The Wolf’s Will – Scene 045

Scene forty Five

In which our hero has things fired at his head.

The sum was already high in the sky by the time that Greg woke up. The front seat of a taxi is a surprisingly comfortable place to sleep, once you get used to it. By the looks of it Crazy Sven had been awake all night; Greg realised all of a sudden that he had never seen the man sleep. That might explain a few things, he thought.

He suddenly realised that he couldn’t really see the sun in the sky. He focused forward. Crazy Sevn had apparently been driving all night as well, they had covered a lot of ground, and Greg could see the E.M.L tower closing in on them.

Home, he thought, or one of them at least.

Crazy Sven took the Taxi through the stone arch in such a violent skid that Greg was glad that someone had made the arch intangible[1]. Greg saw the embossed gold letters as he passed. The Experimental Magic League, it read, we will eventually solve all your problems. Not the way I see it, thought Greg to himself; there are hundreds of reasons why magic will never be more than an interesting play thing, and they all live in this building.

Crazy Sven brought the car to a dignified halt; halfway up the steps, and leaning on a stone lion. Then he got out and looked around. “Dis is fonney place” he said, Greg was almost certain that wasn’t his normal accent, “Why are you having the desire to come here?”

Greg got out as well, in his case it involved climbing over a stone lion, “I need to get in contact with my friends” he said, “There are a few people who owe me some favours”

“Ah”, Said Crazy Sven, “You are going to being, shaking down some punks, ya?”

“I hope not” said Greg, “My first exit from here was, less than dignified, I would like to have the option of returning at some point in the future.”

“Ya,” said Crazy Sven, “let’s find ourselves a robecrotch”.

Greg wasn’t entirely sure when he had started to enjoy travelling with Crazy Sven, it was like the sheer surrealism of doing it had entered his life like white noise, and wasn’t really there unless he focused on it.

It had been a very long time since he was last here, Greg squared his shoulders and marched purposefully up the stairs, head held high. He reached the heavy oaken doors, wrenched them open, and ducked as a rock whizzed over his head and turned into a pigeon.

“Dammit!” cried a voice from inside, “it’s a pigeon again!”

“Yeh” said a rougher voice, “but did you see how far it flew? I bet if we add more sloth hair we could even get them to explode!”

“Yeh!” said the first voice again, it didn’t sound even slightly angry now, “maybe we could get them all to explode at once, that would be completely badass!”

Slightly shaken, and remembering why he hadn’t fit in in the first place, Greg straightened up, he turned to the two nuts inside and said, “I’m looking for Louise Green, You wouldn’t know where to find her would you?”

One of the nuts, a heavyset youth with dirty blond hair, looked up, “You mean Professor Green?” he asked

Greg thought about the Louise Green he had known, “Probably” he admitted.

“Upstairs”, said the youth, who was now doing something with his fingers which probably counted as serious fire risk.

Greg left him to it; it didn’t seem worth the effort to get anymore information out of them.

While he climbed the stairs he thought about the shear mess and disorder of this place. There were vines cascading from one of the tall towers, and he passed one of the strange parts of the wall that kept exploding and fixing itself, no one had managed to turn that off since his time, he saw.

He reached the top of the staircase, and stomped automatically on the left foot of one of the suits of armour, the left leg could swing up on its own, he remembered, there were some mistakes that you didn’t make twice.

He was in a long hall of doorways with things written on the doors. One of the doors seemed to have many little explosions going on behind in, one of them appeared to be holding back a small ocean, Greg ignored both of them and kept walking; he knew the office that the new Professor Green would have probably taken.

While he was walking he noticed that Crazy Sven hadn’t followed him up. Greg thought about the shear mayhem that a civilian could unleash here, in this place.

He thought about the dimensional horrors that they kept locked up in the basement, and in the new guy’s locker.

He thought about suits of armour, which tended to roam the hallways in lynch mobs, simply because everyone felt that they were much too busy to stop them.

He thought of simple spells, that anyone could cast, but only masters could control.

He thought about all of this, and then imagined a huge, hairy man of unspecified nationality thrown into the mix.

Then Greg kept walking, there was nothing that Crazy Sven could do which would surpass the kinds of thing which the teachers did to illustrate their points, or for a good laugh.

Greg reached the end of the hallway, and stood in front of the door there. Professor Green, the door read, Master of communications. He could remember this office clearly. At some point before his time, there had been some kind of ‘Drain the power of a dead god’ experiment[2], and the office on the floor below had been completely drained of magic, nothing more would work there.

Greg squared his shoulders again, and as an afterthought ran his fingers through his hair, and wished that Crazy Sven had owned a shaving razor. Then he pushed on the door and walked in.

Louise was sitting at her desk, typing on her laptop, when Greg walked in. She didn’t look surprised to see him, but then it was very hard to surprise Louise Green, she was the undisputed master of rewriting her plans to include acts of gods. She indicated to the empty seat in front of her desk, and Greg sat down. “How can I help you?” she asked

Greg had forgotten how blunt she could be, “Not even a hello?” he asked, “I thought we parted on fairly good terms”

Louses still didn’t look surprised, but her eyebrows did climb a little higher on her face, “Since when did you start needing greetings?” she asked

That gave Greg a shock of self recognition, “I don’t know” he said, “fairly recently I think”

Louise nodded, “It’s not quite what I would have expected from you but, very well. Hello Greg, how are you today?” It sounded like she was reading the words of a card, and Greg couldn’t help but fell patronised.

He decided to skip the small talk, “I need you to help me contact a friend”, he said, “If you can pull this off, then you can forget about that giant rat you let escape when I was covering for you.”


[1] So that it would stop collecting dirt

[2] Greg had never heard of one of these experiments being successful, most of the time it just brought the god back to life, and then everyone had to work around the ancient god which was mopping in the entry hall.

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