Chapter 89 Business.

The night had grown deeper as Ava and Slade made their way to one of the, comparatively, more affluent sections of East Under.

It always amazed Ava the differences a few streets could make.

The buildings were less crowded, less derelict, and less on the verge of falling over.

Not far lay the merchant district, which explained much.

The flat they sought was, in fact, above a shop.

Below was a tailor’s business, closed for the evening.

Through a side street they found a set of stairs climbing to the second level and the waiting door.

Ava touched the handle, tried it, and to her surprise, it turned slowly.

Slade growled, reaching back and slowly drawing his sword. "I’ll go first," he told the elf.

Ava nodded and stepped back, letting the hulking man open the door and ease inside.

She followed close behind, slipping in and shutting the door behind her.

It was dark within that room, lit only by the low glow of a candelabra set on a nearby table.

The scent of the candles was thick and cloying, and only dimly illuminated the interior.

And it was a mess.

Ava knew that wizards were often cluttered, their rooms taking on the eccentric lunacy of their minds as they delved deeper into their sorceries, but this was ridiculous.

Tomes were tossed haphazardly all over the room, their pages ripped and scattered like leaves in autumn.

Curtains had been shredded by claws.

A rug had been thrown back up against the wall and entire bookcases had been overturned, spilling their contents onto the floor.

"Wow," Ava said. "What happened here?"

Slade sniffed the air. "I smell blood," he growled.

Ava looked around, her eyes finally landing on a pair of boots sticking out from behind the desk. "Oh," the elf said weakly.

The candles suddenly went out.

Something screamed.

A sound that stabbed Ava’s ears like nails.

Slade roared, shoving her down, his hand already transforming into claws.

Ava hit the ground with a yelp, feeling something flutter over her head.

Snarls and howls rocked the room.

She rolled over, her night vision adjusting quickly to see Slade’s wolfen bulk struggling with something huge and winged.

Fangs and steel flashed.

The warrior’s sword was dropped, useless in such quarters.

The two slammed back against a bookcase.

Slade howled and lunged forward, biting down hard onto the thing’s shoulder.

Again that piercing scream, this time in pain.

The creature grabbed Slade’s head and smashed it again and again into the bookcase behind them, loosening the wolf’s jaw, dazing him.

In that instant of weakness, the monster tore itself free of his grasp.

The creature whirled, red eyes flashing.

It bounded over Ava and leaped across the room.

It hurled itself through the window, the glass shattering around it.

Ava gasped, scrambled to her feet and raced after it, poking her head into the night and looking wildly down.

Nothing.

The street was empty below but for the scattered shards of glass.

She raised her head, just in time to see something large and dark flash among the chimneys of the far roof, vanishing over the edge and away into the dark and smog.

A groan had her turn back sharply.

Faint light from the streets bled into the room to reveal Slade in his wolf form, laying among the ruins of a bookcase.

Ava gasped and rushed to the wulfen’s side.

"Slade! Are you okay?"

"I’m alright," the werewolf grunted, looking around. "Did it get away?"

"Uh huh. I saw it flap over the rooftops," Ava said.

Slade cursed, rubbing his muzzle with a hand. "Damn," he growled.

Ava patted the werewolf, then looked about the room.

Her eyes were drawn almost magnetically to where she had been laying, and where a large black book sat.

Something drew her to it, and Ava squatted down and picked it up.

Something was strange about the book.

Like a texture of the cover was off.

"Guess our wizard won’t be of much help," Slade grunted, looking at the projecting feet.

He glanced back towards Ava and saw her turning the book over in her hands. "What’s that?"

"I dunno," Ava said. "But I think the vampire dropped it."

"Yeah?" Slade said, loping over. "Why?"

"Not sure," Ava said, leafing through the pages.

Again she felt the texture of the pages, a feeling that thrummed subtly like currents of electricity ran beneath the pages. "But I think this is what it was looking for."

"You think so? Why?"

"My reporter’s instincts tell me so," Ava said, nodding to herself. "I think this is important. It’s magic."

"Not exactly surprising, given it was owned by a wizard," Slade observed.

He bent over, picking back up his sword and eying the broken window grimly.

"Maybe. But one way to be sure," Ava said.

---

"You know," Ireen Igral said. "Some people spend their nights sleeping. You should try it some time, Ava. It’s actually quite soothing."

Ava blushed, fidgeting.

She and Slade stood just outside the backdoor of the Wizard’s Knob, and had just spent the last ten minutes hammering on it until it opened, revealing the witch dressed in a loose sleeping robe that slipped off her shoulders constantly.

Ireen tapped a fuzzy slipper in impatience, arms crossed before her chest, blocking the way inside as she looked at the pair.

She was pretty in that perpetually tired and frazzled look of people who have more to do in the day than there are hours.

"Sorry, Ireen," Ava said. "But this is important!"

"When is it not?" the witch said tartly, but sighed and waved them in. "Well, come on. I’m up now, anyway..."

Ava sighed in relief and hurried inside, the black book clasped tightly to her chest.

The Wizard’s Knob was like many magic shops in the district, but none were like the Wizard’s Knob.

In the gloomy back room herbs were strung about the ceiling to dry and filled the air with a medley of scents.

Shelves loaded with carefully labeled regents surrounded them and workbenches were tidily arranged with projects half finished.

Ireen leaned against one of the tables, arms crossed. "So, what do you have for me?"

Ava held the book out.

Ireen’s eyes widened. "Gimme!" she said, snatching it from Ava’s hands.

She flipped it open, eyes darting across the page. "Ooooo! An occultatum librum! It’s a cyphertome. Looks like it’s written in one of the runes of deception, one of the nine languages of the abyss. I haven’t seen a book like this since... jeez, it must have been that gluttony demon’s estate sale."

"You can read it?" asked Slade.

Ireen waved her hand dismissively. "Simple abyssal runes, sure. But this is a cypher. We’re talking primo accursed language here. A human mind could never comprehend runes like this without going insane."

Ireen glanced over at Slade and then returned her eager attention to the book. "Who’s the hunk, Ava?"

"Maxwell Slade, vampire hunter," Slade said, snapping his heels and bowing sharply.

"Mmhmmm," Ireen gave him another look that traveled up and down his muscular frame. "Isn’t that illegal these days?"

"He’s my bodyguard," Ava said. "But I’m in hot water, Ireen, and I need to know what’s in that book. I think it might give me a clue I need."

"Well, I was planning on napping another four hours. I do need my beauty sleep, you know. Buuuut, I guess I can do something," Ireen said. "I can’t translate the book, but I can get some help from someone... or something... that can."

"Something?" Slade raised a thick eyebrow. "Ava, I don’t like the sound of that."