make me harm another hair on that pretty little head of yours.” She went to pat her on the head, but Patience gripped her fingers and bent them sideways. Viper must have resisted the pain because she reacted by pressing her boot into Patience’s chest. “You’re making this very difficult on yourself.”
A figure entered the room, standing by the door. When he didn’t get their attention he stepped forward, tapped her on the shoulder and waited anxiously. She turned, her lips twisting into a look that injected terror.
“Sorry to bother you,” said the man, “it’s just that I have an awful bladder, and have come rather unprepared. Do you know where the nearest bathroom might be?”
“GRIM!”
Grim scowled. “Patience, just blow my cover why don’t you.”
“A random guy with bladder problems is hardly a cover.”
“Seriously, the people of this world lack creativity. I try to be just slightly innovative, and what do I get?”
Viper stepped off Patience, drawing her twin swords and scraping them together threateningly. Her face twisted into a smile, licking the blades so that they erupted in a green glow.
“Now this hardly seems fair.”
She jumped towards him, spun in the air and flailed the blades downwards as she flipped back onto her feet. He ducked, formed a ball of fire in his hand and tossed it towards her. She swatted it away like it was nothing, rolling around for a back kick. Grim grabbed her boot, swinging her around and throwing her towards the wall. She fell gracefully, looking up, but they were already gone.
Patience tried to keep up as they rushed along the corridor, slipping around corners almost randomly. A part of her suspected they were lost.
“How did you find me?” she said.
“Patience, in my role there is a vast amount of investigative work that I must accomplish. I am required to use skills which - may I say - I am simply the master at.”
“You followed them here, didn’t you?”
Grim shrugged. “They’re driving a minivan. It’s not exactly the hardest vehicle to follow.”
Footsteps echoed along the corridor behind them. Viper was getting closer. They sped up, passing a group of men who – like everything else here – seemed to be more like stage decoration than actual people who worked there.
She glanced backwards. Viper was close, climbing from the walls to the ceiling as she sprinted at terrible speeds towards them. Her movement was brutally efficient, even keeping up the pace as she cut through the men like ribbons.
They got outside.
“Where’s the car?” she said desperately.
Grim narrowed his eyes. “She has a name.”
“Oh come on, this is ridiculous.”
“She has feelings too.”
“NO SHE DOESN’T, she is a metal shell with an engine!”
Grim folded his arms as though there wasn’t a threat constantly making its way ever closer.
“Fine, where is Bessy?”
“This way.” He ran on, and Patience followed. The door broke open from the building behind them, and Viper spotted them straight away.
“Why didn’t you park right next to the place?”
“What? And risk getting a parking ticket. Shame on you, I wouldn’t park illegally.”
“Whatever.”
Her body was beginning to tire. She wouldn’t be able to go on for much longer. The wind was striking against her face due to the speeds they were reaching. It felt like a force resisting her.
Bessy came into sight, beautifully parked against the side of the road as though the driver had spent hours meticulously nudging it into the perfect position until he was satisfied. Probably not far from the truth in all honesty.
They climbed in. Grim started the engine. Ready to go.
Viper leaned against the front of the car, her top was stained with splashes of blood and guts, though it was unlikely to be hers.
“Stop,” she said. They did. There was a moment of silence as they waited to see if she had something valuable to say. She didn’t. Her sword pressed through the windscreen, missing Patience by a mere inch.
Grim stepped onto the pedal, ramming the front of the car into her, then reversed, spun around and flicked her off before speeding back down onto the main road.
19
THE JOURNAL
Finally, it was time. They were sat outside her Uncle Bernard’s house as they prepared to discover where the Lamina was. Now they had the key they needed, all that was left was to find out the actual location.
She was the first out the car. No longer was she constraining herself to Grim’s lead. This was her family’s house and she knew it best. So she headed in. A part of her was still haunted by everything that had gone on inside. First, her uncle was forcefully kidnapped. It was painful to imagine what he had gone through inside these very walls. Then Mercy was stolen away, probably beaten half to death. Such tragedy had taken place behind these walls, yet it still sometimes felt like more of a home that her own house did, especially recently.
“I’ll make the tea,” said Grim, scuttling away into the kitchen, allowing Patience time to get the journal from the protective barrier. “There’s no tea bags?” he cried, somehow surprised.
“Of course not,” she said, “no one lives here anymore.”
“Coffee?”
“Sure.” There was frantic movement in the kitchen as he worked, seriously, it didn’t take that much effort to make a cup of coffee. It sounded like World War Three in there.
She took the stairs up and went into the room at the end. To her, it felt like nothing passing through the protective barrier. Were it not for her knowledge, she wouldn’t have even noticed the enchantment was in place.
She looked around the study. Once again, it was in the exact same condition as it had been before. No one had entered. Which meant that Murum hadn’t gained enough strength yet to step through the barrier and retrieve the journal. This was further evidenced by the journal itself, which lay sprawled out across the floor. Clearly Mercy threw it in at the first sign of danger, as Patience had instructed her to do.
She picked it up. Her mind becoming frantic as she realised the power that was lying in her hands. She was sure that the Lamina’s location wasn’t the only secret that resided in those pages, but it was the only one that mattered at this moment.
There was a sound behind her, causing her to turn. She saw a face pressing against the door, squashed like it was being pushed into clear glass. She didn’t recognise him.
At first her surprise was filled with a sense of relief that the barrier was protecting her. But then his hand broke through, a crease appearing on the doorway as his body squeezed past the invisible wall. His face strained, and he fell out onto the other side panting.
Patience tried to compose herself. “Murum, I assume.”
He nodded. “And you must be the esteemed Patience Gillespie, and that in your hand, if I am not mistaken, is your uncle’s journal.”
“It’s nice to see that years in the vault hasn’t completely turned your brain into a scrambled egg,” she said, “at least not any more than it already was.” He went bright red as he struggled to contain his anger, like a bomb that was getting ever closer to exploding. She knew that she just had to stall him until she could think of a plan to make it past the door and to Grim, if Murum hadn’t already taken him out. The thought sent a shudder through her.
“Your wit is legendary,” said Murum, “in the land of degenerates.” He smirked.
“Look,” said Patience mockingly, “I can tell you’re new to this, you know, the making insulting jokes before you get your butt kicked. So, I’ll just pretend to find it amusing and you can go on feeling good about yourself.” Faking a chuckle, she tried to circle around him, but he stayed rooted in place.
“I was warned.”
“About what?”
“Your tendency to annoy people just by talking.”
??
?It’s been said.”
Without warning he shot forward, lowering his head and using his entire body weight to create momentum as he charged in her direction. She was reminded of what Grim said about the vault holding the worst of the worst in terms of criminals, this guy would surely be able to beat a teenage girl.
His attacks weren’t the flailing swings that she was used too. He was calm and calculated, clearly with at least some martial arts training.
He caught her punch mid swing, brought his elbow down onto her joint and then twisted it so that she fell to the floor. The journal slipped from her grasp and rolled across the carpet. She crawled for a few inches and reached for it, but his fist came down on her fingers. He held it there for a few seconds until she was almost certain that they had broken, then he flicked his boot up into her face. She felt the colour drain from her, as blood trickled down her face.
Grim appeared at the edge of the barrier. He dropped the tea and began to bash his fist against it, causing a sound like the ringing of vibrating glass. Murum stood up straight with the journal resting in his palm, and straightened his jacket.
For a moment she thought he was going to open it and browse the pages, but he simply pocketed it beneath his clothes and dived through the wall behind him, leading outside.
Patience felt all her strength drain as she committed herself to getting back onto her feet. She stumbled forwards, unable to move the fingers in her right hand, or feel her other arm due to numbness. It didn’t stop her performing magic. The fingers of her left hand splayed out and the window collapsed in on itself, then she