Teamwork

Chapter 9

"Rabe!" Jones yelled, her voice echoing shrilly in the stable's halls. No answer. For the past hour, she had been searching for him. "Rabe!" She walked over to the staff room and only saw Haken working on today's homework. "Have you seen Rabe?"

Haken seemed to have resumed his normal good humor. "If he is not in his office, I would check in the greenhouses."

Jones continued down the hallway to the last doorway. Standing in front of Rabe's door, she shivered, trying once again to make up her mind whether this was the best or the worst office. His office was next to one of the two side doors. Convenient for leaving unnoticed, but the door had sagged over the years and let in a continual blast of cold air. It also had the supply closet next to it, which provided an illusion of privacy. All of the office/quarters were separated by thin, wooden partitions. If she stood in the right place in her rooms, she could hear Kessler snore and Haken talk in his sleep. Jones rapped on the door and waited. No answer. Where the hell was he? Should put a locator spell on him, she mused, never could find him. She was considering trying the greenhouses, when she heard a noise behind the door. She pounded on the door again and definitely heard noise this time. "Rabe! Dammit! I need to talk to you!"

The door cracked open. "What?"

"Open the door. I need you to do some things for tonight."

"Come back later." The door closed.

She swore with a proficiency of long practice. "I need to talk to you now!" When the door remained shut, she had enough. "OK. You're the damn department head! You're supposed to be the damn liaison between the staff and us. You need to do your damn job!" She yelled as loudly as she could, but the door did not budge.

Wronski poked his head out of his office door. A vile smell filled the hallway indicating that the potion must be almost done. "What is your problem?"

"I need to get into the cells. I need some blood, hair or whatever for tonight. Damn Rabe won't come out or let me in."

Wronski's smile made her even angrier. "What?" she demanded.

"He's got her in there, you know. I saw them go in there about an hour ago." The smile got bigger as Jones' face grew red. "Go ahead. Open the door. I dare you."

"What's the bet?"

"A bottle of California wine I've been saving if you do it. If you back out, you owe me that jar of peanut butter I know you're hoarding."

"Sucker." She pulled out her wand and did a simple, "Alohomora". The door clicked. She looked over at Wronski and gave a thumbs-up sign. Swinging the door open, she yelled, "Put your clothes on or cover up! I need to get some samples. If you won't do it, then give me the keys!"

She made it into the outer office before Rabe appeared, mostly covered by his robes. She waited while he seemed unable to complete a coherent sentence. There were times she loved her translation spells. They didn't always work quite right and the literal translations, such as the one she was getting now, were quite impossible. She waited until he finished ranting at her and held out her hand. "Keys." He tried staring her down. "Keys. Gilles needs me to get some things for him, too." The mere mention of de Rais was enough to make Rabe head back into his personal quarters. Jones heard a feminine voice ask a question. The words were indistinct, but the intonation and the grumbling reply made her smile. She heard a jingling sound and was soon faced by the very angry Rabe with the keys. "You can get them back after tonight," she quipped as she grabbed them and left. The door slammed behind her.

She clanked through the ring, looking for the right key as she headed down the hall, slowing in front of Wronski's office long enough to call out, "Close the door, Paul. The smell is horrible. I'll expect to see that bottle tonight."

As he leaned in his doorway, Wronski snorted. "Just wait until you see what it does. I've only used it on rats so far, but it's really concentrated. You'll get your wine tonight, after we get done with the dog and pony show. Till then..." He closed the door.

Jones left the building and trudged across the ground to another of the other outbuildings. If their offices were a depressing place, this one was even worse. There were no windows and the only door was heavily barred. Stone-faced men stood at either side. "Business?" one asked, his lips barely moving

"Three for tonight. I want to see what we have. I need the usual samples." She waited while the men eyed her suspiciously as if she had never been there before. They looked at her coat with the department emblem displayed on the left side. When she had received her long red leather coat, she had thought it was just a uniform, but she then discovered that it had been enchanted to display her department and name. It was handy in an intrusive way. The guards continued to watch her. With a sigh, she produced Rabe's keys and shook them for emphasis. That seemed to convince them. She wondered if the keys had some sort of spell on them that she couldn't see, but the guards could.

Mulling that over, she waited as the door was opened with a depressing screech. Way too much ambiance. The long, low building was poorly lit, just as she remembered, and it smelled of death. The Dark Arts department wasn't the only one that used what was held in there. Her Lumos spell made little difference in the darkness. "Lumos Maximus!" Better. She could see the first four cells. The men and women in the cells stared sullenly at her. Long ago, she had ceased thinking of them as people. She couldn't have worked in the Dark Arts as long as she had, thinking of the recipients of her spells as anything more than objects. She passed the ring of keys to the guard. "The first three will do. Restrain them so I can get what I need."

The guards opened the cell and hauled the first one out. She ignored the prisoner's pleading voice as she methodically took her samples: hair, blood, some of the clothing. She wasn't certain what de Rais might want, so she took a little of everything, marking the bags and vials with the sex and number. "Next." And so it went through the three.

Stepping back from the cell, she turned to the guards. "These are the ones for tonight. Understand?" The guards did nothing. Great. She didn't trust them to get it right. They didn't care. She did. While it was possible to do the work at the demonstration, it was important that everything went off perfectly. The spell required preparation and she'd rather not rush anything. It was a matter or pride. She was a professional.

"Designa Obscurus Ars!" The Durmstrang mark shone on each one's forehead. She had never figured out why her personal vision of the Dark Arts Department's mark should be the same as the school, but it was. "Designa Meus!" Placed her sigil next to the other mark. She did not trust the guards to get these particular prisoners out. With her own sigil, she could summon them, if needed. "Bring them in two hours." One of the guards grunted which she took as agreement. It was time for her to do her own preparation work.