My patience bid farewell. Though I would have much rather spoken with Herr Drasche in an attempt to learn more about Theophilus, he had now put us on a kill-or-be-killed footing three different times. Removing Fragarach from its scabbard, I charged with the intention of decapitating him, but then a sudden thought caused me to change my mind. Instead, I brought the blade down hard on his right arm between the wrist and elbow, severing it and spraying blood on the sand.
“Manchen Leuten muss man einfach ihre Hände abhacken,” I told him. He bellowed incoherently as I sheathed Fragarach and picked up his amputated hand. Making sure he could see me, I removed the Glock 20 from its grip and tossed it into the ocean. Admiring the simplicity of it, I shrugged and followed up by tossing his hand into the ocean too.
When Werner saw that, his roar went subhuman, and I felt through my tattoos that he was drawing energy from the earth—but not in the same way that I did. All the little microorganisms in the sand, any insects or small vertebrates nearby—he was draining them all since he couldn’t drain me. I pointed Fragarach at him and said, “Stop that, or you lose the other hand.” He stopped, taking loud gasps of breath between clenched teeth, but I noticed that his arm ceased squirting blood and a flicker of orange lit his eyes.
“Now that you’re disarmed,” I said in German, “I’m curious. You wish to kill me but appear to know very little about what I can do. It leads me to speculate on your source of information. Since your source obviously left out some critical details regarding my abilities, perhaps he or she was less than honest regarding other things as well. Now, I will freely tell you that I was informed of your existence less than thirty minutes ago. This intelligence came from a vampire named Leif Helgarson.”
Werner Drasche cursed creatively and I smiled.
“Ah, yes. We have both been played, you and I. Leif expected me to kill you before I could learn of his role in sending you after me. Am I correct in thinking your removal would allow him to get closer to Theophilus?”
The lifeleech considered, then nodded.
“And he warned me of your coming in order to gain a measure of my trust. But I have had occasion to learn that Mr. Helgarson does nothing that does not serve his own self-interest. Any information he provides that appears to help you actually helps him. And the same goes for his services. Now that you have had occasion to learn the same lesson in a very painful way,” I said, flicking a finger at his stump, “perhaps you and I can part without loss of life or further injury. Perhaps we can even find your hand. If I retrieve it, can you reattach it and heal?”
Drasche nodded. “I have done it before.”
“Then, seeing as we are both victims of another’s machinations, I propose a gentleman’s agreement. First, we shall forgive each other our trespasses. Second, I will provide your severed limb so that you can be whole again. And third, henceforth we shall not trouble each other or conspire to do so with others. Live and let live in peace. Agreed?”
Werner Drasche needed little time to weigh the advantages of this.
“Agreed,” he said. “Though I can speak only for myself and not for Theophilus.”
“Understood,” I said. “Your loyalty to him is admirable, though I would point out that right now Leif Helgarson is a far greater threat to Theophilus than I am. And a far greater threat to you, I might add. But act or not on this information as you will. It is not my business. Our business together is easily concluded, and I am happy that we could find some ground on which to agree.”
<Atticus, is everything okay?>
Yeah. A misunderstanding. Going to see if I can give this guy a hand.
Binding like to like—skin to skin—I created a bond between Drasche’s left hand and his right, which floated somewhere in the nearby tide. The binding found a target in the waves, and the right hand flew out of the water with a crab already attached to the trailing muscle tissue. Once Drasche was giving himself a low five, I dissolved the binding and shooed the crab away.
“There you go, sir,” I said. “I am a man of my word. Give me a moment to grant us both some space, and I will release you from the sand. I hope that if we ever meet again, we can do so amicably and partake of something potable. May harmony find you.”
Werner Drasche said nothing as I took my leave; he just fixed me with a glare of stone and watched me go. Once I reached the spot where Oberon waited, I dissolved the binding on Werner’s suit jacket. He sat up and cradled his stump, holding his hand next to it. I switched to the magical spectrum and saw the lifeleech swell with stolen energy, his arm suffused with the white light of magic. It took him less than a minute to complete the operation. I saw him hold up the hand and flex the fingers as if it hadn’t been dinner for a crab in the recent past.
That was more than a little scary. He healed far faster than I did—faster than vampires and werewolves too. And it was entirely at the expense of other living creatures nearby. By all rights, I should have killed him for the abomination he was. But that was a moral path through deep woods that kept spiraling in on itself until there were no more abominations to kill but myself. Maybe Werner Drasche would give me another reason to kill him in the future—a reason that hadn’t been conveniently provided by Leif Helgarson. I could not expect a second confrontation with him to be so easily won as the first. But let that song be sung when it would: For now, refusing to be a pawn in Leif’s power games would suffice to keep me happy.
The arcane lifeleech stood, brushed himself off, and nodded once at me before turning toward the lights of Calais. I expected he would give Leif a little bit of trouble or, at minimum, speak some poison into the ear of Theophilus, and that would be satisfying as well.
Silhouettes rushed out of the city to meet Herr Drasche, and I saw by their gray auras and the red lights in their heads and chests that they were vampires. Werner Drasche was definitely not a neutral figure; he was an enemy to whom I’d shown mercy. Three of them remained with Drasche, but two passed him and ran in my direction—further evidence that his circle of acquaintances knew very little about me.
I unbound both vampires before they could get close. They melted messily into the sand. I was not neutral either.
<Can we go now? Because I’m really anxious to start asking you, “Are we there yet?”>
Yeah, buddy. I waded out to Granuaile and bound Fragarach on top of Scáthmhaide, then tied the holster of throwing knives on top of that. If we’re going to drown our sorrows in the literal sense, let’s get it over with.
Chapter 18
The first hundred yards or so was largely an effort on Oberon’s part to properly express how cold the water was.
<My nether regions have emigrated to my core and might never return. Maybe they’ll send me a postcard.>
He was pretty slow in the water and I wasn’t much faster; sea otters typically chase down sea urchins, which tend to have the top speed of a snail, so speed wasn’t at a premium. But Granuaile’s staff, sticking out horizontally from where we’d bound it, performed a valuable service: Oberon was able to drape his forelegs over it and keep his head above water and kick with his back legs. I did the same on the other side, and together we were able to make about ten miles per hour. Two hours wouldn’t be so bad, I figured, if no one messed with us, but that was far too much to hope for.
Avoiding the shipping was a challenge in itself; the Strait of Dover was one of the busiest waterways in the world, and we had to add on a bit of distance by swimming outside those lanes.