Chapter 9

The next day I could barely get up. At least we had the good idea to do the "operation" before the weekend. But we missed breakfast, because we were too sleepy. At least no one counted or controlled us at the weekend. Most of the staff didn't even go to work. Mrs. Cole, the cook, and the janitor were the only ones left.

When we came to our senses, we went to check on the loot. We couldn't resist opening one jar, using magic, a universal remedy, and using it we also heated the contents of the jar. Though at first there was a thought of a fire. Stupid idea.

"Yummy," Tom licked his fingers. We ate like savages, with our hands, because we had not thought to take spoons. We didn't think we'd need them today, anyway. If we had taken a knife, it would have been much more effective to open the jar, instead of bending it before we could do what we wanted to do.

"It feels like meat, and I haven't eaten meat in a thousand years," I lean back contentedly, looking at the ceiling and clearing my hands with magic. "What do you suggest for a hiding place?"

" I suggest the square, by the bridge, across from Southend. "

"Where you found Shaisa? "

"Yes. There are other snakes there, so not many people go there. Shaisa says there's a couple of holes where she used to winter. So a place will be found. "

"Option. Let's take a walk up" there. Remember to come back for the hidden food at night. Remind me if you need anything.

"Another night without sleep," Tom reached up and yawned. I know what he means, I haven't even had the energy to use magic. I just want to lie down and lie down...

Nevertheless, after a little rest following a hearty breakfast, we went to the park. It was not too far away and fairly closed, with many trees and bushes already covered in snow. Despite the day off, there really wasn't much of a crowd. We walked around it a couple of times, noticing and properly examining the supposed hiding places, we chose the most suitable one to store our supplies. It was a fallen dry tree, with a shallow hole dug by some animal: dog or raccoon. Then, apparently, they left the area because of the snakes that had bred. And the tree finally withered away and stayed. Yeah, they're obviously watching the parks better these days. But that's good for us.

"It'll be all right if we cover it with snow," said Riddle thoughtfully, looking at the potential hiding place from a distance. " It'll keep things hidden until spring, and canned food won't go rotten in the cold. "

" In the summer we can cover with branches, but it would be better to eat everything before the heat and look for something new," I agree.

"So it's decided, we'll do the transfer tonight! "

"You are too positive for this job. My hands are still shaking," I show him my outstretched hand, which does shake a little.

"I'd suggest we get someone to pull the cart for us. What do you think? " he grins with the edge of his mouth, " We have to take advantage of our position somehow, don't we? "

"Yeah, and then you'll erase their memory? When did you learn to do that again? Or maybe you were just so good at it that you wiped my memory, too, and I can't remember anything? " I looked at him sneeringly. "We can of course strain someone else, but not only will he not keep his mouth shut, but he can also steal something from the supplies by himself. And then we'd have to go with him to the basement and "borrow" the cart with him... "

"I understand, don't go on," he frowns, reconsidering his options, "we'll have to do it ourselves. "

"We'll have to do it ourselves..." I sigh, "let's go and practice while we still have strength, because the reserve is full to the brim, so I want to use something... Eh...".

"I remember, "while you sleep, the enemy training", remember what you said? "

"Ha-ha, remember that? "

"That was funny. "

" I didn't just say that. Remember the theory that we're not the only ones with magic. What do you think those who are taught with mentors will accomplish in that time? That makes us losers, us bums, savages, barbarians... so training and training, without a break, twenty-four hours a day, seven days per week! "

"I don't understand that last part," Riddle shook his head in puzzlement.

"Twenty-four hours a day, seven days per week."

"You can't be serious. " He is questioning my adequacy, looks into my eyes," I wondered if you are overheating. I mean," he looks around, "cooled off? "

" Of course, it's not literally," I grin, "but think about it. Here we are, trying, trying, inventing techniques, reinventing the wheel, while some rich heir literally dreams of quickly get rid of these boring dusty books and rush out into the street to play with friends. And he doesn't care about this knowledge, doesn't care about ability and its development. His library holds thousands of priceless folios that his ancestors have collected for thousands of years, but he just doesn't give a shit. "

Tom was thoughtful and frowning, and I continued:

"That's one example. And here's another, say, his estate neighbor, just as rich and major. He, unlike our slacker, doesn't miss his chance, studying everything he can get his hands on. Here he is meeting us. What do you think would be the reaction of such a man? "

"Contempt," Tom answers instantly. I can see in his eyes the reflection of hidden rage "he will be mocking and insulting. He won't respect "self-taught. Of course he will start boasting of his wealth and knowledge... "

"Whoa, whoa, don't get so emotional, it's just an example. An example that we should not stand still, and must in any way to learn new and develop the already available. "

" You're right. So let's storm the library and train twenty-four on seven. "

Talking that way we reached our "reserve ground" and noticed what was wrong only when we came close to it.

-"Wolf, I hope it was you who forgot to put the boards back. " Riddle looked around suspiciously, but the place was empty, as usual.

"No, Tom, I didn't," I feared it had happened after all, the lair was open and we hadn't had time to hide the loot.

"I'd better check it," Riddle took out the snake with which he'd never left the room, hissed something to it, and crept toward the entrance. I followed, trying to make as little noise as possible.

There was definitely someone in the basement, and I could hear our jars rattling and clanking. I looked around, because it was dark. Riddle cursed in a barely audible annoyance, normally one of us would hang a lumos when we came in here, but of course no one did this time.

Finally my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I could see a figure digging in our loot. The figure was definitely male. And it was alone. I glanced over at Riddle, and he nodded. We raise our hands and attack with a slash at the same time.

"Aah!" A scream of rage hit my ears, "aah! It hurts! " I hit him again. Riddle, standing next to me, doesn't stand still, either; I can feel the wave of attacking magic coming from him. I flip the lumos up, lighting the room.

By the cracked basement wall, a man dressed in an old and worn jacket that was shredded and soaked in blood. He was no longer screaming, but rather moaning. One of the attacks clearly grazed his face, narrowly missing his eyes.

I stepped closer, Riddle guarding me, stepping around to the side. Looking closely, I can see that the wounds are not just deep, they go to the bone. In the torn holes of his clothes you could see meat and guts spilling out of his belly. On one leg a piece of flesh had been cut off, exposing bone. It looked disgusting and very ugly, but only to the uninitiated. I had an inkling of what a "scratch" attack would lead to, it was the real Seco at low levels! But I used to watch nightmare pictures in my former life. Back then, I was used to watching nightmares every day on TV, whether it was the news or a crime news documentary, or another thriller or horror film that showed guts and blood close-up, hoping to provoke some kind of emotion in the viewer. It is possible that I was also influenced by mental magic training, so my emotional block became much higher.

The Riddle standing next to me also showed no obvious disgust and was not going to vomit. Good.

But it's time to finish. I took one more shot, aiming for the throat.

The "scratch" cuts the hobo's throat, reaching all the way to the middle of his neck. More blood flows, pouring onto the floor. The basement's already disgusting smells begin to reek of a slaughterhouse. This sucks. Gotta get our supply out of here before it's covered in blood. And I don't think we can do it without a cart. Just grab a few cans and run? Undervalue all our efforts last night?

"Shit-shit-shit-shit! " Riddle seems to get it, too. He rushes for the exit, looking around "no one's there yet, but I don't know if anyone could have heard him! "

" Leave Shaisa to keep watch," I pick up the tins myself at this moment, cleaning up the blood-splattered cans in the process. I cleaned them the same way I cleaned my clothes and hands. Magic is surprisingly universal.

" What do we do now? " Tom feverishly begins to help me, making a pile of blood-splattered cans. They were cold enough to burn unpleasantly on my bare palms. We had no gloves, of course.

I noticed that a hobo had some tinned food out of his jacket. I was lucky we didn't catch them with our cuts. Overcoming some disgust, I pull them out and clean them before adding them to the others.

" We gather up as much as we can carry, emphasis on stew, meat, and fish, and get out of here to the hideout. Then we go back and send Shaisa to see if they found the body. If they did, we forget about this place. That means we've lost our supply. If they don't find the body, we repeat the previous point and so on until we've dragged everything. "

"Why don't we just burn it? Without the body, no one can prove anyone was killed here. And the screaming... who knows what happens here every day? "

I'm looking at Riddle. This plan sucks, but that's not what I'm saying:

" I don't think we should burn it, because it would leave bones, and it would draw a lot more attention, so we should make the body disappear. Or turn him into something," I remembered our conversation, "like a toad," I grinned, " You said that transformation is real magic. "

"I'll try," Riddle nodded to me, "but you keep cleaning the cans, and check your clothes, or you'll get in trouble from Mrs. Cole. "

Riddle walks over to the dead body, stretching out his arms. His eyes are closed, his jaw clenched tight. By the time I'd finished cleansing our stuff, the body started twitching. Did he want to bring him back to life? No, I saw that the hobo's limbs had become intertwined in some strange knot and thinned. But that was it. Riddle was breathing heavily, his face covered in sweat. It didn't work.

" I see," I told him, "then we'll proceed according to my plan. "

"Shh," Shaisa voiced. I guess it's no good.

" There's a man walking down the road! - Tom instantly translates the hiss," she doesn't know if he's coming our way or just. "

" Grab the cans and run, I don't want to put a second dead body in here! " With those words, I grab the much-suffered stew, two cans for each hand, and, holding them with my elbows, run outside. Riddle isn't far behind, still managing to pick up a snake before I leave.

I don't run straight to the square, but I loop around to throw off the trail in case there's a chase. Tom is panting next to me. I look back from time to time, but I do not see anyone. Did we lose them?

We ran out onto one of the main streets, full of people. It was the weekend, in the middle of the day. A day for relaxed walking and shopping. We quickly run through a couple of houses, popping into an alley and finally giving our feet a rest.

"This day is definitely not going to be my happiest memory," Tom mutters.

" I'm not sure how far it'll go," I tell him, "after all, we're not dead yet. "

" Oh, yes! That's good," he grumbles venomously.

We catch our breath and head toward the square. I hope it's still empty. It's not a very popular place. This time, for a change, everything went well and we, avoiding unnecessary attention, hid a little of what remained in the new hideout. After that, we carefully headed back.

The view outside, near our base, was pleasing to the eye with its emptiness. Tom hissed to Shaisa. She's a great help in this situation. We need to give her something tasty to eat. What do snakes eat? Mice?

Shaisa came back, informing Tom that there were no living ones in the basement.

So began our longest day, as we dragged the entire supply in six approaches, in four hands. How, by some miracle, we managed not to get caught by anyone is left out of the picture. Each time we literally shook at every single turn, expecting that now for sure we would fall into the hands of the constables. My thoughts were diluted with aurors and Azkaban, though I knew that it shouldn't come to that, but my heart still clutched in my chest with fear.

At the end of the day, we were so exhausted that I wanted to spit on the last cans, but my sense of duty and will forced me to go back for the rest. By this time it had already gotten dark, so there was less worry that we would be caught. And we were tired of being afraid.

We returned to the shelter terribly exhausted. Second day already enough strength only to crawl up to bed and pass out.

" You asked me to remind you about the jars we buried halfway through," Tom said, his lips parting with difficulty.

It made me want to swear. Another camping trip was coming up...