Night Patrol
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or Charmed. The town of Mayapore belongs to Paul Scott's Raj Quartet, but Lieutenant Alan Thomas Godfrey and the night watchmen are my creations. For continuity purposes this takes place just after Prue was killed during the third season…
"Bloody night patrols. Fourth time this week. We never find anything." Constable Mullins growled his shotgun in hand.
"Right. Keep lively, men. The Heartless did advance another forty miles yesterday, putting them within twenty miles of the town." Lieutenant Godfrey replied, addressing the other four members of the His Majesty's Indian Constabulary Service, based in Mayapore.
"Yes lieutenant." Mullins replied.
"Sir, we've encountered no advanced patrols, nor any scouts." Constable Rees added.
"Silence you two. Remember noise discipline." Sergeant Hiller interjected.
The men's flashlights shined around the area near the outskirts of town. They continued their roving vigil until the lieutenant put his hand up. Movement.
"Halt!" Godfrey shouted, aiming his Webley revolver at movement from the brush.
Another flash of movement, Mullins took aim and fired a shot from his shotgun. Rees and Donalbain joined in with their carbines and Godfrey shouted, "Cease fire! Cease fire!"
The five men ran full tilt, weapons at the ready, towards the brush where they had been firing. The bodies of two Heartless, shot full of holes, lay on their sides. Beside the two corpses was a trail of black blood, indicating one of them had been wounded. Hiller dropped to one knee beside the blood trail.
"Bubbles in the blood. It was hit in the lungs, we can track it." Hiller replied.
"Follow it, it can't have gone far. But be wary of ambush." Godfrey replied.
The five men vanished into the jungle to follow their lead.
I don't remember Heaven being so humid. Prue thought. Come to think of it, Hell shouldn't be all that humid either.
"That's because you aren't dead my dear." A voice sounded behind her.
Prue spun round to face a tall Englishman, if his accent was any indication, wearing a slate gray suit, a monocle, and an old style rain cape. "Who are you?"
"Nigel, I can see you're confused about everything so allow me to explain it. I'm the new Whitelighter assigned to you. I can see you have questions, but they'll have to wait. You are to fight a new foe that will be a great threat to your world if it isn't stopped."
"What is it that you're having me fight?" Prue asked.
"The fakir will tell…" Nigel said, cryptically and smiling before he orbed out.
"Great." Prue grumbled to no one in particular, taking in the unpleasant scent of the jungle around her.
Just then a creature came running out of the brush, a creature unlike any Prue had seen before in three years of dealing with supernatural beings. It was roughly four feet tall, with glowing yellow eyes, its hands ending in claws, antennae projecting from its forehead. It was black, not Daryl black, but black as the night sky. A black substance, the consistency of slightly congealed motor oil, seeped between its fingers; the substance could only be whatever this thing used for blood. Prue felt the unmistakable air of malevolence a Charmed One could detect in a demon.
The wounded creature ran past her and Prue heard more crashing through the brush before she was almost blinded by several lights. She heard a shout of, "Freeze!"
Prue waved one hand, flinging the source of the shout into two of his compatriots. She could hear several English accented curses as she ran. A shotgun blast tore a chunk of bark away from where her head had been a millisecond ago. She used another telekinetic burst to throw her other two attackers into the nearby stream.
She turned to see the three men she'd knocked over earlier start to rise to their feet, two of them aiming rifles in her direction.
"Wait! Don't shoot!" the third one shouted, "Not yet."
Prue watched as the third man walked down the hill towards her, holding a flashlight in one hand and a revolver in the other. He wore olive drab trousers and a collared shirt of the same color, his sleeves rolled up as well as a brown leather belt, with another brown leather strap crossing his chest from his right shoulder down to the holster on the left side of the belt, as well as a green uniform cap. Judging by his uniform he was a soldier or policeman of some kind.
Lieutenant Godfrey walked down the hill, his pistol drawn. Whoever this woman was, she wasn't any ordinary traveler. The fact that she had flung him into Rees and Donalbain without even laying a hand upon him was a definite sign of it. As he approached her, he was suspicious of why she was out after curfew, but he wondered if she was evil. The closer he got, he was less convinced that the woman was evil, after all she could have flung some of the smaller stones on the river bank with her powers at him, any number of which was large enough to fracture his skull. Nonetheless he kept his pistol aimed towards her. He could see the woman was roughly his age as he approached. Certainly rather attractive for a witch.
"Who are you?" Godfrey asked, "State your business."
The woman's clear blue eyes met his own as she responded, "Prue Halliwell. My business is my own."
"That may be." Godfrey replied evenly, "But unsavory people and Heartless are often about at this hour."
"Heartless?" Prue asked. The man looked at her with a look that implied she should have known what he was talking about, affronted, Prue continued, "Look, Mister, I just got here, wherever here is. I run right into some glowing eyed thing and not two seconds later your men show up trying to shoot me full of holes…"
"That creature you just described is a Heartless." Godfrey replied, "And the fact that you simply appeared in the path of the creature we were pursuing was suspicious."
Prue saw two more of these Englishmen approach. One of them was a slim bodied fellow of nineteen, brandishing a shotgun; the other was a round figured man with a handlebar mustache and a pistol. The latter looked to be about forty years old and the three stripes indicating a sergeant were on his sleeves. The sergeant was older than the man with the shotgun or the fellow that was questioning her.
The sergeant spoke just then, "It's dangerous to be about at this time of night, Miss. Shall we take her to the lockup sir?"
The sergeant was clearly addressing the guy that had approached her earlier with his second statement. The fellow that had been addressing her earlier replied, "No. I'm inclined to believe this young lady poses no threat to us."
Sergeant Hiller looked slightly askance, "Sir?"
"We fired at her first. The resulting incident was her defending herself." Godfrey replied, "I'm inclined to believe she has no affiliation with the Heartless. The main reason is she could have easily killed me with the stones on the riverbed with those powers of hers. Secondly she seems to have no idea what it is we're facing. Sergeant Hiller, you and Mullins take our visitor to the club and book her a room at the inn. I'll take her to Captain Merrick in the morning for questioning."
"Yes sir. Come along you." Hiller replied, leading Prue by one arm back to the road to Mayapore.
"We'll continue the patrol from here." Godfrey replied.
Prue noted the sign that said "Mayapore" at the entrance to the town. No one was out in the streets, save for a couple more policemen with holstered pistols.
"Step lively now." Hiller said.
Mister Shotgun was standing a couple paces behind her, clearly somewhat indignant about being flung ass over tea kettle into his sergeant. The trio stopped outside of a large building and the sergeant banged on the door.
Opening the door was a bald, wiry Indian man. "We're closing in twenty minutes, sir."
"Mr. Chaudhuri," Sergeant Hiller began, "Is their room in the inn?"
"Yes sir, there is." Chaudhuri replied.
"Good. See to it this young lady has a room, Lieutenant Godfrey's orders." Hiller replied, "You will be properly compensated for your trouble."
After taking the new guest's information down in a large, leather bound ledger Mr. Chaudhuri walked upstairs with Prue behind him and Mullins and Hiller trailing. He opened a door and gestured for Prue to enter. She walked into the room and closed the door. As soon as the door closed she went to take stock of her situation.
Well, I'm not in a prison cell and whoever this Godfrey character is, he at least trusts me not to run off. Prue thought. And besides I don't know anything about this world. And exactly which fakir Nigel was talking about. Last time I checked there were oh-I-don't-know a few thousand fakirs in India. And if this Merrick character decides to arrest me?
Prue considered her options. She could escape out the window into the street, sneak by the constables. But to where? It's not like there's a gas station with street maps to Mayapore. And let's not forget those Heartless things. At the very least, Godfrey and his friends can distract them while I find the fakir. She could wait to see the lay of the land, maybe speak to this Godfrey character. If worse came to worse she could overpower Godfrey and get the hell out of Dodge, find the fakir, and see just what Nigel wanted.
And where are you, Mr. Whitelighter? Prue thought. I die and I'm reincarnated on some world or time where you just tell me that a fakir knows what I need, and then run off and I'm stuck in Casablanca minus the Nazis but plus the Heartless.
It has been a long night. Prue thought, stretching and yawning. She removed her shoes and left them by the bed, curled up and fell asleep.
Several hours later Prue was awakened by a knocking on the door. "Ms. Halliwell? Lieutenant Godfrey is waiting downstairs."
After walking into the tiny bathroom, taking a quick shower and getting dressed Prue opened the door to see Mr. Chaudhuri and Lt. Godfrey standing outside the door. The trio walked downstairs and Mr. Chaudhuri said, "Breakfast is being served."
"Thank you, Mr. Chaudhuri." Godfrey replied.
Breakfast was a quiet affair, with Godfrey being polite but definitely businesslike. As they finished, Godfrey paid the check and they headed out into the foyer. When Godfrey opened the front door a tall, gangly, and bespectacled woman in her mid twenties, a few years younger than Piper walked in.
"Good morning Miss Manners." Godfrey said.
"Good morning." Miss Manners replied, with a cordial smile.
At Prue's glance, Godfrey replied, "Daphne Manners, she's a volunteer nurse from England. She came over here six months ago."
"And what about you?" Prue asked.
"I've lived here all my life." Godfrey replied as they walked down the busy street. Carts, motor cars, and pedestrians both British and Indian mixed but did not mingle.
As they headed for the Police Station, near the center of the town, Prue noticed two policemen were leading a young Indian man in handcuffs towards the station. "What's he in trouble for?" Prue asked.
"He's involved with the Quit India movement." Godfrey replied, at Prue's questioning look he added, "They want us to leave India now, even with the threat of the Heartless on the horizon. We had a demonstration two days ago. He was one of the instigators."
If they try and arrest me, I can overpower Merrick, whoever he is, and Godfrey and escape, find this fakir and see just what Nigel wanted. Prue thought.
As they sat in the questioning room the door opened and Godfrey stood up when his superior officer entered. The tall, long limbed man with the slightly tousled blond hair had to be Merrick.
"I read your patrol report, Mr. Godfrey." Merrick began, with a slightly smug tone of voice, "It is commendable that you killed off the scouting patrol, however, I expect reports from my officers to be far less fanciful in nature."
"Sir?" Godfrey asked.
"The incident where you claim this young woman threw you into Rees and Donalbain is incredulous." Merrick began, his hands folded behind his back and pacing the room like some Third World dictator, "Unless she was some sort of sorceress, highly unlikely, there is no way she could have done so. You also continued to make this same, ridiculous yet entertaining, allegation when she threw Mullins and Sergeant Hiller into the stream. However, Mr. Godfrey, I will give you the benefit of the doubt."
As he spoke, Merrick took a pencil from his pocket and held it in the air. "If your report is accurate, then she should prevent this from hitting the floor. Anytime you're ready, miss." Merrick said.
Merrick released the pencil and it struck the floor. "Mr. Godfrey, should you sight a unicorn on your next night patrol, do not report it unless you bring me actual evidence."
He turned towards Prue after chewing Godfrey out, "You may go. But if there are any unusual occurrences, you'll be the first person I question."
Prue walked out of the questioning room. Score. She thought. Godfrey opened the door for her with a slightly stormy expression on his face. Prue gave him a standard two-millimeter grin.
Daphne Manners adjusted the plastic framed eyeglasses on her face, to prevent them from sliding off her nose. She climbed onto her bicycle and pedaled out onto the road. As she pedaled towards the MacGregor household her front tire struck a deep rut in the dirt road and she began to pinwheel out of control.
A loud honk came from a five ton truck belonging to the Pankot Rifles, a regiment of the Indian Army, that was now driving towards Daphne. Daphne Manners closed her eyes, expecting any second to feel the large vehicle running her down, feeling her bones break against the front bumper, and the crushing of whatever limbs happened to find themselves underneath the tires…
Daphne opened her eyes; the truck drove by her, missing her by inches. She saw the raven haired, blue eyed stranger that Mr. Godfrey had accompanied to the police station earlier that morning. That wasn't possible; things like this didn't just happen. She had clearly been in the path of that lorry one moment and then the next it was as if an invisible hand had nudged her away from the vehicle's path. The stranger's hands dropped at their side as though she were suddenly self conscious.
Things like that don't exist in this day and age? Are you arguing? You should be dead? Daphne thought. The stranger was leaving and Daphne got up and ran after her, "Wait!"
So much for leaving quietly. Prue thought, the rescued Innocent was heading her way, the same tall and somewhat plain looking woman with glasses that she'd seen earlier this morning when she was with Godfrey. It can't hurt to have a friend or two.
"Thank you for saving my life, though I can't quite thank you enough." The woman said.
"You're welcome." Prue replied.
"I remember you from this morning, you were with Mr. Godfrey." The woman replied, "I'm dreadfully sorry, we haven't been properly introduced."
"Prue Halliwell."
"Daphne Manners. I work at the hospital down the road from the club. I take it you're new in town."
"You could say that." Prue replied.
Daphne mulled that thought for a couple minutes, then brightened, "I'm sure that Lady Chatterjee won't mind if you stay with me as a guest. I'm living in the old MacGregor Bungalow."
I could use a place to stay. "Thank you," Prue replied, "I could use a place to stay for a while. I might not be in town for very long though."
Daphne went to pick up her bike, which surprisingly hadn't sustained any damage. She pushed it along one side as they walked towards the MacGregor Bungalow. As they neared the place, walking across the lawn, Prue saw an older Indian woman in a sari with slightly graying black hair. Judging by her carriage, Prue figured she was descended from the Brahmin caste she'd heard about somewhere before.
"Lily," Daphne began, "I have a guest. This is Prue Halliwell, she saved me from being run over by the lorry."
"I do not have a spare bedroom in this house, but Daphne's room has an extra bed you can use. How long will you be in town?" Lily replied.
"Difficult to say." Prue replied, "I shouldn't be long."
"Daphne, be sure you show our guest her room before you go back to the hospital." Lady Chatterjee replied, "I have some business to attend to."
"I'd best get cleaned up. I got fairly dirty with my little accident on the road." Daphne said, as they walked up the winding stairwell to the bedroom she was going to share with Prue.
Daphne had closed the door behind them, and joined Prue at the window. "The river is beautiful at night, when there's a full moon."
"What's on the other side of the bridge?" Prue asked.
"The Indian neighborhoods." Daphne asked.
Note to self, visit Indian neighborhood. What better place to start looking for that fakir than in the Indian neighborhood…Prue thought.
There was a knock on their door. "Miss Manners, Captain Merrick is her to see you."
Rahim, the Chatterjee family's butler, was standing on the other side of the door that Prue opened as soon as Daphne threw on a new dress. Rahim led Daphne downstairs to the drawing room.
Strange, Prue thought, The chief of police makes a social call to an accident victim. Don't be paranoid, Mayapore's a small enough town that Merrick would know all the people. All the Englishmen, that is.
Prue crept to the bottom of the stairs, hoping to glean a little bit of information from the conversation.
At roughly the same time, Daphne Manners walked into the room to find the long legged Merrick sitting in one of Lady Chatterjee's antique chairs. "I came to call on you because heard you were in an accident, Daphne."
Hmm, he's acting awfully familiar with Daphne. Prue thought.
"Yes, I was, Mr. Merrick." Daphne replied.
"No need to be so formal." Merrick said, "No need among friends."
Daphne felt confused, Merrick's eyes bore a certain intensity, a certain passion she hadn't seen before in the Police District Superintendent.
"I'm touched…" Daphne began.
"Ronald, you can call me Ronald." Merrick replied.
"I'm very touched Ronald." Daphne replied.
"The Pankot Rifles are doing a pass and review tomorrow. Will you accompany me?" Merrick asked.
Direct. Prue thought.
Daphne hesitated momentarily, "Yes, I'll accompany you." Daphne replied.
"I'll see you tomorrow then. I'd best be on my way." Merrick replied, standing up and walking out, with Rahim in tow.
Later that night Prue heard movement. She opened her eyes halfway, not stirring or sitting up but simply pretending to be asleep. Daphne was furtively dressing, looking around nervously in Prue's direction to make sure that she wasn't awake. Prue continued to pretend to be asleep until Daphne silently opened the window, closed it again, and climbed down the trellis to the ground.
Her new roommate's dabbling wasn't really much cause for alarm, but Prue filed that knowledge away for future use. She dressed and then climbed down the trellis, heading towards the Indian neighborhoods.
The area was a good deal dingier, and poorer than the English sectors of the town. Even if she didn't find the fakir, she could at least explore and figure out the layout of the place. She crept furtively through the alleys, avoiding the patrolling constables and future encounters with Godfrey, Merrick, and the rest of that group.
As Prue continued on her way, a hand touched her shoulder. Prue spun round to face a possible threat. She faced an Indian man, he was an older fellow with a greasy graying beard and hair. His clothing was simple and well worn. "I know whom you seek. However, I cannot speak to you now for dark forces seek me. Return here a fortnight later at midnight, and we can talk."
Almost as swiftly as he appeared, the fakir vanished. Just what I need, Prue thought, as she headed back to the old MacGregor Bungalow, either a demon or a warlock to add to this insane puzzle. Either way, this doesn't bode well.
Prue slipped through the hole in the back fence and climbed over the trellis and back into the bedroom. She could hear and see Daphne surreptitiously climbing over the window sill. Prue pretended to be asleep again, as Daphne went to be again. Looks like I might have to live with the idea that my roommate is a warlock. Prue thought grimly as she waited until Daphne was sound asleep before she nodded off.
TBC