Thaumatology 04 - Dragon's Blood

  Dragon’s Blood

  The Fourth Novel in the Thaumatology Series

  By Niall Teasdale

  Copyright 2011 Niall Teasdale

  Amazon Kindle Edition

  Contents

  Part One: Ancient Engineering

  Part Two: Chinese Whispers

  Part Three: Teachers of Men

  Part Four: Queen’s Gambit

  Part Five: Demon’s Wrath

  Part Six: Trust

  Part One: Ancient Engineering

  Stonehenge Visitor Centre, Salisbury Plain, June 5th, 2011

  It was the first Sunday in June, the sun was shining brightly overhead, and the car park of the Visitor Centre at Stonehenge was full of happy families enjoying the sunny day and trying to act as though they had not noticed the attractive, black-haired woman retching violently beside a big, black Range Rover. To be fair, a large number of the men were looking, though they were far more concerned with the stunningly beautiful girl in the mini-dress who was bent over at the hips, comforting her friend.

  ‘Oh God I hate cars!’ Ceri said for the … Well, Lily had lost count of the number of times she had heard that on the way over from London, but it was a lot.

  ‘I know you do, love,’ Lily replied patiently, ‘but there’s a hunky Army Lieutenant waiting to talk to you. Cheryl’s not here yet.’

  Nodding, Ceri straightened up and got to her feet. At least her stomach had been emptied by this point. ‘Where’s this soldier?’

  Lily led the way around the car and across the car park to an army Land Rover; not quite as plush as the Range Rover, but probably better off road and a lot easier to maintain. The man in the passenger seat apparently noticed them coming in the wing mirror and stepped out. He was tall and sufficiently heavily muscled that you could tell even through the camouflage fatigues he was wearing. The face that went with the big body was handsome enough; a solid looking jaw and a broad nose, dark brown skin stretched over the kind of skull that made bald look good. There was a fair amount of boredom in the dark brown eyes and they did not even brighten at the sight of two attractive girls. At least he did not salute.

  ‘Lieutenant Chapman,’ he said, ‘with the Twenty-Four Training Squadron, Royal Engineers. You’re Miss Brent?’

  Ceri stepped forward, offering her hand. ‘Ceridwyn Brent, London Metropolitan University. I guess I’m in charge until Doctor Tennant arrives.’ She glanced at Lily. ‘And this is Lily Carpenter, my associate.’

  ‘Associate?’ he asked, shaking her hand.

  ‘She can’t drive,’ Lily supplied.

  ‘Ah, right,’ Chapman said. ‘Well, I have ten men ready to set this thing up for you. Can we get started?’

  Ceri looked around. Pulled into the field across the road was a ten-ton flatbed truck with a large something under a tarpaulin, and a huge crane. ‘Why don’t you get set up and I’ll check with the liaison here?’

  ‘You want this thing in the middle, right?’

  ‘As close to the centre as you can manage, thanks.’

  Chapman nodded and headed back to the cab of the Land Rover. Ceri and Lily started toward the nearby building. They had not made it to the door before an attractive woman in her mid-thirties emerged and headed toward them. Honey blonde hair tied up into a bun, pretty blue eyes in a narrow face with wide cheekbones. She was dressed in a knee length, beige skirt and a white cotton blouse, and she was in heels. This had to be the liaison; she just reeked of skill in dealing with people. Her smile was wide and she had perfect, white teeth. ‘Helen Brazenold,’ she said. ‘I’m the administrative officer with English Heritage for the site.’

  ‘Ceridwyn Brent and Lily Carpenter,’ Ceri replied. After the trip she had had, she was already getting tired of introductions. ‘I’m with the Met, Lily’s my personal slave and driver. Doctor Tennant should be arriving later this afternoon, but if it’s okay with you the Engineers would like to get started.’

  ‘Of course,’ Helen said. ‘Come on, we’ll go through to the site and you can go over what you’re planning, give them instructions, all that stuff.’ She started off across the car park toward the tunnel which ran under the A344.

  When what people think of as Stonehenge was built, around forty-five centuries ago, the landscape around it had not included two major roads. Now it sat in the crook of the A303 and the A344, but the landscape was still rather bleak and a little inhospitable. Even with the sun blazing down it was not entirely a warm place to be with the northerly breeze sweeping down across the plain. Cold was not the reason Ceri shivered as they approached the huge outer ring of sarsen stones from the well-worn path the visitors were allowed on.

  ‘You okay?’ Lily asked, placing a hand on Ceri’s shoulder and squeezing gently.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Ceri said, but she came to a stop just outside the first of the massive, grey columns.

  Helen turned and smiled. ‘Quite something, aren’t they?’ She said, misinterpreting Ceri’s reaction. ‘Have you been here before?’

  ‘Twice,’ Ceri replied. ‘Once as a child and then again last Winter Solstice.’

  Helen’s face fell. ‘Last… You were, um, here for that?’

  ‘We both were,’ Lily replied. ‘Ceri was the one who stopped it.’

  ‘The briefing we got was a little sketchy,’ Helen said. ‘Something about a demonic incursion and werewolves. The whole area was sealed off for two days, but when we finally got back in here we found traces of blood on one of the stones.’

  Ceri did her best to smile. ‘We’re not really allowed to talk about it. I think the Ministry classified the details at Secret level.’ She started off between the stones to where she could see Chapman and another soldier pacing about.

  ‘Of course,’ Helen said, and started after her.

  Chapman spoke before any of the women said anything. ‘We can lift it in over the stones there,’ he pointed off toward the north east side of the monument. ‘We’ve got it on a wide-wheeled base so we can roll it in from there without damaging anything. Jones here says the centre of the circle is… right here.’ He stopped at a spot of bare ground and raised his arms. Ceri flinched and he frowned. ‘You okay, Miss Brent?’

  ‘Yes,’ Ceri lied. ‘I know that’s the centre. I’ve seen a ritual done here before. Yes, this spot will be perfect.’ Ceri looked out at the stones, trying not to remember what had happened here. Her Sight showed her the blooming magical field which filled the area. It seemed to well up from this point, the point Remus had stood at to reform the demon-wolf Fenrir. A few feet away the grass was still yellowed and the earth beneath looked blackened; that was where Remus had died.

  ‘We’ll get on with it then,’ Chapman said. ‘We should be out of your hair by nightfall and we’ll be back next Sunday to pull everything out.’

  Ceri turned and nodded, giving the soldier a weak smile. ‘Thanks, Lieutenant. This is much appreciated.’

  He nodded back. ‘Just doing my job, Miss Brent.’

  Ceri flinched again. ‘Would you please call me Ceri, Lieutenant? The last man in uniform who called me that supervised…’ She stopped. Phelps had “just been doing his job” when he had organised her rape at the hands of his mercenaries. ‘Just call me Ceri, okay?’

  He looked at her, his expression appraising. ‘Chaps,’ he said. ‘The guys call me Chaps.’ He set off toward the group of soldiers setting up the crane outside the circle without another word.

  Ceri turned back toward Lily and Helen, forcing her face into a smile. ‘Once they have everything in position we have a couple of big, strong post-grads coming up tomorrow to help with the cabling and such,’ she said.

  ‘We’ve roped off an area to the east of
the circle where you can pitch your tents,’ Helen said, and then her expression changed to wheedling. ‘There is one favour you could do me?’

  ‘What’s that?’ Ceri asked. She didn’t like the tone.

  ‘Well, we have a TV crew and a number of visitors who have been wondering what’s going on. I don’t suppose you could give them a little talk? Just… explain the experiment?’

  Ceri looked down at her Metropolitan T-shirt and jeans, and then across toward the Visitor Centre in the hope of seeing Cheryl walking toward them. Lily was grinning. ‘I guess I can,’ Ceri said.

  ‘You’ll be great,’ Lily told her. ‘This was your idea.’

  ‘Cheryl designed the collector…’

  ‘I doubt they want to hear about the complex interplay of silver-iron components, love. Just a bit about why you’re doing it, and why it’s happening here.’

  Helen nodded. ‘That’s the kind of thing, yes.’

  Ceri sighed. ‘Okay, let’s do this before I chicken out.’

  The camera crew was one reporter, a man with a digital video camera, and a sound man. Ceri was pretty sure they only had the sound man because it was windy. The reporter’s name was Karen Mitchem and Lily recognised her from the BBC evening news. Lily had become almost addicted to it when her father had been the main story and had not given up yet.

  ‘If we could get you explaining the experiment to the crowd,’ Karen said, ‘and then possibly a few words afterward?’

  ‘You’re sure you wouldn’t prefer to wait for Doctor Tennant?’ Ceri asked, perhaps a little too hopefully. ‘Carter Fleming is bringing her…’

  ‘No, dear,’ Karen interrupted, ‘we’re the BBC, not the tabloids. We’re actually doing a story on the science not Carter’s love life.’

  Ceri frowned slightly and then resolved the confusion. ‘Of course, I’ve seen you in the Dragon. I think I’ve served you once. So you’ve met Carter?’

  Karen patted her on the arm. ‘Hun, I’ve slept with him. Which doesn’t make me in the least bit special. Let’s get this piece done.’

  A crowd of onlookers had gathered near the cameraman and, as Ceri walked over with Karen, the soundman lifted a boom microphone into position, looking to the cameraman for the right height. ‘Can we get a few words for level, Karen?’ the soundman called over.

  ‘Just step up there and say something for him, hun,’ Karen said.

  Feeling like a complete idiot, Ceri stepped up to just under the furry object on the end of the pole. ‘Hi everyone,’ she said, and watched the man on the other end of the pole fiddling with controls. ‘We’re going to do a little explanation of what’s going on here in a minute if you’re interested.’ The soundman gave a thumbs up while the crowd rumbled enthusiastically.

  Karen stepped forward. ‘Okay, Miss Brent is going to do her piece for all you nice people. Don’t worry about length, we’ll film it all and cut later. If anyone wants to ask questions and such, I’m sure Miss Brent can take a few?’ She looked to Ceri who nodded back though her heart seemed to be thumping in her throat. ‘Excellent. If we could keep those for the end and try to keep as quiet as possible until then. Thank you.’ She turned to Ceri. ‘Okay, let’s get started, just introduce yourself and go from there.’

  Ceri took a deep breath, glanced at the cameraman to check he was recording and went for it before her nerve broke. ‘Hello everyone, my name is Ceridwyn Brent and I’m a research assistant at the London Metropolitan University. What I’m here for today, and the rest of this week, is that we’re experimenting with a new form of power generation. Some of you may know that certain alloys of silver and iron are able to block magic.’ Various people nodded, especially the kids; they were teaching that kind of thing in school now. ‘Good. That’s because they take the magic and convert it into electricity. A lot of our magical technologies are based on that. My boss, Doctor Cheryl Tennant, has come up with a novel, very efficient, converter for doing just that. It was originally designed for another project, but I suggested that we bring a modified version up here and try to generate power from Stonehenge.’

  She turned a little and looked back at the stone rings. She was fairly sure the camera had been sited so that the circle was in the background. When she looked back, the trick had worked and the crowd had followed her gaze. ‘You see, over four thousand years ago, our ancestors did something which we can’t even replicate today. They built a structure out of stone which makes a really huge magical field. Don’t worry, it’s quite safe. Inside the circle it reads about eight thaums, which is a lot higher than, say, central London, but nowhere near the levels you’d get near the German Rift or the Trinity test site. That field extends out for miles around the henge as well, getting smaller as it goes. Isn’t it fascinating to think that, back in the Stone Age, people were building something so incredible? When all the stones were standing, this place must have hummed with power, the kind of power we need thaumic accelerators and a whole bunch of technology to make. And these people did it with some big lumps of rock.’

  A girl of perhaps fifteen put her hand up near the front of the crowd. Ceri smiled at her and nodded. ‘Are you the same Ceridwyn Brent who discovered the Null Thaumiton last year?’

  ‘Well, Doctor Tennant and I both did, but yes, that’s right. This generator project actually came out of the same research that produced that discovery.’

  ‘So, you’re saying that Stonehenge is a thaumic decay catalyser?’ the girl asked.

  Ceri was impressed, she hoped she looked it. ‘That’s exactly right. A Null Thaumiton is what we call a closed-loop particle. It can travel between dimensions, so quite often there are loads of them flying about all around us which we can’t see or feel. What Stonehenge does is to cause those particles to decay into two open-loop particles, a Positive and a Negative Thaumiton. Those are what make up the thaumic field around the stones. And I hope to see you taking thaumatology at the Met in the future.’ The girl absolutely beamed, though her parents looked a little less pleased.

  ‘What’s with the soldiers?’ a man asked from somewhere in the second row.

  ‘Ah well,’ Ceri said, ‘the government is hoping that this system could be a major source of safe, clean, electrical power so we have managed to get the help of the Royal Engineers in getting our rather bulky equipment in and out of the circle without damaging anything. Twenty-four Training Squadron have come down to assist us, and I’d like to thank Lieutenant Chapman and his men for doing such good work.’

  ‘Okay folks,’ Karen broke in, ‘that’s all we have time for right now. Thanks for those questions, by the way. Very good ones.’ She turned to Ceri and smiled. ‘Don’t know what you were worried about. You’re a natural. We’ll move spot a little and do a short piece to camera if that’s okay?’

  ‘Uh sure,’ Ceri replied. The reporter was putting her at her ease. Which probably would have worked better if Ceri had not known she was doing it.

  Lily appeared as they were moving away from the main footpath, Helen not far behind. ‘You were great,’ the half-succubus said. ‘I knew you would be, you’ve given me enough lectures on thaumatology without being boring.’

  ‘I’ll have to get you to talk to some of the school trips during the week,’ Helen added, and Ceri suppressed a groan.

  ‘Got to admit,’ Karen said, ‘the bit about the ancient engineers building stuff we can’t was inspired. I don’t think the girl’s second question will make the cut, too technical. I’ll try and make sure we get the whole thing onto the Internet stream though.’ She stopped and looked around. ‘Here will do. Oh, and you can call me Karen when you’re answering me.’

  With everything in place and another sound check done, the cameraman nodded and Karen turned to face Ceri with two of the huge sarsen stones as a backdrop. ‘Miss Brent, you said that this could represent a significant method of power generation in the future, but there aren’t too many places like Stonehenge around.’

  ‘That’s true, Karen. Our plans for using this
system on a larger scale are currently only in the planning stages, and they all depend on this experiment working well. We do have plans though, and government interest in them if things work out.’

  ‘Do you think we’ll ever be able to build something like Stonehenge ourselves?’

  Ceri smiled. ‘It’s a lost art. However, we know that there were spells and forms of magic used in the past which have been lost and some of those have been rediscovered. It’s not impossible.’

  ‘And on a personal note, I understand that you recently got your PhD on the process by which were-creatures and lycanthropes change. Congratulations. Wasn’t that a terribly dangerous thing to study?’

  ‘We had to take careful precautions with the lycanthrope,’ Ceri replied, biting back hard on a sudden surge of anger. ‘Lycanthropes are the victims of a terrible disease which turns them into little more than animals at the full moon. The true were-creatures, however, are intelligent and often very caring people. There was no danger from any of the ones I studied.’

  Karen smiled her best TV presenter smile. ‘Thank you, Miss Brent.’ She turned to camera. ‘This is Karen Mitchem, at Stonehenge, for BBC News.’

  ‘And out,’ said the cameraman.

  Karen visibly relaxed and reached up to undo the top buttons on her blouse. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘That was a great answer on the werewolves thing. My boyfriend’s a ronin. He moved down from Norwich after that business last winter. He still won’t talk about what happened.’

  Ceri suddenly felt bad about the anger. Then she noticed a few scratches around Karen’s collar bone, which was why her blouse had been done up to the top. Leaning forward, she said quietly, ‘The sex is great though.’

  The presenter blushed and pulled at her collar. ‘Uh, yeah. You’ve been with…’

  ‘Several,’ Ceri admitted. ‘One regular one in the Battersea pack. I’ve had a few scratches myself.’

  The blush got deeper. ‘I’ve got this gingham dress and red hooded cloak…’ Both women giggled, though Ceri was not sure her own wolf would go for the Little Red Riding Hood look. ‘I better get going,’ Karen said. ‘We’re hoping to get this onto the six o’clock broadcast.’