It took Akira a couple of minutes to unlock the office and change the alarm settings on the new suite of sensors so they were inactive.
Taking their lead from the Slaughterhouse’s tracking system, Annie and Mikey had been busy. Now anyone teleporting in or phasing through to either the BASEment or the office would be immediately tracked by a series of sensors monitoring for any changes in temperature and air pressure and cross-referencing it with the motion detectors and analysis of any changes to the light density. If any inconsistencies were detected, half a dozen mobile laser pointers hidden in each room would then automatically track and target the source of the deviation, a siren would sound and Frankie would initiate his paparazzi procedure, recording video, sound, the works.
Of course, the system was designed to instantly identify anyone ‘properly’ equipped with one of Annie’s so-called ‘bolted’ tracker units and ignore them.
There had been a few false positives with the new system however, especially in the BASEment. Mary in Banshee form for example, still tripped the sensors as her tracker was inactive when she was insubstantial and if a client walked in to this office – let’s just say a nuclear attack warning would be less annoying; so Akira just switched the system off when he arrived and took his chances.
He picked up the mail. Thankfully there no parcels containing any additional chess pieces; bill, bill from HM Revenue and Customs – ah, that went straight to the back of the pile, spam, a payment cheque – that was unusual, most clients paid online these days. He continued going through the post; spam, discount at the local pizza place, another bill… Ah, this one was from the National Trust. It was a formal looking letter, which he opened assuming it would announce that they would now be claiming the Estate at FFrwd Dylluan.
To his utter amazement, it was an official apology from their head office. Dear Sir, blah de blah de blah, ah, we apologise, some form of error. He quickly read on. The estate should never have been considered for acquisition as, whilst the site may be of some national significance, no remains of the original castle has survived, the manor house itself was in such a poor state of repair and the grounds too small and insignificant to warrant the attention of the Trust. The Trust has re-evaluated its appraisal of the estate and found nothing outstanding regarding its natural beauty or existing historical interest. Unsure why an offer to take on the property in lieu of death duty was made in the first instance… Blah, de blah, de blah, some form of technical error finishing with abject apologies for wasting his time. Okay!
He reached for HMRC letter wondering if he was about to be lumbered with an inheritance tax bill for thousands.
To his surprise, it was another apology. Seems Cabot, Cunningham & Crowley hadn’t actually required proof to register the estate under his name after all so he was, whether he wanted it or not, now the legal owner of FFrwd Dylluan. The letter apologised for a technical error, whereby the estate was originally evaluated as a viable 12-bedroom property and grounds, failing to account for its current, derelict condition. Having reassessed at the request of his lawyer Lucius Cabot, the value of the estate was correctly felt to be valued in its present state at under £300,000 and as such, Akira was not liable for any death duty. Again apologies and contact details if he wished to discuss the matter further.
What was Lucius up to?
That night he went to join Sam and Annie at the Endeavour. Arriving first, he ordered a pineapple and orange juice and sat by the bar as the pub began to fill up. The stool next to him was pulled out and a smiling young man in a bespoke suit obviously made on Savile Row, sat down. “I do hate having to slum it, don’t you Akira? So, what now? Other than avoiding the attention of Abyss of course, congrats on that by the way.”
Akira turned quickly, it was the man he’d seen that night at Cabot, Cunningham & Crowley’s; Lucius Cabot sat inches from him with a big smile across his face. “I hear there is a rather large bounty out on the Balance’s heads, just thought you might appreciate a personal warning.” He said.
To Akira’s surprise he found himself unable to speak. He tried again but his mouth was too dry and his hand trembled but it couldn’t be a spell, not here. The reptilian statue behind the bar made sure of that, so why was he not able to talk? Could it possibly be due to fear? Did finally facing the man he believed had killed his parents leave him scared and afraid?
Lucius ordered a malt whiskey and quietly explained that the contract was for the four of them dead, preferably slowly and very painfully and was aimed specifically at the mystical community with the prize apparently being a rare and powerful grimoire. “Just a word to the not-so-wise as they say.” As he stood up to leave, he dipped his finger into his whiskey and with his wet finger he drew a single letter on the counter, a Capital ‘R’. He then turned and walked towards the door without another word, just as Sam and Annie entered.
What the hell had just happened? Why hadn’t he been able to speak, to confront him? At least to ask him whether he’d killed his parents or why he’d allowed the transfer of the estate?
As Sam and Annie sat down beside him at the bar, Akira ignored the feelings of panic inside and explained what he’d just learnt, leaving out the bit about his being unable to talk to Cabot. As he spoke, Sam nodded at all the right times but kept on peering over his shoulder at one of the occupied booths. Akira glanced over and realised what was bothering Sam. He immediately recognised Dementia sitting with some others in a booth.
Sam seemed to be trying to decide whether to walk across and confront her. He saw Jack’s face, saw his concern as he reached behind the counter and grabbed a white metallic sheath that he pushed over his forearm, a scooped edge covering his knuckles smoothly slid open and Akira saw some sort of integrated magazine mechanism beneath it. He got the impression that the whole sleeve could extend out to form a narrow, curved cesta-like scoop extension to Jack’s throwing arm – possibly for catching and throwing small balls potentially hurling them with tremendous power, accuracy and speed.
It looked as though Jack was expecting Sam to breach the accords and was preparing himself to take him down. As he went to step out from behind the bar, Annie stopped him with a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder, “It’s ok, Sam values this place too much to risk being banned. He just needs to talk. If it looks as though things are going to get out of hand, I’ll step in. Promise!”
She smiled at Akira, “Trust him, he’ll be fine. Now do we know the name of this book?”
The rest of the evening did not go well even after Dementia and her cronies left. Sam fiddled with his new tablet and then decided to leave having requested Akira teleport them back as soon as they went outside just in case dementia was waiting to take a shot… He shielded up and stepped outside, feeling a bit like the tethered goat. Nothing, no sniper shots, no blast of freezing ice. He created a portal and gestured for Sam and Annie.
That night he slept badly.
Next morning Akira teleported to outside the Dojo; for some reason he could never actually teleport inside the walls. He opened the ‘garden’ gate and stepped inside. since her rescue, Mai-Li had been absent from greeting him and he still didn’t know what the Gamemaster had actually done to her whilst she was trapped in the Slaughterhouse, so he was completely surprised to see her waiting for him on the small wooden bridge. She bowed and smiled. He noticed on her back was an ornate cane – the design looked like twin wooden sword handles merged together whilst the cane itself resembled wooden sword blades twisted together into a double helix design.
She saw his attention and smiling quickly pulled the cane into her hands where they split and despite being made of mahogany uncurled into a pair of wooden Bokken leaving her holding twin blades, one in each hand. “Sensei persuaded a Kodama, a Japanese dryad? To make them for me, only I can remove and hold them otherwise they will begin to grow roots through the thief’s hands… I refuse to be unarmed and helpless ever again.”
Akira nodded. “I’m sorry.” She smiled a sad smile as she put the two blades together and they began to curl round reach other again. She began to turn then saw the serpent-like mark on his arm. “Oh Akira, why?” She reached out and gently took his arm exposing the full mark; like a serpent with a single circle in the weave of its body. “Do you not know that calling on demons and Gods for power carries a price? This is a sign that part of you is in debt to the serpent god Yig. If you call on him, or other demonic beings too often then one day they will own you, body and soul… Their powers corrupt the unwary.”
Akira merely nodded and headed towards the mats and the other students as they prepared to greet the sunrise.
Superhero Adventures, UK Style 