose fire was still burning, touching the floor. He had found the answer to his problem.

“Knock him out. First, we get what we came for.”

Abdul Rahim placed the unconscious man gently on the floor. Alastor and Jon inspected the door to their right, it was not locked. “It’s in here.”

Alastor took the lamp from Abdul Rahim and immediately regretted that decision, a putrid smell hung in the air, it reminded him of a chicken coup but if all of them were left on their own, left to die. He finally saw what he came here for. Gods, no. It was not money, it was not gold either. It was a child, a small sickly child in a cage.