Capítulo 17: Death and Domain - Chapter 17
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I walked out of the store with a new contract under my belt and a pretty girl's promise to write to me during the summer. Not the worst deal I ever closed, that's for sure.
Now, I already expected to get a good deal at Dervish and Banges. Mr. Dervish was a simple man, and his shop was more about his passion for magical inventions than about making profit. Gold was never the priority to him.
And it wasn't as if I was trying to rip Mr. Dervish off, either. Our new deal was solid to both parties. A reputation for fairness, even in the smallest things, could only benefit me in the future.
The only reason I was making so little money in the first place was because Octavian set the prices with him himself. Naive as he was, Octavian had bought everything that Rowle fed him, as his was the first store he went to when looking for places to sell his stuff. Then when Octavian signed with Dervish and Banges, he simply based his pricing on what the deal he'd made with Rowle.
Changing that one though… that would be tricky. Isaac's warning kept coming back to me every time I tried to formulate a vector of approach there. Charm and inventiveness wouldn't cut, that's for sure. Mr. Rowle would try to milk me dry no matter how many cool little trinkets I brought to bear.
In reality, I had nothing on my side there. Mr. Rowle had all the hard power in the situation. I couldn't turn to a different competitor in Diagon Alley, and even if I simply elected to pull out of the deal, I didn't doubt him and his allies would turn their sights to Dervish and Banges as the only store left selling my products, and then the little quaint store would be up in flames—or worse.
Isaac's explanation about this Club of Sixteen had shed some light on all of it, but I needed some first hand knowledge of the comings and goings of the business world in Britain. That's why the outing had been such a success, and not just because of my improved source of money.
As I arrived on the outskirts of the town, where the clustered houses met the edge of the forest, I pulled out a black ring from my front pocket. The projectors and the toys had been a matter of an afternoon to me. The ring was what really kept me busy the past week.
Idly, I rolled it between my fingers, watching as the black metal caught in the sunlight shining through the trees. It didn't look like much, just a band of metal with no precious stone to act as a focus or runic carvings to it.
When Mr. Dervish questioned me about it, I told him it was just another model I'd been working on that I thought he would like. He spent ten minutes filling it up with magic under my request, only for nothing to happen when I tried to activate it.
Of course, nice man that he was, he just laughed it off and told me to keep working on it. I played my part too, acting all embarrassed like a child who, when in front of his father, couldn't replicate the awesome thing he'd been bragging about. Then I pocketed the ring and went on about the business, no harm no foul.
In truth, the ring was half the reason I'd come here today. I could do a lot as a master enchanter—all except power my inventions. Visiting Mr. Dervish just happened to be two birds I could kill with one stone. Three, if I counted talking with Livia.
"Dipsey," I called when I was far enough away from anyone else. It wasn't quite midday yet, but since it was summer, a lot of families had taken to shopping around Hogsmeade, and I didn't need any undue attention.
The elf popped in front of me a few seconds later. "You ready to be goings home now, Master Princelin?"
I smiled. "That's right Dipsey, if you don't mind?"
She beamed up at me. "Of course not, Master Princelin sir. Dipsey's more than happy to help." Ah, elves, such easy creatures to gain their loyalty.
Then with a snap of her fingers and the short-lived sensation of being squeezed and hurled through a straw, we were back on the front gates of the Prince Manor. Really, only a fool would victimize a creature which made your life so much simpler.
To be sure, they weren't the ultimate secret weapon hidden beneath a veneer of magical xenophobia I excpeted. Even though Dipsey was a Prince house elf, she couldn't bring someone else straight into the house via apparition—and I was the Prince heir too. Nor could they just pop into another house with wards or anything crazy like that.
But man they were convenient creatures to have around.
"Now Dipsey," I told her as we slowly walked up the driveway. They had short legs, elves. "I really appreciate you taking me to Hogsmeade today. But you can't tell anyone, okay? You'll keep my secret, and I'll keep yours."
She shifted under my gaze. "But… but what if Master Princes asks Dipsey?"
I stopped at the front door and patted her on the head. "Then you can just tell him you took me to Hogsmeade to meet a friend, alright? I don't want you to get in trouble."
The elf looked up at me, her big eyes shining with unshed tears. "Master Princelin be too kind," she said.
I chuckled. I just rather not end up with a Kreacher situation in my hands. "Whatever you say, Dipsey," I said, waving her away. "Go on now, I'm sure you have a lot to do, and I already look forward to lunch."
Dipsey bowed low enough she almost tripped up and flipped over her head before she disappeared. Shaking my head in amusement, I followed her inside before turning toward my room.
Thankfully, I didn't have to worry about Flavius seeing me just getting home. He started his drinking early these days, which meant I had the house to myself most of the time.
When I got to my room, I didn't waste any time in preparing. Opening the bottom drawer of my dresser, I threw out the smattering of clothes I left there and dislodged the bottom wooden plank. It's not a proper fake bottom, but there's a small gap in between the plank and the thick wooden slab at the foot of the dresser that lets me stash a thing or two.
A few half-completed enchantment projects. The money Octavian had left after all my expenses. Then, at the very back of the cramped space, I found what I was looking for. Smiling, I brought out the muggle syringe I'd bought when I ventured out to buys some materials.
Since Flavius had upped his day-drinking game, he was usually back before nightfall, stumbling through the halls toward his room before he passed out. That's when I intended to act.
For now, I waited.
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I didn't have to stew in anticipation for long. Flavius came back earlier than I expected. I watched him from the shadows, slinking behind him unnoticed as he blundered his way across the house. I didn't need to be Batman to follow the man. He had all the awareness of a clumsy panda when he was drunk.
However, instead of going straight to his room like he did every day for the past ten days when he got home plastered, Flavius stopped at his study first. I almost cursed when I saw him closing the door behind him. I'd be pissed if I had to reschedule.
The thing is, the door to his study locks automatically when he closes it, but the one in his room had no such perks. I had tested both thoroughly. The one in his study was actually enchanted, much like the special cabinet in the library, only it was keyed to one person instead of to a bloodline.
And even though I could tell the enchantment on it was old and slowly weakening, I couldn't do anything without being able to properly use magic. Overriding the enchantments with my own would be easy enough, but not if I couldn't power them.
I was just about to call it the whole thing off when, thankfully, Flavius stepped back out of the study, a bottle of cheap firewhiskey in hand. I shook my head. Of course. More drinking. Something probably stopped him from having his fill in some dingey bar somewhere, and he had to finish the daily quota at home.
Bad for his liver, but good for me. After he got to his room, it was just a matter of waiting outside until the snoring started before the mission was live. As expected, the door to his room swung open with nothing but a turn of the knob.
Really, the guy had let himself go. He didn't even have the wherewithal to use a simple locking charm in his own room. Naturally, after realizing his door was always opened, I had done a sweep of the room a dozen times over. No luck, unfortunately. Stupid as he was, Flavius kept whatever money he had left in his study, no doubt.
To be fair, I didn't touch anything suspicious in the room either, as you never knew what insane trap a wizard laid out for any nosey interloper.
Stalking up to the bed, I look down upon my passed out father, syringe in hand. Just the sight of him made the itch rise up in me. Killing him would be so easy. Hell, I wouldn't even need to go all out and cut his throat. I could think of a thousand ways to kill him in a way that wouldn't directly implicate me.
A discreet poison. A funnel and a ton of alcohol. A magical accident. All doable, but one drop of veritaserum on my tongue and I would spill the truth out. The Princes were no lords to wiggle their way around the legal system by influencing this or that minister, and it only took one investigator looking my way to make it all go to shit.
No. Unless I found a way to get rid of him without drawing any attention my way, it would have to wait until I mastered occlumency.
Drawing the blood itself proved anti-climactic. I kept expecting Flavius to wake up in a rage, meaty hands flying to my face, and then I'd really have to go ahead and commit a wee bit patricide. I flinched at every little murmur or hitch in his breath, one hand going to the knife I'd taken to keep in my waist.
But it seemed that firewhiskey did something nasty to a man, and my father stayed down until I had enough. Just in case, I drew enough for a few uses.
Back in my room, after saving some of the blood in a small glass vial and tucking it back into the gap in the dresser, I stood in front of the tall mirror with the black spots, hyping myself up for what was to come. I twisted the black ring in my hand anxiously, shifting it from one finger to the other before I decided I had waited enough.
The sun was just beginning to set outside, and this was the perfect time to do what I needed.
I brought the syringe up and released a single drop of blood right onto the ring. Instead of dripping down and making a mess, the blood coated the metal surface in a thin red tint, before slowly being absorbed into the ring.
Tearing my eyes away from my hand, I looked ahead into the mirror just in time to see my creation coming alive. The air around my hand shimmered at first, then spread out all across my body, slowly taking shape and color, forming the solid image of the body based on the blood in the ring.
It blinded me for a moment, as the shimmer went over my head and covered my eyes. But when I could see again, Flavius Prince stood before me in the mirror.
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