Wolfsbane
Getting Cian to the Assembly building was easy, but getting him seen was taking too much time. I had to literally lose my mind and demand someone, even if they had to call and wake them up, because someone needed to get to us and treat him. For whatever reason they were dragging their feet and finally I had had enough, making a scene in front of several Assembly members, not committee, before I demanded they put us in a room and figure it out before I made them.
“We’ve stabilized him as best we can with magik, but the wound is already infected and the Wolfsbane is slowly taking over his system. If it does, one of two things can happen: he will transform into the wolf permanently or it will kill him. There’s no way to predict which; it’s genetic lottery.” The on-site nurse was explaining to me as we stood outside of Cian’s room.
“Is someone coming to treat him soon?” I asked as calmly as I could, tired of being given the run-around.
She sighed, not looking at me before she responded, “No. The only lycanthropic physician the NYC Order has is on holiday in Northern Canada seeing family.”
I almost burst, “What? And there isn’t another? You only have one?”
“Yes, but we are trying to get in contact with him so he can maybe guide us through what to do, but he’s in a remote area and its difficult to do so.” She rebutted, sounding a bit agitated.
“I can’t believe out of all the preternaturals in the city, there isn’t another doctor that knows how to treat Wolfsbane poisoning. Or someone! Anyone! I know for human’s it’s mostly treating the symptoms, but I don’t know about werewolves.” I was trying so hard to keep myself from getting hysterical on the nurse; this wasn’t necessarily her fault.
“I got in contact with Mistress Graves and she is looking into it. Meanwhile, he is being monitored and all we can do is wait.” The nurse patted my shoulder, effectively ending the conversation as she walked off down the hall and left me alone with Cian.
I entered the room to find him on the infirmary cot with a blanket up to his chest, his skin sallow and eye-sockets dark. He already looked so awful and I had no clue how long it would take for the poison to course through his whole body and roll the dice on his fate.
“I’m so sorry, Cian,” The sobbing started as I sat down on a stool next to the cot and took his lifeless hand in mine, “I wish I knew what to do. They didn’t brief me on this sort of stuff. Why don’t other werewolves know how to fix this?”
I let the tears take over as I laid myself over his arm and let things come in waves before the sorrow turned to anger and then transformed into determination. I wasn’t going to let him change permanently into the wolf and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him die. I had to fix this since it seemed like no one else could.
“How did he do it? It was on his teeth? Did he put it on after he bit me? How? He never had a chance...” I asked myself, my hand falling over the wound on my neck.
I checked it in the reflection of a small mirror on the wall and noticed that it didn’t look bad at all and had already started to scab over even though I was covered in dried blood. I knew I wasn’t a werewolf, so aconite wouldn’t do the same thing to me as Cian, but it would make me ill and I felt fine aside from the obvious. Something wasn’t right.
“The Assembly has an apothecarist, a Cryptid chemist named Sly. It looks like aconite poisoning according to Howl, the nurse too, but what if there is more to it? Could Sly help me? Am I being ridiculous here?” I talked to myself, now pacing back and forth in front of the cot as I thought.
Maybe I was on to something. If I wasn’t, what would it hurt for me to test the theory? We still had to wait for someone to do something anyway.
I scanned the room until I found what I was looking for, a cotton swab still sterile and wrapped. I tore open the wrapper and pulled the swab out before I leaned over Cian and gently swabbed the bite mark as best I could before I slid it back inside the wrapper and walked out of the room.
“Morgan,” I met the vampire in the assembly hall and motioned for him to come to me, “The alchemist, Sly; I need to speak with him. He wouldn’t happen to be in, would he?”
“Always. Sly lives in the laboratory like a proper mad scientist. He’s three levels down, but why do you want to see him?” He asked curiously, eyeing me for an answer.
“Something isn’t right about this poisoning and I’m wondering if Sly can tell me more using this.” I held up the swab to show him.
Morgan asked in interest, “You swab the wound?”
“Yup. Something just wasn’t sitting right because I was bitten too and am not showing any symptoms of aconite poisoning, but there was no time for that vampire to apply it to his fangs somehow before he got into the brawl with Cian. It had to already be there.” I postulated for him, hoping what I was saying made sense.
“But what is it if not aconite?” Morgan asked rhetorically, but I had yet another theory.
“Oh, I think it is wolfsbane,” I corrected him, motioning for him to lead me to our destination as we spoke, “But I think that either I’m immune or it’s mixed with something to strengthen its potency. Another herb perhaps, possibly magik; I’m not sure.”
Morgan and I tossed ideas back and forth as we got on an old lift and dropped several floors, marching straight down an almost pitch black corridor till Morgan knocked on what I assumed to be a door because I couldn’t see.
“Wanking it. Come back later.” A voice responded from the other side.
“Zip it up, buttercup. We need your help.” Morgan fired back, holding my hand in the darkness.
There was a grumbling on the other side, some stomping, and then the old wooden door flew open to reveal a man not too much taller than I with two spiraled horns protruding from goggles, his pants unbuttoned and belt loose.
“What the fuck do you want, Morgan? I just invented this thing I was going to test and then you—” The man stopped when he saw me, his lips pursed.
“Who’s this then?” He asked, not addressing me personally.
“Your future Broomwood Queen. And we need your help so the pud pulling is going to have to wait.” Morgan introduced me followed by a command as he pushed past who I assumed was Sly to enter the laboratory.
“What do you need at this hour?” Sly asked, following Morgan to make sure he didn’t touch anything, of which he already was.
“I need you to test something for me, if you can,” I interjected, holding out the swab, “A friend, Cian, may have been poisoned with something other than aconite, which is what we assume it to be now. I swabbed the wound in hopes that maybe you could figure it out.”
“I know Cian, good guy. Real good guy. Helps me get all sorts of ingredients and components for my experiments. And you say that he was poisoned with wolfsbane?” Sly double checked with me and I confirmed.
“According to other werewolves and a nurse, but something just isn’t right about it. It seems that it was delivered via vampire bite, but I was bitten by the same one and show no symptoms of poisoning.” I explained, following the cryptid over to a table where a microscope and other equipment sat.
He grabbed a slide and swabbed it before dripping a solution on top and then popped it under the microscope lens, letting out a whistle when he looked through.
“Can’t tell what it is just by looking, but there is definitely something off about this. There’s hefty bacterial growth, rapid growth, and it looks as if they’re mutating. This isn’t natural infection, it’s powered by something.” Sly spoke to me, his eye still to the lens.
“Magik?” I queried, wondering how accurate my theory was.
“Possibly. I’ll need to chemically test this and get a toxicity report, but that’ll only take a moment.” He informed me as he took the swab and ran around the table to what appeared to be a ridiculously large cauldron.
“A little bit of this,” He spoke aloud as he tossed something from a jar into the swirling soup, “And a few of these. One of those. And sprinkle of this. In goes the swab—”
There was a poof and then a plume of smoke before the liquid in the cauldron went from green to red to clear. Sly took a piece of parchment paper and dipped it in the liquid before he held it over a candle. The paper seemed to dry instantaneously, going from regular parchment to an array of colors in stripes along the strip.
“What does that mean?” I queried, striding over to see what he was doing now.
“It’s like those litmus tests. These color stripes indicate the identity of what is on the swab. And based off the shades, hue, and pattern, I can say that it is definitely wolfsbane and what appears to be blood magik. Most likely the plant was grown using blood to feed it.” Sly explained things to me as he held the parchment up to the candlelight, still studying the color pattern.
Blood magik. I was starting to understand that sort of thing all too well. How common was it?
“Either of you happen to know how common this sort of magik is? Who all uses it?” I asked.
Morgan was the one to answer me, “Only a select few use blood magik in their practices: Infernals, Shadows, and witches such as yourself. Most other factions don’t play with magik at all and the ones that do, don’t mess with blood. Too potent, too much room for error.”
“So, not vampires.” I asked for clarification, just to be sure.
“Nope. Vamps do use magik from time to time, not counting the innate abilities they possess, but it’s rare. Things like what I do aren’t necessarily considered magik, although this cauldron is. Blood magik is not common much anymore, however.” Sly returned, now tutting around a shelf full of bottled herbs.
That meant one thing and it didn’t seem as if the other two caught it.
“That means someone gave the rogue that aconite, whether in plant or macerated or liquid form, he didn’t make this himself. Whoever it was had to know what they were doing when they gave it to him...they had to know he was looking to harm or kill. And that vampire did what he did because he knew most likely, if he found me, I’d be with Cian. This was all for him.” I sighed, trying so hard not to put too much thought into it because it was making me sick.
“It isn’t your fault, Briar. This is something that can unfortunately happen for you, Queen or not, and Cian knew that. He accepted his role as guard and he did his job.” Morgan tried to soothe me, but I didn’t want to hear it.
“Sly, is there anything you can do for him? Do you know how to cure wolfsbane poisoning in lycanthropes?” I turned to Sly. He was an alchemist and worked for the Order; he had to know something.
The cryptid sighed, not unlike I did, before he replied, “I do, actually. It’s a very old method, but tried and true. Problem is, I can’t work on him.”
“What?” I asked with surprise, “Why can’t you work on him?”
“Not allowed; policy. I’m not an Assembly appointed physician, just an alchemist. I can make cures, potions, gadgets, whatever if I am requested to by authorized personnel, but I can’t perform any actual healing work.” He clarified, now mixing and mashing something in a mortar and pestle.
“Are you not certified? I don’t know how schooling works within this world.” I needed more info, because if he could somehow cure Cian, I was going to find a way to make him do it.
He let out a scoff as he subtly shook his head and replied, “Oh, I am not certified through any Order associated schools, but Cryptids are actually notorious healers, weird I know, and I learned from some of the best, the ancients. They wouldn’t have appointed me alchemist otherwise, but never a doctor. Optics.”
“Fuck optics. If you’re that well-versed in healing, I need you to work on Cian. They’re never going to get ahold of that doctor in Canada and he isn’t going to last long enough for him to make it back here anyway. He needs to be treated now.” I was demanding of him without outright bullying him into the job.
“But I can’t. I’m not authorized. If I do and otherworld forbid something goes wrong, I am liable and they will hang me out to dry. It’ll be the end of my career and maybe my life.” Sly argued as he finished what he was making and packed it into a jar.
“I authorize you then. I know I haven’t been inaugurated yet, but I’m authorizing it. I trust you and your knowledge on the subject and something is better than nothing. I need your help, Sly.” I pleaded, letting the tears start to fall again.
“Fuck.” He heaved a heavy sigh before letting out a string of similar curse words, “I’ll do it. If you’ve got my back, I’ll do it. Let me just pack up some things on my cart and we can go take a look at him.”
I felt so relieved in that moment, a wave of calm washing over me as I waited for Sly to pack his things so I could take him back to Cian’s room. I still had this awful feeling that things were possibly going to get worse before they got better.
“It’s definitely—bad. Necrotic. It’s spreading topically, it seems.” Sly stepped aside so I could see Cian’s exposed bicep, what skin that was showing through tufts of dark hair looked purple.
“Prognosis?” I queried, staring at Cian’s still form on the cot, darkly ringed eyes closed peacefully.
“I—I don’t want to lie, Briar, but it isn’t looking great. I’ve got him sedated for right now and I am going to work something up, but it may not be strong enough. I’m trying, though.” Sly informed me with a hand on my shoulder and I thought for a moment I was going to collapse.
There was a knock at the door then and before anyone could respond to it, the door opened and in walked Branwen.
“What’s going on here?” She asked softly, pointing between the three of us.
I told Sly I would back him up and I was going to keep that promise.
“Since the lycanthropic physician is out of town, I recruited and authorized Sly to treat Cian with tried and true remedies.” I announced to Branwen, standing my ground, even if I felt a bit shaky.
“I’m not quite sure you can do that.” She returned, eyeing me in a strange way.
“But I can,” I returned, taking a step closer to her, “I know you are currently sitting Queen, but I had to make a decision and Cian’s life is more important than policy and protocol at the moment. This isn’t regular wolfsbane poisoning, Branwen. Just look at his arm.”
She did as I told her and glanced over to the cot, her brow furrowing before she turned back to me, “Then for now, I suppose this is fine. But can I speak to you for a second out in the hall, Briar?”
I nodded before casting a look at the other two and exiting the room with Branwen to stand in the hall and speak quietly.
“We have been trying to get ahold of Dr. Thrali, but the reception is bad. We are trying to do what we can, Briar. I have a feeling you don’t believe that, though.” She started, holding herself tall as she spoke. It had me feeling like she was trying to be intimidating somehow.
“I wouldn’t say that, but I do think it’s rather stupid to only have a single lycanthrope doctor on hand. He doesn’t treat the whole city, does he?” I asked her, trying to understand the oversight.
She thought for a second, as if she were trying to make sure her words came out just right before she replied, “No. Dr. Thrali only treats a certain clientele. There are backdoor doctors throughout the city, but they aren’t accredited like he is.”
“What does that mean, ‘accredited like he is’? And a certain clientele—meaning rich folks.” I think I caught what she was insinuating and it irked me.
“Accredited through the Otherworld Institution for Preternatural Studies. It’s a college run by the Order here in the states. There are many fields to choose from and we only accept the best from the institute here in the Assembly.” She explained and then it all really clicked.
The Assembly seemed like it was a little classist and definitely had a nepotism problem, myself a prime example regardless of my lineage. I had already noted the racism as well and I figured there were many other problems that mirrored those of the human world.
“Well, I think that’s ridiculous. If you go into a field like that, it should be to help people, to discover, to heal, but it doesn’t sound that way with the person you chose. I assume the physicians in the city are like what I described—and you call them, those outside the university, ‘backdoor doctors’. This is about keeping appearances and keeping circles small and that is no way to run a government that is meant to help and care for its people.” I boldly replied, livid and filled with fire.
Branwen looked taken aback, but her facial features relaxed and she gave me a slight smile, “Understandable. We need policy changes; it’s true. Maybe you can bring those to fruition. But for now, we need to discuss this rogue, undocumented vampire situation, which is why I really brought you out here. Since you encountered him again tonight, is there any description you can give me so I can report back to our officers?”
I had more than that, actually.
“I saw his face this time; he showed me.” I told her, pausing for the grand reveal, “And he told me he’s the reason the amulet was created.”
Branwen’s eyes widened slowly and her mouth fell before she uttered a name, “O—orlok.”
“Count Orlok?” I almost laughed because surely she was kidding.
She scoffed at me, “Where do you think the name came from? Orlok was the reason your ancestor Matilda and her close family manifested that stone. The story was never told to us in detail, but we know that Orlok was a blight on their small town, killing livestock to start before he moved on to people. They knew something needed to be done and after one of their own, a Broomwood, was killed, they created the ritual that would bring about the Blood Stone. If this is the undocumented vampire we are dealing with, we have a bigger problem than we thought.”
Great. More problems.
“And why is that, besides the fact that he seems like he’s older than dirt?” I questioned, wanting to know just exactly what it was I was dealing with.
“Orlok is a master manipulator and his vampiric abilities are stronger than most. He tends to go through cycles of sleep and wake, usually slumbering in a secure location for up to fifty years at a time. When awake, he chooses a location to infiltrate, gathers an army through hypnosis, and tries to take over both the human and preternatural communities in that area till things dry up and he moves on. He hasn’t been sighted anywhere in over thirty years and now he’s awake again, on the hunt.” She enlightened me and I felt my stomach drop.
It was the stupid necklace, of course.
“Great. More bullshit to add to the pile.” I breathed in agitation, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“And I hate to add more to that, but I have a few things to mention to you before inauguration, which is in two weeks.” Branwen started again and I really wished that she could let it wait, but she continued, “You’re test on the basics is in a week, but pass or fail, you will still become Queen; it just tells us what we need to work on. You need to choose your personal cabinet also, if you haven’t already; I’ll get the paperwork on that.”
She paused for a second and looked down at her feet and I could physically see her swallow with what she was about to say because I knew she wasn’t finished.
“And there is also the discussion on finding you a proper mate. I don’t know how much of that subject you are aware of, but I have the handbook for that.”
Fuck. I had forgotten that Morgan had mentioned that. Somehow, the thought was even more terrifying than Orlok.
“Uh, I know a little. But we can talk about all this later; thank you for making me aware. Right now I need to focus on Cian.” I was done and I made it apparent with my abrupt stop in the conversation.
Branwen seemed like she understood and dismissed herself down the hall before I stepped back into the infirmary room to find a vampire on one side of the cot and a cryptid on the other, both looking sullen and upset.
“What? What is it?” I asked, instantly alarmed.
“Sly gave him an infusion,” Morgan gestured up at the bag that was hanging from his IV, “But it doesn’t seem to be working. His whole left side is wolf-ish currently.”
No. No, it had to work. Sly was my only hope.
“There has to be something else we can try.” I insisted, but I knew that if he had another option, he wouldn’t be sitting there like that.
Sly pursed his lips with a shake of his head, “I’ve got nothing, sister. This remedy works about ninety-five percent of the time, but there is always room for error because nothing is one hundred percent effective. There’s also the fact that it’s magikally enhanced, which may be why it isn’t working. I don’t know what else to do.”
I was scared, trying not to panic as I gripped the pendant tight in my hand, searching for something through my ancestor’s blood that would give me an epiphany as to what to do. Despite his current forced transformation, something told me that he still might die and that was just unacceptable.
“Try and get some sleep, Briar. We are going to take turns watching over him and if anything changes, one of us will come get you.” Morgan tried to put me to bed, but I didn’t budge at first.
What good was I going to do just standing here though? Maybe I needed to be alone to think.
“There’s a lounge just down the hall to the right, behind a red door. Lots of cushy seats and stuff.” Sly pointed in the direction of the room, his eyes still focused on Cian.
I thanked them before leaving silently, the pendant still in my hand as I rubbed the blood stone and thought. I had to fight magik with magik, but I had to really tap into it if I was going to find what I was looking for and to do that, I needed a little peace and quiet.
Finding the door to the lounge was almost a straight shot, but when I opened it, I found that I wouldn’t be alone like I thought.
“Hey, Briar. Any news on his condition?” Lizzie asked me, pushing up off a puffy chair.
I didn’t like her much, but I also wasn’t going to lie to her. She did feel something for him in whatever her way was.
“Not good. I recruited the alchemist to treat him since the lycanthropic doc is not in town, but his remedy, an old one, didn’t seem to work. But I think it has to do with magik.” I answered her, noticing one of those single cup latte makers; I could use the comfort.
“Magik? A vampire using magik and wolfsbane? What sort of magik?” Lizzie had all sorts of questions, but I could tell she was on edge so I made her a cup of coffee too.
“Blood magik. Meaning the wolfsbane was most likely grown by feeding it blood and that sort of magik is generally only used by Infernals, Shadows, and Witches. This vampire either bought, stole, or traded for this after someone else created it.” I gave her my theory as I handed her a cup of coffee.
Lizzie took the steaming drink with a nod of thanks before she responded, “Using blood to poison blood. That’s some intense stuff.”
Blood to blood. It was in the blood, from sender to receiver. Was blood the answer I was looking for?
“Lizzie, weird question, but I got bit too and the wolfsbane had no affect on me. I know I’m just a witch, but there’s human blood within me, meaning I should have gotten sick, but I didn’t. Do you have any foggy idea why that could be?” I queried, sitting down next to her in another chair.
She replied pretty quickly, “Because you’re a bloodborn witch; perks of the job. Your kind is immune to most poisonous plants considering you use so many in your practice. You also seem like you’re immune to blood magik, but maybe that’s just a Broomwood thing.”
My blood couldn’t be tampered with. And from the looks of it, it might have had extra healing properties. Was there a possibility that a blood transfusion might work? If so, we’d have to be the same blood type and I had no idea what that looked like in a werewolf. But there was possibly another way.
“I’ll be back. I just had an idea, so pray that it works.” I announced suddenly before jumping up, almost spilling my coffee.
“Uh, okay. You not gonna tell me what it is?” She called out after me, but I was already gone from the lounge.
“What? What’s so pertinent at right this moment?” Sly grumbled his question as I dragged him down the hall to the lift.
“I’m immune to the poison and the magik within it. I don’t know about a blood transfusion, but can you possibly concoct a treatment or antidote using my blood?” I questioned him as I directed him into the lift and sent us down.
“Hm,” He thought, finally stopping his struggle, “Possibly. There are a few recipes I can try, but it may take some trial and error.”
“I don’t care; anything. There’s also another theory I want to test with Morgan, but you’re not needed for that. What do I need to do as far as my blood goes?” I wasted no time, pulling Sly off the lift as we marched down the dark corridor to his lab.
“Let me get a good draw, at least eight vials, and then I can test some things. But I need silence for that, so you’ll have to go somewhere.” He flicked his fingers at me as we stepped into the lab and he immediately went over to a metal table to get ready to draw my blood.
Sly had a very gentle hand when it came to phlebotomy and after sitting there for some time, he had taken all he needed and then dismissed me with a flick of the wrist, so I left him to do his work and returned to the main floor. I wasn’t sure how long it would take for Sly to come up with something, if he could, and Cian’s condition was only going to worsen. We needed something to at least keep the infection at bay and give him a little revitalizing boost and that gave me in idea, if it was even accurate.
“Does vampire blood have healing properties?” I led with my voice as I entered the infirmary room to find Morgan lounged back with a book, very closely scooted against the cot.
“Does who do what now? No ‘hi, how are you, Morgan? How are you handling things, Morgan? Can I give you a BJ to soothe your nerves, Morgan?’” He returned, never looking away from the book.
I repeated myself, “Does vampire blood have healing properties? I know some lore states that it does, but I don’t know if that’s true to life.”
Morgan put the book down and gave me an inquisitive look as he replied, “It does. But it won’t heal Cian, if that’s where you’re going.”
“No, I figured it wouldn’t, but I’ve got Sly working on something. I was wondering if you could use some of your blood to maybe slow the infection while we figure things out. I want to buy him some time.” I explained myself.
I sat down next to Cian and took his hand again, lifeless, but still warm. I was terrified now because that hand was furry with sharpened claws, a change that had now crept across his bare chest, obscuring his tattoos.
“Can’t hurt to dose him, really.” Morgan shrugged, standing to get a better angle as he hovered over Cian.
He tore into his wrist without any more questions, the blood dripping in beaded red over Cian’s blanket as he brought his arm to the wound and let it coat in blood. From there, he took the running blood to Cian’s mouth, me helping him part his lips while we dripped it into his mouth. And it was almost instantaneous. It didn’t do anything to the involuntary shifting, but the purple and puffiness had abated quite a bit and his breathing seemed stronger.
“It won’t stay like this; I’ll have to set up a feeding routine until we can figure out how to stop this nasty magik.” Morgan huffed, furrowed brow looking down at Cian before he sat again.
He might have been just as upset as I was.
“Right. I’m going to see if I can help Sly. Do you have this handled?” I asked the vampire, knowing I wasn’t able to stay.
He gave me a single, solemn nod before he picked his book back up and continued to read.
I knew Cian was in good hands.
