Soul Mayhem_Zed's Chronicles of the Parallel Universe Disruptions by John Hindmarsh

Author:John Hindmarsh [Hindmarsh, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rexon Press
Published: 2019-01-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Where do you commence a search in Londin for a nest of soul stealers? The first step was to send a message to every mage I knew, not only in the city, but also across the country. There could be leads anywhere. I asked them to check every possible rumor and provide details if they encountered anything relevant. On reflection, I suspected Smithfield Market here in Londin, famous for its ‘dead meat’ market and which has functioned since the Middle Ages, could be a place to explore. Soul stealer hatchlings were renowned for their ravenous appetites, and it was a possibility the nest had been placed nearby. There were other meat markets in Londin, of an entirely different nature, and I planned on starting that search in Soho.

My first stop was the Members Bar in Guildhall where I had honorary membership; it was renowned for its source of gossip and was frequented by members of the market. I had contacts and might learn something by simply listening.

The bar was crowded and noisy. I caught the eye of one of the bartenders and signaled for my usual beverage. No, I told you I don’t have a drink problem. The bartender, Robert Groves, was a budding mage and part of my network. He brought a coffee for me and a glass of water for Leopold to a small table we’d managed to inherit. I suspect Leopold’s stare caused the vacancy.

Robert managed to make himself heard above the noise. “Wassup?”

“You received my message about a nest of soul stealers?”

“Yeah, got that. Cruel.”

“Thought perhaps areas near Smithfield would provide a likely location. They’ll need a lot of meat when they hatch.”

“Good one. There’s one or two of the butchers here tonight. I’ll get them to drift over to you. There’s other meat markets, remember.”

“Yes. We’ll explore some of those, too.” I thanked Robert for the coffee and water, and he returned to his bar. Five minutes later a ruddy-hued man, overweight but well-muscled, sat at the third chair.

“Name’s Smitty. Can I ‘elp ya?”

“Zed.” I pointed. “This is Leopold. Can I get you a drink?”

“Nah. Gotta get ‘ome or th’ strife’ll trouble me for th’ rest of th’ night.” He laughed at his own joke and we joined in.

I said, “We’ve been told there’s something nasty breeding, possibly in the vicinity of the Market. They’re evil and deadly. They’ll want lots of meat for their first few weeks. Significant amounts. Possibly a couple of cows a day. So, if you’ve seen strangers around buying that quantity, we’d like to know.”

He straightened and looked directly at me. “Hmm. What are you? A mage, like Robbie?”

“Yes.”

“Known ‘im since ‘e were a toddler. Good lad. Yeah, I gotcha. If I ‘ear anythin’ I’ll tell ‘im, like. I’ll tell me mates, never you mind. All right.” He stood, swayed back and forth for a few seconds and launched himself toward the exit.

Over the next hour we had five or six similar experiences. The Market men were willing to

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