relative ease, bouncing up to land a counter strike. Mercy was ready for it, as she’d seen similar moves dozens of times before. But it was executed with much more vigour than her experience had taught her, only just allowing her to escape unscathed.
Damn. She’s fast.
All through the fight, Mercy kept her eyes fixed upon the glowing green swords. Each time they came whizzing towards her she did her utmost to get out of their reach. Just one cut with that could be enough to grant her a slow death. At one point, one of Viper’s controlled slashes slid past the front of Mercy’s trousers, causing the fabric to part but not creating any exterior wounds. She sighed with relief as she wiped the sweat from her brow.
The fight seemed to go on for an age, with neither of them sustaining any injuries. It was only after Mercy tossed a TV at Viper that she lost her footing, which was enough for Viper to take advantage of.
She sprung into the air, running seemingly vertically across the roof as she clambered down to kick Mercy around the face, sending her sprawling out across the floor.
Mercy tried to gather her breath but she was winded, and found her breathing becoming uncontrolled and sporadic. There wasn’t even enough time to look up before Viper grabbed her, throwing her into the wall and warping closer with a knee to the spleen. After taking an elbow around the cheek, Mercy’s body sagged and she spat blood through her cracked teeth. Nothing that wouldn’t heal – if she wasn’t killed, that is.
Viper wrapped her leg around the back of her ankle and – like an expert wrestler – tossed her to the ground with a force that seemed to rattle the entire foundations of the house. She kicked dust into her face and squatted to the same level as her.
“I’m disappointed,” said Viper, “very much indeed. I should probably kill you right here, maybe nick you with one of my little blades and leave you to die a slow and painful death. But.... my boss expects some kind of result, and I think you might prove to be useful to us. Even if you don’t know anything, you will make a good bargaining chip, and it will at least stall my boss until I get actual results.”
Mercy tried to smile through her beaten face, though her bruised cheeks would hardly move. “Looks like we’re going on a little trip then. I’m glad, would have hated to have your ugly face as the last thing I ever see.” With that, she fell limply to the side, her eyes closed as she faded into darkness.
No doubt they would interrogate her, she was trained for that. But maybe she wouldn’t be prepared for what they had in store for her. She had never carried such sensitive information.
Mercy knew where the Lamina was, and she would do anything to stop Mr Big, or that crazy woman getting their hands on that information. Even if she had to take it to her grave.
10
IVIS MONTAGUE
Bessy rattled along the road. Rain had begun to fall, making the ground glisten with a beautiful glow.
Patience would have been in awe of it, but was too distracted.
“Do you think Mercy will be okay?” she asked. Grim was concentrating on the road, though she had a sneaky suspicion that he had been thinking the very same thing.
“I expect so,” he said, “she doesn’t possess the level of skills that I do, but she is quite good, you know?”
“You’re so annoying….. but yeah, I hope so.” She sat in silence for a little while, something she very rarely got while spending time with Grim. Resting her head on her palm and gazing out the window as the dark clouds moved further away, freeing them from the downpour.
Her mind soon left Mercy and returned to her uncle. At this point she wasn’t feeling confident about his survival, he had simply been gone too long. By now his uses would have depleted, so he would just be an extra mouth to feed.
The only thing they could do was progress with what they were already doing, attempting to find Mr Big.
“So this, Ivis Montague, bloke,” she started.
“What about him?”
“Well brief me about him, tell me what he is like. How to act around him.”
“You young people can never settle for a good old fashioned surprise. Fine. Ivis is an informant of ours.
Six years ago he was caught trespassing in an extremely embarrassing place, and since then has been bribed with freedom, if he provides us with information. He isn’t the most reliable of people, but he has a good amount of knowledge about the streets.”
Patience played with the rotating window lever. “Why is he so unreliable?”
“He has always been a little paranoid,” said Grim, “actually that’s putting it lightly. He is known for being slightly unhinged, and that makes him untrusting and sometimes even dangerous.”
“You know it just sounds like you’re describing yourself here.”
Grim smiled. “It has been known for me to talk about myself.”
“Really?” she laughed, “I hadn’t noticed.”
“You know they say that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,” he said, “and not very becoming for a young girl, such as yourself.”
She tossed him a glance. “At least it’s more wit than you ever show – which is none.”
“Woah, I have feelings too you know. This is going beyond teasing chatter, and becoming discrimination.”
“Discrimination?”
“Yes, you are discriminating against people who are infinitely smarter and better looking than you.”
“I give up,” she said, “think I’ll just sit up here on the moral high ground and look down at you like a little ant-y speck.” Even Grim stifled a laugh, but didn’t reply. How unusual. He was never able to keep quiet, especially when the conversation was gearing towards him. Maybe he really did have something on his mind, he had feelings too, after all.
They pulled up outside an ordinary house in a mortal cul-de-sac. It seemed quite secluded but there were distinctive sounds of the motorway in the distance. The streets were very quiet and most of the neighbours had their curtains pulled back so she couldn’t see inside, this house was no different.
“Is this where he lives?” asked Patience, “looks kinda…. normal.”
Grim grunted in agreement. “Exactly, not the first place you’d look for a sorcerer, is it? Ivis has this strange perception that the whole world is out to get him. Quite literally, he even goes out in disguises when in public. Fit with a fake identity and terrible accent. Trust me when I say, he is no fun to go clubbing with. Not that he needs a disguise.”
“Since when did you go clubbing?”
He shrugged. “I was young once too, a very long time ago.”
“You make museums seem young.” He sighed, shaking his head and not dignifying her dig with a reply.
He was getting used to it, and she was enjoying insulting him for once. She had to find a way to entertain herself on the long drives, after all.
They knocked on the door, and it was opened straight away. Patience had the feeling that he had watched them coming all the way up the drive. The door was still sealed by a metal chain on the inside, but Ivis poked his eyes through the small gap.
“Whatcha want?” he growled. His face was thin, and his dark hair seemed to blend in with the dark room behind him. He was like a human chameleon, then she realised that was his power. His hair literally resembled the colour of the back wall, he could camouflage to the point of being almost invisible.
“We wanted to speak to you,” said Grim, “we heard you might have seen something that could be useful to us, or know of someone.”
“Don’t know nothing,” he said, “now get lost. How did you even find me here?”
Grim turned to Patience. “Ivis doesn’t live here. He moves from one mortal house to another while they are away, he thinks that it keeps him off the radar.” He looked back at Ivis. “You don’t think we keep track of you? We always know where you are Ivis.”
“How?”
“This is a world of magic where literally anything is possible, don’t you think we can fin
d some lowlife, such as yourself.”
A flicker of annoyance spread across his face, but then it settled and he unlocked the chain, letting them step in.
“You weren’t followed, were you?” he said, his voice hurried as his tone sprinted across the words in one single-breathed swoop.
Grim shrugged. “Probably not.”
“Well maybe you should be certain,” said Ivis.
“Maybe you should let us through,” said Grim, “otherwise I’ll kick down this damn door.” Ivis thought for a moment, then bowed his head and stood aside. It has come from nowhere. Patience had never seen Grim react like this, maybe he wasn’t as peaceful as she had thought before. But once they were in the house, his face softened and he looked less angry.
They made their way through the house and into the living room. Patience circled the edges of the room.
On the shelf was a picture of a family, it looked like a professional photo shoot where the parents stood in the middle with one girl holding her mother’s hand, and their son riding on the shoulder of his father. It brought a smile to her face, which she quickly hid. It had only just occurred to her how much she was missing her parents over the last few days.
In her mind, Patience had devised the plan of good-cop bad-cop. Grim was to be good-cop and she was to be bad-cop, simply because it would be more fun. But after seeing how he entered, maybe their roles should be reversed.
“Anyone want a tea or coffee?” said Ivis, standing in the kitchen which was built off from the living room.
Grim scowled.