From Durmstrang With Blood
Chapter Two
"And I thought Hogwarts was bleak!" Willow noted.
"Beauxbatons is certainly more hospitable-looking than either." Gabrielle agreed.
The portkey supplied by WAND had dropped them in the courtyard of a truly medieval castle built of grim, dark grey stone. Durmstrang Institute was perched half-way up a mountain, miles from anywhere, in one of the most inhospitable locations in Europe.
"Apparently, they don't like visitors here." Willow said. "It took WAND ages to get permission for a portkey, and they have to clear every single use."
Gabrielle nodded. "In the Second World War, Bulgaria began as part of the Axis, and was then invaded by the Soviets and was under Communist rule until 1989. Wizards in such countries kept their heads down. At one time, Durmstrang even pretended to be located in Scandinavia, to throw off the KGB anti-wizard directorate."
"Can't say I blame them." Willow allowed. "Heads up! Here comes the welcome wagon!"
The figure approaching was tall, thin, wrapped in fur-lined robes and seemed to be slightly off-balance. As he came close, they saw he had a thin face with bushy eyebrows and a hooked nose. He greeted them with a slightly shy smile.
"Welcome to Durmstrang Institute." His English was fluent and only slightly accented. "I am Professor Viktor Krum, Flying Master, Quidditch coach and Deputy High Master here."
"I'm Agent Rosenberg, and this is Agent Delacour, with SHIELD." Willow replied.
Krum nodded. "Let us get out of this wind." He said. "We will speak in my office."
Durmstrang Castle was smaller and less labyrinthine than Hogwarts, but if anything, the corridors were even colder. As they walked, Gabrielle suddenly said: "You're the Viktor Krum, yes? The Quidditch player who held the Best Seeker Trophy for six years running?"
Krum nodded. "Yes, though only by default."
"Default?" Gabrielle asked.
Krum grinned at her. "Harry Potter became an Auror." He said. "Had he become a professional player, he would have taken the trophy more often than I. I once saw him fly, it was a spectacle I shall never forget!
"But I do not need to ask to know that you are the sister of Fleur Delacour. I had the honour of competing against her in the Triwizard Tournament. The resemblance is striking. How is your sister?"
"Doing well, very happy." Gabrielle replied. "She is married to Bill Weasley, and they have a daughter, Victoire."
Krum laughed. "Those Weasleys!" He said. "Always they get the best girls. Ronald stole Hermione Granger from under my nose. It must be the red hair."
By this time they had reached his office. It was a small, cosy room, very definitely a 'man-cave', with its' Quidditch posters, team photographs and an old Firebolt racing broom above the hearth where a merry fire crackled.
"When I studied here," Krum remarked, "the fires were only ever lit for magical purposes. Our current High Master, however, is of the view that there is a difference between character-building and hypothermia.
"Speaking of Professor Orlov, he asks me to send his apologies but he is detained on another matter. You are not the only visitors to the school today, and while he respects SHIELD highly, he would prefer to avoid a diplomatic incident! He hopes you understand."
"So the Latverians are already here." Willow noted.
Krum nodded. "However, to come to business. The item was stolen from a small museum we keep in the Restricted Section of our library. It is a small vial which is purported to contain what is called Source blood.
"This, as you are undoubtedly aware, relates to the now extinct species known as Source vampires, the progenitors or creators of what is now known as the Black Court of vampires. The nature of the contents of the vial has never been accurately determined, as doing so would destroy the artefact, which was deemed to be of too great an historical and antiquarian interest to risk in investigating an unsubstantiated legend.
"You see, the artefact was recovered, amongst other items, by Van Helsing and his party when they searched Castle Dracula after dealing with its owner. Since it was considered to be of no greater importance than any of the other antiques kept here, no special precautions were taken to protect it. However, as with all items pertaining or belonging to Count Dracula, the vial was white-flagged, so when we reported the theft to the Ministry in Sofia, they were obliged to inform the White Council. The Council clearly regard the matter as being of sufficient gravity to call in SHIELD..."
The pause was obviously in hopes of an explanation. Willow gave him as much as she could:
"There are other factors involved, muggle factors. The team we belong to works across both communities.
"But you have a suspect?"
Viktor nodded, producing a file. "Ludmila Vertic, a final year student of Latverian nationality. She was assiduous in her studies, if not extraordinarily talented. All Latverian students are disciplined workers, we find. They also tend to hang together and not make friends outside their own nationality. Ludmila was the only Latverian student in her year, and so was rather isolated. She was, however, a keen mountain walker and climber.
"The reasons for her being under suspicion are largely circumstantial. She was seen in the Library, going into the Restricted Section, shortly before the vial was found to be missing. Her presence there was no cause for concern, as a final year student, she had access to the section, but when the Librarian went in there some fifteen minutes later, both she and the vial were missing. Naturally, the alarm was raised and a full roll-call taken, and Ludmila was not on the premises.
"An immediate search was prosecuted, but Ludmila has her Apparation license, and since she is of age, the Trace is no longer on her. She could be anywhere in the world by now."
"How long ago did this happen?" Gabrielle asked.
"Perhaps five hours." Krum told her. "Your response has been remarkably prompt."
Gabrielle got to her feet. "I need to see where the crime took place." She said.
Krum took them to the Library, and helped Willow to ensure Gabrielle was undisturbed while she examined the scene with her Sight. It took longer than usual, and Willow was beginning to worry when Gabrielle finally emerged. She looked weary and disturbed.
"Professor Krum," she said, "could I speak with my colleague privately?"
"Of course," he replied, "use one of the study rooms."
Once they were alone, Gabrielle virtually flopped into the hard wooden chair.
"Are you OK?" Willow asked anxiously. "You were a long time in there."
"I need a moment." Gabrielle replied. Willow noted that her French accent had thickened, a sure sign of stress. "I 'ad to go back in there three times. There was something...I 'ave seen nothing like it before."
Gabrielle closed her eyes and took several deep, cleansing breaths. "Ah!" She said. "Better! Ze muggle 'oo invented yoga was wiser than any wizard."
"Didn't know you did yoga." Willow commented.
"It is a recent thing." Gabrielle admitted, the French fading from her voice. "Doug is teaching me."
"Well, we figured it wasn't all medical consultation!" Willow noted with a grin.
"It isn't all yoga, either, as you have probably guessed." Gabrielle replied. "But to business. We can at least inform Professor Krum that his student is innocent. Whoever or whatever took that vial was not a witch, or even fully human!"
"Then what was it?" Willow wanted to know.
"I'm not sure, yet." Gabrielle allowed. "I need to talk to Doug and Bruce, and possibly some of the uber-nerds at HQ first."
"OK, but before that, I'll let Rhodey know what we've got." Willow said.
The news they had for Krum was clearly a matter of considerable relief to him. There being nothing else to be gained from remaining here, he escorted them down to the Great Hall "Not as impressive as Hogwarts, or as elegant as Beauxbatons, but it's ours, so I can't let you leave without seeing it!"
However, two figures were already there. One was an elderly, rotund and shinily bald wizard with a jovial face, wearing a more elaborate version of the same robes Krum was. The other was unmistakable. A towering, broad-shouldered figure in green hood, cloak and tunic over gunmetal-grey armour whose medieval appearance masked technology that almost matched the sophistication of Iron Mans'.
It was this armoured figure, peremptorily ending his dialogue with the other - obviously High Master Orlov – who bore down on the two SHIELD agents.
"I am Doom." He announced unnecessarily. He looked them both over, then turned to Willow. "You are Willow Rosenberg, one-time lickspittle to the stupid and unworthy Slayer, Buffy Sommers. To you I do not speak."
He turned his attention to Gabrielle. "Gabrielle Delacour, sister to Fleur Delacour, who is in turn sister-in-law to Harry Potter, a man I respect. Member of a unique SHIELD team led by Draco Malfoy, who is a kinsman of mine. For these reasons I will countenance you."
Gabrielle inclined her head. Her mind reeled with flip or sarcastic replies, but to get away with that when talking to Doom, you had to be Ben Grimm, Captain America or better.
"I presume you have been sent here on the same mission I have come. To establish the role of my subject in this matter. What have you found?" Doom asked.
"Ludmila Vertic was innocent of the theft from the Library." Gabrielle replied. "My Sight confirmed that the thief was not a witch, though I am as yet unsure of exactly what it was.
"If further evidence is needed, other members of my team are currently at a crime scene not far from here, examining the body of a young woman. She has been positively identified as Ludmila Vertic. Our Medical Officers' preliminary findings are that she died at least seven hours ago, probably longer, and we know that the theft took place no more than six hours ago, now."
Doom nodded. "For the Sight, I will take your word. I would know if you lied. As to the other, your Medical Officer is Douglas Howser, is he not? Then I will accept his findings. Tell him that should the day come when he wishes to fulfil his potential, there will always be a post for him in the Latverian Medical Service.
"Very well, at this time I will refrain from further investigation, on the condition that if and when you find the name of Ludmila Vertics' killer, you will inform me. Doom will not permit her murder to go unanswered."
"She was a person of importance, then?" Gabrielle was fishing, but Doom might take the bait.
His response was a sigh that might have been pity, contempt, or both. "All of my subjects are of importance to me, Mlle Delacour! They give me their loyalty and obedience, and in return I protect them, care for them and, when necessary, avenge them!"
With that, Dr Doom turned and strode out of the Hall without another word.
It had been a long time, Helen Magnus realised, since she had sat across a table from someone quite as dangerous as Draco Malfoy. Tall, slender, pale and coldly handsome, softly-spoken and impeccably courteous, he gave the impression of being thoroughly effete – a 'gentleman' rather than a 'player'.
But Helen knew the type. In her long life, she had encountered several men like Draco Malfoy. Men like Adam Adamant, Richard Hannay, Hugh Drummond, Peter Wimsey, Simon Templar and John Steed. Men apparently without a profession or a care in the world. Men you did not cross.
Dracos' subordinates, she judged, were worthy of him. Bruce Wayne she knew by reputation as an engineer of parts and peerless designer of weapons. Seeing him for the first time, Helen realised that he was a man as capable of using a weapon as he was of building one. The other, Agent Kent, was something of an enigma. Taciturn, mostly still, but moving when necessary with a lightness and fluidity that belied his stocky build. Despite the dark glasses, Helen was willing to bet his eyes missed nothing. She had a sixth sense about such things, and Kent was either a mutant, an Abnormal, or not of this Earth.
Helen exchanged a glance with her two associates, aware that both Nikola Tesla and Madame Vastra would have seen what she saw. There was no more putting it off. Malfoy was waiting patiently, but his cold grey eyes bored into her – he would not leave without answers. Helen took a deep breath and took the first mouthful of her least favourite dish – humble pie.
"Agent Malfoy, thank you for responding so quickly. I must begin by offering an apology, on behalf of the Sanctuary Network and myself personally, for a small deception we have been practising on the world in general, and wizards in particular, for some time now. A deception regarding the contents of a certain vial which was, until a few hours ago, in the possession of the Durmstrang Institute.
"The vial was found by Professor Van Helsing and his colleagues among the effects of Count Dracula. Though we were aware of the nature of the contents, we chose at that time to falsify that knowledge for reasons we then deemed adequate. To put it bluntly, if nobody suspected the contents were genuine, they would have no reason to regard the vial as being anything but a rather beautiful and very interesting antique. Nobody would be interested in opening it, and though it would be kept safe, it would draw no undue attention.
"Now it appears we made an error in judgement, for which I unreservedly apologise."
"Quite." Draco answered. "Though given the time at which the events took place, it would be fair to say that your embryonic network would have been in no position to prevent, or even survive, a turf war over the artefact between Warehouse 12 and the Torchwood Institute. Your discretion was hardly culpable, and indeed strikes me as eminently sensible."
And so the deal was struck, Helen realised. Draco had offered her a face-saving interpretation of the actions of the Five, in return for which he would expect, and get, full disclosure.
"My Assistant Director of Development, Mr Tesla, is in a better position than I to give you a full account." She said. "Nikola?"
Tesla did not need to be told what Helen expected -he had known her too long and too well to misinterpret even her slightest gesture or expression. His delivery was as detached and cool as a lecturer, despite the fact that the subject matter was of deep personal concern to both himself and Helen.
"The vial is approximately five inches in height and half an inch in diameter." He said. "It is made from what is called 'Britannia silver' – 95.8 per cent pure silver. It is inscribed with ancient lettering which precedes most human civilisations. I have some photographs which I have digitised for your convenience. The cap has been soldered shut using 22-carat gold. The soldering includes a cartouche or seal bearing the crest of House Dracula, and its' motto – Vae Victis.
"The vial contains an undisclosed amount, possibly one hundred millilitres, of pure Source blood. You don't need a history lesson right now, you can Google Source vampires later if you like. For now, I'll concentrate on the potential dangers.
"The amount, as it stands, is sufficient, given the right techniques, to clone a single Source vampire. Alternately, since half the amount produced the changes that made us the Five, the blood could be used to give ten people extraordinary, if unpredictable, gifts. In conjunction with certain other elements, it could produce as many as fifty full Black Court vampires or a hundred Blood-Thralls.
"All formidable enough. But if the technology exists, as it well might, to replicate the blood, in full or in part, then the dangers become greater. And this is without considering what might be done with the blood by skilled genetic engineers. It is possible that certain aspects of it might in fact be weaponised as a means of mind-domination or simply to spread madness. Imagine half the population of New York possessed by an uncontrollable blood-thirst!"
"Would anyone even notice a difference?" Draco remarked. "But your point is well taken. The substance is extremely dangerous in the wrong hands."
"In any hands." Helen stated flatly. "If you gain possession of the vial, Agent Malfoy, I urge you to destroy it and its contents immediately. I know SHIELD will want to analyse it, but the properties of Source blood are not fully understood, and its effects are completely unpredictable. Even with the best intentions, mistakes can be made."
"You were seen, you fool!" The scarred man snarled. "You swore to me you could do it, but you fooled nobody!"
Raven Darkholme fought to contain a surge of pure rage. She was not accustomed to being so berated by a flatscan.
"I fooled all but the last." She gritted.
"Silence!" The scarred man snapped. "One mistake is too many!"
Raven tensed despite herself, and the man laughed, tapping his forehead. "Try, if you like." He taunted her. "You're fast, I know you are. But not so fast that I couldn't switch that shiny new heart of yours off before you got within a yard of me. And remember, one day I will decide not to switch it back on. Or perhaps leave it off long enough for a little more brain damage to occur?"
She slumped back in her chair. He was right. They owned her, for now at least. But she was still Mystique, of the Brotherhood. It was not in her to surrender completely. "One day." She said softly. "One day, van Roek, you won't see me coming!"
Piet van Roek laughed again. "Really, Raven? I think not. You don't lack courage, but you're neither brave nor desperate enough – yet – to sacrifice your own life just to take me down. You're too selfish, too ambitious.
"But for now, I must consider your punishment."
"There will be no punishment." This was a new voice, and as it spoke, the large screen behind Van Roek lit up. The image revealed was of a man wearing a black uniform. He was hairless, with deep-socketed blue eyes, no nose and a lipless mouth. His skin was a deep red colour, and gleamed as if oiled.
Van Roek snapped to attention and saluted. "Hail HYDRA, Herr Reichsfuhrer! The woman must be punished, she failed in her mission."
The Red Skull shook his head. "The failure was not hers, Herr Gruppenfuhrer, but yours! The intelligence you gathered on the residence of the Day-Walker was incomplete. You told Fraulein Darkholme that Blade shared his home with a specialist who treated and researched his unique condition. You neglected to investigate further, or you would have known that that specialist is Michael Morbius, the Living Vampire.
"It is not the practice of HYDRA for leaders to place the blame for their own errors upon subordinates. We will discuss the matter of your punishment at a more convenient time.
"For now, we must move the programme forward with greater dispatch than we had planned for. It seems that SHIELD are becoming more proficient at solving puzzles, and a team has already been assigned to this case. This information comes from a contact at the Durmstrang Institute. You may recognise the leader of the SHIELD unit– an English wizard named Malfoy?"
Very few people could have held van Roeks' eyes at that moment, but the Red Skull was one of them. The South African wizards' hand rose to his face, almost unconsciously tracing the line of the long, diagonal scar that ran across it, half-closing his left eye and pulling the right corner of his mouth down. No magic, no potion, no muggle surgery had been able to erase that scar, put there in the cellar of a house in Jamaica by Draco Malfoys' sectumsempra curse. The HYDRA Healer had said that Malfoy had not only scarred van Roeks' face, but also his mind.
"I look forward to meeting Mr Malfoy again." Van Roek said softly.
The Skull shook his head. "You are not to seek him out, Herr Gruppenfuhrer, not this time. The mission is too important to risk on a personal vendetta. Should Malfoy fall into your hands, you may do as you will, but your first priority is the mission. Should I decide in due course that Herr Malfoys' career must be terminated, you have my world that you will lead that mission.
"For now, you must take the material you already have and join Count Orlok in the Carpathians. He is expecting you.
"Fraulein Darkholme, you have my apologies for the misinformation which led you into unnecessary risk. I note also that, despite the interruption, you secured the data we required. Therefore, you are temporarily brevetted to the rank of Hauptsturmfuhrer and given command of the defence unit at Castle Orlok. This does not mean that you are now a member of HYDRA, or that we trust you, but it is an opportunity for you to evidence your loyalty further. Please also remember that Gruppenfuhrer van Roek is not the only one with access to the controls of your cybernetic heart, and that he is still your commanding officer.
"Now, you have your orders. Hail HYDRA!"
"Packing, Nikola?" Madame Vastra asked.
Tesla suppressed an oath as he turned to face her. The tall Silurian woman was leaning casually in the doorway of his bedroom, wearing her usual urban combats and grinning at him.
"A short holiday." He said. "I have some time owed me, Vastra."
"How odd!" She said. "So do I. What a marvellous coincidence. We shall tour Romania together. I'm sure Helen would want me to keep you out of mischief."
Tesla did swear, this time. "Vastra, I have to make sure the Source blood doesn't fall into SHIELDs' hands. You know they'll mess about with it! God knows what could happen!"
"I entirely agree." Vastra said. "And I am coming along to make sure it does not fall into your hands, Nikola. SHIELD are not the only ones who like to mess about with dangerous things! Strax had a positive obsession with grenades!"
Tesla sighed. There was no shaking the woman off, she was as tenacious as a Pit-Bull and twice as dangerous.
Later, as Vastra piloted the Sanctuary plane, he asked her. "Why did you come in, after all, Vastra?Helen was on at you for years to turn yourself in to us, even after the Doctor had his little chat with her. I thought you'd never come in, but I go away for a while, and when I come back, your Hibernation Pod is in storage. Helen never said anything, and I've not asked you about it since you woke.
Vastra shrugged, but there was a sadness in her voice as she replied. "I was left on my own, Nikola.
"Strax was a Sontaran, bred for battle, even if he'd been forced to become a nurse. He was nearly twelve when he came into my care in 1888. That's a good age for a Sontaran. They're clones who are 'born' as full adults and go directly into combat, you see. By 1914, he was almost thirty-six – the longest-lived Sontaran on record. He never seemed to age, and he never got sick, but he did become restive. I think he was afraid he'd die a natural death – something no Sontaran has ever done and which they'd regard as a deep disgrace. So in 1914 he volunteered. He died at the Somme, wiping out a German machine-gun nest single-handed. I still have his Military Cross somewhere.
"But one thing leads to another, doesn't it? If Strax had survived and come home, he'd have been able to nurse Jenny through the influenza in 1918. As it was, she died in my arms, poor, frail human that she was." Vastra shook her head. "You are so short-lived, compared to us, yet somehow you burn so much brighter!
"But then there was just me. The Doctor came from time to time, but he was never one to gather moss, even though he did try, once. In the end, I was simply tired, Nikola. So I brought my pod to Sanctuary and asked for a place to rest, to sleep. Helen didn't crow, or say she told me so. She was nothing but kind, and so I slept.
"But the pod was supposed to waken me at a set time, to see if the world was able to support we Silurians again, and that date came a year or so ago. Earth is able to support us, but unready -we did not realise how far your species would come in so short a time. Mere years ago, you would all have reacted with fear and anger, but you have seen so much in the last few years. In a few more, you will be ready to accept us, I think. All that then remains is to teach my people to accept you!"
Tesla was silent for a while, then said. "I always wondered something. It was clear that you and Jenny were very much in love, but exactly how far could you go in...er...expressing that? In private, I mean, to each other?"
Vastra laughed. "As far as possible, of course! Physically, my species is not so very different from yours, at least in that respect. We may share traits in common with other reptiles, but we are warm-blooded live-bearers, as you are."
"Ah!" Tesla said. "You'll forgive my curiosity. I know you appear to have breasts, but I did wonder whether you gave that impression in order to make it easy for humans to treat you as a woman."
She laughed again, shaking her head. "No, Nikola, it's all me, I assure you! I do forgive your curiosity. You haven't seen me without my clothes on yet."
"Yet?" He repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, darling, we are supposed to be on holiday!" Vastra replied.
