Minerva Gold and the Wand of Silver Pt. 16

"You did mention that," Harry said, quietly. "Did he name anything? Anything at all?"

Minerva frowned at Harry's intent look and serious tone. "Unless I misheard, he said Azrielnacht. That's night, and the name. I think Azriel is supposed to be an angel or something..." She said, slowly. "I read it somewhere, I think...?"

She trailed off, seeing Harry's expression. His hand went to his chest and he sagged into the nearest empty seat.

"What is it?" Kat asked, frowning.

"I...my...Mr. Villamont..." Harry rubbed his palms over his face. "He was involved with a lot of the end of the war - he was gassed in the last attack of the final battle, on November 12th, in the astral realm. It was a fight to capture the site of a Prussian ritual. The Azrielnacht. It was...a...blood curse. Derived from some pre-wizarding magic, witchery from way back, from the Crusades, except they never actually did it back then. Just theory, nobody was strong enough to cast it, but the Prussians had made it. They never used it, and they were going to destroy it before the armistice."

"Wait, destroy it?" Minerva asked. "Why attack?"

"Because the War Ministry didn't want it to be destroyed. They wanted it intact," Harry said. "From what Mr. Villamont told me, from what I've heard...the Azrielnacth was too terrible even for the Prussian General Staff to unleash. They used gas, Minerva. They used gas and they used weirdingergers and the Nightmare Child, but they wouldn't dare to use this. Minerva?"

Minerva rubbed her palms over her chest.

"I remember where I read it. Azriel is the name that Moslims use for the angel of death," she whispered, the memory sparking in her mind from some library book of foreign myths. "As in, curses on Egypt and all that."

"They named a spell after that guy?" Gregory asked. "The plague of frogs fellow?"

"Frog, singular," Minerva replied automatically, a strange fact dredged up from her grandmother's stories. "And no, I think they were thinking of one of the other plagues." She shook her head and walked forward, glaring down at Harry. "Tell me what it does, Harry."

"I don't know, Minerva!" Harry said.

"Your uncle told you a lot of things-"

"But not this!" Harry said.

"You said you looked into things!" Minerva grabbed his shoulders. "What does it do, Harry!"

"I didn't want to know, Minerva!" He stepped away, shoving her hands off. "I...I didn't want to know! I didn't look. I...I had to live there, Minerva. I had to live with that man." He looked aside, Robert sliding an arm around his shoulder as Kat took Minerva's arms, gently drawing her away as Minerva's heart raced in her breast. She closed her eyes, but the vision in her mind, of an terrible angel coming down and slaying anyone in a home, stealing breath and life and-

Her blood ran cold.

Her eyes opened.

"They were discussing what to do about the Soviets," she whispered.

"Mein Gott," Katt said, her hands tightening around Minerva's shoulders.

Gina, who was watching this, looked nervous. She shook her head.

"N-No. There's no chance that the government would do that. It wouldn't be honorable!" She said, sounding nervous, her voice tight. "Whatever it is, it can't be that. You must have misheard. Or misunderstood! Or..." She trailed off, then closed her eyes. "What do we do? This isn't't like the wand of silver. This is going on in London."

"Well, if it's a blood curse," Robert said, quietly. "I know someone who can smell out a blood curse from half a world away."

His eyes and Minerva's eyes met.

She nodded.

***

The memory of the scratchy sound of the wireless rang in Minerva's ears as she walked down the corridors of Hexgramatica, her friends filing after her, their feet making soft scuffing noises as they strode forward through the quiet and the dark.

"Several days before, we received the most remarkable of announcements from the Soviet Union - the revelation that a new force has been unleashed into the world, as powerful as electricity or steam power. This force is, in fact, an old force. One kept secret in Europe and, through our shared brotherhood, in America as well. That force is to be revealed in America today..the force of magic."

Minerva came to the doorway that led down to where the Enrage was kept. She pushed it open with her palm, then turned back to the others. Harry had his hand at the ready, as did Kat. Minerva drew her wand and breathed in. Each of them nodded. They started down the stairs.

"This remarkable ability, which is innate to a few lucky individuals, allows for the creation of what would normally be called impossible, with but a few specially chosen words and a select tool. This may fill you with fear or apprehension. My friends, I am here to tell you that both reactions are imprudent and unwarranted. While they lived in secret and worked in secret, these incredible people were as American as you or me. They are called wizards, and now, thanks to their being brought into the light of day, we are working to ensure they will cooperate with the government and the interests that drive our economy directly."

Minerva strode down the stairs and then hesitated, fractionally, before she stepped out into the room with the Watcher. She breathed in, then sprang out. SHe hit the ground, rolled, and flicked her wand. "Kemb Drit So!"

The tip of the wand glowed and, as the Watcher sprang forward, the ground humped upwards, forming into an uneven, crenelated wall. One leg caught on the edge of one such crenelation and the other went over. The whole beast started to tumble to the side, crashing down shoulder first. The Watcher skidded, tail lashing, three heads screeching loudly as Harry, Kat, Gina and Selene stepped out, aimed their wands. A chorus rang out.

"Cidak Mru-Trom So!"

Green lightning slammed repeatedly into the Watcher's chest and shoulders, causing it to roar in pain and agony. Flesh boiled, rippled, then exploded into a wave of hissing steam as one of the green lightning bolts bit deep - but despite the damage, the Watcher shook itself, rolled and came to its feet, snarling. Smoke wafted from around the mouths of each of the three hound heads, and it swung around as Minerva tensed, then shouted. "Duck!"

"We expect that with the power of wizardry in our hands, the return to prosperity and, more importantly, to peace around the world will be swifter and easier than we can imagine. Even now, Congress is working to draft the Act of Arcane Institutions - to best integrate these wizards to our society and our world."

The flames roared out from the beast's mouths. The flames licked along the walls and floor as Kat rolled out of the way and came to her feet, smoke drifting from her robes. One head swung around to snap at her - but instead of closing teeth around shoulder or arm, the nose instead met the sharp knuckles of her trench wand. The whole head jerked backwards and the watcher let out a squeak as Gina thrust her wand into the mouth of another head.

"Cidak Mru-Trom So!"

The bolt of lightning fired from the wand burst from the top of the watcher's third head, and the other two heads howled in agony. But it still did not seem even close to dying. Minerva scowled, then realized something. She looked up, then down, then swept her wand down in a curving arc, shouting. "Kemb Drit Miċelnes So!"

The ceiling shuddered, then grew a spear of stone thick enough around to have crushed a car. The tip slammed into the spine of the Watcher, crunched into the floor, and then went still. The last two surviving heads whimpered. Blood splattered the floor. Then it dropped dead - and glowed brilliantly. A moment later, it had reverted to the collection of metal tubes, pipes, wires and bits of cloth that was a Watcher's true shape.

Gina panted, lowering her wand. "That was bracing!"

"Hurry," Minerva said. "If my occlusion spell worked, then they won't notice that for some time - long enough to get her out."

They all strode forward, and with Robert at her back, Minerva came to the door she had visited so often in her dreams. The door waited for her. She pointed at it and snarled. "Kemb Drit Deur." She flicked her wand and the door squealed and ripped open. Light shone in, spilling along the leather clad, wire studded body of Cecillia Morganna-Wellesley II.

She lifted her head, her eyes glowing with shimmering red light as she husked out. "Took you long enough, little Witchling," she whispered, her voice a quiet croon.

"Cut her down," Minerva said. "We have to get her out of here." She stepped close, cupping Cecillia's cool cheek. The vampire's lips kissed to her palm, making her heart race, her cheeks flushing furiously while Harry and Kat went to the restraints, and softly, softly, Cecilia whispered to her.

"A terrible darkness grows in London. Vileness. Twisted. Distorted. I've smelled this magic when it was pure and clean, witchling," she whispered, then sagged into Minerva's arms, Minerva taking her weight.

"We know," Minerva said. "That's why-"

She turned.

And heard the clattering sound as Selene dropped her wand, and Robert yelped in surprise.

For striding into the room, hands collapsed together, face stern and furious, was Merlin, flanked by Professor Ravenwood and Stevenson and Stengrad, their wands leveled ahead of them.

Merlin looked down his red nose at Minerva.

"I am very disappointed in you, Schross-Sableknight," he said, quietly. "Very, very disappointed in you."

Minerva squared her shoulders.

"My name," she said, her lips twisting in a scowl. "Is Golding."

She thrust out her wand.

"Cidak Slan Man!"

The bolt of lightning flew out and struck Merlin's palm. He caught it, clutched it, held it up, then opened his palm. Smoke exploded between his fingers, drifting upwards - and Minerva gaped in clear shock.

Three stun spells hit her at once.