“Come on, Able,” Ant said as Viktor picked up their bags. “It’s time to go to work.”
/~/~/~/~/
The drive to the Raven Estate took three hours, the landscape shifting gradually from the familiar streets of their neighborhood to rural roads.
Ant sat in the passenger seat of Viktor’s car, watching the scenery transform through the window. The city gave way to suburbs, then to sprawling farmland, and finally to dense forest that crowded close to the narrow road on both sides.
The trees grew thicker and taller the deeper they drove, their branches forming a canopy overhead that turned the bright morning into premature twilight.
Viktor navigated the winding roads easily enough, although Ant noticed his grip on the steering wheel had tightened as they passed a faded sign marking the boundary into what was colloquially known at the Academy as “vampire county” – so named all because one particular coven had established itself far from human cities, which was considered unusual in itself. Most vampire covens were in cities that offered a wide range of feeding options.
In the back seat, Able shifted restlessly. The dog had been growing more anxious for the last twenty minutes, his ears swiveling toward sounds Ant couldn’t hear.
“Easy, boy.” Ant reached back to rest his hand on Able’s head. “I know it feels different here.”
Itdidfeel different. Ant had noticed the change about fifteen miles back - a subtle shift in the ambient magic that permeated the air itself. The closer they got to the Raven Estate, the heavier the atmosphere became.
Viktor took a sharp turn onto an even narrower road, this one barely more than two tracks through the undergrowth. “We’re about ten minutes out.”
Ant nodded, withdrawing his hand from Able to rest it on his knee. The dog whined again, a soft, worried sound.
“The magic in the air is bothering him,” Ant explained. “There’s a lot of residual darkness here.”
“Yeah.” Viktor’s voice had gone flat. “This whole area has been vampire territory for centuries. The soil for miles around has likely got layers of evil infecting it. It’s not a good place.”
Ant filed that information away. If the residual magic was heavy on the approach road, actually conducting a scene reading inside the estate itself was going to be significantly more difficult than he’d anticipated.It’s worth noting. I may need to use those grounding exercises Robert suggested.
The trees began to thin slightly, and Ant caught glimpses of stone walls through the foliage - ancient boundary markers, he realized, probably original to when the estate was first established. Many were crumbling, overtaken by moss and vines, but they still radiated a faint magical signature.
Territorial markers. Likely meant to warn off anyone approaching that they were entering claimed land.
Then the walls appeared. They were clearly a later addition. They were twelve feet high, made of solid granite, and topped with iron spikes. They ran parallel to the road on both sides, forming a corridor that channeled all traffic toward a single destination.
Viktor slowed the car as they rounded one final curve and the Raven Estate’s gates rose before them. If the walls were huge, the gates were massive, standing at least fifteen feet tall, their designs forming intricate patterns of ravens in flight, their wings spread and talons extended. The metalwork was old - centuries old - and every inch of it hummed with active magic that made Ant’s skin prickle.Blood-magic wards.
He’d encountered blood magic before, but never on such a big scale. The gates practically vibrated with power, layer upon layer of protective enchantments woven into the physical structure. The magic didn’t just guard the entrance - it was as if they wereevaluatinganyone who approached, testing them against some predetermined criteria.
Checking if we’re a threat. Determining our power levels. Cataloging our magical signatures.
“Fuck,” Viktor muttered. “The wards have been upgraded a shit ton since I was here last.”
Ant studied the gates more carefully. Viktor was right - the outer layers of magic were newer, probably added within the last few decades. But beneath those, he could sense the truly ancient protections, wards so old they’d begun to take on a semi-sentient quality.
Claudius has been reinforcing his defenses. Which suggests he’s afraid of something - or preparing for war.
The gates remained closed. There was no intercom, and no visible guards, but Ant knew they were being watched. There had probably been eyes on them since they had turned onto the access road.
Viktor kept the car idling about twenty feet from the gates, his hands tight on the wheel. “They’ll open when Claudius decides to let us in. That could be in thirty seconds’ time or thirty minutes.”
“A power play, in other words.”
“Everything Claudius does is a power play.”
Able whined again, louder this time. Ant reached back and gripped the dog’s harness, not restraining him but providing reassurance.
“I’m here. We’re safe.” Well, mostly safe, anyway. The wards wouldn’t attack them unprovoked. They were expected guests, and their appointment was arranged by the Justiciary. But Ant could feel the latent threat in them, the promise of what would happen to anyone who tried to force entry.
These wards could reduce an attacking force to dust, or at least completely disorientate them.The thought was professionally interesting and personally disturbing. Ant thought about what that could look like while they sat in silence for nearly five minutes.
