The Hunt for Lilywhite (part eight)
In which we get a lesson in blood magic.
Previously in The Bone Angel, Series 2 : the Hunt for Lilywhite: The Hunter has been summoned for an audience with Mama Silva and Maddalena has made a dangerous trek across town to reconnect with her old classmate Mose, who is a follower of Lilywhite’s manosphere podcast.
Catch up on all episodes of Series 1 and 2 here.
Under a white-hot summer sun, the Hunter turns the corner at Las Posadas, where the lush gardens behind the Cathedral of San Clemente buzz with summer bees and the whipsaw song of cicadas.
He’s sweat-drenched and woozy from lack of sleep, and his mind is whirling from this morning’s crash course in blood magic, implacably imparted by Mercedes Silva with the help of hot chocolate and cinnamon buns.
In her little back room, where the power prowls like a hungry cat in the corners and the scents of incense and chocolate hang sweet in the air, Mama Silva had taken her tiny sharp knife from its place on the altar table and pricked her own finger over the silver bowl. Blood, bright crimson, dripped slowly down.
Then:
“Give me your hand,” she said. In one precise move, she jabbed the Hunter’s index finger as she had her own. They both watched as the blood welled a rich purplish blue, falling alongside the hot red droplets in the bowl.
Mama Silva’s mouth quirked in an ironic smile. “The glamour can’t hide that, can it?” She dabbed his finger gently with a napkin.
Wincing, the Hunter pulled his hand away. Mama Silva turned the napkin to a clean edge and wiped the knife. “Now listen. What have you heard of blood magic?”
The Hunter shrugged. “Not much. That’s an Earthside thing.” Barbaric, primitive, sneered the voice in the back of his mind. Disgusting.
Reading his face, Mama Silva laughed. “Ah, you Sidhe. Always with your noses up in the air. What do you know of real power? All you can do is hide behind someone else’s image.”
She reached for her cup and leaned back in her brocaded chair, ready for the lecture. “Here in this world, blood is life. And strength. It carries iron, doesn’t it? The Earth is made of iron and water. So are we. When we feed the Earth with blood, it feeds us with its power.”
The Hunter wished he’d paid more attention in those awful “Orientation to the Earthside” sessions the Wild Hunt’s mercenaries had to attend when they’d first contracted with the Directorate. But Marcus had been there too, sitting on the other side of the room with his unit of Shadowlands snipers, and they’d exchanged a glance of shared misery and a wry smile that danced in the Hunter’s mind the rest of the day.
“Throughout history, blood has been used for ritual, for worship, for binding oaths,” Mama Silva continued. “It gives life, takes life, intensifies the power of spells and castings. It can even sustain the undead. I’m sure you’ve heard of Dracula.”
“We don’t have vampires in the Domains,” the Hunter retorted. Sucking blood from flesh, like juice from an orange? Even more disgusting.
“Of course you don’t,” Mama Silva said. “They’d starve to death. Nothing in your blood would sustain them.”
The Hunter started to speak, but she raised a finger to shush him. “You are creatures of air and fire, not earth and water like us. You can’t wield the power of blood.”
A fly buzzed between them, landing amid the crumbs of a cinnamon bun on Mama Silva’s plate. Snatching it in one flash of her long ringed fingers, she eyed the Hunter thoughtfully.
“But Lilywhite can.”
Wait, what? That was classified information: the reason Lilywhite must die, known only to the higher-ups in the Directorate and the Hunter himself. Wasn’t it?
“He is of course a human man, but he is descended from the original Old Ones,” Mama Silva continued, wrapping the dead fly in the napkin stained with the Hunter’s blood. “From the days when they walked the Earth and lay with the daughters of men, as the Scripture says. But of course you know that. It’s why you must kill him.”
A memory flashed through the Hunter’s mind: a dossier labeled LILYWHITE already beginning to dissolve in his fingers, as he and Simon Flescher discussed the target. An Earthsider carrying the power of both the Old Ones and the Earth, uniquely placed to hear their call and break them free. Using that power to break a fae barrier never designed to resist it.
We think he’s the last of them, Flescher had said. End him and we end the threat.
Mama Silva crumpled the napkin and tossed it on the empty plate. “Your Directorate seems to think that Lilywhite will use blood magic to bring the Old Ones back to the Earth. Or loose them in your Domains. Or both. And who knows what all this will do to the Moon Road.
“So you must stop him before he gets that far, am I right?”
The Hunter stiffened. “I’m not discussing that with an Earthsider.”
“And yet here you are.” Mama Silva stood, gathering the cups and the dishes. “Sneer at our magic if you will, Hunter. But if your mission fails —”
She glanced at the blood in the bowl, drying in a cluster of marble-sized drops. “You’re going to need it.”
Recognizing dismissal, the Hunter rose too. “And if I do? Where will you be in this, Señora Silva?”
Balancing dishes in one hand, Mama Silva held out the other. The Hunter took it, her silver rings biting deep into his fingers.
“Where I always am,” she said. “Don’t be angry, my Hunter. We’re not at odds here. I’ll tell you what I can. And nobody has to know you’re breaking all the rules.”
With that, she gestured him through the beaded curtain and out into the morning.
Now, as the Hunter steps through the Cathedral’s back gates and into its famous gardens, he’s turning the details of that meeting over again and again in his mind. All through his morning stroll through the barrio and across downtown, he’s been trying to answer a cascade of new questions.
How does Mama Silva know the truth about Lilywhite? And if she does, who else might?
Marcus knew. Or at least the people who sent him did. And the Directorate found out and sent the Hunter a warning. The threads are getting more and more tangled, and right now he’s too tired to tease them apart.
Give the Hunter a clear shot at a bad actor, or dispatch him to sink a pirate frigate. He’ll get it done swift and clean and none the wiser. Tell him a certain Syndicate boss is dining in a classy joint in Spire, and he’ll take the guy out before the evening’s done. That’s when he’s in his element, wired and sharp and cruising on adrenaline like the pro he is.
But this murky spy versus spy business, with roots deep in the higher echelons of the Directorate and the Shadowlands, chasing a mutant Earthsider who doesn’t want to be found, is frustrating and, let’s face it, just plain tedious.
Even if it is supposed to save the world.
Ah, Lord Sun. What now.
Two women are standing on the porch of the parish house behind the Cathedral, busily knocking on the front door. He recognizes them from church: Eleanor Fowler and Martina somebody or other, middle aged and chatty, and warmly welcoming of their new priest the charming Father Teodoro.
Stepping behind a massive oak tree, the Hunter drops the look of the handsome Nordic dude and becomes Father Teodoro again. With a priestly smile in place, he covers the last few yards to the parish house.
“There you are, Father!” Eleanor whirls around at the sound of his footsteps. “We were afraid we might wake you.”
“Just taking a walk in the gardens before it gets too hot,” the Hunter says cheerily. “What can I do for you this morning?”
Smiling broadly, Martina hands him a cardboard box. “No, Father. It’s what we can do for you.”
Eleanor steps up beside Martina with her own offering: an insulated lunch bag smelling richly of salsa and spicy beef. “You’ve been so busy lately —”
“And you look so tired sometimes,” Martina adds. “We thought we’d bring you a few goodies. So here’s a couple of pies, apple and - blueberry I think? And some carne asada too.”
Eleanor nods vigorously. “You’re just wonderful for the parish, Father. Got to take care of you, don’t we? We can’t afford to lose you.”
“Are you drinking enough water? Have you been sleeping well?” Martina rattles on. “You might want to think about melatonin.”
Both hands full, the Hunter surveys them benevolently. “Why thank you, ladies. You’ve made me feel so welcome here. But speaking of sleep —”
Martina’s head snaps up, and so does Eleanor’s, both women staring past the Hunter’s shoulder down the garden path. There’s the flop flop of footsteps and a panting breath, and Maddalena steps onto the porch behind him.
She’s wearing Leelee’s oversized T shirt, a pair of gym shorts and high top tennies way too big, and she’s nearly unrecognizable without her street makeup and upswept hair. Clutching her phone tight in one hand, she seizes the Hunter’s elbow with the other.
“Hun- I mean, Father! I’ve been trying to call you, I’ve got to tell you —“
Surveying the sweaty, excited young woman with her hand on the arm of their charming new priest, Martina and Eleanor exchange a frowning glance.
“Well then, Father. We’ll leave you to your — business,” says Eleanor stiffly.
The Hunter, head slightly spinning from heat and too much sugar and the madness of it all, speaks soothingly. “Spiritual counseling knows no timetable. And we’ve been making such progress, haven’t we, Susana?”
Taking the cue, Maddalena sniffles. “I’m sorry it’s so early, but - I’ve had a breakthrough! I wanted to talk to you about it. You’ve been so kind to me.”
“By all means,” says the Hunter. “If you’ll excuse us, ladies? Much obliged for — all of this. And I’ll see you in church come Sunday, yeah?”
Casting one last suspicious glance Maddalena’s way, Eleanor and Martina link arms and start down the path toward the street. As soon as they’ve cleared the garden gate, Maddalena turns back to the Hunter.
“Ooh, that smells so good! Is that pie?” She scoops the box out of the Hunter’s hand.
“I found Mose - and I think he knows something important.”
Behind the Scenes:
Black Moon Journal is undergoing a bit of a makeover as it fully embraces the noir fantasy vibe that’s been bubbling under the surface. There’s a dark, grungy new look and some new structure as well. To help readers navigate the Bone Angel series, I’ve created a complete episode guide, linked at the top of every episode. There’s also a new tab for other Moon Road stories and shorts like the Goblin Games and the Guides to the Moon Road (read ‘em before your next trip!)
More to come as I build my publishing brand, Paperlight Press for ebooks, zines and other digital products.
Next up in “The Hunt for Lilywhite” — Maddalena reports in and the Hunter makes a choice he might regret.
Till next time —
JM