Uric the Oddball and the Great Goblin Uprising

Chapter 5: Headaches

The barrier was down. That was the first thing Louis noticed when he woke up. The second thing he noticed was the headless red-robed body that had cushioned his fall. There was a silence in the chamber that bespoke the absence of the demon.

Louis stood up quickly, and nearly fell again as a wave of dizziness swept over him. He felt the back of his head and winced. Apparently the body hadn't cushioned his fall that much. It was hard to tell if the blood on his hands was his, since everything in his vicinity was covered in the substance, but if it was, there was nothing he could do about it.

He shook his head, attempting to clear the fog that seemed to permeate it. He was supposed to be checking something...Checking...Uric and Mena. That was it.

Louis was sure his eyes passed over Uric more than once before they focused on him. Uric was standing in the centre of the bloody circle, staring at his hands.

"Uric?" he asked. His friend gave no indication that he had heard.

Louis looked the room over again. There was no sign of the demon. Perhaps Uric had dealt with it, or perhaps it was above them rampaging through Paris. Either way, he couldn't work up the energy to care.

"I'm going to check on Mena," he said.

He stumbled over to Mena and stared down at her. She lay with her head pillowed on his cloak, looking untouched by the carnage that surrounded them. He swayed, trying to decide what to do.

Magic. His wand. That was it.

It took another trip back to where he had fallen to retrieve the wand. He was about to cast the spell to revive Mena when he was reminded of how his cousin had met her doom. A failed self-transfiguration by a drunken witch was not a pretty thing, and while he wasn't drunk, he certainly wasn't up to his full mental faculties.

With a sigh, he bent down and gathered her clumsily into his arms. It was nice to have her so close. Had she been awake, she would have told him to risk the spell, and she would probably do something violent once she found out he had carried her when there were other options. But the decision was his...and it was taking most of his concentration to keep them both upright.

He bent down and awkwardly flung his cloak over one of his shoulders, then made his way carefully over to where Uric was still standing and staring at his hands.

"Uric? Uric! ...Uric!" It was only on his third cry that Uric finally looked up. Louis was shocked by his friend's appearance. Uric's hazel eyes were dull, and there was no animation to his face. He wasn't sure if Uric even recognized him. Somehow Uric's lack of expression scared him more than anything else he had seen this night.

Before he could say anything, though, life flooded into Uric's face. His friend gave him a puzzled smile.

"Are we playing a game?" he asked.

"What?" said Louis. His thoughts were too fuzzy to deal with Uric now that he was back to normal - or what passed for normal in Uric's case.

Uric pointed to Mena in his arms.

"Should I get a body to carry as well?"

"She's not dead!" Louis' voice echoed through the chamber, and he clamped his mouth shut with chagrin. Uric was just being Uric. He should stop overreacting and find a way to get them out of here. At least Mena wasn't awake to hear him make a fool of himself.

His vision was still a bit fuzzy, but a careful examination of the chamber revealed a doorway to the left of where they had entered. He nodded his head in that direction.

"Head for that doorway, Uric and find us the way out." It made sense that the only other passageway in the room would lead out of these catacombs, but he wasn't taking any chances, nor did he want to lose his friend. If Uric noticed a pretty rock, he was likely to decide he would rather stare at it than leave the catacombs. He was relieved when Uric followed his suggestion without protest.

They entered a dry corridor much like the one they had used to enter the room, though it felt like ages since they had done so. Louis' arms were aching from carrying Mena already, but he was hesitant to test if Uric was more up to Enervating her than he was.

He eyed his friend uneasily. Uric was walking strangely. Every once in awhile he would stagger sideways, his feet doing a little dance as if they had a mind of their own, before returning to his normal pace. Louis was unsure if he should take this as another sign of Uric having a problem, or if it was more support of Uric's claim that his feet had a mind of their own. He grimaced, wishing he could lie down somewhere until his head cleared, but there was nothing he could do but keep walking.

*****

It was a strange sensation. Her body was moving rhythmically up and down, and there was warmth spreading across her right side. She could hear a distant shuffle of steps, and even closer, a steady pounding that her mind tentatively identified as a heartbeat. That meant a person.

Someone was carrying her. Had she been able to, she would have stiffened in surprise, but there was a strange limpness to her body that could probably be explained as the aftermath of her headlong rush at the barrier to save Uric. She concentrated on a single thing, and was rewarded as her eyelids fluttered open.

Louis' face floated above her. He was staring ahead with weary determination. He didn't seem to have noticed the line of blood that had wound its way down his neck, or the fact that his hair had come undone. Had it been that horrible? What had happened with Uric and the demon? Were they prisoners, with Louis being forced to carry her? Was Louis hurt? She could tell from the ceiling that they were still in the crypts, but after several moments of attempting to work her mouth she was forced to stare silently up at Louis and try to ask her questions with her eyes. If only he would look down.

Keeping her eyes open proved impossible. She sank back into darkness.

*****

She could feel Louis' chest rise and fall as he breathed, and she revelled in the comforting sensation for a moment. How long had it been since she had been held like this?

Her eyes opened without trouble this time. The night sky was visible past the overhang of a wooden building. Louis was sitting against the building's wall, holding her as he had before, her body cradled on his lap. There was no sign of the blood she had seen earlier. His head was tilted back, and he appeared to be asleep. She would have to fix that.

"Louis!" He started awake, staring around in bewilderment before focusing on her.

"Mena. You're awake. Are you feeling all right?" he asked.

Mena shifted irritably in his arms. Everything seemed to be responding, if a bit slower than she would have liked.

"I'm fine. Why didn't you just Enervate me and let me walk, you berk?" she asked crossly. It was embarrassing, and Louis had to have had some trouble carrying her all the way out of the catacombs.

"I seem to have suffered a head injury," said Louis stiffly. "The headache's almost gone now, and I can see without my vision blurring, but next time I will be glad to try magic. I'm sure you wouldn't mind spending the rest of your life as a mutated frog."

"And Uric?" she demanded, ignoring the guilt she was beginning to feel for bothering Louis when he was hurt.

"As far as I can tell, Uric defeated the demon single-handed. I don't even want to theorize about how much power that took, so I wasn't about to trust him to do magic. While we're at it, why don't I ask you why you threw yourself against that ward? The aftershock could have been a lot worse, and I know you must have learnt something in Defence after all these years." The vehemence in his voice was startling. His usual calm had shattered in the wake of their adventure, and now Mena wasn't sure how to deal with him.

"Where is Uric?" she asked, hoping that Louis would accept the change of subject.

Louis inclined his head towards the opposite building.

"Over there," he said. "Doing a handstand."

Mena turned to look. Uric was balanced casually on his hands, his feet and legs resting against the opposite wall. His robes ballooned out over his head, forming a black bell and revealing the latest in wizarding fashion for young men's pants. She sighed. It was a wonder they had made it out of the catacombs without her.

She made an effort to get up, but was forced to slump back once she realized just how firmly Louis was holding onto her. A glance up at his face revealed that he was staring at Uric pensively.

"You can let me up now," she complained loudly. Louis gave her a startled look, then looked away in embarrassment. His grip loosened, and he sat stiffly as she pushed herself upright.

She was busy cleaning her robes off for the second time that day when a thought occurred to her.

"What happened to the dark witch?" she asked. Louis gave her a blank look that made her think he was channelling Uric.

"The dark witch," Mena repeated. "She was bowing to that beast last time I saw her." She hoped that Louis wouldn't bring up the reason she hadn't seen more again. One reprimand was quite enough.

"I don't know," answered Louis. "I didn't see what happened, and I was in no condition to check afterward."

"So how do we know the demon is gone, then?" she asked.

Louis shrugged from his position against the wall.

"We're alive, and the Parisians don't seem to have noticed anything, though judging by the assault we witnessed on our way to this sheltered alleyway, the Parisians don't notice a lot of things." His tone was faintly accusing, as if he were angry at the Parisians for not paying more attention. With a sigh, he leant his head back against the wall and shut his eyes. Mena thought he looked exhausted.

"What do you want to do?" she asked softly.

"Sleep," answered Louis without opening his eyes. "But failing that, let's go home. The meeting's probably long over by now. What a waste."

"All right," said Mena. "Come on, Uric. We're going home." Uric collapsed from his handstand and stood up, brushing off non-existent particles of dirt with his hands.

"Okay," was all he said, but Mena was a bit shocked by how fast he had responded. He must really want to go home.

She offered Louis a hand up, and they headed out of the alleyway.

*****

Louis was beginning to regret giving the map to Mena. She had been determined to lead them, though, and he had been too tired to argue. The crude map he had sketched from a better one in Mr. Beaufolle's study did not do the city justice. For one thing, it didn't show the sheer number and variety of Muggles still haunting the city streets, in spite of the late hour. He had to grab Uric to prevent him from walking into a couple that was making its way across the street. Louis' eyes followed the woman of the pair, who was wearing a garish, revealing dress. He could guess her profession.

The woman's companion was dressed in the lacy garb of a minor noble, and was walking a great deal less steadily than she was. As Louis watched, she pulled the man up against a building, kissing him soundly while deftly removing a valuable-looking bracelet from his wrist. Louis realized he was staring when the woman half turned from her kiss and sent a glare his way.

He hurried down the street, pushing Uric in front of him, and caught up with Mena. She hadn't even noticed their little detour, but was using the light from one of the buildings above to study the map once again. The other thing the map didn't show was the maze of extra streets - alleyways, really - that made this part of the city into a labyrinth.

He wished they could just use the carpet to leave, and the Muggles who saw them be damned. But the French Ministry of Magic was known for its strict laws on magical secrecy and its even stricter enforcement of said laws. Louis already had a note from the Ministry threatening them for their use of the carpet earlier in the day. It was either leave using the properly designated magic carpet and broom area, or face a few nights in the Minstry's cells. Not to mention that the Ministry would be sure to inform their parents of the incident. Uric and Mena's parents might not kill them, but his father would be sure to make his life unpleasant, to say the least.

Mena chose another direction, heading off down an alleyway that ran to their left. Louis and Uric followed. Uric had been unnaturally quiet since they had left the catacombs. It was a good thing, since they didn't want to attract attention, but Uric doing something prudent without being told struck him as a bad sign. Just what had happened with that demon?

They passed through street after street, some brightly lit - and others that made Louis want to reach for his wand. Eventually, the houses on either side gave way to grander domiciles. Well-tended shrubberies guarded the entrances to palaces made of stone. Between the bushes, grand ladies and nobles flitted like butterflies, fenced in by the iron bars that kept their grounds out of reach of the rabble.

It occurred to Louis that in one of these mansions, a meeting of great importance was probably winding to its close. He would have liked to give Mr. Beaufolle a bit of evidence for his cause, but it was too late now.

"It's this one," said Mena, gesturing theatrically at one of the buildings. A large statue stood in the middle of a green lawn. At the end of the lawn was a white and grey building, its many glowing windows facing towards them.

"Which one?" asked Uric.

"The Palais de Luxembourg, where Louis said the meeting was going to take place," she said impatiently. "You marked it with a big 'X' on your map," she said to Louis.

"Yes, I did. But that was before we all nearly got killed by a rampaging demon and that crazy witch." He glanced up at the night sky. "The meeting should have started ages ago. It's useless to go now."

"We might still learn something if we check," said Mena stubbornly. "What was the point of coming all this way if we don't have something to show for it?"

It was strange how she had read his mind about wanting to bring something back for Uric's father, Louis thought. He stared hard at the palace. His headache had disappeared while walking, and he felt up to doing magic now. Could they afford to let an opportunity like this pass, especially knowing what he knew about the agenda of the meeting?

"All right," he said finally. "We'll transfigure our clothing so we look like servants. We have to be very quiet, Uric. There should be a terrace round the other side of the palace. That's where we're heading."

*****

The few servants they saw ignored them, and were ignored in turn. Louis led them through the various rooms, always attempting to reach the other side of the palace. Finally they reached a darkened room. Long, elegant windows gave a perfect view of the terrace outside. Louis cast a tricky illusion spell - which he had practiced for just this situation - on all of them. They would blend into the scenery if anyone happened to glance their way.

On the terrace, a variety of men and women sat in high-backed, padded chairs that were arranged in a circle. Each wore a dark robe over his or her personal attire, but none had bothered to disguise their faces. Louis studied the faces intently, but was surprised to recognize none of them.

At the side of many of the chairs, house-elves cowered, looking terrified despite the noble splendour of their surroundings. When he saw the creature sitting near them, Louis' eyes widened.

It was a goblin, sitting with a stiff formality that was completely at odds with the relaxed postures of the rest of the circle. Its skin was lighter than he remembered from the last time he saw a goblin, but what was surprising was its height. If he judged correctly, it was at least a head taller than any other goblin he had ever seen.

Beside him, Mena pulled out her wand and whispered a spell. It had a limited range, but now they could hear the voices of the meeting's attendees. And those voices were speaking in English.

"I don't see why we're still here. We all know the plan and our parts. I have better ways to be spending my night," complained a blonde woman to their right.

An unassuming-looking man clapped his hands together from across the circle. "Bravo, Chloris." He uncrossed his legs and addressed the group. "The lady has requested we leave off the petty bickering and get to the point."

"Time is running short," said a balding man. However, he sounded reluctant to let whatever they had been discussing drop. Louis' felt his hopes rise at the thought that they might still say something incriminating.

"There will be other meetings," said a wrinkled old woman with a dignity that became her years.

"But none so important. This is where we cast our lot and claim what is ours!" It was another old woman who spoke. Her accent made the words sound even sharper than normal.

"You're beginning to tire me, Flavio," complained the balding man. He was rubbing his temples. "You lot may not have lands up north, but I do."

"We can't afford to exclude you," said the first man who had spoken. "It would look too suspicious. Just be content that you'll be compensated once this is over."

"Compensated by letting those filthy creatures overrun my lands!" The balding man's face and head were bright red. The goblin gripped the arms of his chair with his long fingers, and Louis fancied he could hear the arms crack under the strain.

"That's a little harsh, Egbert," said a man with long, red hair. He looked amused by the whole argument. "The Trow are our allies."

"If they destroy the Keep..." Egbert warned.

"It will be a worthy sacrifice!" called out Flavio, even, as the red-haired man tried to reassure Egbert that his Keep would be safe.

"We've tarried long enough!" The man who had spoken first was checking an hourglass he held in his hand. "The night grows long. You'll be informed of the next meeting in the usual manner." There were nods and mutterings around the circle, but no one protested the abrupt termination of the meeting. A few of them even looked relieved.

There were no more words, though Egbert was glaring at anyone who would meet his eyes. One by one, they stood up, motioned for their house-elves to follow, and disappeared into the night. The red-haired man and the goblin were two of the last to go. As they Apparated away, Louis was surprised to see the man's brilliant red hair fade and turn the black of night. He stared at the space that they had just occupied.

"Polyjuice," he whispered.

"What?" asked Mena.

"Polyjuice," said Louis excitedly. "They were all using Polyjuice. That's why they were worried about time, but weren't worried about who saw them here." He watched as the last man Apparated away after banishing the chairs. It wasn't as much information as he had hoped for, especially since they couldn't physically identify anyone, but at least they had a few names to give Mr. Beaufolle. Egbert and Flavio should be easy to identify at least, though it might not do any good. Some people were too strong to touch.

"What were they talking about?" asked Mena.

"Goblins," said Uric. "They're raiding up north. Father and Mr. Holmstein were talking about it."

"Exactly," said Louis. "How...coherent of you to notice, Uric." There was a long pause as he stared at his friend.

Mena looked back and forth between them.

"Do you think chairs gather to have their own secret meetings? Is there a Head of the Chairs? Do they decide what the proper chair shape is for the year? Or perhaps they're planning to rise up and protest our sitting in them?" asked Uric finally.

Louis could feel his headache coming back. Whatever was wrong could wait.

"I've had enough of Paris," he said. "Let's go home."

*****