Breaking the Window: Expedition to Hyperborea

by Useful Oxymoron

Five years after the events of Breaking the Window, Bellatrix and Hermione are enjoying their best life together and look forward to their upcoming wedding in the summer. While Hermione still struggles with her inner demons, Bellatrix receives an invitation from her childhood hero for the both of them to join an expedition to the Arctic to find a magical city thought long lost.

31. A cavalry arrives

Breaking the window: Expedition to Hyperborea

Chapter 31: A cavalry arrives…

"The curious part of being in the middle of a grand conspiracy as it unfolds, is that you have next to no knowledge of it happening. This is undoubtedly due to the lack of details known. It isn't until, often much later, when more of the events have been catalogued, comparisons have been made, interviews held and books published that the pieces of the puzzle will start to fall together. And that is when suddenly there will be more pieces than fit into the puzzle. No doubt my friend Antonin will have loads of new subjects to talk about in the coming years."

- Bellatrix Black, Expedition to Hyperborea, published 2006

Cygnus stood on the observation deck of a most marvellous muggle machine. He smiled: his younger self would have never admitted to anything muggle being marvellous, but age and experience had the tendency to bring perspective.

Ever since discovering a mysterious group from his past had a hand in the very expedition precious members of his family had been on, Cygnus had been rallying the troops. With the help of Antonin Dolohov and Newt Scamander whom had painstakingly managed to reconstruct and reverse engineer Eleanor Snowbell's research from interviews, publications and… more questionable sources… they had a rough yet somewhat precise destination as well as a fair idea where the ship would be at any given point. Truth be told, Cygnus had been quite impressed with the dedication and tenacity of the Info-Wizards crew; without them, he would be no closer to finding his family.

However, that left the question of how to actually get to them.

Enter Jack Granger, whom insights in the muggle world provided the answer. Said answer was then procured by Andromeda, who called in favours with some Russian wizarding oligarchs. Cygnus hadn't asked her what their family would have had to give up in exchange for this favour, but then again he wasn't being picky. The Ural, the marvellous ship he was stood upon, was an Arktika class icebreaker, set to officially launch next year. Unofficially, she had been loaned to the Black family to do with as they pleased as long as they didn't sink it. At 159 meters long, it was much larger than any wizarding ship and had a steel hull as thick as 20 inches.

A metal ship.

Amazing to think about, truly. He had to admit that muggles were ingenious in many ways.

As the Ural was only set to launch next year, construction wasn't fully finished. Fortunately, all the construction left to do mostly involved the internal structures. It meant cabins were rather Spartan and they had had to bring their own sleeping bags. Hah, some of the young people they had brought alone had never slept in a cold field with nothing but two thin sheets surrounding your shivering body. These sleeping bags were pure luxury compared. The ship itself was operating with an experienced crew, but a skeleton one. Rather than the crew complement of 190, the Ural had to make due with 40. 40 Russian sailors hastily recruited from other FSUE Atomflot ships. Most of the crew were happy with the quintuple salary the Black family were playing for their troubles, though the captain was being somewhat abrasive regardless.

As was evidenced when Andromeda and captain Sergey Rozhenko came walking into the observation lounge, bickering loudly as usual. Like all people on board, they wore the mandatory coverall. Andromeda, being usually clad in the most lavish and luxurious of dresses, looked particularly odd wearing that thick red and black coloured suit she did. It did, however, nothing to limit her rage.

"Your crew is being well paid to do their jobs and we are on the clock, captain," shouted Andromeda. "Need I remind you how urgent our mission is and who pays your salary?! You will do as you are told!"

Behind them Jack Granger sheepishly followed. He shot Cygnus a rather pained look from behind their backs and Cygnus gave only the slightest of nods in response.

"Crew is tired!" spoke Sergey in a thick Russian accent. He was a veteran of Arctic travel, grizzled and grey, around sixty years of age and generally completely fed up with Andromeda's demands. "Tired crew make mistakes. Mistakes on nuclear wessel in Arctic not good thing!"

"Captain…"

"Be quiet, woman!" Sergey shot back. "You may be big-shot rich bitch out there, but here on ship I am king! I look out for you and crew. If not then we need rescue and who rescue us?"

"How dare…"

"ENOUGH!" Sergey roared back. "I go bridge now! No follow! You banned from bridge! I see you there I have you locked in hold!"

Andromeda blinked, so unused to being talked back to she literally had no response to give. Her mouth opened and closed, producing not a single sound other than her teeth clacking together. Sergey simply turned his back to her and muttered. "You have us all rush to crew unfinished ship, bring strange people aboard, send us to middle of nowhere, but if owner says go we go. Does not mean have to listen to bitching. Cyka blyat!"

While Jack sort of sidled away to stoically stare out a window, Andromeda joined him. His middle daughter fished something from her suit's pocket. It was a cigarette. She lit it by snapping her fingers and making a flame appear and took what looked to be a rather relaxing tug before puffing out smoke. A blissful look came over her. "Where did you get that?" asked Cygnus. "You quit ten years ago."

"From Katarina on the upper deck," said Andromeda while taking another puff. "Only bloody crewmember worth talking to on this fucking overpriced tub."

"Only crewmember who doesn't hate you, you mean," said Cygnus. "You should stop micromanaging them. They know what they're doing. You don't."

"Father," Andromeda closed her eyes. "I sent my Nymphadora out here. I sent Bellatrix out here! And Hermione! And Tahki! And for what?!"

"They all wanted to go, Andromeda," said Cygnus as they both looked out the window to see the endless frozen white sprawling in front of them. Of course, Nymphadora hadn't want to go, not at the time at least, but Andromeda was feeling bad enough already without him reminding her of that fact. The guilt on Andromeda's face was palpable and she was dealing with it the only way she knew how: to try to take control of the situation and try to steer it on the right path as best she could. Unfortunately, that wasn't helping right now.

"I need to do something," Andromeda replied, taking another tug from her cigarette. It was gone far quicker than Andromeda would have liked. She flicked the cigarette into a nearby ashtray and started to rub her temples.

"You haven't slept for two days," said Cygnus. "And there's nothing you can do now. Why don't you get some sleep? I'll let you know when the situation changes."

Andromeda closed her eyes, looking for a moment as if she wanted to give a terse response, but simply couldn't muster the energy for it anymore. "I…" Andromeda muttered and finally admitted defeat. "I… am so tired…"

Cygnus embraced her briefly before Andromeda simply smiled, looking so very, very tired. Part of him wanted to see her back to her cabin, but he feared she would see that as smothering… that she needed him to find her way to cabin and make sure she would sleep. All three of his daughters were independent, prideful creatures to a fault and often to their own detriment. So, he would trust her to do what she had promised.

Jack Granger joined him by the window. From this observation deck, they could see the fore of the ship as it carved through the ice like a knife through butter. "Jack," greeted Cygnus warmly. "I'm glad to see you are holding yourself together."

"Unlike Andromeda, you mean?" said Jack. Of course, Jack being Jack, he often said the unspoken things out loud. It was one of his qualifies which Cygnus quite appreciated. "I suppose I should be more worried, but I know Hermione and I know what she's like. If there are indeed members of some sort of necromantic death cult aboard their ship, she'll know to deal with such people swiftly and decisively. I… I'm more worried about what comes after."

Aye, that Cygnus understood. Both Hermione and Bellatrix were women of action. Unlike Bellatrix, Hermione tended to become contemplative after the adrenaline rush wore off and think about what she could have done differently so much that she could literally reason herself into a depression. She had gotten plenty of help over the past five years to help deal with her demons, but he also knew it was frighteningly easy for poor Hermione to relapse. Hermione would need structure and predictability in her life and far less 'life or death' situations. As for Bellatrix, she hardly thought about her actions at all and simply moved from one experience to another with consummate ease. She and Hermione were be polar opposites in that regard.

"I'll be there for her," said Jack. "Until then, there's not much other to do than trying to enjoy the trip."

"It's still an impressive sight, Jack," said Cygnus. "What powered this vessel again?"

"A nuclear reactor," said Jack. "Just about the most fearsome power use muggles can muster."

"Splitting the very atoms," replied Cygnus. He had come like Jack quite a lot over the years. "I would never held such a thing possible."

"Believe it or not," said Jack. "I have fierce debates with Hermione about magic versus technology. You'd think she'd be more amenable to the muggle side of things considering her background, but you'd be surprised."

Cygnus chuckled. "Hah, I would very much like to join such debates."

Jack smirked. "Two against one, hm? Not exactly a fair fight."

A gravely voice full of bemusement sounded from the other side of the room. Stood there in deep contemplation to a point that most people left him alone, was Etchemin. The old Native-American man was thin and lanky, with long greying hair tied in a tail. Back during the war, Cygnus had known him as a larger than life and intense man. A natural leader who led his unit of braves and volunteers with courage and wisdom, especially for someone his age. Both men were older now. Both men had seen and done things during the war which still gave them nightmares. "I shall ask Tahki to join your side. You will find her a fierce defender of the merits of no-maj technology, as many of our tribe do," grinned the man.

Jack and Cygnus joined Etchemin. He remained silent a while longer. "I should never have let her go," he muttered.

"You think you could have stopped her?" said Cygnus. "She is a Black."

"I knew she was suffocating back home," sighed Etchemin. "I knew she wanted to explore her roots, explore the old country. We are as American as hot dogs and apple pie, but Tahki always was eager to explore her English ancestry. Anything to get herself off the reservation for a year or two."

"You entrusted her to us and we failed to keep her safe," Cygnus said.

"Nah," replied Etchemin. "My granddaughter was always much more… intense than my grandson ever was. She won't say it outright, but losing her parents hurt her more than she ever lets on. After I lost my daughter and son-in-law, I took in Ahanu and Tahki and raised them as my own. They are as much my children as my daughter was. And I'd burn the world to save them."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," said Jack. "For all we know, nothing has happened yet. That might be the scariest scenario of all. Explaining to our girls why we rushed to them on board a massively expensive nuclear icebreaker to check up on them. I… I have a reasonably good idea what Hermione's reaction might be and it won't be pretty."

Cygnus and Etchemin shared a look. "Well," smile Etchemin. "If that is indeed the case, then I will simply claim ignorance and blame the two of you. After all, what do I know? I'm just a simple horse-rancher from Montana."

Though there was humour on Etchemin's voice, both he and Cygnus knew better than to hope for that outcome. For they had both seen first-hand what this death cult… if it indeed even was a death cult… was capable of. Good humour. Good banter. That what was needed the most right now. Though all of them deal with it in a different manner, all three men were deeply concerned for their family.

And it was all shot to hell when Sergey returned to the observation deck. "We receive distress call," exclaimed the man. "Is weird. Transponder says is fishing trawler. Too far North for trawler."

Cygnus closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. "It's them," he said grimly. "How far out?"

"Is six or eight hours travel," said Sergey. "Is in location off travel route. In bay says map. We swing round Prince-Of-Wales Island."

"I guess we should wake up Andromeda," Jack said.

"No," replied Cygnus. "Let her sleep for now. Not much she can do other than wait. And she needs her rest more than anything."

"Brave man," chuckled Etchemin.

The captain nodded. "Am glad cyka blyat stays sleeping."

Cygnus raised an eyebrow. "Please do not call my daughter a 'bitch whore', captain. She is simply concerned about her daughter and the rest of her family."

The grizzled sea captain nodded grimly. "Apologies. She annoying. But if something happen to my Kalinka, I know I do same. It is father duty to protect daughters. Mothers too, it seem. I keep you informed."

The captain retreated back to the bridge, and Cygnus sighed heavily. "I'll go inform the specialists we've brought on board to get ready for anything," he said, referring to the specialized wizarding repair-crew of five they had brought on board. Aside from that, they had bought all manner of supplies both to repair and to restock food. They had even brought a new sanctum stone on board, along with enough liquid wood to reconstruct the hull two times over. Everything the Kingfisher and its crew could need, provided they could still be saved.

"Been meaning to ask," said Jack. "Shouldn't we have brought more than just a repair crew? I mean, something like the wizarding SAS, or mercenaries or bio-engineered assault turtles with acid breath?"

Etchemin smiled and buttoned open his coverall, revealing a set of two fibre-glass wands, three tomahawks and a no-maj device Cygnus had heard Etchemin call a 'sawn-off shotgun'. Cygnus fingered his own wand.

"We might be a bunch of old fogies," said Etchemin. "But Cygnus and I are both well-equipped to deal with scumfucks."

Indeed they were. Those cultists wouldn't know what hit them.

Cygnus was about to get some rest himself, when two members of the Info-Wizards crew burst into the observation lounge. The Info-Wizards crew, all three of them, were, in fact, on board this very ship. One of the stipulations of their support was that they could come along to document any world-shattering discoveries. The three of them seemingly loved a good conspiracy and from all signs so far there was very much one afoot. Though who was actually at the heart of it was still much of a mystery. Regardless, Info-Wizards was very much on the case and on the air, as broadcasts to the UK continued. Making use of a rather convoluted mix of something called muggle satellite and the wizarding wireless.

The elderly Newt and the young lady Charlie seemed to be out of breath and immensely excited. "Pardon us, misters Black, but we've made a rather interesting discovery. Or rather, young Charlie here did."

Cygnus and Etchemin shared a look. "Go on," Etchemin spoke warily.

"Well," said Charlie. "It was really a stroke of luck."

"Don't be modest," said Newt. "In short, we continued our research into that bottomless well of shell-companies that looped back onto itself. We brought all the papers on board and sorted through them again and again looking for things we might have overlooked. And then, Charlie came across a slip-up."

"There was a mislabelled address… or rather, an address they had forgotten to obfuscate," Charlie shrugged, blushing slightly. "It just looked off."

"We got in touch with some of our contacts… bit difficult from a muggle ship in the Arctic mind you… but we found out that that address belonged to a proper non-shell company, which we tracked all the way to the owner of the whole lot."

"Get this," said Charlie. "It's Lawson Laurel."

"Lawson Laurel?" Etchemin rubbed his chin. "The Texan shipping magnate?"

"Yes," said Newt. "The bloke who owns just about two-thirds of all the portkey-hubs and an entire merchant fleet."

"I know him," said Cygnus. "I've met him while I was younger, must be forty or thirty years ago. Jovial man, open and boisterous. Very American, a little annoying, but a shred businessman."

Newt nodded. "That's how most would have described him. But some twenty-five years ago, he… changed. Almost overnight. Lawson Laurel became a complete recluse, drawn completely into the shadows. Nobody has seen him in over a decade and it's unusually hard to look into his company dealings."

"Curious," said Cygnus. Next to him, Etchemin's expression darkened considerably. To a point that Cygnus saw deep concern in that grizzled face of his.

Etchemin turned to the duo and spoke in a gruff voice. "You won't put that on the radio-show," he said. "If you know what's good for you."

"Don't worry," chuckled Newt. "We are well aware of slander-laws. And we haven't told Antonin yet."

Etchemin showed a humourless smirk for the briefest of moments. "Being sued for slander will be the lest of your worries…"

The way those words were spoke filled the others in the room with dreadful unease.

---

About seven hours after the distress call has been detected, the Ural arrived at the source. Cygnus and Etchemin made their way to the bridge and witnessed Captain Sergey's reaction to finding the source.

"Blyat," said the captain as he gaze out the window through a pair of binoculars. "Ship was not trawler. Is old-timey sailing boat."

"No sign of life," muttered Cygnus. The Ural had come to a full stop some fifty meters away from the Kingfisher and had not been subtle about its approach. Especially since it had also announced its presence by way of a very loud foghorn. This was worrisome.

"Let's get ourselves on board," Etchemin said grimly.

"We prepare helicopter," said the captain.

"That will not be necessary," replied Etchemin to a rather befuddled captain.

"Jack," said Cygnus to his muggle friend. "To you befalls perhaps the most dangerous task of all: placating Andromeda when she wakes up and explain to her why we left the Ural while she was still asleep."

Jack briefly saluted playfully, obviously unaware of the sheer amount of danger he would be in.

"Nice knowing ya, bud," chuckled Etchemin. "Hope you can swim."

When Etchemin and Cygnus left the bridge, they were both met with a cold that penetrated them to the very bones. Their rather old bones, freely admitted. The weather had changed as the fickleness of the Arctic was wont to do. Thick snow was falling while the wind was picking up. Visibility was already starting to fade. All in all, it quite reminded Cygnus of those winter missions in the Northern American states so long ago now during the war against Grindelwald. Though even those days were not quite as cold as today. The snow and fog did conjure up old fears: not being to see far enough ahead to see threats looming up in the distance.

They made their way to the heliport where the hired people were already waiting. The people hired to inspect and, if necessary, repair the ship were gathered on the heliport clad in coveralls. Most of them were young, below thirty. One of the girls looked fresh out of Hogwarts. Still, this group came highly recommended and had been willing to do this mission 'under the table' as it were. William, their foreman, had broom in hand but was looking rather nervously. "Erm, Mister Black, I… We… uhm…" he started to say.

"What's on your mind, lad?" asked Cygnus.

"Sir, I mean no disrespect," he started. "But we're about to take off on brooms right in front of the entire muggle crew of this ship."

"I understand your concern, but you and your friends won't get into trouble," said Cygnus. "Let's just that violations of the Statute of Secrecy mean very little when you possess a significant amount of money."

The young ones looked unsure of themselves, but when assured of the protection of the Black family, resumed their duties. To the shock, horror and in some cases delight of the full-numbered Russian crew watching them from the ship's walkways, the seven riders took off with their brooms and shot towards the ship, gasping and pointing at them all the way.

The Russian Ministry would have some work to do to fix this situation, but Cygnus and Andromeda had a sizable bribe already placed in the bank-accounts of those responsible for the clean-up. None of this would ever reach the light of day.

The first thing the group did was to search around the ship to assess the Kingfisher's status. It was rather hard to miss the sizable hole in the side of the hull and it became rather obvious that the ship had been abandoned. The group actually entered through the hull where the engineers started to assess the extent of the damage. As Cygnus and Etchemin explored the ship, there were literally no signs of life. It was beyond eerie to walk these empty decks in a ship now cold as a stone, while the wind howled and the wood creaked in defiance all around them. Cygnus didn't want to admit it, but he was getting increasing worried. Looking over at Etchemin as they searched empty cabins, he could tell the old man felt quite the same.

It wasn't until they stepped onto the upper deck and found the wheelhouse that they were starting to get some clues about what exactly had happened here. Next to the muggle device emitting the distress signal was a big magically protected chest designed to survive just about anything. A tap of the wand later and it was opened, revealing plenty of books and documents. Letters from the crew to family members, diaries, the captain's logs and a big stack of notebooks containing scribbles in Bellatrix' distinct feminine calligraphy. Cygnus smiled as he leafed through them: Bella had catalogued everything with her usual obsessive eye for detail. From descriptions of the ship, to interviews with crew, analysis of the voyage itself, thoughts hope and dreams… there'd be enough information here for an encyclopedia, let alone a single book. Also there was Hermione's laptop computer. Though he had no experience with working it, he was certain that Jack would be able to glean something from it. What this told him that his children and the crew had been desperate and left these documents here to have their story be told if the worst were to happen.

"We missed them by two days," said Etchemin while he leafed through the captain's log. "There was an accident on board. A murderous creature was inside the ship. A black unicorn."

"What?!" Cygnus ribbed the log from his hands. "Impossible. It… It can't be the same creature we faced five years ago. The Ministry took it. Secured it."

"Apparently not good enough," snorted Etchemin. "One thing every free American knows instinctively, Cygnus: never trust the goddamn government."

There was a knock on the door and William stepped inside before receiving an answer. He hissed as he tried to rub himself warm. "Sirs, we've, uhm," he stammered, his teeth clattering. "We've done our initial assessment."

"Well?" Cygnus replied. "Out with it, lad."

William nodded. "There was a sizable explosion in the hold, looked to be something volatile that got kicked around in secure storage and started a chain reaction. Nothing on a standard voyage could muster such an explosion, so we gather it has something to do with the machinery on the passenger deck. It blasted a hole through the hull and the protective hull plating from the inside and damaged the internal structure. The ship would have been crushed by the ice in a matter of weeks."

"So they made the decision to abandon ship," Etchemin rubbed his chin.

"The ship was already frozen stuck in the ice when the explosion took place," said William. "The Sanctum Stone is missing and the sails were firmly secured. If you look outside, you see them rolled up and frozen against the mast. We have no idea what happened to the Sanctum Stone, but there is a replacement waiting on the Ural, ready to be installed if need be."

"I take it you can repair the ship, then?" asked Cygnus.

"Definitely," said William. "We can repair the damage to the ship's superstructure and the hull with liquid wood. Replacing the hull plating itself will require the ship to be dry-docked for proper repairs, but we can do good enough for a patch job to get the Kingfisher moving again."

"Good," said Cygnus. "Anything else to report?"

"Only that a ship this size usually has one or two long-boats as support craft and those are missing," said William. "Judging from the cargo deck missing most key supplies, I'd say they loaded those into the boats and took them with them."

Etchemin took back the captain's log. "Thankfully our captain was very thorough in his log and left directions to where they were headed. We're only two days behind them. Get working on the ship, son. We'll get working on finding those people and our kids."

Etchemin then pulled some sort of strange device from a satchel. It looked to be a round ring of sorts, roughly the size of a large dinner plate, with a focusing crystal set in the middle. Etchemin placed the ring on the ground and copper arms moved into place as the crystal rose up to hold it above the ring. The contraption started to whir and pulse with magical energy, until a loud click could be heard. William was taken aback while Cygnus looked on with fascination.

"Sir?" asked William. "Should I be concerned?"

"No, son," smiled Etchemin. "This is just a bit of Native-American ingenuity. This is a mobile portkey system. Unlike regular portkeys, this nifty little device aren't to a preset location. No, no, this device communicates directly to its twin, which we have yet to set up. It's a two-way system too. Now, it does have some limitations regarding distance and, well, obstruction. A direct line of sight is preferred for comfort of travel, but, well, not having that only makes the ride a little bumpier. And I doubt cold, hungry people will mind all that much."

William nodded. "I'll see to setting up warmth stones in here then, sirs."

"Good thinking, son," nodded Etchemin. A nod to Cygnus later and the two men stepped out into the cold where their brooms were waiting for them. The wind had really picked up now and Cygnus pulled his hood tighter. Having gleaned the information from the captain's log, Etchemin had an exact direction to where they were going: the supposed location of the Lost City of Hyperborea, some twenty miles out. They were hoping to find shelter there. The sad irony was that they were merely a few miles away from the find of a lifetime before everything went sour.

"You feel it, don't you?" asked Cygnus. "The magic in the air?"

"I do," said Etchemin. "But something about it has the hair on the back of my neck standing up."

Together they took off, into the bombardment of snow and the biting cold. Thankfully, the wind was mostly at their backs. The two men zoomed forward with dazzling speed despite extremely poor visibility. Faster and faster they went, crossing the distance far further than could ever be done on foot. A spell in his hand revealed the presence of nearby life, though unfortunately all they found below were polar bears. As they travelled further, it seemed that the crew and their family had likely reached their destination by now.

"Just like old times, ey Cygnus?" yelled Etchemin over the wind.

"Minnesota wasn't this bloody cold!" Cygnus yelled back.

"Shame Megedagik and Alphard couldn't be here with us," yelled Etchemin.

"Alf needs two brooms to move his arse into the air these days!" called Cygnus. "And they have to be reinforced. Even then he only gets half an inch off the ground!"

"HAH!"

They almost didn't see the shadow of a mountain looming from the snow-laden fog until it was too late. With the speed they were going, all they could do to was to veer sharply to the side and hope for the best. Cygnus swore he could feel rock scraping along the side of his trouser leg as he forced his broom to cooperate. He was almost thrown off the broom because of the momentum and held on with all his admittedly feeble physical might. Once he had recovered and his heart was beating at a reasonable rate again, he yelled out for Etchemin. "Etch! You alive?"

"Yeah," sounded from the distance. "Let's circle around and get out feet on the ground!"

It wasn't long until they found an entrance into the ice next to a hastily constructed cairn of rock. They exchanged a silent look, warning each other to be ready for anything, before the two men entered the caves with wand in hand. The ice caves were somewhat of a marvel of magic; they had been carved into the eyes very long ago, perhaps thousands of years ago, and enchanted not only to keep its form even with the ever shifting ice all around the mountain, but also keep the air inside quite comfortable. It was, however, not enchanted to keep someone from scratching arrows into the side of the caves. Though it pained him to see such ancient magical construction by their ancestors sullied in such a manner, Cygnus more than understood the need.

Following the arrows, both men started hearing shouts and voices in the distances, accompanied with loud bangs. Cygnus and Etchemin exchanged looked and picked up the pace. They finally came to a strange looking door. And beyond that? Pandemonium.

Cygnus barely had time to take in the state of this cavernous white room itself and focused on what the inhabitants were doing. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Nymphadora, along with several other soldiers pushing back against stones near the mouth of a collapsed tunnel. Something… or rather, somethings were on the other side of the rubble. Rubble which was about to give.

Through openings poked through the mountain of stones, clawed arms and fleshy tentacles were flailing about, trying to grab and scratch everything within reach. Three large scantily armoured women were shouting and hacking at the deluge of limbs with heavy axes while three wasps were buzzing around stinging all they could. Tahki stood by the side, wand in one hand and a muggle revolver in the other: loud bangs sounded as his distant niece unloaded her shooting iron into the flailing tentacles. Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, several others were gathered around what looked to be five injured people on cots and had set up a magical defense around them. To his surprise Goneril, one of the maids from the mansion, was there. What was she doing here? She was supposed to be on extended leave to sort family affairs.

Before they could even announce their presence, the magical tremor went through all of them. Stones and people alike were sent flying backwards into the room as their feeble line of defense finally gave way from the pressure. Cygnus gasped when a myriad of creatures rushed into the room to pounce upon its defenders. Creatures which had once been people, but had become twisted almost unrecognisable wild fiends with their only thoughts being of mindless destruction. Multiple limbs, torn skin, bodies sewn together and moving awkwardly. Flailing tentacles. Flashbacks of many years ago to that farm near Fargo assaulted his mind. This was an all too familiar sight.

But he had not come here just to see his family slaughtered before he very eyes. A guttural cry escaped his lungs as magic burst forth from his wand. A fireball exploded just inside the tunnel. The pathetic cries of the creatures mixed with the nauseating smell of burning flesh. Fire worked all too well on these fiends. The distraction worked well enough for the defenders to regroup and regain their footing.

"Granddad!" sounded Nymphadora.

"Gramps!" sounded Tahki.

Good. Hearing their voices was good. It energised Cygnus enough to pour more anger and determinations into his spellcasting. With one flick, his magic picked up one of the flailing half-men off the ground to smash it into the wall where it expertly spread itself into a smear much like a fly on broom riding goggles. The armoured women, he had to admit, were impressive fighters. The largest one, a blonde woman with many braids and impressive muscled arms, let out a cry and brought her axe down to split one of the creatures in half, before swinging around her axis and unleashing a terrifying arc of lightning. She must be a Neo-Viking, he concluded. Cygnus wondered how these women found themselves on the Kingfisher, but was too grateful to question it. They were obviously protecting the crew and, per extension, his family.

Tomahawks were sent flying right into the skulls of more shrieking creatures. And then, another figure appeared from the tunnel. He looked like a large and muscular South-American man, but there something distinctly off about the way he walked when he emerged from the shadows. And his face. His face bore a grin far too wide and large to fit on any human face. Looking upon his expression made Cygnus feel uncomfortable to the point of feeling ill. Though by the way the crew reacted, he was not the only one.

Etchemin froze. One thing he had never seen, not in all the times he had stood with him, was Etchemin being completely and utterly terrified. And Cygnus could see Tahki was equally disturbed. There was something distinctly off about this man, and it more than just being flanked by a phalanx of monstrosities.

And just as quickly, Etchemin recovered. His hand reached in his coat and, like a flash of lightning, pulled his sawn-off shotgun from his coat to shoot it point-blank at the man. Cygnus decided that muggle weapons were terrifying as the man's face and chest exploded in a deluge of blood and gore… and yet he remained standing!

Etchemin regained his commanding presence. "Cygnus, Tahki! Focus on the man! Everyone else, deal with the creatures!"

With newfound confidences, the Neo-Vikings and the crew members still standing resumed their assault with axe and wand on the creatures flanking the man. Shrieks and cries were heard. One of the crew members, a dark-skinned woman with curly hair, got mauled across the back but was quickly aided by Nymphadora, who blasted the creature off its malformed feet. When one of the multi-tentacled creatures got to close to the wounded, the vampire doctor snarled and pounced on top of it, tearing at the creature with inhuman strength. Comically enough, a goblin ended up being punted across the room.

The man, his face now half gone and his brain exposed, lumbered forwards, whispering arcane words while Tahki unloaded her pistol into his chest. Etchemin put some bright red tubes into his weapon to take another shot, but it was up to Cygnus to stop the spell. Fortunately, there was plenty of rubble to choose from. He raised his hand and dozens of heavy sharp rocks shot up to slam into the mutilated man. Though it did nothing to stop him directly, it did cut short whatever magic he was trying to conjure.

Another load bang went off and more of the man was blown into a red mist of gore. One arm was gone, his guts were rolling out of his stomach cavity. And yet he kept coming. Both Etchemin and Cygnus shared look and a nod. As the Neo-Vikings were finishing off the last of the monsters, they both rolled their wands through the air in unison. Crushing pressure came down upon the man as both their spells merged and created a pocket of intense gravity under his feet. For an instant, the man experienced a hundred times normal gravity and it was enough to snap bone and tear flesh. He was reduced to a puddle or flailing broken limbs and torn flesh. Finally, this was enough for the man to… not die but be disabled? What the bloody hell kind of creature was this?

Something else started happening now. The flesh started bubbling and contorting. And again that deathly terror reappeared in Etchemin's eyes.

"EVERYBODY! CLOSE YOUR EYES! DO IT NOW!" Etchemin shouted.

Tahki let out a sob and flew into her grandfather's arms. The last thing Cygnus saw before he closed his own eyes was the two of them squeezing their eyes tightly shut while Etchemin held his granddaughter with all his might.

Cygnus heard the sound of… of… he really didn't know what he was hearing. A sucking sound as something large and heavy was moving through the room. It felt wrong on all levels, but he couldn't quite place why. It's like he was hearing two different things at once, sounds and voices mixing. Then he heard the voice.

"Father?"

Bellatrix?

"Father, I'm here!" sounded his daughter's voice. "I'm cold and I'm lost. Father, please look at me. Please, just open your eyes. I'm right here. Please. I love you."

"DON'T OPEN YOUR EYES!" shouted Etchemin, his voice sounding as if he was shouting from under water. "THE VOICE LIES! IT IS NOT YOUR LOVED ONE OR FRIEND OR CREWMATE! IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIVES THEN DON'T OPEN YOUR GODDAMN FUCKING EYES! DON'T SAY A WORD! DON'T ACKNOWLEDGE IT! ACKNOWLEDGING IT WILL ONLY MAKE YOUR ORDEAL LAST LONGER!"

"Father, please!" sounded the pleading voice of Bellatrix, one of incredible all-encompassing sadness. "Why won't you look at me? I'm right here… I missed you so much. Didn't you miss me? Why won't you look at me?"

For some reason, that voice carried all the sadness and pain with it he had felt during his daughter's 33 year long absence. It was so incredibly hard to not simply open her eyes and to embrace his tearful little girl. But, he knew better. Whatever this thing was, he shouldn't look at its true form under any circumstance. He kept his eyes firmly shut.

"BE STRONG! IF YOU FAIL, IT WILL TAKE EVERYTHING THAT YOU ARE AND ROB YOU FROM IT!"

He felt a soft hand, Bellatrix' hand, on his shoulder. Once more the voice pleaded with him to just open his eyes. The sad voice of his daughter, asking him why he didn't love her anymore. Cygnus' breath quickened, his hands shook. It was getting harder and harder to resist. He wanted nothing more than to tell Bellatrix how sorry he was. How painful those 33 years without her were, the guilt he had felt. He wanted to tell her than he should have fought harder for her when she was younger, how much more he could have done. But more than anything, he was just wanted to open his eyes, take her into his arms and tell her it would be alright.

And yet… where Bellatrix was standing, where her voice came from… it was something large, something foul and something that filled the core of his being with utter and complete dread.

Until finally.

Silence.

Deafening and utter silence.

For a moment, nobody dared to say or speak. Hell, even breathing was loud enough to warrant concern. Minutes passed, perhaps. Because it certainly felt like a bloody eternity.

"It's over," said Etchemin, relief clear. "It's safe now."

Cygnus snorted. "Is that really you, Etchemin? Or just another trick?"

"Fair question," said Etchemin with humour on his voice. "And a good one."

That sounded like him, alright. Finally, Cygnus dared to open his eyes. Only to meet the harrowed faces of people having go through their own hell. The house-elf chef was crying, the sailor with the copper skull was punching the wall, the vampire doctor looked beyond disturbed. Thankfully, none of the wounded people had been conscious enough to suffer through it. The large blonde Neo-Viking woman was trembling uncontrollably. The red-headed Neo-Viking woman was crying into the arms of the black-haired one. All had been put through the same kind of personal hell he had been put through, it seemed.

"Is everyone accounted for?" asked Etchemin.

"Bloody yeah," muttered the goblin as he rubbed his own back. "You two came in here like a bunch of scabrous archmages! We had it under control!"

"Yes," muttered Etchemin as he pointed to the remains of the monsters. "I can… see that."

"Is that thing gone?" asked the sailor with the copper skull as he looked around anxiously.

Etchemin snorted. "Believe me, you'd know if it was still here."

Nymphadora was upon Cygnus and it felt good to take his granddaughter in a tight hug. At least, for now, there was a moment of peace to be enjoyed. "It's good to see you, my girl," said Cygnus. "Where's Bellatrix and Hermione?"

Nymphadora motioned her head towards the shaft leading down into the complex. "Hermione went ahead of us. Not sure where she is. Bellatrix went looking for her. Only place she could have gone is down there."

"And where is the ship's captain?" asked Cygnus.

Nymphadora gave him a sad smile. "You're looking at her," she replied, much to Cygnus' surprise. "Captain Kirk died. Made me captain. I have to see my people to safety now, yeah? They're my responsibility."

Cygnus looked his granddaughter in the eye and saw she finally looked her age. The voyage changed her a lot, and for the better. Though he always loved her dearly, it was good to see that the Nymphadora was no longer a selfish spoiled child, but a responsible young woman. He was surprised to see Goneril approach them, her eyes downcast and her demeanour nervous. The raven-haired maid curtsied without meeting his eyes. "Master Black…" she spoke with a demure voice.

"Hey," said Nymphadora reaching out to raise the girl's chin high. "None of that shite, yeah? Granddad, meet… meet the latest member of the Black family. Goneril Black. Marriage was at sea. We, uhm, dated in secret for two years."

Cygnus was admittedly surprised, but still delighted. Nymphadora had never expressed desire for a partner and any relationship she'd had had never lasted long. "Well," he said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Welcome to the family in that case. I suppose you want me to have a little chat with your mum to ease her into it?"

"Nah," said Nymphadora. "I'll face the music myself. And I should focus on getting my people to safety anyway."

A mature young woman indeed.

After Tahki had apparently introduced one of the Neo-Viking women to her grandfather, Etchemin set up the twin of the portable portkey and the crew started with evacuating the wounded back to the ship. One by one, they teleported out to safety, in the end leaving only Etchemin, Nymphadora, the three Neo-Viking women and himself stood inside the ravaged room.

It was the blonde woman, their leader, who tapped the hilt of her large axe to the ground. "We offer you our axes," said the woman known as Sunniva. "Let us stand with you against the dangers of Alfheim."

"A brave offer," said Etchemin. "But you are needed on the ship."

The black-haired one, Svari was her name, was disappointed and about to open her mouth to protest before Etchemin cut her off. "You are needed to protect the ship, its crew and," he turned to Sunniva with a smile. "My granddaughter. Should we fail down there, which is very much a possibility, you three will be the last line of defense. And after what you have seen and heard, you will be needed. Remember. If the creature shows its true form, do not listen. Do not look. Do not answer. Do not acknowledge. Understand that they will not face you in honourable combat. They will exploit you, manipulate you and take from you all that you are. Do you understand this?"

The three women nodded solemnly and, with some reluctance, joined Nymphadora at the portkey. As captain, Nymphadora was the last one through. A much matured young woman indeed. Andromeda was going to be so proud of her. Possibly even more proud than he was.

"You see that, don't you?" said Etchemin as he stood at the edge of the shaft leading down. Above a shaft, a symbol. Two cubes against each other, angled 90 degrees with two open triangles flanking either side. Just like what they had seen painted on the wall in blood at that farm near Fargo so long ago. And here it had hung, in the Lost City of Hyperborea, the birthplace of wizardkind.

"You know more than you were letting on," said Cygnus. "From the start. Even back at Fargo, yes? I would have liked a bit a warning."

"Forgive me," said Etchemin. "But knowing too much about our ancient enemy is dangerous, something our people know only too well. I wasn't sure they were even involved and purely knowing too much about them puts you at risk. But know them now by the name we have given to these fiends. Cygnus, we face skin-walkers, the most dangerous enemy the entirely of humanity has ever known."

Cygnus nodded grimly and looked down at the shaft, a gaping black portal leading into the dark abyss of whatever structure this was supposed to be. Only now did he have time to look around and take in just how alien and unexpected the design of the 'lost city of ancient wizards' was. This was certainly not what he had expected. But he had no time to dwell on it. His girls were likely down that shaft and they still had to be found. But when Etchemin motioned to the pile of flesh which had once been a man, and spoke his next few words, he was filled with mortal dread. Not for himself, but for his girls.

"Sunniva said there were two of them."