Chapter Text
Due to his friendship with Nicholas D. Bryson, this wasn't the first time William Grye had been to the Society for Arcane Sciences. This was, however, the first time that he had come there at night, to return a book that Bryson had lent him. He looked up at the front doors to the Society, and took a deep breath. Then he opened the door.
The main hall of the Society always managed to make him gape with wonder at the various mad science paraphernalia that had been placed there. He glanced about at everything, and then spotted Bryson exiting one of the rooms. Grye turned towards him, and called him.
“Oh, Grye!” Bryson said. “What brings you here on this fine night?”
“I just wanted to return this book to you,” Grye said, taking said book out of his coat. “I really couldn't put it down. Who knew science fiction was so good nowadays?”
Bryson laughed a bit. “It is indeed going to be a classic,” he said, taking it from Grye. “However, I can't stay to chat for long. I'm going to the Necromancer's Ball.”
“At the Blackfog Bazaar?”
“Indeed. Are you going, as well?”
“Well, no.” Grye shook his head. “Necromancy isn't really something I'm interested in.”
He rolled his eyes. “You should really try necromancy. How can you say you know everything about mad science otherwise?”
“I do know things about necromancy. It's just not one of my interests.”
“You're a bore.”
Grye waved a hand. “Alright. Have fun, Bryson.”
Bryson waved to him as well, and then went on his way, towards the main hall. Grye sighed, and then looked about the foyer. He somehow wished he could see the building in its entirety, but he had only ever been here to visit Bryson and see how he was doing. Oh well. He had better get going.
He was about to go on his way as well when he saw someone crouched down behind one of the displays, looking this way and that way. He blinked, and then tilted his head. It was probably none of his business, but...
“Ma'am?” he asked.
She jumped, and then turned around to look at him. It was then that he noticed how odd she looked – her blonde hair was in a loose ponytail, and she was wearing a fur coat and trousers. Quite odd for someone living in London. She seemed to tense a little as she stared at him, and he cleared his throat.
“May I ask what you're doing there?” he asked.
“No, you may not.” She said bluntly in a German accent. She then shushed him, and then turned back to looking around the main hall. Some of the Lodgers of the Society walked around, but no one seemed to spot her. Strange. She then turned back to him.
“You are not one of the Lodgers,” she said.
“I'm...not,” he told her. “I'm only visiting.”
She nodded, before pushing her glasses up her nose. “I did not think anyone would want to visit this place.”
“Well, why not?” he asked. “This place is wonderful.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You think this place is wonderful?” Then she shook her head. “Whatever. I have to get out of here.”
“Uh...alright.” He nodded. “Are you one of the Lodgers?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“Getting out.”
“Uh...”
She shushed him again. And then sprinted over to another display, hiding behind it as well. He watched her get closer and closer to the main door, before he put his hands in his pockets and walked over to her.
“Ma'am,” he said, “do you want me to take you to the door?”
She squinted at him. “...Will you?”
“I think I will,” he said. She seemed rather eccentric, not even being a Lodger and making a big deal out of going out, but he was willing to help her...he guessed.
She grinned a little. “Great.” She then stood straighter up. “Walk with me towards the front door.”
“...Alright.”
She then stood closely to him, and began walking towards the front door. He followed closely by, looking around. How was no one noticing them? It must've been some trick of a higher power, if he believed in such things.
Before he knew it, they exited the Society, and he closed the door behind them. In front of him, the woman stretched, and then took a deep breath. Then she scowled.
“Sickening air,” she said, before heading down the steps. He wondered what she meant by that, but supposed it was none of his business. He then walked down the stairs as well, and was about to walk away when he heard her voice.
“...Sir,” she said, a little curtly. “What was that place you mentioned to that Lodger? Something about a necromancer?”
He turned towards her again. “You were eavesdropping on us?”
“How could I not? You were standing right by my hiding place.”
“Right.”
“No, no, let's not stay here.” She grabbed his arm, and then began to walk in the direction that he was about to go. “Keep walking.”
He wondered why she was being so strange. Was she just a crazy old woman? Then again, he had no right to judge her. Some would say he was a crazy old man himself. So he kept walking with her, and they were a building past the Society until she spoke again.
“You aren't answering my question,” she said.
“Huh?” he asked. “Oh, right. The place I was mentioning was the Blackfog Bazaar. They're holding a Necromancer's Ball tonight.”
“Hmm.” She tapped her finger against her chin. He realized she was wearing gloves, too – not unusual, but combined with her fur coat and scarf, she was certainly overdressed. Not breaking her gait, she glanced up at him for a second.
“Have you been to this Blackfog Bazaar?” she asked.
“Yes, I–” He stopped. Suddenly he realized he shouldn't have said that. While mad science was a passion of his, Blackfog was illegal. He glanced down at her, pausing.
She nudged him. “Keep walking!” she hissed.
“R-right,” Grye said. Suddenly he felt as if he was in a bad situation. But he guessed if she was being too troublesome, he could return her to the Society. They weren't that far away yet.
“You were saying you've been to this Blackfog,” she went on, as they turned a corner. “What is it, exactly?”
“Well,” he cleared his throat, before continuing, “it's a travelling bazaar where you can get all sorts of science contraband.”
“Science contraband? As in mad science contraband?”
“What else?”
She began to grin, her glasses flashing eerily in the light of the full moon. He gulped.
“Take me there,” she commanded.
“What? You want to–?”
“That was not a question,” she told him. “I need you to take me there. Call a carriage or something.”
“If I call a carriage, and ask the driver to take us straight to Blackfog, they might refuse,” Grye told her. “If you want to go, we're walking. It's not even that far away.”
She seemed to consider it, before nodding. “Alright. I see. Then we are walking.”
He sighed. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to help her out after all. But then again...this didn't seem too bad, if she wasn't supposed to be in the Society building in the first place. He looked down at her.
“Ma'am,” he said, “what's your name?”
“I do not need to tell you my name,” she said.
“Blackfog can be a dangerous place, ma'am,” he said. “I can take care of myself, but I'd like to make sure you're safe. And part of that means I have to know your name.”
“Being chivalrous, are we?” she asked. “You do not need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“If you could, then you wouldn't have asked me for my help when you were leaving the Society.”
“I did not ask, you offered.”
“And you accepted.”
She huffed. “Whatever.”
“And besides...you were sneaking out, weren't you?” he asked. “You weren't supposed to be there, and didn't need to be seen. And you're walking quickly away so you won't be noticed."
She looked up at him again. And then she sighed. “Seems I was quite obvious,” she said. “Though you look as dumb as a rock.” Then she turned towards the path in front of them. “My name is...Victoria.”
“Victoria?” He chuckled. “As in the queen?”
“Why would you think I was named after a queen?”
He shrugged. Then he looked down at her. “My name is Dr. William Grye,” he said. “I'm pleased to meet you.”
“Sure you are,” she said sarcastically.
This...was going to be a long walk.
By the time they reached Blackfog, Grye was sure he could feel his old bones creaking. He certainly wasn't as fit as he used to be, and she seemed the same, looking quite out of breath. It was in the light of the Bazaar that he noticed she was quite pale.
“Are you alright, Miss Victoria?” he asked.
“I am fine,” she said, waving a hand. Then she straightened up. “So this is the Bazaar?”
“It would seem so,” he said.
They both walked inside for a little while, before she turned to him. “You really are not going to leave me alone, are you?”
“Not until you finish your business here, and I can take you home,” Grye said.
She huffed. “Who needs a home?”
“...You're homeless?”
“What? That is not what I was implying.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” he said, turning to face her, but still holding on to her sleeve. “You can stay with me when you're done here.”
She stared at him – he recognized it as an absolutely baffled expression. Then she cleared her throat, and the haughty look returned on her face. “Fine,” she said. “Just try not to cause any trouble for me.”
“I'll try not to,” he agreed.
And with that, the two of them headed into the Bazaar, looking around at everything. There were all manners of mad scientists, mad science enthusiasts, troublemakers, and simply interested parties gathered in Blackfog that night, and the whole scene was brightly lit. Victoria led the way as they walked through the various tents and stalls, looking around. Grye could swear he saw something shining in her eyes.
“This place is much better than the Society,” she commented. “All sorts of scientific contraband here, you say? This is the spirit of mad science that I am looking for!”
He tried to grin, following after her as fast as he could. “You really must love mad science, huh, Miss Victoria?”
She glanced at him. “I do not just love mad science. It is my very soul, my very being!”
“Is that why you asked me to take you here?”
“Well–” she hesitated, her eyes darting away, “–yes.”
He continued to stare after her, even as she went on her way, and he held on to her sleeve. If he didn't know better, it would seem she was trying to shake him off. But he wouldn't allow that to happen – she already seemed to be getting out of breath again, and her pallor became even more obvious in this light.
They went deeper and deeper into Blackfog, until they reached a small tent in the middle of the crowd, and Victoria stopped at the entrance. She peeked inside, and Grye looked over her shoulder as well.
There was a woman standing behind a table, possibly the owner of the booth, looking over bottles filled with liquids and insects, various plants, and stones. The most striking thing about her was not these materials, or her clothing that was decidedly not very European, but instead the large bat wings that were protruding from her back. Victoria looked surprised, and Grye figured the same look was on his face as well.
She looked over her shoulder, and saw them in the entrance, before grinning – a large sharp-toothed grin. She turned at an unnatural degree – and Grye only had a second to realize her waist was not connected to any legs before she flew towards them.
“Kamusta?” she asked as she flew into their faces.
Both he and Victoria flinched, and she cackled. Then she flew backwards a little. “I'm sorry, I always do that to potential customers. It's to see if they've got guts.”
“I think you will learn that I have plenty of guts to spare,” Victoria said, putting on a brave face.
“That's what I like to hear,” the woman said. (Actually, Grye wasn't sure at this point if she was a human woman.) “The name's Catalina Maningning. I'm Blackfog's resident mangkukulam. And resident manananggal.”
“You're not from England, are you?” Grye asked.
“Always the first thing people ask me,” Catalina said. “I'm from the Philippine Islands.”
“You speak very good English,” he said.
“Thank you.” She grinned widely, and then looked at Victoria, whose eyes were on her waist – from which nothing else was below. She then put a hand to Victoria's chin, and raised it to her face.
“My eyes are up here,” she said.
“R-right,” Victoria said, clearly unnerved.
“Are you in search for spells?” she asked. “I can do it all – if someone is causing you harm, I can harm them right back! I can make you a love potion, I can even defend you from supernatural harm.”
Grye waved his hands. “Oh, we aren't here to–”
“Doctor, I think it's worth looking around a little,” Victoria said suddenly. He looked down at her, and she walked into the stall, looking around. Grye looked around, and then went inside after her.
The presence of smoke suddenly became known to him, and he squinted a little, trying to fan it away from his face. He suddenly didn't know what he was getting into, but he wasn't going to let Victoria do anything reckless. Even if he barely knew her. She just seemed like the type to do such a thing.
Catalina came in after them, and glided over to the table that she had been fussing over. She then turned towards them, folding her arms. “So, see anything you like?” she asked.
Victoria was glancing over the insects, and raised her eyebrows. “I am not interested in anything in particular, but I think this is all very interesting,” she said.
Grye looked around, and then his eyes fell on a book which was lying open on the table. It was full of words he couldn't read, and he tilted his head as he looked down at it. “What's that?” he asked, pointing down at it, and looking up at Catalina.
“That's my personal notebook of spells,” she said, flying over to him and putting a hand on it. “I'd say you've got an eye, though. That spell's for finding out who or what cursed you.”
“Heh, well,” Victoria said, “I've got a curse, I might say.”
“A curse?” She flew up to her. “What kind of curse?”
“It's more of a sickness than a curse, but–”
“You're sick?” Grye asked. “What are you doing here, then?!”
“I do not need to answer that,” Victoria said. “But yes, I am ill. Do you have any cure for that?”
“Hmm.” Catalina put a finger to her chin. She looked Victoria over as she continued, “First, we'll find out what ails you, whether it is the work of a curse or something else. Of course, lots of people find lots of explanations for an ailment, but I prefer to take the supernatural route.”
“I see,” Victoria said. “So what are you going to do?”
She returned to her table. “I'm going to light a few candles, and you're going to put your hands in a bowl of blessed water. I'm going to see what appears in the water when I say an oration for you.”
“Sounds straightforward enough,” Victoria said, raising her eyebrows.
Grye folded his arms, and then watched Catalina while she prepared the necessary things. He wondered if this was the right thing to do, if this was actually going to work, and if they were going to have to pay for this. But he decided to leave it for a while as he watched them do the procedure.
In the candlelight, as Victoria put her hands in the water, Catalina began to chant something – oddly enough, something that sounded like it was in Spanish. Grye watched curiously from a distance, until something began to appear in the water.
The three of them looked into the water, at something that had begun to appear above Victoria's hands, and she gasped. Catalina held her hands down. Grye watched for only a few seconds before he could see why.
Even in the dim candlelight, he could see that what had appeared on the water was the dark red bloom of blood.
“What...what does that mean?” Victoria asked.
“It looks as if you've been cursed by a higher power,” Catalina said. “And not only that. You've been cursed because you've blood on your hands.”
Victoria turned even paler than before. She seemed to freeze, before looking up at Catalina.
“That-that cannot be true,” she said. “I refuse to believe it.”
“Refuse to believe it if you will,” Catalina said, releasing her hands. “But the way I see it, you are being punished for your sins.”
Grye looked at Victoria, who lifted her hands out of the water. It was as if nothing happened – there was no blood there. She swallowed, and then a grin appeared on her face. And a laugh erupted from her, then another, and another.
“You are right,” she said. “I do not have to believe you if I do not want to. What did I even do this for? Right, the cure. What do I have to do to cure this, if I am indeed being cursed?”
“You'll have to make an offering to the gods. You've offended the gods themselves; not much I can do on my part,” Catalina said.
“Heh, right!” Victoria said. “Like I believe in gods or anything of the sort!” She then turned on her heel. “I'm leaving!”
“Sure, but you have to pay me first for my service,” Catalina said, deadpan.
Victoria seemed as if she was about to walk out of the tent anyway, when she froze on her way to the entrance. She lurched, and then something dripped out of her mouth.
Again, it was blood.
“Miss Victoria!” Grye rushed over to her. She stared down at the blood flowing out of her lips, and she gagged again – more blood came out. Catalina rushed over as well, and they both brought Victoria over to a chair.
“Are you alright?” Grye asked as they seated her. He brought out a handkerchief, and began to gently wipe the blood from her mouth.
“Ugh – of course I'm not fine,” she said. She watched him while he wiped the blood from her mouth, and she fell silent for a moment. Once he was done, he looked into her eyes for a moment, and he paused. That look in her eyes seemed like...terror.
Victoria then looked up at Catalina. “What – what was that? What did you do?”
“I didn't do anything,” Catalina said. “Is that your illness? It looks like a right bout of consumption.”
“It's not consumption,” Victoria insisted. “And I do not see why you two are fussing over me. I'm not that ill.”
“Right, and my lower half isn't severed from my body,” Catalina deadpanned. “Listen, make your offering, and everything will be alright. Just give up something that you think will please the gods.”
“Like there's anything that will please any god nowadays!”
Grye looked at Catalina. “I think I'll take her home now. Thank you for your help.”
“I appreciate it, though I'd appreciate it more if you paid up,” Catalina said.
“What?” Victoria asked, while Grye took out his wallet. “I am not done at Blackfog yet – I have to find certain ingredients.”
“Ingredients?” Grye asked, without turning towards her. He sorted out a bit of money, and gave it to Catalina. “What kind of ingredients?”
“For something that might cure me,” Victoria said.
“What am I, chopped liver?” Catalina asked.
“Listen, I think at this moment, the thing that will cure you is some bed rest,” Grye said, turning towards her. “Or at least, you should get yourself to rest. I noticed that you were really pale and out of breath the past hour.”
“So what?” Victoria asked. “It's nothing.”
Catalina flew forward, and pressed the back of her hand against Victoria's forehead. She then pulled her hand back, her eyebrows raised.
“You have a bad fever,” she said. “You must really have angered the gods.”
“Again with this talk–”
“You definitely need to rest!”
Victoria pushed Grye away, and then she stood up from the seat. “I can take care of myself!” she exclaimed.
“There's a stain on the ground that says otherwise,” Catalina said. “Ma'am, take your friend's advice, at least. If you don't do anything to rest, then you won't be able to take anyone's cures.”
“Hmph.” Victoria walked forward towards the opening of the tent, and then went outside. Grye and Catalina shared a look, and then he hurried after her.
When Grye exited the tent, Victoria was hurrying away in the direction of the shops. He spotted her, and then ran after her as fast as he could.
“Miss Victoria!” he called. “Miss Victoria!”
After a few seconds, he finally caught up to her, and he grabbed her shoulder. “There you are,” he said, turning her towards him. “Don't stray so far, you might get lost.”
She looked up at him, and then down at the hand on her shoulder. “Why do you insist on following me?” she asked.
“Isn't that what I'm supposed to do if I'm concerned about you?” he asked.
“...Concerned about me?”
“Yes.”
She put a hand to her head. Then she took a deep breath. “I must be having trouble processing this.”
“I think you're having trouble breathing,” Grye pointed out. “We really have to go. If you want, I'll get the ingredients for you tomorrow. Or an offering. Whichever one you want.”
She swayed a little, and he put both his hands on her shoulders. Her head lolled over. She put a hand to her mouth, and choked a bit, before swallowing. He hoped it wasn't another round of blood.
“Miss Victoria?”
She inhaled, and then exhaled. “...Fine,” she said. “I'll go with you."