Lost Talent - Chapter Four

There was only one potion Heidi knew that golemised into frogs when overboiled. ‘Molewood’s amphibious transmutation.’ When drunk, it would allow the user to breathe water through their skin for a short time and increase their tolerance for cold. It was only useful for people in one particular profession: A scavenger. They were people who travelled around the countryside, gathering reagents from the arcane animals that still existed in the wild – known as cryptids.

Beryl had taken up that life after graduation, spending most of their time camping out on the moors of Yorkshire or on the shores of Scottish lochs. If they were out hunting there was no chance of finding them, but if they were in London, there was really only one place to start looking: The Conduit.

It was the closest thing Arcane London had to a club, a place where rebellious young talented could push the boundaries and flip off the Magisterium. Beryl had tried to take them all along just after they left school. Sol said he was too busy to join them and it was far too loud for Mina and Heidi, so the whole evening had been a disaster.

Modern sound systems were proscribed, so the owners used ‘Higgs Sonic Conduit’ to set up links to several of London's top clubs. They could switch up the source of the music whenever they wanted and enjoy London's top DJs to their heart's content.

The light show was a great deal easier to sort out. Most graduates of the academy could evoke simple patterns of light in their sleep, and the crowd were happy to use the opportunity to express themselves. The dancers wore small foci and elements sewn into their clothing. As they moved, trails of colour and shape were left across the dance floor.

Beryl was in the centre of it all, moving rhythmically to the thumping music. They were dressed in tight leggings and a top that exposed their toned belly. Over the top of their clubwear they wore a stiff jacket which was so heavy it threatened to fall off them as they danced; their moves were interrupted by intermittently shrugging it back on. It was made of deep red scales that flexed oddly and glinted like metal in the light of the evocations.

They were where they had always wanted to be, moving among a sea of chaotic life, standing out for themself but connected to everyone around them. The half empty bottle of spirits in their hand clearly helped with that.

Mina watched Beryl from near the entrance. She didn't want to ruin their evening, but she knew that she had to. She was happy they were enjoying the night. Of all of them, Beryl had had the worst time at school. Just before the end of their second year, they had presented the group with an audacious plan. Heidi – currently clinging to Mina's arm and trying very hard not to get overwhelmed – said that what Beryl had achieved at age 13 was a greater piece of unique enchantment than anything anyone had managed for a generation.

It was a cosmetic enchantment over their whole body, causing it to grow and change over time. Beryl's body was now expression of their own subconscious image of themself. Part of that was that they no-longer conformed to any solid definition of gender, but it also meant that finer points of their appearance shifted subtly over time.

Beryl had been working on the enchantment almost since they joined the school, but it was too big and too dangerous to try to perform on their own. They had sought out Heidi for her advice, who along with Mina and Sol, had agreed assist them. Afterwards, Beryl had slotted into the group like it was the most natural thing in the world. They were someone that they hadn’t known they were missing until they found them.

As Beryl danced, Mina catalogued the changes to their appearance. If you saw them every day, you wouldn't notice any difference, but since graduating they had met up so infrequently. Mina liked to update her mental image every time she saw them. At the moment, they were wiry, like an athlete. The hard days of hunting had made Beryl fit, and they were happy to show it off. They had allowed their skin to tan, and finally out of school they had shaved their hair on one side, the other side grow long to their shoulder. It was a luminous green, the colour augmented by their magic for the night. Had their cheekbones become more prominent? Maybe. It didn't matter in the end; they were always recognisably Beryl no matter what.

Heidi had clearly had enough, which she communicated by tugging on Mina's sleeve. She couldn't put it off any longer. They needed to tell Beryl about Sol's disappearance and ask if it had anything to do with the big score that had their name on the lips of every alchemist and enchanter in Britain.

By the strange magic of crowded rooms, Beryl realised Mina was heading for them as soon as she stepped onto the dance floor. A massive grin broke across their face as they saw her. They ran over and lifted Mina in a clumsy hug, nearly soaking her with whatever spirit they had been drinking. “OH MY GOD!” Beryl shouted over the music, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? I THOUGHT YOU HATED IT?” They looked over to Heidi and steered Mina back towards the bar where the music was marginally quieter. “Is tonight the night I get to corrupt you with alcohol? Baileys for Mina and a Jägerbomb for Heidi?”

Heidi was momentarily curious. “What’s that?”

Beryl Smirked “Oh, just an energy drink…”

Heidi interrupted them through gritted teeth “Don't mention that awful stuff!”

Beryl laughed. The first time Heidi had been exposed to the concentrated sugar and caffeine found in untalented energy drinks had become a legend in their little circle. “Oh, yeah, ‘The Incident.’ I forgot.” They had absolutely not forgotten. The amount of alcohol in Beryl's system was making them tease Heidi more than normal, and Mina had no patience for it right now.

“Beryl, this is serious. We need to talk about Sol. Somewhere quiet!” Mina shouted, trying to make herself heard over the music.

Beryl once said that they could tell they were going too far if Mina was getting upset. “Fine, fine! But you’ve got to promise me you’ll let me treat you after! Come on, we’re celebrating!” Beryl drew them past the bar, where someone was using a large silver needle to draw tattoos that writhed in motion across the skin of a well-built man. He nodded in a familiar way to Beryl as they moved past.

They took a fire exit into the alleyway. Several Conduit patrons were standing around in small groups, smoking, sipping transcendental potions or doing other things that were not best suited to the dance floor. Hopefully the couples would move somewhere more comfortable and private soon.

Heidi visibly wrinkled her nose at the acrid mix of tobacco, stale alcohol and alchemy that tinged the alleyway, but it was better than the club by far. She sighed with relief and let go of the death-grip that she had on Mina's arm.

Beryl moved them far enough away from the other patrons for some privacy before they started chatting away. “So you're not here to congratulate me then? Did Sol tell you all about it?” They spread their arms as if they were waiting for applause.

Heidi was unimpressed. “We heard. Well done.”

Beryl rolled their eyes. “Sourpuss. Spill it then. What’s so important that you had to drag me off the dancefloor?”

When the pair had finished, Beryl had blanched in shock. “But why would the constables be there looking for him? It can't have been the blood – we were free and clear! Everything was one hundred percent legit!” They turned away to face the wall of the alley. “Those miserable sods.”

Heidi stepped in and placed a hand on their shoulder. “Can you start from the beginning?” Beryl and Mina knew the look on Heidi's face. All the distractions and sensory input from the rest of the world were being blocked out. She was one hundred percent focused on Beryl and their story. “What was it like? When the dragon died?”

          *                                  *                                  *                                  *

“It was sad is what it was. This massive thing, fourteen- or fifteen-feet nose to tail. It was small in comparison to some of the stuff you see in films, but trust me that was way big enough when you're alone with it. The air pressure changed as he breathed, you could feel it in your chest. When I arrived, his eyes were only half open, but he fixed me with a cold stare. He was a grand old thing, hundreds of years old. They always do it. When they are about to die, they remove themselves from the rest of their flight, driven by instinct. They go off to die on their own, like old cats. The dragon wards normally keep them inside the sanctuary, so some untalented idiot with a cross on their breastplate doesn't stick them with a shiny piece of metal.” Beryl rolled their eyes and took a long pull on a vape they took from inside their jacket. Mina and Heidi didn't dare ask what was in it, but it seemed to help them. “Not the real reason of course.”

“What did you do?” Mina asked.

“Well, I bowed for a start. Nice and stately. There's a chant. Five stanzas of old English. It's in some kind of meter or verse. ‘The greeting for a dying dragon.’ They cleared their throat and began to recite in a serious tone:

“All bow to thee who rules the cloudy skies.

Pay tribute to the dying hunter proud.

Rest now your head and dream of times long past,

And pass your strength to those who gather round.”Beryl faltered. “It goes on like that. I don't know if it made a difference, if he was out of strength, or the fact that I'm technically still a virgin, but he let me stay either way.”

Mina raised an eyebrow. “Technically?”

“Yeah, technically,” Beryl winked. “After that it was just a matter of waiting. I summoned my teleportable chest and checked the contents. I got my claim written up and left the time of death blank. I built a small fire to keep warm. It was about two am when he finally passed. He seemed to struggle and fight for a second. It shocked the life out of me, I swear I almost ran. He threw back his head, gave a massive, mournful roar, and everything froze. It was like the whole world stopped. Then he gave out and slumped to the ground. When I got over the shock, I wept like a baby. They don't tell you about that bit in the grimoires. I was just about with it enough to throw my claim in the fire to send it off to the Magisterium.”

“Lud, they gave me a hard time. But I could tell, I had them. A legitimate scavenging claim on a 300-year-old dragon. I know my rights. He died on common land, outside protective wards. His body was up for grabs, and I got there first. Oh, they were pissed. They stood and watched me the whole time. I could have done without an audience. I've done small game before, but nothing bigger than a Barghest. This was a big job. Man, I've got to show you, look!” Beryl put their hand inside their dragon scale jacket and drew a long, oversized knife with a dark wooden handle from a concealed sheath built into the lining.

Heidi whistled. “You finally made yourself an athame! Can I hold it?”

“Oh yeah. Oak handle from the Forest of Dean, cut from the highest branches, in the light of a full moon with a silver saw. The blade is forged from Iron ore from halfway up a mountain in Wales, dug out after four days of dowsing. Refined into steel by my own hand in a crucible that's been used by mages for over a thousand years. It took two weeks from finding the materials to the final inscriptions. Sol helped me brew the acid for the etching on the blade. I used the glyphs you drew for me, Heidi. It's so smooth.” They closed their eyes and for a moment. “Perfect for butcher’s work. They don't tell you about that in school, either. Behind every jar of newt's eyes, there's some poor sod with a pair of tweezers and a bucket full of amphibians. That was me, only I had one really big newt and not nearly enough jars. I only had about four left after I finished bleeding it.”

“Did you use Havelock’s Express Exsanguination?” Heidi asked.

“Nah, it's quick, but far too messy. I used Bulzera’s Bloodflow, it's slower, but more precise. Let me guide the flow of blood into the jars easier. Anyway, that's when I called in Sol. The job was just too big for me to handle alone. He transported over, and we talked it out. He figured it was easier if I let people come to me, that way they got everything fresh, and I didn't have to worry about preservation. He sent scrolls to his alchemist friends with a tiny dot of blood in the corner so they could transport over. I carried on with flensing the skin into manageable slices.

“I should have taken the wings off first, didn't figure that out till halfway through. We couldn't roll it to get to the underside while they were still attached. I'm glad Sol was there for that part, but really, we could have done with at least one more person. We got our wish soon enough. People started arriving and I was like a butcher at market. We had alchemists, enchanters, cooks, spiritualists, smiths - everyone wanted something. Sol took the bids and kept everyone in line while I worked. I owed a few people favours, so they got paid back first with interest.

“I told Sol I only wanted to sell to independents. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, not just for me, but for all of us. All the people who never get a chance to work with dragon stuff.

“O’Dalaigh and Sons found out and showed up anyway. They pushed their way past everyone else and offered to take the whole thing off my hands for millions of groats. I'd never have to work again. If I did that, I knew it would all end up in some old blood's vault, gathering dust as an investment. I told them to fuck off. Loudly. The rest of the crowd actually cheered. The stuffed shirt that they sent looked like I had just slapped him in the face. All those years of dirty looks, all that torture at that joke of a school. I could finally throw it back at them.

“All told, it took about Seven hours to fully butcher the thing. It was exhausting. I was covered in fluids and viscera. Me and Sol cursed each other's sense of smell about halfway through. I managed to sell pretty much everything, apart from the skull, wings, lungs and digestive tract.

“You remember poor Lily from school? The sanctuary sent her to observe. I felt so sorry for her. She looked like her dog had just died and she had to watch someone butcher it for parts. I gave her the wings and the skull to take back; they had no practical use. I'm sure I could have made them into a really bitching throne for when I conquer the world, but who would carry it up the stairs?” Beryl paused, expecting a laugh, but Mina was too exhausted, and Heidi was too focused.

“It smoothed things over a little. Let the Magisterium keep up appearances.” They hooked a finger around a necklace that was dangling loosely in front of their top. “I kept a few teeth, for jewellery.” They drew two more out of a pocket and held them out to the others. “One for each of us.” Each tooth was capped with silver and looped onto a thick leather thong. “I gave a discount on the scales in return for a fitted jacket as well. Looks great huh? Sol took five jars of dragon blood and looked as happy as a kid on Christmas. Five jars of dragon blood! Enough for him to make something really special. He would have been set, just like me. Just like you. I've a pack for both of you. A real nice selection box. Some bones, some scale, couple of vials of blood.” Beryl’s shoulders dropped and their hands came up to their face. “Only now, I'm worried. If I give them to you, will you go missing too? Just like Sol?”

Heidi was indignant. “Why didn't you ask us to help?”

Beryl shrugged. “I remembered Mina retching when we had to dissect a Grindylow and thought better of it. You know that things poop when they die right?”

Heidi visibly recoiled. “Fair enough, you did the right thing.” She stood up and stretched from where they had all been perched on a step. “Fantastic story, Beryl. You're set for life, or close to it. It's rubbish though. At least the beginning part. An elder Welsh bull breaking through the wards on its own? They would have been scouring the countryside. The Sanctuaries only run on the donations from the cartels, they get to pick over everything like vultures and the rest of us get scraps. You get a tip and manage to stumble across the biggest score in living history, after less than a year as a scavenger? You need to tell us what really happened.”

Beryl had gone stony faced.

Mina gently chided them. “You owe it to Sol.”

Beryl gave Heidi a withering look. “Ice cold. That's why I didn't call you. You'd poke your nose in too far. Fine, for Sol. I did get a tip about the bull, but it hadn't gotten out yet, just that it was on its last legs. It could barely fly and had stopped eating. It was testing the wards around the outside, trying to get out. It had only a matter of days. My source even gave me a scale so I could track it and I started snooping around. It's nothing new, there are always a few scavengers around the edge of the sanctuary, trying it on.

“I bumped into a group of untalented teens in the wood. Proper little bunch of tearaways. They were looking for a place to get high or whatever, so I pointed them at one of the ward stones. As soon as they knew it was there, I knew they'd be able to find it. The rest took care of itself. A pocketknife, a can of spray paint and suddenly there is a gap in a thousand-year-old ward. Damn thing was pretty spry in the end. It had been saving its strength. Must have scared the life out of those teenagers when it shot over their heads.”

Beryl’s energy became wilder as they spoke. “The constables probably wiped their memories before they thought to question them, you know what they're like. So yeah. I let the dragon out. I thumbed my nose at the cartels and the magisters while I did it. I gave Sol the Dragon Blood, and they've probably killed him over it. It's all my fault, is that what you want me to say?” They looked like they were either going to start to cry or hit some-one.

In their time together Heidi and Beryl had some storming rows, but they couldn’t afford one now. Mina came between them. “Were not saying that! Beryl, it’s Ok. Heidi back off.” They both looked as if they only just remembered she was there. “If Sol's not here to get between you two, I will.”

Tears were welling in Beryl’s eyes, as worry and guilt won over their anger. Heidi hung her head in embarrassment.

“The worst thing is, I'd do it again,” Beryl said, their voice cracking. “I would. I couldn't have known. I couldn't. Could I?”

Mina put her arms around Beryl. “You couldn't. This is their world. You did what you always tried to do. What we all tried to do. To make it ours for a bit. They're not going to let you forget it.”

Heidi mumbled, struggling to untangle the knot that the night had made of Beryl's feelings. “Sol isn't dead. It's not your fault he’s gone. I don't know why you'd think that. Someone didn't like what you did and are getting at you through him. Or he knew there was trouble and ran, so they set the magisters on his tail. Maybe.” She paused and cracked a slight smile “You really told one of the O’Dalaighs to eff off?”

Beryl sniffed, “Yeah. One of the old ones too. Right to his rich fucking face.” They stood in silence while Beryl composed themself. “So, what do we do now?”

Heidi looked thoughtful for a moment before turning to Mina. “How much sterling do we have?”

Mina was confused, but she opened her purse and perused its contents for untalented currency. “About five pounds? No, wait, six.”

“Enough for chips?”

“Enough for chips.”

*                                  *                                  *                                  *

Fifteen minutes later, they sat at a bus stop watching the nightlife of midweek London pass them by. In their hands, they each clutched a portion of thick greasy chips seasoned to their own specifications. Mina with an unreasonable amount of salt and vinegar, Heidi’s just as they came, and Beryl’s slathered with as many packets of Ketchup as they could afford. On a cold autumn night, when everything was going wrong, there was nothing that could make you feel better than eating hot chips with friends.

A particularly loud group of untalented women wandered drunkenly along the other side of the road. They were singing with a level of enthusiasm that made the lyrics hard to discern, let alone the melody. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, nevertheless.

“Do you think we’d be like that? If we never went to Oakward?” Mina said with a hint of jealousy.

Beryl chuckled “Me maybe. You and Heidi, though? I don’t think I can picture you out drinking at 2am on a Wednesday.”

“Thank goodness” Heidi shivered with disgust as one of the women bent double and decorated the pavement with the contents of her stomach. “Looks ghastly.”

Mina realised what Beryl had said and groaned. “It’s two AM? I have work tomorrow!”

Beryl produced a pocket watch from somewhere in the depths of their jacket. “Kind of closer to three, I’m afraid.”

Mina groaned again.

Heidi spoke with her usual confidence. “Finding Sol is more important.”

“We’re out of food at home. We need to go to the bank to get more sterling and then go shopping.” Now Mina was the one in danger of getting overwhelmed.

Heidi tutted, the way she did when mundane matters intruded on her latest quest for justice, knowledge, or ideally both.

It was Beryl’s turn to be the sensible one. “You still working for Mandragora? That old softie? Explain what’s happening and I’m sure he’ll give you some time off.” They thought for a second, “maybe cry a bit?”

Heidi nodded sagely at the idea.

Mina looked at them both incredulously. “You two are awful. But that would probably work.”

Heidi turned to Beryl, “Are you going to help look for Sol?”

“Of course. I'll need to sleep this off first though. If someone has gone after Sol because of the reagents, they could be after me next. I’ve still got a good amount of dragon guts in jars at home, and I’ve attracted a lot of attention. I’ll, talk to some of my contacts, see if there are any rumours going around. I'll see you at yours tomorrow afternoon if that's ok?” They shoved a large ketchup covered chip into their mouth.

Mina wished they could all be together for all of this, but Beryl was always the most independent. “So, Heidi, what do we do?”

“We need to find out more about why the Magisterium went after Sol. Beryl, you kept receipts right?”

Their response was delayed while they finished chewing. “Of course. I'll bring them over.”

“If we can take those to a friendly constable, maybe we can argue Sol’s case a bit. Press them for some more info…”

Beryl scoffed “A friendly constable? I don’t think they exist, and I hunt unicorns for a living…”

Heidi looked over at Mina. “Well, I can think of a constable who is friendly towards one of us…”

Mina realised who she meant and was immediately tempted to bury her face in the pile of greasy chips. “Please,” she groaned, “anyone but him…”

“Unless you have any better ideas…”

Mina sighed. “I’ll send him a note, but if golden boy asks me out to dinner, I’ll disintegrate myself where I stand.”