Iron and Magic

Hugh made a low noise in his throat. If humans could growl, it would sound just like that.

She gave him a sweet smile. Any sweeter and you could spread it on toast. “Use your words.”

“I didn’t tell you because it didn’t occur to me that you would be that dense.”

“So you expected me to think clearly after having killed fourteen mysterious monsters and have three men run at me with swords? Did it ever occur to you that I might have been too focused on killing them?”

“And,” Hugh continued, “because I still had the third guy.”

“That wasn’t me. That was your dog. I’m not responsible for the actions of your loyal hound.”

“He isn’t my dog.”

She pointed at Cedric. “Tell him that.”

Hugh turned his head. Cedric took it as a sign that it was okay to run into the room and stick his head into Hugh’s lap. Hugh looked like he wanted to kill something. Or someone. Preferably her.

“See, even Cedric decided you needed help.”

Hugh raised his hand and patted the dog. “Did you want something?” he asked Felix.

“We retrieved the bodies,” Felix said.

Hugh got up. “Would love to stay and play doctor, love, but duty calls.” He headed for the door.

Play doctor? “Jackass.”

“Harpy.”

“Thank you for saving me in the woods,” she said to his back. “And for healing Alex.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you downstairs in ten minutes.

He left.

A moment later Rook slipped into her room and held out his writing pad.

Hugh needed help?

“No,” Elara said. “He was terrifying.”

10

The beast stretched about five feet ten inches on the shiny metal surface of the autopsy table. Fine brown hair, more like the coat of a horse than the fur of a dog, sheathed it. It thickened on the backs of its arms and at its crotch. Hard, ropy muscle wrapped its skeleton. It was likely incredibly strong, Hugh decided. Elongated digits, both toes and fingers, were sturdy and tipped with triangular, hook-like claws. No tail. Big ears with tufts of fur on the ends.

The face was a nightmarish mess. The eyes, human enough in shape, were unnaturally large, almost owl-like, surrounded by deep wrinkles, as if they pushed aside the flesh around them to make room. A short snout replaced the nose. Its upper lip split like that of a cat or a dog. The mouth slashed across its face, too wide to be human. Surgical clamps pulled the lips open on the right side, displaying long, conical fangs.

Next to Hugh, Felix grimaced. Hugh glanced at him. Felix waved his hand in front of his face. The stench. Right. The bitter harsh scent had to be hell on the shapeshifter nose. Bale, on the other hand, appeared to be completely unbothered. He had taken these two with him. Stoyan and Lamar manned the wall.

Elara had brought Savannah, Dugas, and Johanna. They stood on the other side of the table. The head witch wrinkled her face in disgust. Dugas appeared thoughtful.

They were in a large laboratory in the basement of the main tower. Three groups of people clustered around three tables. The first table, where he stood, supported the autopsied body of a beast, the second offered a similarly cut open warrior, and the third, where the smiths quietly argued with each other, held pieces of the warrior’s armor.

Hugh had to give it to Elara. Her people were efficient and well-trained, and their work spaces were always in good order, no matter if it was a pottery shop or an infirmary room.

The coroner, an older man with brown skin and sharp dark eyes, folded his hands together.

“It used to be human,” the coroner said.

Elara raised her hands and signed for Johanna.

Hugh examined the internal organs. Heart, liver, lungs. All the usual suspects. Some of the organs were deformed, but still appeared functional.

“How to explain this,” the coroner began, clearly trying to come up with a dumbed-down version. “Umm. Well, to simplify…”

“The orthograde spine,” Hugh told him. “None of the other bipedal vertebrates show the same adaptation. Penguins stand erect, but their biomechanics are completely different. The other upright vertebrates, ostriches, kangaroos, and so on, do not exhibit an orthograde spine during locomotion. The S curve of the spine with lumbar lordosis is unique to humans. Other primates show a C curve.”

He moved his hand to indicate the hip. “The examination of the femur head will likely indicate large femur size and valgus angle typical to humans.” He moved his hand further to the foot. “Evidence of longitudinal arches. Even though there is hallux opposability, the structure of the foot indicates adaptation to bipedal locomotion. There is no reason for a predatory simian animal to exhibit these characteristics.”

Silence fell.

“He’s a healer, Saladin,” Elara said quietly, then signed it.

“Well, this simplifies things,” Saladin said.

“Hallux whatchamacall it?” Bale asked.

“Opposable big toe,” Saladin translated. “Like in an ape.”

“They’re good climbers,” Dugas said.

Felix leaned forward, examining the feet. “And good runners. Calluses.”

“So they’re like cave people,” Bale said.

Everyone looked at him.

“Hairy, strong, stupid. Troglodytes.” Bale looked around. “What? We have to call them something.”

He was right.

Johanna finger-spelled something he didn’t catch. Hugh turned to Elara. “What did she say?”

Johanna stomped her foot and moved her fingers slowly.

“Mrogs?” he asked.

Elara grimaced. “Yes.”

“What’s a mrog?” Stoyan asked.

“A scary magic monster who lives in darkness,” Dugas said. “It’s a story we tell children to warn them away from dangerous magic they don’t understand. Most children have an instinct when it comes to magic. They know when things don’t feel right. Those who don’t listen to that instinct know that mrogs are waiting in the darkness for those who cross the line.”

“It fits,” Hugh said. “Mrogs it is.”

“What about those armored assholes?” Bale asked.

“Mrog masters?” Dugas suggested.

“Mrog soldiers,” Elara said.

“Whatever was done to this… um… mrog was done in childhood,” Saladin said. “There is no evidence of undeath or atrophy typical of vampires. But the abnormalities in the organs are severe enough that a normal human wouldn’t survive the transformation unless it was a gradual process that took place when the body’s healing was still at its highest. Unless we’re dealing with some sort of regenerative virus like Lyc-V.”

The Lycos Virus was responsible for existence of shapeshifters and came with fun side effects. It also left irrefutable evidence of its presence in a human body.

“Is there any evidence of past regeneration?” Elara asked. “Bands of new tissue on the bones? New teeth?”

“Not in the three we opened up so far. I’ll let you know if we find it.”

“Do you have protocol for handling vampires?” Hugh asked.

Saladin looked offended. “Yes.”

“Keep to that protocol for them until we know they’re not going to regenerate and rise.”

“We’re not amateurs,” Saladin said.

“If I thought you were, I’d put my people here to stand guard.”

Felix walked over and stared at the mrog’s face.

“Yes?” Hugh asked.

“Bigger eyes, longer nose, bigger ears,” Felix said.

“Every sense pushed into overdrive,” Elara murmured.

“Predators,” Savannah said.

Tame predators, like dogs. Trained to do what their masters told them.

“Anything else?” Hugh asked.

Saladin shook his head. “When the magic is up, maybe we can learn more.”

“Let’s see the human,” Elara said.

They moved to the second table. A large man lay on the steel surface, butterflied, his insides exposed for everyone to view. Geometric tattoos covered his skin, but only on the left side. An Indian woman in her late thirties stood next to him, holding up gloved hands. He’d met her before, Hugh remembered. Her name was Preethika Manohari and she ran the pediatric clinic in the settlement.