Karhi Emelyn

Karhi and Aoife exited the wine cellar and were about to part when Aoife’s phone chirped.  She glanced at it, reading through something, before looking at Karhi.

“Sorry,” she said, typing on her phone.  “Your reunion with Sloane needs to be delayed just a bit.  Which might be a good idea anyway so she can cool down.”

“Why?” 

“The blood that she drank—we were able to run some tests on it and there are results.  I’d like you to be there to talk about it.”

Karhi wanted to argue, but Aoife was right.  Sloane was usually easier to talk to when she had been given some space.  And Aoife had searched for him for eight hours to get back to questioning.  There was a job he had agreed to do.  What was another hour or so?

“Alright.”

Aoife took the lead, and Karhi followed her.  As they walked, he took off the bandages she had put on his hand.  He wasn’t bleeding anymore, and he didn’t want people asking questions why a vampire needed bandages.  There was some scarring on his hands, but it was already fading.

“How did Sloane wind up drinking dead man’s blood?” he asked.  He had heard it was meant for the prince, but that’s all he knew.

“I spoke with Cyly afterwards.  Sloane joined Alice and Cyly in the dining hall.  My understanding is that Sloane had just gotten some warm blood, and Cyly was complaining about how he forgot his own blood, and it had gone cold.”

Karhi didn’t need to hear the rest.  “Sloane doesn’t mind cold blood.  She offered to swap.”

“Yes.  She swapped, drank the blood, and immediately started feeling the effects.”

“Cyly hadn’t drunk any of it?”

“He had had a sip when he first got it, but otherwise, no.”

Just like when Faren’s valet had taken a sip to show that Faren’s blood wasn’t poisoned.

“Do we know who could have spiked it in the kitchen?”

“We’re headed there now.  It’s where they did the testing.  We can ask there.”

Karhi recognized the hallway leading to the dining hall when they got to it.  But instead of going into the dining hall, Aoife veered off into another, smaller door and then through another.

The kitchens were enormous, with multiple gas stoves and grilltops, ovens, sinks, and prep tables.  There were maybe five or six people in the room, attending to different stations.  The room smelled like spices and cooked meat.

They made their way past the maze of prep stations.  There was one where a teenager sat, several unlabelled jars and a few dozen empty pill capsules spread around him.  He was carefully measuring out a powder on a scale in a small bowl before dumping the bowl into a larger bowl already filled with powder.

“What’s that?” Karhi asked as they passed him by.

“Prenatal vitamins, effectively,” Aoife answered.  “Over the years, we’ve tweaked certain herbal combinations that allow for the best chances for a vampire pregnancy to be viable and healthy.”

Karhi knew that living vampires had a higher birthrate now than they ever had in the past.  Apparently it was the same for vampires as humans—better healthcare and medicine understanding meant that more babies and mothers survived to birth.

“You just let kids measure out the medicine then?”  Karhi had a sudden image in his head of toddlers manning a pharmacy.

Aoife chuckled.  “That’s the son of Dr. Horus.  He wants to be a doctor, too.  She’s training him to be useful as a chemist until he can go to medical school.  He’s fifteen, I think.”

“Starting them young.”

“Henry likes it, and he’s good at it.”

Aoife led Karhi through another door, this time into what looked like a combination of a laboratory and a kitchen.  There was an oven and stove in one corner, along with more stainless steel tables that matched the prep tables they had passed in the kitchen.

There were also microscope and Bunsen burner set-ups.  There were a couple of chemical glove boxes and a bunch of electric boxes flashing different colours and blinking numbers.  There was a chemical hood in one corner with brown glass bottles sitting in it.

“What is this?” Karhi asked, looking around.

“Every hub where living vampires reside—this castle, the Irish castle, various other communities all over the world—has an arsenal of food scientists.  Since vampire children and halfvampires have such specific food requirements to make up for the fact that they can’t survive with blood or on blood alone, it’s become kind of a requirement to have food scientists on-site.”

Shit.  Karhi knew running a kingdom was insane, but this was beyond what he could have imagined.  He needed to make a note to tell Sloane about this.  She loved the weird minutiae of magical society.  When she had found out that farmers contracted animal slaughter to vampires, she had lost her mind.

A woman popped up from behind one of the counters in the centre of the room.  “Don’t forget allergists,” she said.

The woman was a living vampire, a few hundred years old.  She had long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and maroon lips that contrasted with her golden skin.  She came up to Karhi’s chest and wore a white lab coat with her name embroidered on it.  Dr. Lavender Horus, M.D.

“And allergists,” Aoife amended.  “Speaking of which—since you are an allergist, why are you the one here?”

She shrugged.  “You forget that I helped develop the first spectrometer way back in the late 1700s.”  She rolled her eyes.  “As usual, a white guy stole it, but whatever.  I’m familiar with the machines, so I got stuck on spectrometry duty.”  She nodded to Karhi.  “Been a while, Karhi.”

“Lavender.  Last time I saw you, I think you were . . . a surgeon?”

“I believe so.  I’ve gone through a couple specialties since then.  Didn’t you get a medical degree once?”

“Some time in the early 1700s.  I never used it.”   He waved his hand dismissively.  “It was mostly just different uses of opium.”

“It usually was.”  She looked at Aoife.  “So, first update: the vent you had us test had nothing on it.”

Karhi had expected that, and the motion Aoife made for Lavender to continue told him that she did, too. 

“We had more promising results with the blood the human vampire drank.  This was the first blood sample we were able to get still in the cup,” she said, showing them a printout with numbers and letters that meant nothing to Karhi.  “The others were dropped to the ground and contaminated.”

“What did you find?”

“We ran a few different tests.  First up, we found two different types of blood, like we expected, one being the blood that was safe to drink, the other being the dead man’s blood.  The safe blood came out as human.  The other one came out as human-like.”

Karhi and Aoife’s looks of confusion matched.  “Human-like?” Aoife asked.

Lavender nodded, glancing down at the printout.  “Yeah.  Usually that pops up for humans with lower amounts of magic.  Parahumans with simple powers, mages without a lot of magic, et cetera.”

“This was the first time you could determine the magical signature?” Karhi asked.

“Yes,” Lavender nodded, setting the printout down and stepping around the counter to pick up a printout next to another machine.  “I’m based out of this castle, but my understanding from my colleague in the Irish castle is that the blood at the second death had been dropped on the floor.  And here, Faren also dropped his blood.  The magic in the castle contaminated the samples.  This was the first sample still in the glass when we got it.  Fortunately, the victim’s magical outburst didn’t affect the sample.”

It took Karhi a second to understand that Lavender was saying that Sloane and her soulsilver hadn’t contaminated the sample.

“Did all of the blood come from the kitchen?  In both castles?” Karhi asked.

“Yes,” Aoife said.  “We do have one person who overlapped kitchens.  He was actually supposed to be one of your interviews before Sloane was poisoned.”

Karhi’s eyebrows rose.  “Oh?  Well, let’s talk to him then.”

“Who are you talking about?” Lavender asked curiously.

“Benjamin Forest?” Aoife said.  “Do you know where he is?”

Lavender’s brow furrowed.  “I haven’t heard of him . . .”  She set down the printout and motioned for them to follow her.

She brought them out into the kitchen.  As they passed her son, she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder but didn’t say anything to him as she continued.  It was a sweet, motherly gesture.

Lavender led them to a whiteboard next to the door through which they had originally entered the kitchen.  There was a list of names on it as well as information on their shifts, like where they were supposed to be working in the kitchen.  At the very bottom was the name Benjamin Forest.  There was no information on shifts, but in the section of where he was assigned, it just said “Zarrouk”.

Lavender’s brow furrowed.  “What is this?”

“Benjamin is a dietitian that works with one of the Queen’s contractors,” Aoife explained.  “Amara Zarrouk.  She has a lot of weird dietary restrictions.  He usually advises the kitchen on how to modify things for her.”

Lavender shook her head.  “I haven’t met him.  I would have spoken with him.  This kitchen is very allergy-friendly, and I don’t allow anyone to work in here who hasn’t been briefed on how to handle things.”  She looked up.  “Where’s Greer?”

“In the larder,” one of the prep cooks answered.  “Should I get her?”

“Yes.”

The prep cook left, heading through another door in the kitchen.  A few minutes later, she brought back a short, barrel-chested woman with a bandana tied around her head to hold her hair back.

“Doc,” the woman said in a strong Scottish accent.  She had a worried look on her face.  “Something wrong?”

“No one’s sick, Greer.  No, I wanted to ask you—have you been working with a Benjamin Forest?”

Greer nodded.  “Yeah, he’s a nutritionist or something.  Working for one of the Queen’s people.”

“Why wasn’t I notified?” Lavender asked.

Greer frowned.  “I thought ye had told me to work with him.”  Her brow furrowed.  “A few days ago, we talked about it.”

Lavender stood up straighter, eyebrows high on her forehead.  “I most certainly did not.”

Greer frowned.  “I could have sworn . . .”  She rubbed her temples.  “I’m sorry, doc.  My mind isn’t what it used to be.  It must just have been when Aoife came and introduced him.  I must have assumed you vetted him, Aoife.”  She glanced at Aoife.

Aoife blinked.  “Benjamin told me he had already gotten Lavender’s approval . . . I just . . .”  She looked at Lavender blankly.

“Aoife, you cannot just take someone’s word!” Lavender exclaimed in horror.  “I have a rigorous vetting process for anyone new who comes in here.  The O’Leary twins are severely allergic to nightshade vegetables and gluten—we have to be so careful about what’s prepared in here and how we prepare it.  I do not let anyone work in this kitchen without my approval.”  Lavender’s voice was getting higher and higher with anger.  She spun on Greer.  “What did he make in here?”

“Just some smoothies.  He advised a couple of the cooks of things that they could make for Amara.”

“Did he cook in here?” she hissed.

Greer shook her head, eyes wide.  “No.  He just advised on the things that Amara could have.”

“Why does she even have a personal dietitian that travels with her?” Lavender demanded, spinning back to Aoife.

Aoife looked just as stunned as Greer.  “Uh . . . I thought he was there for her allergies, too.  A doctor or—”

“Dietitians are not doctors,” Lavender snarled.  “Is he even a dietitian?  Or just a nutritionist?”

Aoife didn’t have an answer for that.  Karhi wouldn’t have, either.  There was a difference?

“You can notify the kitchen of her allergies.  Dietitians make meal plans.  They help advise on things to eat and work with.  They don’t cook anything.”  Lavender put her hands to her temples.  “Vampires, absolutely useless when it comes to eating.  There’s no reason to bring a dietitian on a trip.”

Aoife glanced at Karhi uncomfortably, but Karhi didn’t have any suggestions.

Lavender finally took a deep breath.  “Sorry,” she said tightly.  “I’m just sick of people bringing strangers into my kitchen.  They can be dangerous, if they don’t know what they’re doing.”

“Or if they do,” Aoife said, something dark flashing across her face.  She looked at Greer.  “When’s the last time you saw him?”

“Um . . . late last night.  Not too long before . . .”  Greer stopped.  “Just before that human vampire was poisoned.” 

“Do you remember seeing him around when Faren was poisoned?”

Greer’s hands went to her mouth in horror, nodding.  “Oh no.  Yes.  He was in here at the same time that Conchobar was picking up Faren’s blood.”

Aoife was already stepping away and pulling her phone out to call someone.

So, they may have had their culprit.  But . . . what was the method of delivery?  The first death was simple—just a syringe.  But the others had all been poisoned drinks.  And in at least two instances a living vamp had drunk the poisoned blood without getting sick.  Conchobar had checked Faren’s blood for poison.  And then Cyly had taken a sip of his own blood when he first got it.

But then Faren had almost died, and Sloane had been poisoned.

It was some sort of delayed onset.

He surveyed the room.  What would have delayed onset like that . . . ?

He had thought that maybe someone had snuck into Faren’s vents and poisoned him that way.  Dropping something into his drink from above or something.  It had been a longshot, he knew that.  Faren would have heard someone in his vents.  And the blood had been hidden from view of the vents.  But it had been the only thing that he could think of.

But that was definitely not the case with the blood Sloane had drunk.  It had to have gotten to her already poisoned.  But how?

Lavender’s son weighing out the medicine caught his eye.  He had started picking out capsules and was loading them up with a measured dose of the medicine in the bowl.

Capsules.

Karhi darted forward to Henry, startling him when he grabbed a capsule half off the table.  Henry looked up, eyes wide.  “Uh . . .”

Karhi examined the capsule for a moment before looking at the boy.  “These capsules, they’re meant for swallowing?”

Henry blinked in confusion.  “Uh . . . yes?  Is this a trick question?”

“No.  Do these ever get put into drinks to dissolve?”

Henry frowned, shaking his head.  “If it was going to dissolve, we’d just put the powder in a drink directly.  But most of these medicines taste terrible, so we put them in capsules to be swallowed easily.”

“Can these capsules dissolve into drinks?”  He had dissolved plenty of hallucinogenics in blood over the years for fun.

Lavender was at his side in a second.  “Yes,” she answered.  Karhi could tell from her tone that she understood why he was asking.  “These capsules take about twenty minutes to dissolve in a warm liquid.”

“Like blood?”

“Like blood.”

“How much blood can fit in a capsule?”

“Maybe half a teaspoon in our biggest ones?  So, there would need to be a few capsules of dead man’s blood slipped into someone’s drink.  But blood is dark.  You wouldn’t notice a few clear capsules filled with more blood settling at the bottom of a glass.”

“Is there a way to prove if a capsule was dissolved in the blood?”

“Capsules are made of gelatine, which is an animal byproduct.  So porcine or bovine DNA would show up in certain tests I can run.”

“Can you run the tests?” Karhi asked.

“Absolutely.”  She leaned over to kiss her son on the forehead.  “Sorry for scaring you, honey.  Thanks for your help.”

Henry still looked confused, but he gave his mom a hesitant thumbs up.  “You’re welcome, mom.”

Aoife joined them from her phone call, and Lavender relayed what they had just figured out.

“Get on that,” Aoife said to Lavender curtly.  “I cannot find a trace of Benjamin Forest anywhere.  I’ll need to talk to Amara.  But before that—someone tried to kill Alice.”

Lavender gasped in horror.  “Who?”

Aoife shook her head.  “We don’t know.”  She looked at Karhi and Karhi’s heart fell.  He didn’t like the expression on her face. “Your fledgling was there.”

Of course she was.